PREFACE.

With a brief word the standpoint of this dogmatics may be set in the light. Not only the believer, the dogmatician also has confession to make of the communion of saints. Only with all the saints can he comprehend what the breadth and length and depth and height are and confess the love of Christ, which surpasses knowledge. Only in and through their communion does he learn to understand the dogma, in which the Christian faith expresses itself. Moreover, in this communion of saints there lies a strengthening power and an excellent consolation. Dogmatics is at present not in honour; the Christian dogma does not share in the favour of the time. Hence, according to the word of Groen van Prinsterer, Ongeloof en Revolutie 1868 bl. 17, at times a feeling of abandonment, of isolation. But all the more does it then dispose to gratitude, to be able to appeal to the alliance of the forefathers. For these reasons more attention has been devoted to patristic and scholastic theology than is otherwise the case with Protestant dogmaticians. Men such as Irenaeus, Augustine, Thomas, do not belong exclusively to Rome. They are patres and doctores, to whom the whole Christian church has obligations. Further, the Roman theology after the Reformation has also not been forgotten. Among Protestants there is many a time too little acquaintance both with what they have in common with Rome and with what separates them from Rome. The revival of Roman theology under the auspices of [IV] Thomas, makes it doubly necessary for the Protestant Christian to give himself a well-conscious and clear account of his relation to Rome.

However, this dogmatics most closely aligns with that type which the Christian religion and theology in the sixteenth century received through the Reformation, specifically in Switzerland. Not because this is the only true one, but because, according to the conviction of the author, it is the relatively purest expression of the truth. In no confession has the Christian element, in its religious, ethical, and theological character, so come into its own; nowhere has it been conceived so deeply and broadly, so spacious and free, so truly catholic, as in that of the Reformed churches. Therefore it is all the more to be regretted that this reformation of religion and theology, just like that of church and science, was so soon checked. In spite of much good, which the later development shows to be seen not only in this country, but likewise in England, Scotland, America, nevertheless stagnation soon set in and deformation followed. Preferably appealing to the older generation, which in freshness and originality far surpasses the later, the author of this work considers it the right of the dogmatician, in the history of Reformed theology, to distinguish between wheat and chaff. To praise the old only because it is old is neither Reformed nor Christian. And dogmatics does not describe what has been valid, but what must be valid. It is rooted in the past, but labors for the future.

Therefore, finally, this dogmatics also wishes to bear the stamp of its time. It would be an unbegun work to detach oneself from the present; but it would also not be good for God, who in this age speaks to us no less loudly and earnestly than in previous generations. Attention has been paid to the manifold directions which, in the theological field, cross one another. In the midst of them all a place has been sought and a position chosen. Where deviation was a duty, account has been given of it. But even then there has been a striving to value the good, where [V] it was to be found. Often continued study caused affinity to be discovered, which at first seemed not to exist at all.

Built upon this foundation, this dogmatics seeks to be a handbook for those who devote themselves to its study. Even where it cannot win assent, may it stimulate to study. With this in view, the questions and the different solutions that have been attempted have been presented as objectively as possible. Literature has been indicated to such an extent that one can soon orient oneself and cooperate in the solution.

This first part discusses the introduction and the principia. The second part will treat the dogma. Probably this will see the light in two parts, which in no case will be greater in extent than this first part, and will follow as soon as practicable. A detailed index will conclude the work.

H. Bavinck

Kampen, April 1895.

§ 1. Name and Concept of Dogmatics.

1. The name dogmatics is still of recent date. Formerly quite different names were in use. Origen gave to his dogmatic principal work the title περι ἀρχων. Augustine described his Enchiridium ad Laurentium by the addition, sive de fide, spe et caritate. John of Damascus gave an Ἐκδοσις ἀκριβης της ὀρθοδοξου πιστεως. With Isidorus Hispalensis the name Sententiæ arises, which in the 13th century gives way to Summa theologiæ. Melanchthon spoke of Loci communes rerum theologicarum, sive hypotyposes theologiæ. The expression loci is borrowed from Cicero, and a translation of the Greek τοπος. Aristotle understood by τοποι the general rules of dialectic, which were known of themselves and were fixed, and therefore could serve as στοιχεια των ἀποδειξεων, Rhet. lib. II c. 22 § 13. Metaph. lib. IV c. 3 § 3. Cicero transferred this doctrine of the τοποι from dialectic to rhetoric, and understood by it those places where the orator could find the arguments which he needed in his speech. He explains the expression by sedes, notæ argumentorum, and points out as such sources the concept, the definition, the division, the basic meaning of the word, the synonyms, etc. Top. II c. 2. This use of the word loci does not entirely correspond with the meaning in Aristotle, and was modified still more in later logic. Melanchthon himself explains in his Dialectica, lib. IV the expression loci by signa quædam, quibus rerum, quæ dici tractarique debent, capita indicantur. Loci communes are according to Cicero, de Orat. III 27. Brutus 12, such propositions which have no relation to any [2] definite object, are general and therefore hold always and everywhere; in distinction from loci proprii, which are concrete and therefore are valid only with a definite subject or in a special science. Melanchthon wished in his loci communes to give only the principal chapters of the Christian religion, as these had been treated especially by Paul in his epistle to the Romans. He himself therefore describes them by hypotyposes, design, sketch, lineamenta of theology. And the German translation of Spalatin rendered the title by: Hauptartikel und fürnehmste Punkte der ganzen Heiligen Schrift. Name and content of Melanchthon’s dogmatics thus stand in contrast with the scholastic Sententiae and Summae. It did not intend to give a complete dogmatic system to the educated, but rather to introduce the uneducated to the knowledge of Holy Scripture. Cf. Heppe, Dogm. des Deutschen Protest. 1857 I s. 4-14; Herzog u. Plitt, Real. Enc. 8, 708 f.; Sanseverino, Philosophia Christiana, ed. nov. Neap. 1878 III 286-315. From this it can be explained that the name loci communes among the Roman theologians, with a single exception, found no acceptance. Indeed they use the expression loci, but not in the sense of Melanchthon, but in that of Cicero or Aristotle. They understand by it not the articuli fidei, but the principia or sources of Theology, Dens, Theologia ad usum Seminariorum. Mechl. 1828 I 5; Billuart, Summa S. Thomae sive Cursus Theologiae 1747 I 47; Daelman, Theologia seu Observ. theol. in Summam D. Thomae 1759 I 18. The famous work of Melchior Canus, Loci Theologici 1563, takes the expression in the same sense and treats not dogmatics itself, but its sources, which are ten in number: Scripture, tradition, Pope, councils, church, church fathers, scholastici, reason, philosophy, history. In contrast, the name loci communes of Melanchthon was adopted by many Lutheran and Reformed theologians, such as Chemniz, Hutter, Gerhard, Calovius; Martyr, Musculus, Hyperius, Ursinus, etc. But nevertheless it had to yield rather soon to another title. Zwingli had brought dogmatic writings to light under the title of Commentarius de vera ac falsa religione, Christianae fidei brevis et clara expositio. Calvin preferred the name of Institutio religionis Christianae. And later theologians from the Lutheran and Reformed church returned to the old name of theologia [3] again. In distinction from other theological disciplines, which gradually increased in number and in weight, this name of Theologia had to be further specified. For that purpose the addition didactica, systematica, theoretica, positiva served, and since L. Reinhart, Synopsis theologiae dogmaticae 1659, also that of dogmatica. This specification lay close at hand, because the truths of faith had long already been designated with the name of dogmata, and the separation of dogmatics and ethics begun with Danaeus and Calixtus demanded a separate name for both disciplines. Since then this addition has obtained so great a dominion, that it has banished the main concept of theology and has appeared independently, that it has found assent among theologians of every confession, and has not been able to be displaced by the newer names of doctrine of faith, doctrine of salvation, Christian doctrine, etc.

2. The word δογμα, from δοκειν, to seem, denotes that which is determined, decided and therefore stands firm, το δεδογμενον, statutum, decretum, placitum. In Scripture it is used of commands of the government, LXX, Esth. 3:9; Dan. 2:13; 6:8; Luk. 2:1; Hd. 17:7, of the ordinances of the O. Covenant Ef. 2:15; Col. 2:14, and of the decisions of the assembly at Jerusalem, Hd. 15:28; 16:14. Among the classics it has the meaning of decision or command and in philosophy that of truths standing firm by themselves or by proofs, Plato, de Rep. VII c. 16. p. 538 C.; Arist. Phys. ausc. 4, 2; Cic. de fin. 2, 32; Acad. prior. 2, 9. § 27; Seneca Epist. 94, 95. In these meanings the word is also taken over in theology. Josephus, c. Ap. I, 8 says, that the Jews from childhood hold the books of the Old Covenant for θεου δογματα. In the same meaning the church fathers speak of the Christian religion or doctrine as το θειον δογμα, of the incarnation of Christ as δογμα της θεολογιας, of the truths of faith, which in and for the church are valid as τα της ἐκκλησιας δογματα, and likewise of the teachings of the heretics as δογματα των ἑτεροδοξων etc. Cf. Suicerus, Thesaurus Eccles. s. v.; Herzog2 s. v. Dogmatik; H. Cremer, Wörterbuch der neutest. Gräcität s. v. The word retains this same sense among the Latins, as Vincentius in his Commonitorium c. 29, and among the Protest. theologians such as Sohnius, [4] Opera 1609 I 32; Ursinus, Tract. Theol. 1584 p. 22; Hyperius, Methodus Theol. 1574 p. 34; Polanus, Synt. Theol. 1625 p. 133.

3. The use of the word teaches us in the first place, that by dogma all kinds of commands, decisions, philosophical truths, theoretical propositions, practical rules, etc. can be designated, but what they have in common is, that there always lies at their basis a certain authority. A dogma is a proposition that has authority, Harnack, Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, 2te Aufl. 1888 I. 15. In the word dogma, however, there does not lie in itself on what authority it rests. With the different dogmas that authority is also different. With political dogmas that authority is the government, with philosophical dogmas the inner evidence or the force of the proofs; with the religious or theological dogmas that authority lies only in God’s testimony, whether this according to the Protestants is heard only in Scripture, or according to the Roman Catholics also in the church. A proposition has authority in church and theology only for this reason, because it rests on the testimony of God. Therefore, wrongly, by and since Schleiermacher the essence and character of a dogma is sought in the ecclesiastical establishment and proclamation, Schleiermacher, Christl. Sitte 1884, S. 5; Rothe, Zur Dogm. 10; Schweizer, Christl. Glaub. I. 23; Daubanton, Theol. Studien 1885, bl. 136-145; Kuyper, Encycl. III 395 v. From a Roman standpoint there would still be something to be said for this, because the church is infallible. But the Reformation recognizes no truth except only on the authority of God in Holy Scripture. Verbum Dei condit articulos fidei, et praeterea nemo, ne angelus quidem, Art. Smalc. Pars II art. 2. Dogmata and articuli fidei are only those truths, quae in scripturis proprie ut credenda proponuntur, Hyperius, Methodus theol. p. 34, 35. They are only such sententiae, quibus credi aut obtemperari necesse est propter mandatum Dei, Ursinus, Tract. Theol. 22. And therefore among the Reformed theologians this proposition repeatedly returns: principium, in quod omnia dogmata theologica resolvuntur, est: Dominus dixit, cf. Ritschl, Lehre v. d. Rechtf. u. Vers. 3te Aufl. II 2. But from the character of authority, which is proper to a dogma, it nevertheless follows in the second place of itself, that as such it is also recognized in a certain circle. There undoubtedly lies in the concept of dogma a social element. A [5] truth may stand ever so firmly; if it is not recognized, it is in the eyes of others nothing more than a sententia doctoris, a private opinion. The concept of dogma includes that the authority which it possesses also knows how to have itself recognized and maintained. Therefore a distinction must be made between dogma quoad se and dogma quoad nos. A proposition is dogma in itself, abstracted from all recognition, if it rests on the authority of God. But in order not to identify one’s own opinion with the truth of God, it is of the highest importance for every believer and especially also for the dogmatician to know which truths from Scripture under the guidance of the Holy Spirit in the church of Christ have been brought to general recognition. The confession can thus be called the dogma quoad nos. But also in this subjective sense dogma is absolutely not limited to what is expressly included in the symbols and has been ecclesiastically established. The church has a life and a faith that is much richer than comes to expression in the confession. The confession by no means formulates the entire content of the Christian faith. It also does not belong to the essence of the church, is incidental, and has almost always been born from special circumstances. It usually includes only what has found opposition within or outside it. Thus, just as wood does not burn because it smokes, but the smoke is nevertheless a sign of burning, so also a proposition is not a dogma because the church recognizes it, even though it is the case that recognition by the church is an important, although always fallible, proof of its truth, Kleutgen, Theologie der Vorzeit, 2te Aufl. I, 97 f. In the third place the use of the word dogma still teaches us, that it was used now in a broader, then in a narrower sense. Sometimes the whole Christian religion is designated by it, and Basilius M., de Spiritu Sancto c. 27 can understand under δογματα (in contrast with κηρυγματα, the articuli fidei drawn from Scripture) the ecclesiastical ceremonies and rites, Suicerus, Thes. Eccl. s. v. δογμα. Polanus t. a. p. says, that dogma in a broader sense includes everything that is comprised in Holy Scripture, not only the doctrina evangelii et legis, but also all conciones, historiae sacrae etc. Usually, however, the word was used in a narrower sense, for the doctrina evangelii et legis, for those sententiae, quibus credi aut obtemperari necesse est propter mandatum Dei, Ursinus t. a. p. 22. It thus included not only the doctrinal, but also the ethical truth. Later, however, the word dogma has been delimited still more narrowly, in that the doctrina legis was distinguished and separated from the doctrina evangelii; dogmata were now only those sententiae, quibus credi necesse est propter mandatum Dei. Polanus went still further and also made a distinction between the dogmata and the principia theologiae. Thus dogma became the designation of the articuli fidei, which rest on the authority of God’s Word and therefore obligate all to faith. And dogmatics is then the system of the articuli fidei.

4. Yet with that the concept of dogmatics has still only been established in a formal sense. A definition of dogmatics as the science of the dogmas is of little use, so long as we do not know the material, the content of the dogmas. In order now to determine the material concept of dogmatics, we must remember that dogmatics was originally an adjective for the description of the main concept theology. Accordingly, in earlier times dogmatics was commonly conceived as doctrina de Deo principaliter et de creaturis, secundum quod referuntur ad Deum ut ad principium vel finem, Thomas, Summa Theol. I qu. 1 art. 3 en 7; Alb. Magnus, Sent. lib. I dist. 1 § 2; Petavius, Opus de theol. dogmatibus cap. 1. —Gerhard, Loci Comm., prooemium de natura theologiae; Hase Hutterus Redivivus § 11; H. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. Kirche § 2. —Fr. Junius, Opera Omnia I fol. 1375-1424; Polanus, S. Theol. lib. I cap. 1-4; Gomarus, Disput. Theol., thesis 1; Owen, Θεολογουμενα, sive de natura, ortu.... verae theologiae, libri sex. Oxon. 1661, lib. 1 cap. 1-4; Voetius, Diatribe de theologia. Ultraj. 1668; Coccejus, Summa theol. cap. 1. Others, however, had objections to making God the main concept of dogmatics, and preferred to call its object something else. Lombardus, Sent. I dist. 1, aligned himself with Augustine, who in de doctr. christ. lib. I cap. 2 says: omnis doctrina vel rerum est, vel signorum, and therefore assigned to theology two matters for treatment: res, i.e. God, world, man, and signa, i.e. sacraments. But this incomplete determination was soon abandoned and improved by the commentators. Alexander Halesius and Bonaventura, Proleg. qu. I in 1 Sent. and Breviloquium Pars I cap. 1, named Christ and his mystical body, the church; Hugo a St. Victor, De sacr. lib. [7] I c. 2, named the opera reparationis as the matter and content of theology or dogmatics. And Lutheran and Reformed theologians also defined the content of dogmatics in this way. Calovius, Isagoge ad theologiam 1662, most strongly contests that God is the proper object of theology; the etymology decides nothing here, theology on earth is quite something different than in heaven, we do indeed strive here after knowledge of God, but do not attain it. To make God the object of theology is just as wrong as to make the Prince the object of the politica, instead of the res publica, p. 283 s. 291 s.; the proper object of theology is homo in quantum est perducendus ad salutem p. 252, 290 or religion p. 299, 324. And thus also by Amesius, Medulla Theol. I c. 5; Maestricht, Theor. pract. Theol. I c. 1 § 47; Marck, Merch der Christ. Godg. I § 34; Moor, Comment. in Marckii Compendium I p. 112; Burmannus, Synopsis Theol. I c. 2 § 30; Limborch, Theol. Christ. I c. 1, the Deo vivere per Christum, the religio, the cultus Dei is made the content of dogmatics. The subjective, practical conception of theology thus gradually began to gain more acceptance. And when now the philosophy of Kant limited human cognitive capacity to the visible things, Agnosticism pronounced the unknowability of God, historical criticism undermined supernatural revelation, this subjective, practical conception has become the dominant one. Schleiermacher conceived dogmatics as Glaubenslehre, and defined the dogmata as Auffassungen der frommen Gemüthszustände, Der Christl. Glaube § 15, 16. And since then almost all theologians have made this transition as well. Not God, but religion is the object of theology. And indeed, religion in general as a historical and psychological phenomenon, Tiele, Gids Mei 1866; Idem, Theol. Tijdschr. 1ste aflev. 1867; Rauwenhoff, Theol. Tijdschr. 1869 bl. 1 v. 163 v. Wet op het Hooger Onderwijs van 1876, or more specifically the Christian religion, as it comes to manifestation in Scripture and congregation. Accordingly, dogmatics is then given as its content the religio or doctrina christiana, as it is either drawn from Holy Scripture, or confessed by one or another church, or known through personal experience. [8]

5. Now Thomas already in his time, against those who gave another description of Theology, remarked that they came to that because attendentes ad ea, quae in ista scientia tractantur et non ad rationem, secundum quam considerantur, Summa Theol. I qu. 1 art. 7. In theology and thus also in dogmatics, much more is treated than only God; also angel and man, heaven and earth, indeed all creatures come therein under discussion. But the question is, under what point of view and with what purpose they are treated in theology. For, all these things are also treated in other sciences; the distinctive character of their treatment in theology consists in this, that they are considered in their relation to God, ut ad principium et finem, Kaftan, Wahrheit der Chr. Rel. S. 3. Further, the definition of dogmatics as science of the religio christiana in itself would still not be so wrong, if, as in earlier time, thereunder was understood that religio which was objectively laid down in Scripture. But after Kant and Schleiermacher this definition has acquired another sense and dogmatics has become the description of that historical phenomenon which is called Christian religion and also reveals itself in a distinctive faith and doctrine. If now dogmatics is understood in this sense, then it ceases to be dogmatics and becomes simply description of what in a certain circle is held for truth in the religious domain. But science is concerned with truth; if dogmatics really wants to be science, then it is not satisfied with the description of what is, but it ought to indicate what must count as truth. Not the ὁτι, but the διοτι, not the reality, but the truth; not the real, but the ideal, the logical, the necessary it ought to demonstrate. As soon as, however, it attempts that, it at once returns to God, it becomes again theology in the proper sense. For, whoever makes Christianity into the object of a science of its own, proceeds not from the fact of the existence of that Christianity — for then treatment of that historical phenomenon in the litt. faculty would be completely sufficient — but from a special valuation of that fact, Gunning en Saussaye Jr., Het ethische beginsel der Theologie 47. Theology as a separate faculty-science presupposes that in those historical facts of Christianity God in a special way [9] has revealed himself, thus presupposes and demands the existence and the revelation of God. That is, theology demands, in order to be and to remain theology, that everything in it be considered sub ratione Dei. And if against this the unknowability of God be adduced, then the rule holds: qui nimis probat, nihil probat. If God is not knowable, thereby not only dogmatics and theology fall, but also religion, for this is built upon the knowledge of God. Thus dogmatics is the scientific system of the knowledge of God, i.e. of that knowledge which He concerning himself and concerning all creature as in relation to Him in his Word has revealed to the church.

§ 2. Encyclopaedic Place of Dogmatics.

1. About the place of dogmatics in the encyclopaedia of theology there is almost no difference. All assign it to Systematic or Dogmatic Theology, i.e. to that group of disciplines which occupy themselves with dogma, and to which, besides dogmatics, ethics, symbolics, history of dogma, and elenctics also belong. Only Schleiermacher, Kurze Darstellung des theol. Studiums, 2te Ausg. 1830 § 195, added it to historical theology, because it is the science von dem Zusammenhange der in der Kirche zu einer gegebenen Zeit geltenden Lehre, Der Christl. Glaube § 19, also Rothe, Zur Dogm. 1863 S. 14, and thus gives a statistics of the present. Schleiermacher came to this peculiar opinion, because he wished to separate dogmatics as strictly as possible from apologetics. While the latter, as part of philosophische theologie, has to show what Christian truth is, the former has only to describe what counts as truth in one or another Christian church. Yet Schleiermacher by this absolutely did not intend to ascribe to dogmatics only a reporting character; he does indeed assign to it a critical task and demands that it be systematic, that it give its own conviction, and that it describe not what has counted, but what counts, Dr. Is. van Dijk, Begrip en methode der Dogmatiek 38 v.; Hagenbach, Encycl. § 80. But [10] thereby it already goes beyond purely historical description. The Christian congregation cannot be satisfied with an objective report of its content of faith, but demands that its faith also be unfolded and set forth as truth. The dogmatician also does not stand neutrally outside and over against the faith of the congregation, as over against the religious doctrine of Mohammedans and Buddhists, but belongs to that congregation, and thus also describes what for him counts and must count as truth. And finally there is an essential difference between works such as those of Hase, Schmid, Schweizer and Heppe, which give an objective description of the Luth. and Geref. doctrine, and dogmatics, which wishes to demonstrate and present the truth of religious convictions. If Schleiermacher, calling dogmatics a historical discipline, meant by that nothing other than that it is a thetic, positive science, which does not seek its object but finds it and now describes it, then his intention is to be appreciated, but the designation nevertheless incorrect. If, however, he entertained the opinion that dogmatics had only to describe a historical given and made no claim to normative truth, then his view has very certainly been incorrect and nowadays is also generally rejected. Hagenbach, Encycl. § 80; Herzog2 3, 643.

2. Since dogmatics thus belongs to the disciplines of dogmatic theology, it must be well distinguished from its sisters. All disciplines in this part of theology have to do with dogma, i.e. with the truth, as God has revealed it, but each in its own way. It can be listened to, as it is confessed clearly and powerfully by the congregation in its confession, and then theologia symbolica arises. It can be presented in a simple, comprehensible form, as milk 1 Petr. 2:2 to the youthful members, the children of the congregation, and then theologia catechetica speaks, to be well distinguished from catechetics, the art of doing that. It can be maintained in its truth and right over against opponents, and then theologia elenctica accomplishes its task. It can also be set forth thetically and positively, but in a scientific, systematic form, for developed consciousness, and then dogmatics is practiced. All these disciplines [11] have in common with one another that they display the thesauri Sacrae Scripturae, but each in its own way. Dogmatics does that, as people used to say in former times, in a scholastic, school-like way, that is, in such a way as ought to take place in the schools of science. Naturally, if not everything, then much depends here on the standpoint that the dogmatician takes. If he, with the pietists and theologi biblici, assumes a sharp antithesis between Scripture- and church-doctrine, then he will adhere as narrowly as possible to Scripture, also in words and expressions, and will process the found material as little as possible by thinking. If he sees in the confession of the church, in the historia dogmatum, not a corruption but a development of Scriptural truth, then his dogmatics will be ecclesiastically and confessionally colored. And if he stands rationalistically over against both Scripture and church, the convictions of faith that he presents will bear above all a negative character. All that is a difference of method and will be discussed later. But precisely for that reason it is not good, with Prof. Doedes, Encyclopaedie, § 48, to distinguish a threefold dogmatics, viz. N. Test. or Christian, ecclesiastical, and critical. For thereby equal rank and right of existence are granted to all three, the confusion increases still more, the N. Test. dogmatics comes to stand as the Christian one par excellence over against the two others, the first two kinds of dogmatics can proceed entirely outside one’s own conviction, and critical dogmatics alone becomes that of one’s own independent view. The task of dogmatics is rather always one and the same. It is and by its nature can be nothing other than a scientific exposition of religious truth, an enarratio verbi Dei, a display of the thesauri Sacrae Scripturae, a παραδοσις εἰς τυπον διδαχης, Rom. 6:17, so that we have in it a forma and imago of the doctrina coelestis. Dogmatics therefore is itself not the Word of God; it is always only a faint image and a weak likeness of it; it is a fallible, human attempt to think and to speak after, in one’s own, free way, what God formerly, many times and in many ways, spoke through the Prophets and in these last days has spoken to us through the Son, Polanus, Syntagma p. 539; Heidegger, Corpus Theol. Christ. Loc. I § 58. The question how dogmatics can best fulfill this its task is a question of method and must later be treated separately. [12]

3. Most closely related to dogmatics is ethics. The word dogma formerly comprised both, the articuli fidei and the praecepta decalogi, the dogmata fidei and the dogmata morum. Ethics was either incorporated into dogmatics, with Lombardus, Thomas, Melanchton, Calvin, Martyr, Musculus, Sohnius etc., or worked out in a second part after dogmatics, with Polanus, Amesius, Heidegger, Wollebius, Wendelinus, Maestricht, Brakel etc. or also treated entirely independently, separated from dogmatics, with Danaeus, Ethices Christ. libri III 1577, Keckermann, Walaeus, Polyander, Amyraldus, Pictet, Driessen, Hoornbeek, Heidegger, Osterwald, J. A. Turretinus, Stapfer, Beck, Wyttenbach, Endeman, cf. A. Schweizer, Die Entw. des Moralsystems in der ref. Kirche, Stud. u. Krit. 1850, Heft 1; Gass, Gesch. der chr. Ethik II Bd., 1te Abth. 1886 S. 131 f.; Luthardt, Gesch. der chr. Eth., 2te Hälfte 1893. The influence of Aristotle, which already began with Melanchthon’s philosophia moralis 1539, held back the development of Christian ethics. The separation, which later set in, had as a consequence that ethics lacked a principle of its own, went to seek this at an inopportune time in philosophy, as a degenerate theol. ethics came to stand hostile over against dogmatics and displaced it from its place, and finally completely erased the boundaries between it and dogmatics. Proof is furnished by the fruitless attempts to distinguish the two. With Kant religion no longer has any content of its own, but is only the conception of the good as a command of God, Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft, ed. Rosenkranz S. 184. Schleiermacher gave to both as content the Christian life, but dogmatics describes that life in relative rest, ethics in relative movement, Die Christl. Sitte, ed. Jonas, 2te Aufl. 1884 S. 12-24. Rothe saw the insufficiency of this distinction and therefore made dogmatics into a historical subject, which treated the dogmata of the church, ethics into a speculative science, which develops its material dialectically out of the God-consciousness, Theol. Ethik, § 15. Dorner, Glaubenslehre I 9 f., Sittenlehre 47, Herzog2 4, 352, Wuttke, Christl. Sittenlehre I 9, Palmer, Moral des Christ. 24 f. e. a., distinguish the two as knowing and doing, understanding and will. Doedes, Encycl. § 52 no. 4 and Van Oosterzee, Chr. Dogm. § 4 no. 4 as doctrine of salvation and as doctrine of life; Gunning, Het ethische beginsel der Theologie 12 as life of Christ in the [13] church and in the individual; Daubanton, Theol. Stud. III 114 v. as doctrine of God and doctrine of man, etc. All these distinctions suffer from the defect that they seek a principial difference between dogmatics and ethics. And there is none. The theol. ethics, well to be distinguished from the philos. ethics, has no principle of its own, but is rooted wholly and entirely in dogmatics. The indicated lines of separation create a dualism between God and man, individual and community, salvation and life, rest and movement, understanding and will, and pave the way for ethics to go seeking a principle of its own along a speculative philosophical path, as with Rothe, to lose its theological character and from out of its speculative height to look down contemptuously upon historical, positive dogmatics. If dogmatics and ethics must be treated separately, which for various reasons is desirable, but is still dissuaded by many, such as Sartorius, Nitzsch, Beck, A. Dorner, Ueber das Verhältniss der Dogm. u. Ethik in der Theol. Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. Oct. 1889; Hofmann, Schriftbeweis I 14; Wendt, Die Aufgabe der System. Theol. 1894 S. 12 f., then the distinction between the two can lie only herein, that man, however at all times absolutely dependent on God, is nevertheless also a free and independently acting being. Reborn and renewed by the grace of the H. Spirit, sinful man also again receives desire and strength to live according to God’s commandments. Dogmatics describes the acts of God before and toward and in man; ethics describes the acts which the renewed man now does on the ground and in the power of those acts of God. In dogmatics man is passive, receives and believes; in ethics he himself appears acting. In dogmatics the articuli fidei, in ethics the praecepta decalogi are treated. There the fide is dealt with, here the caritate, obedientia, bonis operibus. Dogmatics develops what God is and does for man and makes him know God as his Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier; ethics sets forth what man now is and does for God, how man wholly and entirely, with understanding and will and all powers, devotes himself to God out of gratitude and love. Dogmatics is the system of the knowledge of God, ethics that of the service of God. Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. III 14.; H. Schultz, Grundriss der ev. Dogm. 2te Aufl. 1892 S. 3; Wendt, t. a. p. 17. Both sciences [14] are not independent over against each other, but together form one system, are corresponding members of one organism, Wendt, ib. 19.

§ 3. Method of Dogmatics.

1. By method of dogmatics is to be understood, in a broad sense, the manner in which the dogmatic material is obtained and treated. Three matters come into consideration in this connection: Scripture, the confession of the church, and the personal faith of the dogmatician. According as these three are neglected or used and then set in relation to one another, the point of departure and therefore the path and the result of dogmatics differ. In fact it always proceeds in such a way that every Christian, including the dogmatician, receives his convictions of faith from the circle in which he is born and brought up. Through preaching the church is founded and transplanted from generation to generation. Faith is from hearing. Tradition, declared infallible by Rome, was also not rejected altogether by the Reformation and soon thereafter became a power that put all freedom in fetters. One received the dogmatic material from the hands of the church and of the school. Materia theologiae proprie sunt loci communes, materia remota est S. Scriptura, say Alsted and Alting, Schweizer, Glaub. der ev. ref. K. I 210. And after the reaction of the so-called Theologia Biblica, in this century the social element in religion, the ecclesiastical character of dogmatics, has again been set in the clearest light from various sides. There is scarcely anyone who denies the confessional determinacy of religion and dogmatics, Schleiermacher, Glaub. § 19; Rothe, Zur Dogm. S. 27; Lange, Dogm. I 659 f.; Herzog2 12, 651 f. e. a. In this country the Groningen theologians again laid the emphasis on the church, H. de Groot, De Gron. Godg. 68, 71-74, 97 v. Instit. theol. nat. § 37; Voorlez. over de gesch. der opvoeding des menschdoms door God, II. 16de en 17de voorl. And even modern theologians usually, in the treatment of the doctrine of faith, attach themselves to the ecclesiastical dogma. Biedermann, Chr. Dogm. 2te Aufl. II. 170 f.; Lipsius, Dogm. § 7; Scholten, Leer der Herv. Kerk. [15]

2. But the church with her confession nevertheless cannot be the principium of dogmatics. The Greek and Roman church have indeed declared tradition to be infallible, but at all times churches, sects, and tendencies, to whom the Christian character could not be denied, have, over against that tradition, made an appeal to Holy Scripture. Indeed, in the Theologia biblica the attempt has been made, to arrive, without the help of church and confession, from Scripture alone at a doctrine of faith. It was already prepared by Erasmus, Joh. Jansen, Gesch. des deutschen Volkes II. 15, the Socinians, Herzog2 14, 389, and the Remonstrants, in the praefatie before the apologie of their confession. It found support among the many sects, which thereafter arose in and alongside the churches of the Reformation. It was introduced in the churches themselves by Calixtus and Coccejus, and in the 18th century gained more and more ground. Its intention becomes evident e.g. from the works of A. F. Büsching, Epitome Theol. Christ. e solis S. S. verbis concinnatae et ab omnibus rebus et verbis scholasticis purgatae, Gott. 1755. Thoughts on the character and the superiority of biblical dogmatic theology over the scholastic 1758. Even in this century such a Biblical tendency in dogmatics is advocated by Beck and his followers, by Doedes, Doctrine of salvation, 2nd ed. 1876, and also by Ritschl and his school, which, from the dogmatics corrupted by Greek philosophy, returns to the revelation of God in the person of Christ.

3. But even thereby the possibility of conflict between the doctrine of Scripture and the personal conviction of the dogmatician has not yet been removed. So long as the truth is objectively laid down for the dogmatician in Scripture or in the doctrine of the church, it seems that no right can be done to the personality of the dogmatician. Dogmatics then remains an exposition of the doctrine of Scripture or church, but perhaps without personal assent on the part of the dogmatician. That, however, is no dogmatics. For this does not consist in a historical report, but sets forth what must count as truth, and thus includes the personal conviction of the dogmatician. Since authority in matters of religion for many wholly fell away and the religio subjectiva was made independent of the religio objectiva, [16] religious consciousness, conscience, feeling, reason, or whatever one wishes to call it, has become the source and standard of religious representations. The whole of theology, through and after Schleiermacher, both among the orthodox and among the moderns, is consciousness-theology. Scholten, Schweizer, Biedermann, Lipsius may still, in the treatment of the dogmas, proceed from the ecclesiastical formulation, yet in the end they give nothing other than their personal faith. And theologians also such as Martensen, Dorner, Hofmann, Philippi, Frank e. a., take their point of departure in the consciousness of the believer. In this country Van Oosterzee, Dogm. § 10, included Christian consciousness among the sources of dogmatics. Des Amorie van der Hoeven Jr. versified in Geloof des harten: the inexpressible word stands to be read in our heart, and Christ gave it sounds. Beets, Dichtwerken IV 130 sang: To be wholly objective, is the demand, is human. But would it be possible? Oh, do not soothe yourself with any semblance! The systems are personal or inhuman. And prof. Van Manen, in his inaugural oration at Groningen, pointed to the personal character of doctrinal theology, Gron. 1884. From that personal character of dogmatics Doedes, Encycl. bl. 168 v. explains the boundless confusion that prevails in its domain.

4. Even this survey of the three dogmatic directions makes it clear that none of the three can do without the other. Each, taken by itself, is one-sided and lapses into error. The critical direction, which rejects confession and Scripture as a source of knowledge and wants to derive all religious truth from the subject, is in the first place already in conflict with experience. Also religiously we are products of our environment. We receive our religious representations and impressions from those who care for and educate us, and remain at all times bound to the circle in which we live. A good psychology shows that intellect and heart, reason and conscience, feeling and imagination cannot on any terrain count as a source of knowledge of the truth. Just as we are physically bound to nature and must receive food and drink, shelter and clothing from it, so we are also psychically, in art, science, religion, morality dependent on the world outside us. All our knowledge comes from outside; there are no ideae innatae. Feeling in particular cannot be considered as a source of knowledge [17], for feeling is never a prius, but always a posterius; it reacts only to that which affects it and then gives a sensation of pleasure or displeasure, of agreeable or disagreeable, Tholuck, art. Gefühl in Herzog2; Bender, Jahrb. f. deutsche Theol. 1872 S. 659 f.; Philippi, Kirchl. Glaub. I 60 f.; Hodge, System. Theol. I 65 f.; Hoekstra, Godg. Bijdr. 1864 bl. 1-43. Id. Philosophical Doctrine of Religion, Amst. 1894 bl. 59 v. 213 v. The autonomous explaining of the religious and moral human being always goes together with deism or pantheism. Deism makes the human being independent of God and world, teaches the self-sufficiency of his reason and leads to rationalism; pantheism lets God come to revelation and self-consciousness in the human being and cultivates mysticism. Both destroy objective truth, leave reason and feeling, intellect and heart to themselves, and end in unbelief or superstition. Reason criticizes away all revelation, and feeling gives the Roman Catholic just as much right to imagine Mary as the sinless queen of heaven as it gives the Protestant to combat this belief, Schweizer, Glaub. der ev. ref. K. I 94. It is therefore remarkable that Holy Scripture never refers the human being to himself as a source of knowledge and standard of religious truth. How could it do so, where it describes the psychic human being wholly and entirely, in his intellect Ps. 14:3; Rom. 1:21-23; Rom. 8:7; 1 Cor. 1:23, 2:14; 2 Cor. 3:5; Ef. 4:23; Gal. 1:6, 7; 1 Tim. 6:5; 2 Tim. 3:8; in his heart Gen. 6:5; 8:21; Jer. 17:9; Ezech. 36:26; Mark. 7:21; in his will Joh. 8:34; Rom. 7:14; 8:7; Ef. 2:3; and also in his conscience Jer. 17:9; 1 Cor. 8:7, 10, 12; 10:28; 1 Tim. 4:2; Tit. 1:15 as darkened and corrupted by sin. For the knowledge of the truth it always refers him to the objective revelation, to the word, the instruction, that has proceeded from God, Deut. 4:1; Jes. 8:20; Joh. 5:39; 2 Tim. 3:15; 2 Petr. 1:19 etc. And also, where the objective truth through faith becomes our personal property, that faith is nevertheless never like a fountain that brings forth the living water out of itself, but like a channel that conveys the water to us from elsewhere.

5. Rome has understood this impossibility of a religious and moral [18] autonomy excellently, and therefore has bound man, on pain of the salvation of his soul, to the infallible church. This, and thus in the last instance the infallible Pope, is for the Roman Christian the principium of his faith. The Papa dixit is the end of all contradiction. But history teaches that this theoretical or practical infallibility of the church has at all times encountered contradiction and opposition not only in Rome, but also in the churches of the Reformation. Not the unbelieving, but the pious circles are in the first place those who have felt this power of the hierarchy as a constricting bond for the conscience. Through all centuries there has been not only a scientific, social, political, but also an intimately religious and moral opposition against the hierarchical power of the church. It will not do to explain this opposition from unbelief and disobedience, and, as if intentionally, to fail to recognize the religious motives that lay at the foundation of the opposition of the various sects and directions. No one dares to condemn all these sects, because they rose in revolt against the church and its tradition. Even Rome shrinks back from this conclusion. The extra ecclesiam nulla salus is a confession that even to the strongest faith still falls too heavy. The law, which we see ruling in every domain, therefore also continues in religion and morality. There is on the one hand a revolutionary spirit, which wants to demolish to the ground all that has become historical, in order then to begin building anew; but there is also a false conservatism, which takes pleasure in leaving the existing untouched merely because it exists and, according to the well-known word of Calvin, malum bene positum non movere. Everywhere and in every domain there is in its time a certain radicalism needed, in order to restore the equilibrium, to let development proceed, and not to let the stream of life silt up. In art and science, in state and society and so also in religion and morality, there gradually arises a rut, which suppresses and violates the rights of personality, genius, invention, inspiration, freedom, conscience. But then also always in its time the man arises, who cannot endure under that pressure, who throws off from himself the yoke of servitude, and who again takes up the cause of the freedom of man, of the freedom of the Christian. [19] Those are the turning points in history. Thus Christ himself once acted against the tradition of the elders and returned to the law and the prophets. And thus once the Reformation had the courage, not for the sake of any scientific, social or political interest, but in the name of the Christian man, to protest against Rome’s hierarchy. Even among the sects and directions that later arose in the Protestant churches, that religious, ethical motive is many times not to be denied. The theologia biblica also defends an important part of religious truth. If church and theology prefer rest above the struggle, they themselves awaken the opposition, which will remind them of their Christian calling and task. Rome can of course never approve such an opposition and must condemn it already beforehand. The Reformation itself has arisen from it and cannot withhold from others what it took for itself. And Holy Scripture, although far from all revolutionary resistance, has nevertheless legitimated the right of contradiction against every human command that conflicts with God’s Word in the royal word of Peter: πειθαρχειν δει θεῳ μαλλον ἠ ἀνθρωποις, Hd. 5:29.

6. Thus only that method seems to be the true one, which is applied by the biblical theologians. But this direction too suffers from great one-sidedness. It imagines that it stands wholly unprejudiced over against Scripture and reproduces its content purely and objectively. But it forgets that every believer and every dogmatician first of all receives his convictions of faith from the hand of his church. He therefore never comes to Scripture from outside, without any knowledge and preconceived opinion, but brings from home already a certain conception of the content of revelation with him and thus also views Scripture with the spectacles which the church holds before him. Every dogmatician, when he sets to work, whether he acknowledges it or not, stands in that historical manifestation of Christianity in which he was born and brought up, and comes to Scripture as a Reformed or Lutheran or Roman Christian. One cannot here either simply rid oneself of one’s environment; one is always a child of one’s time, product of one’s environment, Toorenenbergen, De Chr. Geloofsleer, bl. 6.; Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. 1889 S. 8 f. The outcome accordingly answers to this expectation; all dogmatic handbooks which have been brought to light by the [20] biblical direction faithfully reflect the personal and ecclesiastical standpoint of the author; they can lay claim to no greater objectivity than that of the ecclesiastical dogmaticians. The pure Gospel, which Ritschl e.g. finds back in Luther and in Jesus, corresponds wholly to the conception which he himself has formed of it. All these biblical directions are therefore also continually judged by history; they do their use for a time and awaken a forgotten truth, but they do not change the stream of ecclesiastical life and have no permanence in themselves. Usually they proceed from a religious conviction which can no longer be found even in Scripture. Indeed they always begin by appealing from the confession to Scripture, but soon they go back from Scripture to the person of Christ and end with it by also assailing his authority. And history always shows again that Christianity has been preserved relatively most purely in the confessions of the churches. But such a biblical conception is not only practically impossible, it is also theoretically incorrect. Scripture is no lawbook, of which the articles only need to be looked up in order, in a particular case, to know its opinion. It is composed of many books by different persons, from very different times, with divergent content. It is not an abstract, but an organic, living unity. It nowhere contains a sketch of the doctrine of faith, but this must be derived from the whole organism of Scripture. Scripture is not arranged so that we should parrot it, but that we, as free children of God, should think it through. But then all so-called Voraussetzungslosigkeit and objectivity is also impossible. Then so much study and reflection of the subject is connected with it, that one person is utterly unfit for it. Centuries are needed for it. The church is appointed for it, which has the promise of the guidance of the Spirit in all truth. Whoever isolates himself from the church, i.e. from Christendom, from the whole history of dogma, loses the Christian truth. He becomes like a branch that has been torn from the tree and dies away, a member that has been separated from the body and is therefore destined for death. Only in the communion of saints is the length and breadth, the depth and height of the love of Christ to be understood, Ef. [21] 3:18. In addition to that, the advocates of this direction forget that Christianity is universal and can and must enter into all forms and conditions. They set grace in hostile opposition to nature and do not reckon enough with the incarnation of the Word. For just as truly as the Son of God became man, so also the thought of God is laid down in Scripture, flesh and blood in the consciousness of men. Dogmatics is and ought to be, the divine thought completely entered and taken up into our human consciousness, expressed freely and independently in our language, in its essence fruit of the times, in its form of this time (Da Costa). Therefore the antithesis is also incorrect which is often made between Biblical Theology and Dogmatics, as though the former would reproduce the content of Scripture, the latter that of the ecclesiastical dogmas. For dogmatics intends nothing else than to expound the thoughts of God which He has laid down in the H. Scripture, Maresius, Syst. Theol. loc. 1. § 8. But it does that, as is proper, in a scientific manner, in a form and according to a method, as are scientifically required. In this sense the Reformed formerly defended the right of the so-called theologia scholastica. They had absolutely nothing against the revealed truth also being presented in a simpler form under the name of theologia positiva, catechetica etc. But they most strongly contested that these two differed in content; what distinguished them was only a difference in form and method. And by taking this standpoint, they on the one hand maintained as strongly as possible the unity and coherence of faith and theology, of church and school, but on the other hand also kept high the scientific character of theology. The thoughts of God might be ever so lofty and wonderful, yet they were no aphorisms, but formed an organic unity, a systematic whole, which could also be thought through and represented in a scientific form. Scripture itself urges to this theological labour, when it lays the strongest emphasis everywhere not on abstract knowing, but on doctrine and truth, knowledge and wisdom.

7. A good method of dogmatics must therefore take account of all three data, of Scripture, church, and personal conviction [22]. Only then is it possible to be preserved from gross one-sidedness. Yet it then still comes down to determining the relation in which these three data stand to one another. As a rule it goes thus, that we receive our religious convictions from our environment. That is the case in all religions, and also in Christianity. We are all born as members of a church. The covenant of grace takes us up from our birth onward. The promises of God in Christ apply not only to believers but also to their seed. In critical times, like our own, it often happens that later there comes a painful breach between the faith of childhood and personal conviction. If this breach is of such a nature that one must indeed leave one’s own church but can nevertheless join oneself to another historically existing church, then it is relatively quickly healed. There is then indeed change, but no loss of religion itself, of the Christian name, of the communion, of the confession. There then still remains a dogma that stands firm and offers us support and comfort in life. On this standpoint, therefore, a dogmatics also still remains possible, which describes the truth of God as it found recognition in a particular church. But often doubt lays hold much more deeply into religious life. Many lose all faith and come to skepticism and agnosticism; here there is no longer any question of dogmatics, of faith, of confession, of communion; mere negation is incapable of founding communion. Others, however, no longer being able to maintain the faith of childhood, attempt, under serious exertion and struggle, to acquire for themselves a religious conviction of their own. Here too, of course, the influence of the environment makes itself felt; one never comes to a religious conviction wholly independently. Only, in that case, there is this difference, that what was no longer found in a church is now sought in a philosophical school. Every philosophy in this century has in turn been seized upon, in order to awaken and maintain certain religious convictions. Also on this standpoint there is no longer any question of dogmatics. There is only still a religious faith, a Glaubenslehre, a philosophy of religion, a philosophical doctrine of religion.

Dogmatics is therefore possible only for him who stands in the communion of faith with one or another Christian church. [23] This also lies in the nature of religious faith. Religious representations are distinguished from scientific ones, inter alia, in that they do not rest on one’s own insight, on the authority of any man, but only on the authority of God. But this includes that they have also found faith and recognition in a religious circle, i.e. in a church. Only therein does the religious authority of a religious representation become knowable. A church does not believe its confession because it scientifically perceives the truth of it, but solely and only on the ground of the Word of God, whether this expresses itself only in Scripture or also through ecclesiastical organs. He who seeks his religious conviction with a philosophical school confuses religion with science and receives nothing but an always uncertain, by many contested, sententia or opinio doctoris. Religious faith, however, by virtue of its own nature is bound to a community and to its confession. Here too it is as everywhere else. Abstractions, universalia, do not exist in reality. The tree, man, science, language, religion, theology are nowhere to be found. There are only particular trees, men, sciences, languages, and religions; just as a language is connected with a people, just as science and philosophy are always practised in a certain direction and school, so religion and theology are to be found and to be cultivated only in a kindred community. A church is the natural soil for religion and theology. Just as there is not already the church, so there is also not religion and theology. There are only different churches, and thus also different theologies. And this will last until the congregation in Christ shall have reached its full maturity and all have come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God. This unity is not to be seized with violence, but can best be promoted if each thinks through the faith of his own church, and presents it most purely. Not apart from the existing churches, but through these, Christ prepares for himself his one holy, catholic congregation. And not apart from the different ecclesiastical dogmas, but through these, the unity of the knowledge of God is prepared and obtained. In this way the dogmatician will also be able best to work fruitfully for the purification and the development of the religious life and the doctrine of his church. Attachment to what exists is a condition for [24] improvement in the future. In the now lies what will be, Twesten, Vorles. über die Dogm. 2e Aufl. I 46. This significance of the church for theology and dogmatics is grounded in the connection that Christ himself has laid between both. He has promised to his church the H. Spirit, who would lead her into the truth. The history of dogma thereby comes to stand in a glorious light. It is the explication of Scripture, Lange, Christl. Dogm. I 3; Schoeberlein, Princip. und System der Dogm. 26; the exposition which the H. Spirit in the church has given of the treasures of the Word. The dogmatician therefore has not to draw the material for his dogmatics only from the written confession of his own church, but to consider this in connection with the whole distinctive faith and life of his church, and this again with the history of the entire church of Christ. He therefore stands on the shoulders of the forefathers. He feels himself surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, and lets his testimony flow together with that voice of many waters. Every dogmatics ought also to join in the hymn of praise that is brought to God by the church of all ages.

8. But by that the history of dogma and the confession of the church have not yet been elevated to an infallible authority. There is a distinction between the path along which the dogmatician is formed and the principle from which dogmatics receives its material. In every science the practitioner begins to live from the tradition. The first knowledge of his discipline he always acquires through authority. He must first take up into himself the history of his discipline and climb to the level and the present state of his science, in order thereafter to set to work independently and to acquire for himself an own insight into the object of his investigation. But no one will therefore regard the tradition, which was of so great importance pedagogically, as the source of his science. It is no different with the dogmatician. Pedagogically the church precedes Scripture. But according to logical order Scripture is the principium unicum of church and theology. In case of difference, the possibility of which from a Reformation standpoint can never be denied, church and confession must yield to Scripture.

Not the church but Scripture is αὐτοπιστος, judex controversiarum, [25] sui ipsius interpres. Nothing may be placed on one and the same level with it. Church, confession, tradition, everything must regulate itself according to it, submit itself to it. The Remonstrants did indeed accuse the Reformed that they, by the confession, fell short with respect to the authority, the sufficiency, and the perfection of Holy Scripture. But the Reformed, although in this dispensation of the church deeming confession necessary, in order to explain the Word of God, to ward off heresies, and to maintain the unity of the faith, contended as strongly as possible that the confession would have even the least authority alongside Scripture. Scripture alone is norma and regula fidei et vitae, the confession deserves faith only because and insofar as it agrees and remains in agreement with Scripture, as a fallible work of men, revisable and examinable by Scripture. The confession is thus at most norma secundaria, non veritatis sed doctrinae in aliqua ecclesia receptae, and therefore binding for all who wish to live in communion with the church. Within the church the confession has authority as an accord of communion, as an expression of the faith of the congregation, but it believes and maintains that confession only on the ground of Scripture, Voetius, Pol. Eccl. IV 1-74; Turret, Theol. El. Loc. 18. cap. 30; Examen van het Ontwerp van Tolerantie, 8e Sam. bl. 59-136; Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. VI 353 s., etc. All Christian churches are one in the confession that Holy Scripture is the principium of theology, and the Reformation unanimously recognized it as principium unicum. The Netherl. Confession expresses that in art. 5, and all Lutheran and Reformed theologians are in agreement with this, Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. § 4; Heppe, Dogm. der ev. ref. K. loc. 2. It is true that in art. 2 of the Ned. Conf. it is confessed that God is known by two means, namely by nature and Scripture, and by all Reformed theologians the theologia naturalis has been maintained in its truth and value. But in the first period, before rationalism had falsified Reformed theology, it was clearly seen that nature and Scripture did not stand independently and separately alongside one another, any more than the theologia naturalis and revelata. Calvin incorporated the theol. naturalis into the corpus of Christian dogmatics, and said that Scripture was the spectacles by which the believer beheld God more clearly also in the works of nature, Instit. I. 6, 1. The theologia naturalis originally had absolutely not as its aim to pave the way gradually and progressively to the theologia revelata; with it one did not adopt the provisional standpoint of reason, in order then by reasoning and proof to climb up to the standpoint of faith. But from the beginning the dogmatician stood on the foundation of faith, and as a Christian, as a believer, now also viewed nature; and then he discovered, with his Christian eye, armed with Holy Scripture, also in nature traces of that God whom he through Scripture, in Christ, had learned to know as his Father. Subjectively, therefore, in dogmatics it was not first natural reason and then faith that spoke; it was always the believing Christian who in the catechism, in the confession, in dogmatics expressed his faith. And likewise, objectively, nature did not stand as an autonomous and independent principium alongside Holy Scripture, both supplying their own set of truths. But nature was viewed in the light of Scripture, and Scripture contained not only the truth revealed in the strict sense, but also contained the truths which the believer can discover in nature. Thus Alsted in his Praecognita Theologiae 1623. p. 115, indeed acknowledges a theologia naturalis in the unregenerate but this is confused and dark; for the believer the principia et conclusiones theologiae naturalis are in Scripture clearly and distinctly repeated, Hodge, System. Theol. I 11. 15; Shedd, Dogm. Theol. I 68.

Even though there is therefore a knowledge of God from nature, dogmatics nevertheless has only a single principium externum, viz. Holy Scripture, just as it also has only a single principium internum, viz. believing reason. And now not merely in such a way that Holy Scripture would be only norma and no source, but specifically in the sense of principium theologiae. There is a great difference between earlier theologians and those of the present time. Since Schleiermacher went back from the object to the subject, a crowd of theologians have come to see in the congregation and its confession the source of dogmatic truth. Not only have they, and rightly, recognized and expressed the confessional and ecclesiastical character of dogmatics, but they have also made the confession of the congregation into a source of knowledge and lowered Holy Scripture to norma, Schleiermacher, Glaub. § 19; Rothe, Zur Dogm. 27; Schoeberlein 23; Gunning en Saussaye, Het ethisch beginsel 12; [27] Dr. Van Dijk, Begrip en methode der dogm. 14 v.; Dr. Daubanton, Confessie en Dogmatiek 29 v., or also placed the confession alongside Holy Scripture as a source of knowledge, Lange, Dogm. II 3; Van Oost § 9; Von der Goltz, § 18; Reiff, I 256. And Dr. Gunning t. a. p. 31-34 even asserted that the doctrine of Scripture as source instead of as norma was not Reformed, but actually Remonstrant. But this representation rests on an incorrect conception of the relation between church and Scripture. In the first time of the Christian congregation there could still be talk of a pure tradition, which ran parallel with the writings of the Apostles. But those two streams have long since flowed together. There is now no knowledge of Christian truth any longer, except only from Holy Scripture. Even though the religious life in the congregation nourishes itself much more from devotional works than from Scripture, Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. II2 12, they are nevertheless only channels through which the truth of Holy Scripture is supplied to believers in a more comprehensible form. Moreover, dogmatics is something entirely different from symbolics. This describes and explains the confession of the church. But dogmatics dogmatizes, i.e. it sets forth what in the religious domain does not count as truth, but must count as truth. It ought indeed to stand in connection with the confession, as also with the school and the church. But dogmatics nevertheless stands independently alongside the confession; it expounds the truth of God in a way that is its own. Scripture has been given to the church, but also to the school, to science; and both read and investigate, explain and describe its content. Confession and dogmatics thereby act upon one another; the confession in its turn is just as dependent on dogmatics as the latter is on the former. Dogmas have not been produced by the church, but are fruit of theology. First there were the Apologists, then came Nicaea. First the Reformers appeared and later the Protest. confessions followed etc., Harnack, Dogmengesch. I 10, and my article Theol. Stud. 1891, bl. 258-275. And finally the doctrine of Holy Scripture as unicum principium theologiae is also only purely Reformation and Reformed. The Nederl. Conf. teaches in art. 2 and 7 expressly that the knowledge of God and his service is drawn only from Scripture and that it is thus indeed a source and not only norma. Calvin, Instit. I. cap. 6, Melanchthon in the praefatio before his Loci and all [28] dogmatici declare that the knowledge of God can be obtained only clearly and perfectly from Scripture. Every dogmatics almost begins with the doctrine of Scripture as unicum principium theologiae. The properties of the auctoritas, sufficientia, perfectio, which the Protestants ascribed to Holy Scripture over against Rome, argue the same, Daubanton, Theol. Stud. 1885, bl. 191-210. That in doing so they preferred not to speak of fons, but of principium, does not in the least weaken this wholly unique significance of Scripture for dogmatics. The name principium is even to be preferred above that of fons. The latter expression indicates the relation between Scripture and theology as a mechanical one; and makes it appear as if the dogmas could be drawn from Holy Scripture as water from the spring. But principium points to an organic connection. Dogmas are not in Scripture, but their material lies contained in it. Scripture contains the germs, the seeds from which the dogmas, under the instruction of the Spirit in the church, grow up. Dogmatics is the truth of Scripture, passed through the thinking consciousness of man, and reproduced in scientific form.

9. Thereby, however, the personal character of doctrinal theology has not been done away with. That cannot and may not be, because dogmatics is not a historical report, but an indication of what, in the religious domain, must count as truth. This personal character of dogmatics, however, does not flow from the fact that every bond to the object is cut through and each person now simply sets forth whatever he pleases. For then dogmatics ceases to be a science and is nothing but a private opinion. If dogmatics, according to Prof. Van Manen bl. 23, must abandon the delusion that there is a truth given from without, objective, then there is no dogmatics any more. Then there are only subjective opinions, of which the one is just as good as the other. Every science which lays claim to that name must have its own object, existing in the real world; further presupposes that that object is knowable; and is then bound to that object as strictly as possible. For dogmatics no other requirement holds; it too must have its own object, that object must be knowable, and to that object it is absolutely bound. But the denial of such a proper, knowable object may never [29] be made good with an appeal to the personal character of doctrinal theology. That is a confusion of two entirely different questions. Of a personal character of dogmatics there can only then be mention, if it is established beforehand that it has its own object.

For every science, of nature, history, law, morals, etc., has an object that is present in the real world. But for that reason every science nevertheless still bears a personal character; the one certainly less than the other, mathematics e.g. to a far lesser degree than history. But in proportion as the sciences are less formal, and lie nearer to the center, in that proportion the influence of personality increases. A human being can, in the practice of science, no more than anywhere else, rid himself of himself; he brings his upbringing, view of life, heart and conscience, sympathies and antipathies with him, and these of themselves exercise influence on his research and reflection. This now is in itself not wrong; the dualism that divides the human being into two halves and, in the practice of the sciences, reduces him to a pure intellect, is practically impossible and theoretically falsely conceived. The only requirement is that the human being always and everywhere, also when he practices science, be a good human being, a man of God suitably equipped for every good work. And it is no different in dogmatics; indeed here all this is a fortiori the case. For dogmatics has precisely to do with the deepest convictions of faith of the human being and with the center of all science. Here above all it is the requirement that the human being be a good human being, that he stand in the right relation to God, whom to know is eternal life.

Therefore it is also the doctrine of Scripture, that the objective revelation is completed in the subjective illumination. The Reformed doctrine of Scripture stands in the closest connection with that of the testimonium Spiritus Sancti. The verbum externum does not remain outside us, but through faith becomes a verbum internum. The H. Spirit, who gave Scripture, also gives testimony to that Scripture in the heart of believers. Scripture itself provides for its own triumph in the consciousness of the congregation of Christ. For that reason the believer feels himself bound with his whole soul to Scripture. In it he is introduced by [30] the H. Spirit, the Doctor ecclesiae. And all his intention is, to take up those thoughts of God, laid down in Scripture, into his consciousness and to understand them by thinking. But in doing so he remains a human being, with his own disposition, upbringing, insight; faith itself does not arise in every human being in the same way and is not in all of the same strength; reason differs in sharpness, depth, clarity of thought; the influence of sin continues to have effect, also in his consciousness and understanding. And as a consequence of all these influences, doctrinal theology continues to bear a personal character. That is the case here, as in every science. Even prophets and apostles saw the same truth from different sides. The unity of faith has no more been attained than the unity of knowledge. But precisely through the diversity God leads His congregation toward unity. When that unity of faith and of knowledge has been attained, dogmatics too has completed its task. As long as, however, its calling remains entrusted to it, to interpret on the estate of science the thoughts which God has laid down for us in the H. Scripture. For this task the dogmatician will be equipped in the most excellent way, if he lives in communion of faith with the church of Christ and confesses Scripture as the only and sufficient principium of the knowledge of God. The dogmatician thus receives the content of his faith from the hands of the church. In a paedagogical sense he comes through the church to Scripture. But in doing so he may, no more than any believer, remain standing there. He has the calling, to analyze the dogmata, which he has come to know through the church, down to their very fibers, and to investigate how they are rooted in the H. Scripture. Thus his task would consist in this, that he first handed over the dogmata objectively, and thereafter reduced them to the H. Scripture; his method would then be historical-analytical. But although this method for a single dogma in itself may perhaps have much that is recommendable; and although it is in dogmatics also of subordinate value; yet it has this against it, that with it one does not arrive at a scientific system. The dogmatician therefore does better to walk another path; not from the river to the source, but from the source to the river. Without doing injustice to the truth, that the church in a paedagogical sense precedes Scripture, he can nevertheless take his position in Scripture itself as the principium theologiae, and then from [31] there develop the dogmata. He then reproduces, as it were, the labor of thought of the church; he shows us how the dogmata have grown organically out of Scripture; how not one single text, but Scripture in its entirety is the firm, broad soil on which the dogmatic building has arisen. This synthetic, genetic method then provides him in the second place the advantage, that he can also point out the unity and the mutual connection of the dogmata. The different dogmata are not isolated propositions, but they form a unity. There is actually only one dogma, which has been born from Scripture and has branched and split into all kinds of particular dogmata. The method of the dogmatician can and may be nothing other than systematic. And finally he still has the calling, in this genetic and systematic development of the dogmata also to draw attention to possible deviations, to supplement possible gaps, and thus to labor at the development of the dogmata in the future. That is the critical task, to which the dogmatician is called, but which in the systematic treatment of the dogmatic material is of itself already enclosed. In that way he seeks in dogmatics to give an exposition of the treasures of wisdom and of knowledge, which are hidden in Christ and are displayed in Scripture.

§ 4. Division of Dogmatics.

1. As soon as dogmatics arose, a division was also needed of the material which was treated in it. That division was at the beginning extremely simple. The three principal works of Clemens Alexandrinus, viz. Cohortatio ad gentes, Paedagogus and Stromata are indeed connected together by the idea of the education of the human race by the Logos, but nevertheless contain no proper division; and the last work does indeed develop the true philosophy of Christianity over against Heathendom and Judaism, but Clemens himself says at the beginning of the 6th and at the close of the 7th book of that work, that in it he only wrote what came into his mind, and that one therefore [32] must not be surprised at the lack of order. Origenes’ work περι ἀρχων, de principiis, already attempts to bring some order into the material, and accordingly has four main concepts: God, world, freedom, revelation; the first book deals with God, the Trinity and the angels; the second with the world, the God of the O. Test., the good and evil, the incarnation and the resurrection; the third with freedom of the will, the temptations and the end of the world; and the fourth with Holy Scripture, its inspiration and interpretation. The various loci concerning God, angel, man, Christ, etc. already come to light here, but not yet in good order and correct delimitation, and also still incomplete; the doctrine of the sacraments is lacking, that concerning Scripture comes at the end, and a principle of division is not yet to be discovered. This division of Origenes is taken over in improved form by Theodoretus in the 5th book of his Αἱρετικης κακομυθιας ἐπιτομη, haereticarum fabularum compendium, which contains a sketch of the orthodox faith. Successively, it deals with God, world, angel and man, Christ, Scripture and sacrament, resurrection and judgment, while finally some ethical capita concerning virginity, repentance, fasting are added to it. Furthermore, this same schema underlies the Ἐκδοσις ἀκριβης της ὀρθοδοξου πιστεως of Joh. Damascenus. The division into four books was first introduced in the Middle Ages, after it had been translated into Latin by the jurist Johannes Burgundis from Pisa at the command of Eugenius III, and Petrus Lombardus had taken the lead in his Sententiae with the division into four books. Damascenus begins with the doctrine of God, Trinity, attributes (book I), then speaks about the world, creation, angels, men and providence (book II), subsequently treats the person and the work of Christ (book III and IV, cap. 1-9), and ends with some soteriological (faith, baptism, etc.), ethical (law, sabbath, etc.) and eschatological capita (book IV, cap. 10-28).

In addition, the Apostles’ Creed, in connection with the baptismal formula, already early offered another division for the dogmatic material. The Expositio symboli of Rufinus and Augustine’s book de fide et symbolo provided commentaries on it, and treated the main matters of the Christian faith on the basis of the trinitarian schema, which lay at the foundation of the apostolic symbol [33]. But Augustine was not only in this division an example for many later writers, but in his Enchiridium ad Laurentium he treats the whole dogmatic and ethical material under the three Christian virtues faith, hope, and love; however, in a very uneven manner. After an introduction, cap. 1-8, Augustine sets forth that which must be believed from cap. 9 to cap. 113, chiefly on the basis of the apostolic symbol, but then devotes only three capita (114-116) to hope, in which he takes the Lord’s Prayer as guiding thread, and the remaining capita 117-122 to love. Faith, prayer, and commandment thus form here the schema of dogmatics, which later has often, especially in catechisms, been adopted. Isidore of Seville also, in the first book of his Sententiarum sive de summo bono libri III, in the main follows this order of the apostolic symbol and in 30 capita treats of God, creation, world, angels and men, Christ, the H. Spirit, the church, Scripture and sacraments, resurrection and last things, and then in the second and third book treats exclusively ethical material.

2. The arrangement which Lombardus chose in the Middle Ages is more reminiscent of that of Origenes, Theodoretus, and Damascenus. His Sententiae are divided into four books. The first treats de mysterio trinitatis; the second de rerum corporalium et spiritualium creatione et formatione: creation, angels, the hexaemeron, man, the fall, sin; the third de incarnatione verbi: the person and the work of Christ, faith, hope, love, the 4 principal virtues and other ethical subjects; the fourth book de sacramentis: on 7 sacraments, the resurrection, the judgment, heaven and hell. Here already perceptible progress is to be observed: the subjects are not only better grouped and delimited, but the whole is also split into four parts, each with its own, distinct object; the ethical material is not, as with Theodoretus, added at the end, but incorporated into the dogmatics itself; the sacraments, formerly only briefly discussed, are treated at length; on the other hand, the arrangement leaves much to be desired in many respects, and various subjects such as Scripture, church, and especially also the soteriological, are almost not mentioned at all. Most Scholastics attached themselves to this work of Lombardus [34] and wrote commentaries on it. Some introduced fortunate improvements in the ordering of the material. Thomas, e.g., develops in the prologue to his commentary on the Sententiae in a fine way, that first God, and then his works: creation, restoration and consummation are the subjects of the 4 books. But a place of honor is also occupied, from a formal point of view, by the Breviloquium of Bonaventura. First, Bonaventura has a prooemium precede his work and in it gives in 7 paragraphs a fine overview of the doctrine of Scripture, especially of its content, which he briefly unfolds in its length and breadth, depth and height. And then he gives in 7 partes a sketch of the truth of faith; pars 1 treats de trinitate, pars 2 de creatura mundi, pars 3 de corruptela peccati, pars 4 de incarnatione verbi, pars 5 de gratia Spiritus Sancti, pars 6 de medicina sacramentali, and pars 7 de statu finalis judicii. Here there is a firm, methodical course, a complete mastery of the material, a pure delimitation of the subjects, and also a consciously chosen principle of division; for in pars 1 cap. 1 Bonaventura says that, although theology treats all those seven subjects, it is nevertheless scientia una, for God is not only rerum primum principium et exemplar effectivum in creatione, sed etiam refectivum in redemptione et perfectivum in retributione. Entirely different is the division of Thomas in his Summa. This work has three partes, the partes are divided into quaestiones, and these again into articuli. Pars I treats in 119 quaestiones of God and his creation, before and outside sin: God as principium and exemplar of all things. Pars II speaks of man as his imago, and again falls apart into a prima and secunda; the prima comprises 114 quaestiones, begins with the final end of man, namely blessedness, and develops with a view to that the will qu. 6-17, the good and sinful quality of human acts, passions and habits qu. 18-54, the virtues in general qu. 55-70, the sins in their division, seat, cause and consequences, qu. 71-89, then the external and internal motives that spur man to the good, the law, the gospel, grace and merit, qu. 90-114. The secunda of this second part then treats in 189 quaestiones of the sins and virtues in particular, especially according to the order of the three theological and the four cardinal [35] virtues. After thus the final end of man has been determined and his virtues and sins have been set in the light, Pars III describes the way by which we can come to the blessedness of immortal life, that is, Christ and the sacraments. In 90 quaestiones the person and the work of Christ and then the concept of sacrament, baptism, confirmation, eucharist and poenitentia are described. Here the work of Thomas ends; at his death he left it unfinished. The supplementum, which has been added to it from his other writings, contains 99 quaestiones, continues the sacraments, and treats in qu. 69-99 the state of souls after death, the resurrection, the judgment, blessedness and damnation. An appendix speaks in 3 quaestiones still about purgatory. The division of Thomas deviates from that of Bonaventura not only, but in many respects also lags behind it. To be sure, in Pars I qu. 1, an extensive development is given of the essence of theology, but over against that the doctrine of Scripture remains entirely undiscussed. Further, Thomas at the beginning of the second part at once leaps to the final end of human life, and is thereby compelled often to anticipate what can only be treated later. The Christian virtues, the gospel, the law, the grace, which Thomas includes in this second part, presuppose the person and the work of Christ. The division of Thomas is already connected with the Roman doctrine of the ordo supernaturalis, to which man must be elevated. After the first part has treated of God, the second part speaks of man, who as the image of God is destined for the gratia supernaturalis but cannot attain it, and the third then points out in the person of Christ and the sacraments the way by which man can reach this his destination. God, man, Christ are thus the subjects of the three parts, Werner, Der h. Thomas v. Aq., Regensburg 1858 I, 801 f.; Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit, 2e Aufl. V, 60-70; Kling, Descriptio Summae theol. Th. Aq., Bonn 1846. Finally, the quaestionary form of treatment is also not without objection, Pierson, Studiën over Joh. Calvijn, I 228 v. Thomas sets forth each truth of faith in the form of a question, and brings forward all that opponents have raised against it. With an appeal to one or another authority, Scripture, church fathers, [36] Aristotle, however, he proves the truth of what is asked and draws up the conclusio. This is then elucidated and finally defended against the objections that have been raised.

3. These divisions were mostly adopted by the later Roman theologians, not only in the commentaries which, e.g., were produced by many medieval theologians and also later still by Estius e. a. on the Sententiae of Lombardus, or by Suarez, Valentia, Vasquez, Billuart, Daelman etc. on the Summa of Thomas; but also in independent dogmatic works. Thus the division of Thomas was adopted by Mart. Becanus in his theologia scholastica, Mogunt. 1619, the local method of Theodoretus, Damascenus, Lombardus by Petavius, Opus de theol. Dogm. Paris 1644. Proleg cap. I § 4. But scholasticism had yet another influence on the division of the material. Bonaventura had already included the doctrine of Scripture in the prooemium; Thomas treated beforehand the essence of theology: the development of scholasticism led to the distinction of articuli mixti and puri, to the doctrine of the praeambula fidei and motiva credibilitatis. Thus the material for the prolegomena became more and more extensive. And when the Reformation soon appeared with the exclusive authority of Scripture, it became necessary for the Roman theologians also to give an account of the principia of theology. Melchior Canus especially, in his loci theologici 1563, developed the doctrine of the loci, i.e. of the sources of Theology. This work is not a dogmatics, but a topica, in Cicero’s sense (see above, p. 2). He treats in 12 books ten sources of theology, namely Scripture, tradition, Pope, concilium, church, church fathers, scholastici, reason, philosophy and history, of which the first seven are reducible to two, Scripture and tradition, and the last three are only ministerialiter theological. In this way, gradually, before dogmatics proper a broad introduction has become necessary, which, also through the principled contestation of theology on the part of philosophy etc., has grown into an entire fundamental dogmatics. Most Roman dogmatics accordingly treat in a first part the essence or concept of theology, the praeambula fidei (theol. naturalis), the motiva credibilitatis (religion, revelation, prophecy, miracles, wondrous spread of the [37] christ., martyrs etc.), faith, the sources (Scripture and church), theology and philosophy (faith and reason), concept of dogmatics. Thus in Klee, Heinrich, Jansen, Scheeben, Liebermann, Perrone e. a. Perrone’s work, e.g., treats vol. I de vera religione, and in the two last parts VIII and IX on the loci theologici; these two indeed appeared later after dogmatics proper, but belong, according to the author’s own declaration, vol. VIII, praef., in substance to follow the first part. In these loci Perrone deliberately, in distinction from Canus, places the church before Scripture. And thus is the arrangement with most Roman dogmaticians of more recent times. The church presses more and more into the foreground; it is the principium fidei. The course of dogmatics is then usually that of the local method. One begins with God, considered in himself as one and triune; and then proceeds to God, considered in His relation to the creatures, and indeed first as Deus Creator, then as Deus Redemptor, thereafter as Deus Sanctificator and finally as Deus Consummator.

4. Dogmatics among the Reformers was, from the outset, anti-scholastic and was at first presented in a very simple and practical form. Melanchthon’s Loci, published in 1521, arose from lectures on Paul’s Epistle to the Romans. They are thoroughly practical, treat only anthropological and soteriological capita, especially those of sin and grace, law and gospel, and leave the objective dogmata of God, Trinity, creation, incarnation, satisfaction entirely undiscussed. But the edition of 1535 was greatly expanded by Melanchthon and introduced the secunda aetas of the Loci; it was dedicated in a preface to Henry VIII, began with 5 new capita on God, unity, Trinity, creation, and the cause of sin, was further enriched in the middle with some chapters, and expanded the last three ethical capita into ten chapters of ethical, ecclesiological, and eschatological content, together 39 capita or articles. In 1543 the Loci entered their tertia aetas: a preface was added pio lectori; the number of loci declines, owing to simplification, from 39 to 24; but the content has nevertheless increased significantly. The last edition prepared by Melanchthon himself is that of 1559. The successive editions [38] show an ever greater approach to the synthetic division, which begins with God and descends to his works in nature and grace; but in this connection it is noteworthy that the prolegomena are entirely lacking, that Christology comes off too short because Christ’s person and work are not treated separately, that the dogmatic and ethical remains most closely connected and the whole is concluded not with the eschatological dogmata but with some ethical capita, Phil. Melanchtonis Loci Theol. ed. Augusti 1821 p. 167 f. Die Loci C. des Ph. M. in ihrer Urgestalt nach G. L. Plitt. 2e Aufl. von Dr. Th. Kolde, Erlangen. Deichert 1890. Herzog2 9, 503 f. Zöckler Handb. der Theol. Wiss. II 622 f. and the edition of the Loci in the Corpus Reformatorum.

Zwingli’s Commentarius de vera et falsa religione, Opera ed. Schuler et Schulthess III 153 and his Fidei Christianae Expositio ib. IV 45, also treat some dogmatic loci, but were soon put in the shadow by Calvin’s Christianae Religionis Institutio. The first edition appeared in Latin at Basel in March 1536 and contained a praefatio of Aug. 1535 to Francis I, and thereafter six chapters on the law, faith, prayer, the sacraments, the Roman sacraments, and freedom. It was expanded three times in 1539, 1543 and 1559. The last edition was about five times larger than the first, and indeed contained increase and expansion, but no change. Melanchthon had in the later editions become synergistic and crypto-Calvinistic; Calvin remained the same. Melanchthon’s Loci became more synthetic in form, but retained the character of a series of loci; Calvin’s Institutio more and more acquired a systematic form. The edition of 1559 contains four books, on the knowledge of God as Creator, as Redeemer, as Sanctifier, and a last book on the external means of grace. The division is thus not purely Trinitarian but is derived from the apostol. creed; hence a fourth part comes at the end, dealing chiefly with church and sacraments. The first book gives much more than the title promises, also treats the sources of the knowledge of God and the doctrine of the Trinity. Cosmology and anthropology are distributed over the first and second book. The third book contains, besides soteriological, also many ethical chapters, together with the doctrine [39] of election and of the resurrection. The point of departure of the Institutio is theological, but Calvin does not proceed from an abstract concept of God, but from God as he is known by man from nature and Scripture, Köstlin, Calvins Instit. nach Form und Inhalt in ihrer geschichl. Entw. Stud. u. Kr. 1861 S. 7-62, 410-486. Godgel. Bijdr. 1868 bl. 861 v. 1869 bl. 483 v. Gass, Gesch. der prot. Dogm. I 99 v. Pierson, Studien over J. Kalvijn I 127 v. and the edition in the Corpus Reform.

5. Lutheran and Reformed theologians at first almost generally followed this synthetic division of Melanchthon and Calvin. For various reasons it was held to be the best. Not only Reformed theologians such as Hyperius, Methodus Theol. 1574 p. 11-16, Alsted Theol. schol. didact, in de praefatio, Ursinus, Opera, Heidelb. 1612 I 417, H. Alting, Oratio inauguralis de methodo loc. comm. Heidelb. 1613, Leydecker, de Verit. Rel. Christ. 1690 p. 77; but also Lutherans, such as Flacius, Clavis Scripturae Sacrae, vol. II, tract. I p. 54, Declaratio tabulae trium methodorum theologiae, bij Gass, Gesch. der prot. Dogm. I 46, gave preference to the synthetic method, because in it, as Hyperius says, a primis principiis per formas ac differentias ad finem usque fit progressus. This division was therefore preferred, because it followed that same historical course which God had delineated in His revelation; because it offered the least occasion for a priori speculation and best preserved the positive character of theology; and because it was analogous to the method in the other sciences, which also begin with the simplest elements or principia and then proceed to the composite. This division accordingly remained dominant in the Lutheran church up to Calixtus; one finds it in the main in Strigel, Selneccer, Heerbrand, Chemniz, Hutter, Gerhard, etc. In Reformed theology it is followed up to Coccejus, by Sohnius, Musculus, Hyperius, Ursinus, Martyr, Wollebius, Polanus, Amesius, etc. But nevertheless it is importantly modified in some points. Already soon an introduction was prefixed to dogmatics proper, in which the concept of theology, the doctrine of Scripture, and on a single occasion also, e.g. in Amesius and Maestricht, the essence of faith was treated. Dogmatics [40] was thus divided into two parts, de principiis theologiae and de articulis fidei, Polanus, Syntagma Theol. p. 133. In the corpus itself there came better distinction and delimitation, and also more systematic ordering of the loci: election, treated by Calvin in the third book, came forward in the doctrine of the decrees; the doctrine of world, man, Christ, etc. each received its own place; the conclusion of dogmatics was not taken up by some ethical capita, but by the consummatio seculi; the ethical material was either discussed in soteriology or also in a second part, de operibus, in distinction from the first de fide, or with Danaeus and Calixtus separated entirely from dogmatics. The treatment of the individual loci in the 17th century became ever more scholastic; the connection with the life of faith was felt ever less and less.

6. The reaction against this scholasticism could in the long run not fail to appear. It began in the Luth. church with Calixtus, in the Geref. with Coccejus. Calixtus conceived theology as a practical science and in his Epitome theologiae 1619 followed the analytical division. This was not new insofar as Thomas too, after the doctrine of God, in the second part proceeds to the destiny of man and in the third part describes the way that in Christ leads thither. But Calixtus begins at once with the end, the destiny of man. Part I treats de fine, d. i. de immortalitate animae, resurrectione et extremo judicio. Part II speaks de subjecto, d. i. about God, angel, man, sin. Part III treats de mediis, d. i. about praedestinatie, incarnatie, Christus, justification, word, sacrament, etc. These three parts form the pars communis, which concerns all believers; but after that there still follows a pars propria, which especially treats of the church and is in particular of importance for the office-bearers. Even if there was much good in it, to emphasize, over against the scholastic treatment of theology, its practical character, nevertheless this division is burdened by many objections. Apart from the fact that the doctrine of the church treated in the pars propria is a truth of importance for all believers; it makes a strange impression that dogmatics begins with the end, immortality, etc.; [41] the second part must treat of the subject of theology, man, but also contains the whole doctrine about God; the third part corresponds best to its title, but does the soteriology come up short alongside the soteriology, Gass, Gesch. der prot. Dogm. I, 304 f. Yet this analytical method was followed by the later Lutheran theologians, Calovius, Quenstedt, König, Baier, Scherzer. And also among the Reformed it found acceptance. Barth. Keckermann at Dantzig had already before Calixtus in 1603 brought to light a systema S. Theologiae, in which he, with appeal to Ursinus in his Catechesis, defines theology not as a scientia contemplatrix but as a disciplina operatrix, or better still as a prudentia religiosa ad salutem perveniendi, cap. 1. Therefore he chooses with decisiveness the analytical method, for the synthetic method is proper to the sciences, but the analytical suits the disciplinae operatrices. And thus he then divides his theology into three parts. In the first part he treats of the principia of theology, namely God, the principium essendi, and his Word, the principium cognoscendi. From these two alone the end and the means leading thereto become known to us. In the second part he then says with a single word that the end of Theology is vita, salus aeterna, just as Ursinus in his catechism question 1 places this at the head. The means to reach this end are twofold: knowledge of our misery, and deliverance from that misery, lib. II, cap. 1. Book II thus treats of man and his sin, and Book III of the media salutis, election, Christ, church, justification, sacraments. Remarkable further is that Keckermann with preference compares theology with medical science and even borrows from it the names for the different parts of his theology. Bonaventura Brevil. Pars I, cap. 1, had already done this before him. Following him and others, Keckermann speaks of a pars pathologica, therapeutica, diaetetica of theology, p. 214, 295, cf. Kuyper, Encycl. I, 40.

Likewise, by Coccejus the theological standpoint was exchanged for the anthropological. The new element in his Systema doctrinae de foedere et testamento Dei 1648 did not consist in the concept of the covenant as such, which already occurs in Zwingli and Calvin and had been developed by Bullinger, Olevianus, Cloppenburg. [42] But it lay herein, that Coccejus for the first time arranged the whole dogmatic material from out of this concept, and thereby intended to give a more biblical-theological, anti-scholastic dogmatics; further, that in the arrangement of the material he followed the historical order of the dispensations of the covenant, distinguished these dispensations so sharply, that their unity was lost and could be preserved only by arbitrary typical exegesis; and finally, that he considers the whole history of the covenant of grace from the beginning to the end as an abolition of the covenant of works; sin, Christ, New Covenant, bodily death and resurrection are the five turning points, through which successively the covenant of works is deprived of all its power and operation, cap. III § 68. This division is burdened by many objections; it does not take its standpoint theologically in God, but in the covenant of God and man and thus cannot treat the doctrine concerning God and man otherwise than beforehand in an introduction, by way of presupposition; by its historical course it effaces the boundary between the history of revelation and dogmatics and thereby undermines the latter; it falls into manifold repetitions and of itself comes to it, on the one hand, to exaggerate the analogies and on the other hand the distinctions in the different dispensations of the covenant. Yet it found imitation with many, e.g. with Momma, Heydanus, Vitringa, Braun, Witsius, and also with Lutherans, such as W. Jäger, 1702. And even Leydecker, a follower of Voetius and opponent of Coccejus, attempted to connect the trinitarian division with the federalistic in such a way, that the successive economies of grace were brought into connection with the three persons and the threefold activity in the Trinity, Schweizer, Gl. der ev. ref. k. I 115 f.

7. But an even greater change came in the form of dogmatics through the influence of philosophy. This is expressed especially in the fact that dogmatics proper in its material content becomes poorer and poorer, and the pars formalis continually gains in size and breadth. Up to this point it had been quite otherwise; the prolegomena were entirely lacking, or were small in scope and dealt at most with theology and Scripture; all strength was devoted to the elaboration and defense of the particular dogmas. The foundation lay so firm that it was not investigated at all; all [43] labor was spent on the building that was erected upon that foundation. This changed through philosophy, through the rights that reason gradually arrogated to itself over against revelation. It was no longer satisfied with the modest role of handmaiden, and demanded a voice in the chapter. In the pars materialis this had as a consequence that all scholastic elaboration of the dogmas was avoided as much as possible; one goes back from the confession to Scripture and embraces the historical, biblical method; the dogmas are simplified and worn down and lose what is distinctive; all deeper reflection on the dogmas is banished; simplicity becomes superficiality. But the influence on the formal part of dogmatics was even greater. Here one abandoned the Reformation starting point of faith and returned to that of Roman theology. First, one thought that human reason, even outside faith, could produce from itself all the truths of the theol. naturalis; the theol. naturalis preceded the theol. revelata as praeambula fidei, reason was emancipated from faith, from revelation, both stood independently alongside each other. S. van Til treated them both separately in his Theologiae utriusque compendium, cum naturalis tum revelatae 1706. Subsequently that reason not only received its own domain alongside revelation, but also extended its power over that revelation itself. To it was granted the right to investigate the truth of revelation. In the theologia naturalis one stood on a firm foundation, on a purely scientific basis; from this standpoint revelation too was investigated, and if then reason by all manner of rational and historical proofs, as so many motiva credibilitatis, had demonstrated the truth of revelation, then it was surely reasonable to believe that revelation and to submit to it. Thus the prolegomena became ever more extensive. First one deals with religion as distinguished from theology; then with the theol. naturalis and the natural or rational truths; next with revelation, whose possibility, necessity, and actuality are demonstrated at length; and finally with Holy Scripture, whose truth is supported by all manner of historical, critical, rational proofs. And only after that long road does one arrive at dogmatics proper, which looks as sober and as simple as possible. The whole [44] standpoint has changed; the starting point is no longer faith but reason. What wonder that this in deism and rationalism denies all revelation, a revelation that after all gives nothing new and is wholly superfluous. This order of treatment is essentially proper to scholastic and Roman theology. The Socinians have never risen above this rationalistic standpoint, Fock, Der Socin. 291 f. And the Remonstrants have returned again to this method. Limborch, Theol. Christ. speaks in cap. 1 de theologia ac religione, in cap. 2 de existentia Dei and then in cap. 3 v. about the H. Scripture. Episcopius in his Instit. Theol. expands this introductory material still further, speaks first even about the requirements of the theologian, and then about the practical character of theology, the theol. naturalis, religion, revelation, and the H. Scripture. Gradually this expansion of the prolegomena also penetrated into orthodox dogmatics. The division of dogmatics into two parts: de fide and de operibus leads Amesius and Maestricht, at the beginning after theology and Scripture, also to discuss the nature of faith; Marck and Moor speak in the third chapter about religion; Brakel begins with a chapter about the theol. naturalis. There is thus much difference and confusion about what belongs in the introduction. But gradually in the 18th century a series of subjects for the introduction begins to become fixed, such as theology, natural knowledge of God, revelation, Scripture; e.g. in J. A. Turretinus, Werenfels, Osterwald, Buurt and all theologians of rationalistic and supranaturalistic direction.

8. Now it was indeed by Kant that the rationalistic foundation of dogmatics was undermined, and Schleiermacher did indeed try to save faith and doctrine of faith, by restricting them to feeling and the description thereof. But in fact no change has come about in this order of dogmatics. The attacks on the Christian religion in this century are directed in the first place against the foundations themselves. In earlier centuries faith was more powerful and the question: why do I believe, hardly arose. The foundations seemed so firm that an investigation of them was entirely unnecessary; all strength was devoted to erecting the building. But now dogmatics is contested precisely in its philosophical presuppositions; not this or that doctrine [45] in dogmatics, but the possibility of dogmatics is denied, Pierson, Ter uitvaart 1870. Human cognitive capacity is limited to visible things; revelation is deemed impossible; Holy Scripture is deprived of its divine authority by historical criticism and even the right and the value of religion is seriously disputed. By and in part through all this the religious life has been strongly diminished; there is indeed much movement in the religious sphere, but there is little truly religious life. Faith no longer feels sure; even among believers there is much doubt and instability. The childlike and at the same time heroic: I believe, is seldom heard and has made room for critical doubting. Perhaps one still believes his confession, but one no longer confesses his faith (Schweizer). In times of awakened religious life one speaks as one having authority, and not as the scribe; then the words: I know in whom I believe, sound from the lips. But in a critical time like ours there is uncertainty precisely about the principia, about source of knowledge, method, proof, etc. The pars formalis is therefore still the most important part of dogmatics. A whole apologetics precedes dogmatics, Hoekstra, Godgel. Bijdr. 1864 bl. 2 v. Schleiermacher did indeed make dogmatics into a positive, historical science and tried to free it from all apologetics. But he had philosophy precede historical theology, to which dogmatics belongs, which had to take its point of departure über dem Christenthum, in religious communal life in general, and from there critically had to determine the essence of Christianity, Kurze Darstellung des theol. Stud. 2e Ausg. § 32 f. In fact he thus did not free theology from philosophy, but made it as dependent on it as possible. This also appears in that in his Glaubenslehre he has a broad introduction precede it with all kinds of Lehnsätze from ethics, the philosophy of religion and apologetics. Now the example of Schleiermacher, to have philosophical theology precede historical theology in an encyclopaedic way, has indeed found imitation only among a few; but in connection with him it has nevertheless become customary to begin dogmatics with an apologetic part. Thus Voigt wrote a Fundamentaldogmatik, Lange a [46] philosophical dogmatics, which preceded the positive, Van Oosterzee laid an apologetic foundation, Dorner has a more fundamental part or Apologetik precede, Biedermann a prinzipieller Theil, Lipsius and Nitzsch a Principienlehre, etc. The advice of Liebner, Jahrb. f. d. Th. 1856 I 196 f. to develop in the introduction only the concept of dogmatics, since otherwise a whole dogmatics comes before dogmatics, and the concepts of religion, revelation already presuppose the doctrine of God and man, has been little followed. The subjects that are treated in this Principienlehre are not the same with all, but nevertheless mostly run over the concepts: nature of our knowledge in religious matters, religion, revelation, Holy Scripture and church. The chapter theology, formerly often included, has been moved to the Encyclopaedie. The division of material dogmatics is very different. Some follow the trinitarian division, such as Martensen, Lange, Kahnis, Ebrard, Schweizer. Others proceed from Christ and treat the presuppositions, the person and the work of Christ, such as Liebner, Thomasius, Lange. The contrast of sin and grace, with the presupposition preceding it of the relation of God and world, lies at the basis of the division of Schleiermacher and Rothe, zur Dogm. 29. Hofmann, Philippi, Lutbardt, have taken the foedus concept, i.e. the communion of God, as point of departure and treat the origin, the disturbance, the objective restoration, the subjective realization and the completion of that communion. The kingdom of God is chosen as principium dividendi by Van Oosterzee; the concept of love by Schoeberlein; that of life by Oetinger, Reiff, etc., while finally many follow the usual order of theology, anthropology etc., such as Vilmar, Hodge, Shedd, Böhl et al.

9. As regards, first of all, the division of dogmatics into a general and a special part, this has not only become necessary through the principled opposition to dogmatics, but is also in itself useful and good. Already early on a need was felt, in order, before the dogmas proper, to set forth the essence of theology and its principles in the light. Polanus already made a distinction between the principia and the articuli fidei. And gradually it has become an urgent need for the believer, not only [47] to know what, but also why he believes. But to that end the task of the first, general part of dogmatics is also determined. This first part must not concern itself with all kinds of encyclopaedic questions, such as the essence, the history, the division of theology, as Gretillat, Exposé de théol. system. I 1885, p. 199 s., still does. Formerly that happened, because theology was identified with dogmatics, and because theological encyclopaedia was not yet practised as a separate discipline. Now, however, the development of the essence of theology must be left to encyclopaedia; in dogmatics there belongs only the exposition of the name, concept, method, division and history of dogmatics itself, as happens in the introduction. But also in another way must the principled part of dogmatics be limited. The method, which already arose with Scholasticism and then later also found acceptance among the Protestants, namely, first to treat the natural knowledge of God (praeambula fidei) and thereafter all the historical and rational proofs (motiva credibilitatis) for revelation, deserves disapproval, because it at the beginning and in principle gives up the standpoint of faith, fails to recognize the positive character of dogmatics, passes over onto the terrain of the opponent, and thus in fact is rationalistic and makes dogmatics dependent on philosophy. To that also belongs the attempt to identify the theologia or religio naturalis with the foedus operum and then to treat it as a preparation for the theologia revelata, which in substance is one with the foedus gratiae, Schweizer, Gl. der. ev. ref. K. I, 107-115, II 1 f. and Scholten L. H. K. I 304 v. Cf. Dr. van Dijk, Studiën, VI 1880, 1e stuk blz. 11 v. Both make natural religion (foedus operum, status integritatis), the religion of law (foedus gratiae ante legem en sub lege) and the Erlösungsreligion (foedus gratiae post legem) into three moments in the religious process. Thereby revelation is not only deprived of its supernatural character, but also use is made of the Reformed division against its intention. The foedus operum, before the fall, is no preparation of but forms an antithesis with the foedus gratiae, which first appears in history after the breach of the foedus operum by sin. The distinction of theol. naturalis and relevata, on the other hand, is a wholly different one, not a historical but one which [48] still always exists and continues in theology. Over against such a rationalizing of religion and theology, with Schleiermacher, Rothe, Frank, Ritschl, etc., the positive character must be maintained. The principia fidei are also articuli fidei, which rest not on human reasonings and proofs but on divine authority. The recognition of revelation, of Scripture as God’s Word, is a fruit and act of faith. In dogmatics from beginning to end the believer has the floor, both in the principia and in the articuli fidei; he confesses and gives account of his faith, of its ground and of its content. In the first part, therefore, only the principia fidei are developed. These are twofold, principium externum and internum, objectivum and formale, Voetius, Disp. I 2. Alting, Theol. Schol. didact. p. 10, just as the religio objectiva and subjectiva must be distinguished. And in these two the whole first part of dogmatics is dealt with.

In the arrangement of the material in the second part, the trinitarian division is to be rejected, because it naturally cannot include the treatment of the Trinity itself in one of the three oeconomies and therefore, by way of supposition, must let it precede in a chapter. Furthermore, with this division there is the danger that the opera ad extra are far too much conceived as opera personalia and are too little regarded as opera essentialia, as common works of the three persons, or, on the other hand, that, with the maintenance of unity, the Trinity is taken only oeconomically and is misunderstood in its ontological character. Finally, to this division there is still connected the shadow-side, that the loci concerning creation, angel, man, sin, church, etc., distributed under the persons of the Trinity, cannot come into their own. But far more objections exist against the christological division. However much that is attractive it may have at the first glance, it is nevertheless unusable. It rests, in the first place, often on the incorrect representation, as if not Scripture but specifically the person of Christ were the principium and the source of knowledge of dogmatics, and yet we know nothing of Christ except from and through Scripture. Furthermore, Christ is very certainly the center and the main content of Holy Scripture, but precisely because he is the center, he is not the point of departure; he presupposes God and man, just as he also did not appear immediately, [49] but only many centuries after the promise in history. Next, it is beyond doubt that Christ has revealed the Father to us, but this speaking of God through the Son does not nullify the speaking of God in many ways through the prophets; not the New Testament alone, nor also the words of Jesus alone, but the whole of Scripture is a Word of God, which comes to us through Christ. Finally, it is clear that the christological division can treat the loci concerning God, creation, world, man only by way of suppositions and postulates and thus cannot develop them in their rich significance. The other divisions, derived from the three virtues faith, hope, love, faith, prayer and commandment, from the destination and the final end of man, from the covenant or the communion of God and man, from the kingdom of God, from the concepts of life, love, spirit, etc., may have much in their favor practically and may be in their place in a catechism; they cannot be considered for a dogmatics, which is the system of the knowledge of God. They are for that purpose not central and general enough. They are therefore either brought in from outside and do not govern the system, as with Van Oosterzee; or they are strictly maintained as a principle of division but do short to various loci.

10. The content of dogmatics is the knowledge of God, as He has revealed Himself in Christ, through His Word. The distinctive character of the believer’s knowledge consists in this, that he views everything religiously, theologically, that he considers everything in the light of God, sub specie aeternitatis. That is the difference between his and a philosophical or scientific worldview. In dogmatics it is always the believer, the Christian, who speaks. He does not speculate about God, he does not proceed from an abstract, philosophical concept of God, and does not come by way of theologia naturalis to theologia revelata. He does not reason about God, as He exists in Himself, for this knowledge is completely unattainable. He describes only that knowledge of God which has been revealed to him in Christ. Thus, even when in the first part of dogmatics he treats of God, His attributes, the Trinity, he speaks and thinks as a believer, as a Christian, as a theologian and not as a philosopher. In every dogma, therefore, the heart of religion beats. Dogmatics is no philosophical system, dogmatics [50] is theology. But for that very reason the dogmatician in his system of the knowledge of God does not describe how he came to faith and through faith subjectively and successively obtained insight into the various truths of faith. That would be an analytical method, which is excellent in a catechism but does not fit in a dogmatics. But he explicates the content of his faith, as it is objectively, in revelation, spread out by God Himself before his eye of faith. He derives the principle of division and the arrangement of the material not from his own life of faith, but from the object itself, which he has to describe in his dogmatics; not from the believing subject, but from the object of faith. Even if, therefore, we wholeheartedly agree with it, that in dogmatics always and everywhere, from the beginning to the end, the believer thinks and speaks; yet this is something entirely different from his also deriving the ordering of the dogmatic material from his own experience. Thereby dogmatics would be misunderstood in its character, pass over into anthropology, and cease to be theological. It remains this only if the system of dogmatics is derived from its own material and content.

If this point of departure has been well chosen, there are only two divisions that recommend themselves for it. The first is the already discussed trinitarian division. There is much that is attractive in it; hence it repeatedly found acceptance and also exercised great influence in philosophy. It recommends itself by its purely theological character. God is beginning and end, alpha and omega. Nature and history are subsumed under Him. All things are from God and unto God. The trinitarian guards against uniformity and guarantees life, development, process. But thereby at the same time its danger is indicated. It is too speculative, it sacrifices history to the system, it so readily takes up cosmogony into the trinitarian life of God and then becomes theogony. The philosophy of Erigena, Böhme, Baader, Schelling, Hegel serves as proof. Therefore that division deserves preference which is theological and at the same time bears a historical-genetic character. It too takes its point of departure in God and considers all creatures only in relation to Him. But, proceeding from God, it descends to His works, in order then through these to climb up again to Him and to end in Him. Also in this division, therefore, God is the beginning, the [51] middle and the end. From Him, through Him, and unto Him are all things. But God is not here dragged down into the process of history, and history here comes better into its own. Between God and His works a distinction is made. In those works He appears as Creator, Restorer, and Perfecter. He is exemplar effectivum in creatione, refectivum in redemptione, perfectivum in retributione. Dogmatics is the system of the knowledge of God as He has revealed Himself in Christ; it is the system of the Christian religion. And the essence of the Christian religion consists in this, that the creation of the Father, destroyed by sin, is restored again in the death of the Son of God and by the grace of the H. Spirit is re-created into a kingdom of God. Dogmatics shows us how God, the All-sufficient in Himself, nevertheless glorifies Himself in His creation, which, even when it is shattered by sin, is nevertheless gathered together again in Christ Eph. 1:10. It describes to us God, always God, from the beginning to the end, God in His being, God in His creation, God over against sin, God in Christ, God through the H. Spirit breaking all resistance, and leading the whole creation to the goal determined by Him, the glory of His name. Dogmatics is therefore no dry science. It is a theodicy, a hymn of praise on all God’s virtues and perfections, a song of adoration and of thanksgiving, a δοξα ἐν ὑψιστοις θεῳ.

§ 5. History and Literature of Dogmatics.

A. Rise of dogmatics, 2nd-4th century.

1. Holy Scripture is not a dogmatics. It contains all the knowledge of God that we need, but has not formulated this dogmatically. The truth is laid down there as the fruit of revelation and inspiration, in a language which is the immediate expression of life and therefore always remains fresh and original. But it has not yet become an object of reflection and has not yet passed through thinking consciousness. Here and there, e.g. [52] in the Epistle to the Romans, there may be a beginning of dogmatic development; more than a beginning it is not. The period of revelation had to be closed before that of dogmatic reproduction could make a beginning. Scripture is the gold mine, but it is the church that digs the gold out of it, stamps it, and converts it into current coin, Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. II 20 f. This dogmatic processing of the content of Holy Scripture, however, is not the work of one single theologian, or of a particular church or school, but of the whole church through all the centuries, of the whole new humanity reborn through Christ. Just as there is unity and continuity in the development of every science, so that is also the case in theology and in dogmatics. These too have a history. Not only in the sense that the material and content were gradually, in the course of centuries, revealed by God; nor merely thus, that the various truths have been gradually more clearly formulated by the church and applied in life; but also yet in this meaning, that scientific consciousness obtained, the longer the more, a clear insight into the organism and the system of that revealed truth. The scientific character too of dogmatics and theology has run through a history.

The Apostolic Fathers, e.g. edited by Hefele-Funk, Tübingen 1878-1881. Gebhardt, Harnack, Zahn, Patrum apost. opera. Lips. 1875-’77, ed minor repetita. Lips. 1894. Hilgenfeld, Nov. Test. extra canonem receptum, ed sec. Lips. 1884, translated by Duker and Van Manen, Oud-Christ. letterkunde. Amst. 1871, still stand entirely on the standpoint of a naïve, childlike faith. Christianity was not a fruit of human investigation, but of revelation and therefore demanded in the first place faith. One still echoes the H. Scripture. The biblical concepts, such as of Christ as Lord, his death, faith, conversion, congregation, watching, prayer, alms, resurrection, life, immortality, etc. are indeed adopted, but without reflection awakening and their content being thought into and analyzed. Christianity, moreover, also for the most part found entrance among the simple and the uneducated. All striving is directed all the more to converting the Christian truth into life and to bringing it practically also in cultus and organization to dominion; not on 53 gnosis but on a holy life, on the practice of the Christian virtues of love, gentleness, peace, unity etc. is the emphasis laid. The circle of ideas within which one moves is therefore also still narrow; many biblical concepts are entirely lacking, and others are weakened or altered; the work-holy conception of Christianity is prepared. In general the writings of the Apost. Fathers are ethically stronger and richer than dogmatically. In spite of the same epistolary form and in part the same congregations to whom they address themselves, the difference and the distance between the Apostles and the Apostolic Fathers strikes the eye very strongly. The pagan consciousness could not so quickly take the Christian thoughts into itself, Lübkert, Die Theol. der apost. Väter, in Niedner’s Zeits. f. hist. Th. 1854 S. 589 f. Sprinzl, Die Theol. der apost. Väter, Wien 1880. Lechler, Das apost. u. nachapost. Zeitalter, 3e Ausg. 586-610. Zöckler, Handbuch der theol. Wiss. Supplementband 1889 S. 18 f. Dorner, Entw. Gesch. der Lehre v. d. Person Christi, 2e Aufl. I 130 f. Harnack, Dogmengesch. I 125-186.

2. With this simple repetition and practical application of the truth of Scripture, however, theology could not remain standing. The opposition which Christianity gradually experienced from pagan culture compelled reflection and defense. In the first period the pagan power confined itself to persecution, Uhlhorn, der Kampf des Christ. mit dem Heid. 3e Aufl. Stuttgart 1879, hatred, contempt, and mockery, as they are expressed by Tacitus, Ann. 15:44 and Lucian in his Peregrinus Proteus, Th. Keim, Rom und das Christenthum, herausg. v. H. Ziegler 1881. Stud. u. Kr. 1851, S. 826 f. Herzog2 8, 772. But gradually the pagan world had to reckon with Christianity and attacked it scientifically. Heinrich Kellner has in his Hellenismus und Christenthum, Kölln 1866 intentionally described this geistige Reaktion des antiken Heidenthums gegen das Christenthum, and finally, S. 431 f. also pointed to its affinity with the combating of Christianity in the present time. The principal scientific opponents are: Celsus, (W. Th. Keim, Celsus’ wahres Wort. Zürich 1873. Origen, contra Celsum. Bindemann, Zeits. f. d. histor. Theol. 1842, 2tes Heft S. 58 f. Baur, Kirch. Gesch. [54] der 3 ersten Jahrh. 383 f. Herzog2 11, 100 f. Vigouroux, Les livres saints et la critique rationaliste, 3e ed. I 133 s.) Porphyrius, (Baur, ib. 420 f. Jahrb. f. d. Theol. 1878. 2tes Heft S. 269 f. Herzog2 10, 524. Vigouroux, ib. I 156 s.), Fronto, the friend of Aurelius (according to Minucius Felix, Octavius 9, 31. Boissier, Les polémiques religieuses au second siècle, Revue des Deux Mondes 1 Jan. 1879, Herzog2 8, 772), and later still Julian, who, according to the refutation of Cyril, contra Julianum, wrote a book against the Christians, (C. J. Neumann, Juliani imperatoris librorum contra Christianos quae supersunt Lips. Teubner 1880, also translated into German. ib.). All the arguments which later through all centuries have been brought against Christianity are already to be found with them, thus e.g. against the authenticity and truth of many Bible books, the Pentateuch, Daniel, the Gospels, against revelation and the miracles; against various dogmas such as the incarnation, the satisfaction, forgiveness, the resurrection, the eternity of punishment; against morality, such as asceticism, contempt for the world, unculturedness; not to speak of the slanderous accusations of worshiping a donkey’s head, child murder, adultery, etc. Yet this scientific combating too has not overcome Christianity. And the pagans saw themselves compelled either to bring the old religion to new life, as Neopythagoreanism and Neoplatonism attempted, Zeller, Philos. der Griechen 3e Aufl. V 79 f. 419 f., or to mix and connect Christianity with paganism, as happened in Gnosticism and Manichaeism. Especially Gnosticism was a powerful attempt to take up Christianity into the combination and fusion of all kinds of pagan elements, neoplaton. philosophy, Syrian and Phoenician mythology, Chaldean astrology, Persian dualism, etc., and thus to divest it of its absolute character. The main question in that connection was this, how the human spirit had come into the bonds of matter and could now be freed from it. Usually God in Gnosticism is the abstract, undifferentiated unity. From him matter, the cause of evil, is not to be explained. This is derived from a lower god, the demiurge, who stands between the highest God and the sensible world and is identified with the God of the O. Test. For the redemption of the spirits bound in matter there proceed from God various aeons, which represent the various religions and reach their climax in the aeon Christ. Christianity is thus not the only but the highest religion. Christ, however, is conceived docetically, for it is not the fact, history, but the idea that matters. Therefore the highest blessedness also consists in knowing; knowledge with asceticism makes blessed. The pistis, theology, may be good for the undeveloped; the gnosis, philosophy is the highest, it is the property of the πνευματικοι. These ideas were brought into agreement with Scripture by allegorical exegesis, and presented in forms and images borrowed from mythology and adorned by fantasy. They changed Christianity into a kind of Religionsphilosophie, of speculative philosophy, which through all centuries, down to the systems of Hegel and Schelling, has exercised its influence, cf. Jacobi in Herzog2 5, 204 f. Harnack Dogm. I 186 f. Vigouroux t. a. p. I 106 s. and the literature cited there.

Over against these various attacks, defence was necessary. The Christians were compelled to reflect on the content of revelation, and to set a true, Christian gnosis over against the false. The revealed truth becomes the object of methodical, scientific thinking. Theology arose, not from and for the church and for the training of its ministers, but on the occasion of and for the repulse of the attacks that were directed against Christianity. Naturally, for such an activity of thought, knowledge of pagan philosophy was necessary; theology in fact arose with the help of and through connection with philosophy. The Gnostics had already attempted this too, but there was an essential difference in the manner in which the Gnostics and in which the Apologists sought that connection. That difference does not consist in this, that the former undertook an acute, and the latter an allmählige Hellenisirung of Christianity, Harnack, Dogmengesch. I 168 f. 413 f. But with the Gnostics the positive, absolute content of the Christian religion was lost, with the Apologists it was preserved; with the former the use of philosophy was material, with the latter in the main formal; the former were therefore disowned by the church, the latter acknowledged; the former presented the various philosophies as a religious process, in which also Christianity was included, the latter attempted to demonstrate the Christian religion, which they acknowledged and accepted, as the highest truth, as the true philosophy, which unites in itself all elements of truth from elsewhere. This latter is even the fundamental thought of the Apologists, and they work this out as follows: God is one, ineffable, spiritual, etc., but through the Logos He is also creator of the world, ultimate cause of all that is, and principle of all the morally good. Gnostic dualism is here overcome; the world everywhere bears the stamp of the divine Logos, matter too is good and created by God. Man was originally created good, received reason and freedom and was destined for the ἀθανασια; this he had to and could attain in the way of free obedience. But he has allowed himself to be seduced by the daemons and has now come under the dominion of sensuality, fallen prey to error and death. Here too dualism is avoided and the cause of sin is sought in the will of man. But therefore new means are now necessary, to bring man back from the way of falsehood and death and to lead him onward to immortality. God revealed himself through the Logos from the earliest times, and imparted knowledge of the truth also indeed to some Heathens, but especially to the prophets in Israel, and finally in his Son Jesus Christ. In Him all earlier truth is confirmed and completed. Through Him as teacher of the truth man is again brought to his destination. The Apologists are thus intellectualistic and moralistic; yet, e.g., in Justin the striving is not lacking, to understand Christ also as Reconciler and Redeemer, through whose blood we receive forgiveness of sin. Edition of the Apologists Justin, Tatian, Athenagoras, Theophilus and Hermias, in Migne ser. gr. t. 6. Of them Justin is by far the most important, Semisch, Justin the Martyr, Breslau 1840. Böhringer, Kirch. Gesch. in Biogr. I 1 S. 96-270. Aubé St. Justin philosophe et martyr. Paris 1861. Weiszäcker, Die Theol. des J. M. (Jahrb. f. d. Th. 1867, S. 60-119). Engelhardt, Das Christ. J. d. M. Erlangen 1878 en Herz.2 7, 318. Stählin, Justin der Martyrer Leipz. 1880. Harnack D. G. I 413-464. Dr. H. Veit, Justinus des Philos. und Martyrers Rechtfertigung des Christ. Strassburg, Heitz. 1894. [57]

3. The beginnings of theology among the Apologists, however, were not only weak but in many respects also not free from one-sidedness and error. The problems that presented themselves were many and formidable; the relation of theology and philosophy, the doctrine of the Logos in its relation to God, the significance of Christ and his death, etc., were far too deep for the right insight to be obtained all at once. Difference of view manifested itself repeatedly. As soon as there was theology, there was also distinction of direction and school. Two kinds of dogmatic direction can soon be distinguished. On the one hand that which is represented by Tertullianus (ed. van Oehler, Leipzig 1853, van Gersdorf, Bibl. patr. eccles. lat. vol. 4-7. Migne, ser. lat. t. 1-2). Cyprianus (ed. Gersdorf. vol. 2-3. Hartel, Vienna 3 vol. 1868-71. Migne ser. lat. t. 4) and Lactantius (ed. Gersdorf. vol. 10-11. Migne t. 6), and also by Irenaeus, of whom only the principal work Ἐλεγχος και ἀνατροπη της ψευδωνυμου γνωσεως, usually cited Adversus haereses libr. V has been preserved (ed. Stieren, Leipzig 1853. Migne ser. gr. t. 7) and his pupil Hippolytus of Rome, probably author of the φιλοσοφουμενα ἠ κατα πασων αἱρεσεων ἐλεγχος first ascribed to Origen (ed. Duncker u. Schneidewin Gött. 1859. Migne, ser. gr. t. 10). All these stand antithetically over against philosophy. Irenaeus warns very earnestly against it, adv. haer. II 25-28 and Tertullianus banishes it entirely and as sharply as possible, de praescr. 7, in the well-known passage: what have Athens and Jerusalem, the academy and the church, the Christians and the heretics in common, etc. Yet they all again make the most naïve use of it; Tertullianus is therefore so important for theology, because he introduced a number of termini for the trinitarian and christological dogma, such as trias, trinitas, satisfacere, meritum, sacramentum, una substantia and tres personae, duae substantiae in una persona etc. But in doing so they stand on the foundation of the faith of the church; they are historical, positive, realistic and make between faith and theology, πιστις and γνωσις, no qualitative but at most a quantitative distinction, Iren. adv. haer. I 10, 3. And indeed there is as yet no question of a dogmatic system with these men; the dogmata stand loosely alongside one another, a definite principle is not to be found, indeed in christology by Tertullianus and [58] Hippolytus gnosticism has not been entirely overcome; but nevertheless the theology of these men, especially of Irenaeus, has been that of the following centuries. All the later dogmata are to be found in him. The unity of God, the unity of essence of Father and Son, of the God of creation and of re-creation, the unity of the God of the O. and of that of the N. T., the creation of the world out of nothing, the unity of the human race, the origin of sin from freedom of the will, the two natures of Christ, the absolute revelation of God in Christ, the resurrection of all men, etc., are by him clearly expressed and maintained over against Gnosticism. Christianity in Irenaeus first unfolded a proper, independent theological science, Harnack, Dogm. Gesch. I 464-547, the articles on the named theologians in Herzog2, the monographs on them, e.g. on Irenaeus, Böhringer, Kirchengesch. in Biogr. 2e Aufl. I Bd. 1e Abth. Ziegler, Irenaeus, Der Bischof von Lyon, Berlin 1871. Reville, Revue des deux Mondes 1865. Alzog, Grundriss der Patrologie, 4e Aufl. Freiburg 1888 S 104 f. etc. Zöckler Supplement S. 40 f. [**]

[**] For the sake of brevity, some works are mentioned here for the Councils, Church Fathers, ecclesiastical writers, etc., and literature about them. The acts of the councils are collected in: Joa. Harduinus, Conciliorum collectio regia maxima. Par. 1714. 11 Tomi in 12 vol., runs up to 1714. J. Domin. Mansi. Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio. Flor. 1759-1788. 31 vol.; a new, improved edition has been appearing since 1885 in Paris. Acta et decreta sacrorum conciliorum recentiorum. Collectio Lacensis (Maria Laach), 7 vol. Frib. Brisg. 1870-1890, contains the acta of the concilia from 1682-1870. The principal decisions of councils and Popes are collected by H. Denzinger. Enchiridion symbolorum et definitionum, ed. 6 aucta ab Ign. Stahl. Wirceb. 1888. The history of the councils has been treated most completely by Karl Joseph von Hefele, Conciliëngeschichte, nach den Quellen bearbeitet, 7 Bde. Freiburg 1885-1671, 2e Aufl. Bd. 1-4 by Hefele himself, Bd. 5-6 by Knöpfler; the work has been continued by Hergenröther, who added Bd. 8-9 to it 1867 and 1890.

The Church Fathers and other ecclesiastical writers have been published, inter alia, by: Andr. Gallandius, Bibliotheca veterum patrum antiquorumque scriptorum ecclesiasticorum, Venet. 1763-1781, 14 tomi fol. J. P. Migne, Patrologiae cursus completus, sive Bibliotheca universatis .... omnium S. S. Patrum, doctorum scriptorumque ecclesiasticorum, sive latinorum, sive graecorum. Paris 1844 sq. 473 tomi; series latina 221 tomi, series graeca 166 tomi, patrologia graeca latine tantum edita 86 tomi. Furthermore, various Church Fathers have been published separately by the Maurist monks (Cf. art. Herz2), such as Origenes by Delarue Paris 1733, Chrysostomus by Montfaucon 1718, Augustinus by Delfau e. a. 1679-1702 etc. And finally there appears an excellent edition of the Lat. Church Fathers at Vienna under the direction of the Imperial Academy of Sciences: Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum Latinorum. Vindob. 1866 sq. in which already various Church Fathers Minucius Felix, Cyprianus, Arnob., Lact., etc. or portions of Church Fathers Tert., August. etc. have appeared. See further Bellarminus, De Scriptoribus ecclesiasticis Romae 1613. Ed. du Pin, Nouvelle Bibliothèque des auteurs ecclésiastiques, 47 vol. Par. 1686-1714. Cave, Historia literaria script. eccles. 2 vol. Lond. 1689, Basil. 1741. Walch, Bibl. theol. sel. Jenae 4 vol. 1757 sq. Ritter, Geschichte der christl. Philosophie, 4 Theile, Hamburg 1841-1845. Ueberweg, Grundriss der Gesch. d. Phil. der patr. u. schol. Zeit. 6e Aufl. 1881. Nirschl. Lehrb. der Patrol. u. Patristik, 3 Bde. Mainz 1881-1885. Alzog, Grundriss der Patrologie, 4e Aufl. Freiburg 1888. G. Krüger, Gesch. der altchristl. Litteratur in den ersten drei Jahrh. Freiburg 1895.

As aids can serve: for ecclesiastical Greek, the dictionary of J. C. Suicerus, Thesaurus ecclesiasticus, ed. 2a longe auctior Amst. 1728, 2 tomi; for medieval Greek C. Dufresne, dominus du Cange, Glossarium ad scriptores mediae et infimae graecitatis. Lugd, 1688, 2 tomi; for medieval Latin C. Dufresne, dominus du Cange, Glossarium ad scriptores mediae et infimae latinitatis. Par. 1678, 3 vol.; new edition by the Benedictines in 6 parts 1733-36; by G. A. L. Henschel, Par. 1840-50 in 7 parts; and by Leopold Favre in 10 parts 1883-87. Also Forcellini, Totius latinitatis lexicon, in 4 parts Padua 1771; new edition by Furlanetto in 4 parts. Padua 1828-’31: English edition in London 1826; German by Voigtlander and Hertel in Zwickau and Schneeberg 1829-33, new edition in Italy by Corradini in Padua 1859 and by D. Vinc. De Vit in 6 parts in Prato 1858-79. For the place-names: J. V. Muller, Lexicon manuale, geographiam antiquam et mediam cum Latine tum Germanice illustrans, Lips. 1831. J. G. Th. Graesse, Orbis latinus over Verzeichniss der lateinischen Benennungen der bekanntesten Städte usw. Dresden 1861. [59]

Quite different was the attitude that was adopted by the Alexandrian theologians toward philosophy and Gnosticism. In various places, especially in Alexandria, toward the end of the 2nd and at the beginning of the 3rd century, the endeavor awoke to work up the Christian material scientifically and thus mit dem Zeitbewusstsein zu vermitteln, Harnack, D. G. I 549. The origin and the rise of the Catechetical School in Alexandria is unknown to us, Guericke, De schola quae Alexandriae floruit catechetica 1824. Vacherot, Hist. crit. de l’école d’Alex. 1846-51. Herzog2 I 290-292, but it already existed about 190 and soon increased in esteem and influence. [60] The first teacher who is known to us through his surviving writings is Clemens Alexandrinus. But he is put in the shade by Origen, the most influential theologian from the first centuries. Their endeavor was to transform the ecclesiastical doctrine of faith into a speculative science. To be sure, they maintained the faith, and, in distinction from the Gnostics, they took their point of departure in the positive doctrine of the church. Clemens even called faith a γνωσις συντομος, esteemed it higher than pagan wisdom; Christianity is a way to salvation for all people and can be appropriated only by faith; the content of that faith is summarized by the church in its confession, and the source of knowledge of the truth is solely and alone revelation, Holy Scripture. All this is held just as strongly by Clemens and Origen as by Irenaeus and Tertullian. But the difference begins here, that the Alexandrians assumed a qualitative difference between faith and science. Faith may be good and necessary for the simple; the developed do not have enough with that. Theology must aim to develop the content of faith into a science that does not rest on authority but finds in itself its guarantee and confirmation. The pistis must be raised to gnosis. The gnosis is here no longer a means to ward off and combat heresy but becomes an end. The pistis leads only to a χριστιανισμος σωματικος, but theology must develop from Holy Scripture the χριστιανισμος πνευματικος. What Philo had attempted for the Jews, Clemens and Origen undertook for the Christians; they continued the work of Justinus Martyr. In order to reach this goal, they naturally had to have knowledge of and make use of philosophy; they do not indeed attach themselves to a particular system, but they make use of the whole Greek philosophy since Socrates, especially that of Plato and of the Stoa. And with the help of that Origen delivers a system that without doubt testifies to a genial glance and deep power of thought, but that also repeatedly runs the danger of making theology pass over into philosophy. Subordination of the Son, eternity of the creation, praeexistence of souls, dualism of spirit and matter, earthly purification, restoration of all things are so many elements in the system of Origen that brought it into conflict with the faith of the church and [61] later brought about his condemnation. With Scripture all this was brought into agreement by a pneumatic, allegorical exegesis. But in fact in this theology of Origen the Christian religion is dissolved into ideas. It seeks a transaction between church and world, faith and science, theology and philosophy, a compromise between the foolishness of the cross and the wisdom of the world and is thus the finest and richest type of the Vermittelungstheologie that repeatedly arises in the church, Bigg, The Christian Platonists of Alexandria. Oxford 1886. Harnack D. G. I 547-604, art. in Herzog2 and the litt. cited there and in Harnack; also Zöckler, Supplement S. 51 f.

4. At the beginning of the third century the foundations of Christian theology were laid. The church, over against Paganism and Judaism, over against Gnosticism and Ebionitism, deliberately adopted a firm position, and saved the independence of Christianity. But now in the third century all kinds of internal disputes arise. The great struggle of the 3rd century ran over the relation of the Logos (and the Spirit) to the Father, and the heresy that had to be combated was Monarchianism in its two forms of dynamistic and modalistic Monarchianism. The former, such as the Alogi, Theodotus and his party, Artemas c. s. and especially also in the East Paul of Samosata, bishop of Antioch since 260, tried to maintain the unity of God in such a way that they held Son and Spirit not for persons but for attributes and denied deity to Jesus; Jesus was a man, equipped in a special measure by the Divine Logos and anointed with God’s Spirit. The modalistic Monarchians, however, taught that the Godhead itself had become flesh in Christ; they thus acknowledged the deity of Christ but identified Father and Son and thus came to patripassianism. This opinion was very widespread in the 3rd century and found much support; it was defended and advocated by Noetus, Epigonus, Kleomenes, Aeschines, Praxeas, Victorinus, Zephyrinus, Kallistus and especially Sabellius. The monarchians and anti-trinitarians were combated by Hippolytus in Contra haeresin Noeti, and Philosophumena, and also in the so-called Parvus Labyrinthus (bij Euseb. h. e. 5, 28), by Tertullianus adv. Praxeam, Novatianus de trinitate, Dionysius Alex. adv. Sabellium, Eusebius [62] contra Marcellum, de eccles. theologia, and de fide ad Sabellium. See Harnack D. G. I 604-709, and art. Monarch. in Herzog2 10, 178. Dorner, Gesch. d. Lehre v. d. P. Christi, 2e Aufl. I 497 f. Lange, Gesch. u. Entw. der Systeme der Unitariër vor der nic. Synode, 1831. Hagemann, Die römische Kirche in den 3 ersten Jahrh. 1864. At the end of the 3rd century the dogma of Christ’s deity and of his distinction from the Father stood firm. There were three hypostases in the Divine being, Father, Son and Spirit. This was the faith both in the East and in the West, Harnack D. G. I 667, 709. The concepts with which thought in the following century will occupy itself, such as μονας, τριας, οὐσια, ὑποστασις, προσωπον etc. already exist, but will only later acquire their definite character and fixed value. The foundation has been laid, and the boundaries have been demarcated, within which Christian speculation will test its strength.

B. Dogmatics in the Eastern Church.

5. The period from the 4th to the 8th century in the East is wholly taken up by the Christological controversies. The homoousia of the Son who became man in Christ with the Father was the dogma par excellence. The religious interest at stake here was that God himself had to become man, in order that we human beings, delivered from death, led to immortality and the vision of God, and made partakers of the divine nature, should be. The deity of Christ is the essence of Christianity. No one has understood this better than Athanasius. His history is that of his century. For him the whole of Christianity is concentrated in redemption unto eternal life through the true Son of God. Therein he maintains the specific character of the christ. religion, makes the doctrine of the Trinity free from cosmological speculations, which were still connected with it in Origen and Tertullian, and preserves Christianity from secularization, Harnack II 21-27, 204 f. Athanasius is a Christologist. He feels deeply the religious interest of the deity of Christ. Christ had to be God, in order to be able to be our Saviour. Because of this wholly unique significance of the Christological dogma, no proper [63] dogmatic systems see the light. There are, however, a number of important dogmatic treatises. Arianism is combated by Alexander, bishop of Alexandria, in his Epistolae de Ariana haeresi deque Arii depositione, by Athanasius in all his writings, especially in his Orationes contra Arianos, by Basil in his Libri V adv. Eunomium and in his Liber de Spiritu Sancto, by Gregory Naz. in his Orationes V de theologia, by Gregory Nyss. Libri s. orationes XII c. Eunomium, by Cyril, Hilary, Ambrose, Fulgentius e. a., and condemned at the Synod of Nicaea and Constantinople. The deity and homoousia of the H. Spirit was defended against Macedonius of Constantinople by Athanasius in his Epistolae ad Serapionem, by Basil in his work against Eunomius, and in his treatise de Spiritu Sancto, by Greg. Naz. in various of his Orationes theologicae, by Greg. Nyss. in his adv. pneumatomachos Macedonianos, and especially also by Didymus in his works de Trinitate libri tres and de Spiritu Sancto, and was established at the Syn. at Constantinople 381. Already during the question about the homoousia of the Son a second question arose about the human nature and about its union with the divine nature. Apollinaris acknowledged that the Redeemer had to be God, but he could not be a perfect man, for then there were two beings and two persons and no unity came about. The Logos therefore assumed an ensouled σαρξ and formed therein himself the πνευμα, the I, the principle of self-consciousness and self-determination. But he was opposed by Athanasius, de incarnatione domini nostri J. C. contra Apollinarem, and de salutari adventu J. C., by Greg. Naz. in his Epistolae ad Cledonium and by Greg. Nyss. in his Antirrheticus adv. Apollinarem, and condemned at the Synod at Rome 377 and at Constantinople 381. When the two natures had been established, a difference arose about the nature of their union. Not substantial and essential, but moral and relative, said Nestorius; there are in Christ two persons, ὑποστασεις. But he found a strong opponent in Cyril of Alexandria, who attacked him in various works de incarnatione Unigeniti, adversus Nestorii blasphemias contradictionum Libri V, etc., and was condemned at the Synod at Ephesus 431. The opinion standing in direct opposition to that, of Eutyches, was opposed by Theodoret in his [64] Ερανιστης ἠ πολυμορφος and Leo Magnus in his Epistola ad Flavianum and was condemned at the Synod at Chalcedon 451.

6. Chalcedonianism, however, brought no peace; the confusion increased; Monophysitism was too strong in the East. It did, indeed, find a powerful defender in Leontius of Byzantium 485-543, called by Harnack II 383 the first scholastic, and it was also recognized at the 5th synod at Constantinople 551. But the Monophysites were not won over, not even by the efforts of Justinian I. The monergistic and monotheletic conflict arising in the 7th century ended with the determination of two wills in Christ at the 6th synod at Constantinople 680. And to the present day there are Monophysite Christians in Syria, art. Jacobites in Herzog2, Dr. H. G. Kleijn, Jakob Baradeus. Leiden 1881. They accept one nature in Christ, ex. not in duabus naturis, reject Chalcedon and recognize the so-called robber-synod at Ephesus, use leavened bread at the Lord’s Supper, make the cross with one finger, have taken over image- and saint-veneration from the Greek and Roman church, and stand under the “Patriarch of Antioch” who, however, usually lives in Diarbekr. Of dogmatic importance is the confession of faith of Baradeus in Kleijn p. 110 f. Monophysites are further found in Egypt, called Copts, living under a patriarch in Cairo, Herzog2 1, 178 f., in Abyssinia, under an Abbûna, appointed by the patriarch in Cairo and residing in Gondar, Herzog2 1, 69 f., in Armenia under a Catholicos in Etschmiadsin, a monastery near Erivan in Armenia. See Hofmann, Symbolik § 62-68, with the literature indicated there and in Herzog, Kattenbusch, Confessionskunde I 205-234.

But dogmatically not only the christological writings are of importance; other treatises also come into consideration. The doctrine of God, his names, attributes, providence were treated in connection with the apologists, who had maintained the Christian concept of God over against Gnosticism. One mostly proceeded from natural knowledge of God, from God as a simple, immutable being, whose existence could be proved psychologically, cosmologically, and teleologically, who indeed was unknowable in his essence, but in Scripture was revealed as Triune, Chrysostomus, Homiliae 12 contra Anomoeos [65] seu de incomprehensibili Dei natura, Pseudodiomysius de divinis nominibus, Chrysostomus de providentia L. III. Theodoretus de providentia orationes X, Harnack II 116-122, Münscher-v. Coelln I 124 f. Cosmology and anthropology were treated especially in connection with Genesis 1-3, and in such a way that Origenism was avoided. God had created the world through the Logos after the pattern of a supramundane spiritual world; sin arose through free will and is counterbalanced by punishment and redemption, Basilius, Homiliae IX in hexaemeron. Greg. Nyss. Explicatio apologetica in hexaemeron en de hominis opificio, Ambrosius L. VI in hexaemeron. Augustinus, de Genesi contra Manich. L. II, De Genesi ad litteram liber imperfectus. Johannes Philoponus, de æternitate mundi c. Proclum, en de mundi creatione l. VII, Anastasius Sinaita, Anagogicæ contemplationes in hexaemeron, libri XII. Harnack D. G. II 122-129. Münscher-v. Coelln I 141 f. Schwane D. G. II. Furthermore, very many tractates were also written on virginity, monasticism, perfection, the priesthood, the resurrection, etc., such as by Ephraem Syrus, Greg. Naz., Chrysost., Greg. Nyss., Chrysost., as well as many apologies against Jews, Heathens, and Heretics. The most remarkable for the history of dogmatics are the Ὑποτυπωσεις, Institutiones theologicæ libr. VII, in fragments in Athanasius, and collected in Gallandii Bibl. III 662-663. Routh Reliq. Sacr. III and Migne ser. gr. 18, of which the first three books treat of God, the Father and the Creator, the Son and the Spirit, the fourth of angels and demons, the fifth and sixth of the incarnation and the seventh of creation. Further, the Κατηχησεις of Cyrillus, 18 lectures for φωτιζομενοι on the truths of the faith and five for νεοφωτιστοι on the mysteries, baptism, anointing, eucharist, liturgy, Plitt, de Cyrilli Hierosol. orationibus, quae exstant catecheticis. Heidelb. 1855. Gregorius of Nyssa, Oratio catechetica in 40 cap. contains a philosophical demonstration for the principal truths of Christianity, God’s existence, essence, trinity, creation and fall, redemption, sacraments, especially penance and eucharist, and eschatology. Chrysostomus’ Catecheses duo are especially moral addresses to the catechumens. Theodoretus gave a compendium of the Christian faith in the 5th book of his Αἱρετικης κακομυθιας ἐπιτομη Haereticarum fabularum compendium. [66] Maximus Confessor treated the truths of faith of the church in short chapters Κεφαλαια, 200 on the doctrine of God, 300 on the incarnation and sin, 500 on love. Of great significance were also the five writings περι θειων ὀνοματων, περι της οὐρανιας ἱεραρχιας, περι της ἐκκλησιαστικης ἱεραρχιας, περι μυστικης θεολογιας together with 10 letters, which saw the light in the fifth century and for a long time passed as writings of Dionysius Areopagita. They used Neoplatonic philosophy and pantheistic mysticism for elucidation and elaboration of Christian doctrine and were soon highly esteemed, commented upon by Maximus Confessor, Pachymeres and others, used by theologians, mystics, ascetics especially in the Middle Ages and almost placed on a par with Scripture. All the elements of dogmatic development were finally summarized and united by Joh. Damascenus in his Πηγη γνωσεως. This work consists of 3 parts. In part 1 Κεφαλαια φιλοσοφικα he gives a sketch of philosophy as handmaid and instrument of theology, specifically of logic according to Aristotle and Porphyrius. Part 2 is historical, Περι αἱρεσεων and gives an overview of the heresies up to Mohammed. Part 3 Ἐκδοσις ἀκριβης της ὀρθοδοξου πιστεως is the properly dogmatic part in 100 capita; he himself acknowledges therein to give nothing but what the fathers have taught and therefore also cites the Greek fathers, and Pope Leo, repeatedly, J. Langen, Johannes of Damaskus, Gotha 1879. Grundlehner, Joh. Dam. Utrecht 1876.

A history of theology and dogmatics in the Eastern church after Damascenus does not yet exist. The patristic period, in which the great dogma-formation took place, ended approximately with Justinian I 527-565, or also with Photius ± 860. This whole period from the 6th to the 9th century is a period of transition. The iconoclastic controversy 726-842 is in it the characteristic event, Harnack, D. G. II 452 f. K. Schwarzlose, Der Bilderstreit, ein Kampf der gr. K. um ihre Eigenart und um ihre Freiheit, 1890. Relics and images were already in use before the 5th century, but the Christological dogma came to support them. The peculiarity of Christianity seemed to lie in this, that it made the Divine sensibly and bodily present. The image soon became from symbol to bearer and organ of the holy. Paganism returned in the Christian [67] church. But the defence of the images was precisely connected with that of the freedom of the church and with the religious interests that were then present there. Over against that stood the imperial party, which opposed the images but thereby also wished to subject the church to the state, which wished to leave to the emperor the establishment of an ecclesiastical dogma, which by opposing the images wished to meet Jews and Mohammedans half-way. In the veneration of images the whole orthodoxy drew itself together. In the sensible one wishes to possess and enjoy the Divine. John Damascenus was one of the most powerful defenders of the veneration of images, in his de imaginibus orationes III; he brings them into the closest connection with the incarnation of God in Christ and sees in their opposition Judaism and Manichaeism. The dogmatic justification of the veneration of images has been the last labour of the church in the East. The Byzantine period, from the 9th century to the taking of Constantinople by the Turks 1453, enters in. It is a time of rest, of powerlessness in producing. The Greek church is that of orthodoxy, it only preserves; the Christological dogma is the dogma par excellence. Yet there has been up to 1453 a strong scholarly life. The writings of the Byzantine theologians, from Damascenus onward to those who experienced the taking of Constantinople, form in the Cursus patrologiae graecae of Migne the volumes 94-161. After Damascenus, whose dogmatics is still to this day norma, from the Byzantine period especially Photius deserves to be mentioned, patriarch of Constantinople 891, whose principal work Μυριοβιβλος or Bibliotheca contains learned excerpts from all manner of writers and who appeared as dogmatician in his Μυσταγωγια του ἁγιου πνευματος, ed. Hergenröther, Ratisb. 1857; cf. Gass in Herzog2, Hergenröther, Photius, Patriarch v. K., Regensburg 1867-69. Further Euthymius Zigabenus in the 12th century, who at the command of emperor Alexius I wrote a Πανοπλια δογματικη της ὀρθοδοξου πιστεως ἠτοι ὁπλοθηκη δογματων, and Nicetas Choniates ± 1220 who supplemented the work of Euthymius in his Θησαυρος ὀρθοδοξιας, in part published, cf. Ullmann, Nic. v. Meth., Euth. Zigab. und Nicetas Chon. oder die dogm. Entw. der gr. K. im 12 Jahrh., Stud. u. Kr. 1883 4tes Heft. Further is the work of Nicolaus Kabasilas, περι της ἐν Χριστῳ ζωης λογοι ἑπτα published by Gass 1849; and a treatise [68] of Demetrius Kydonius περι του καταφρονειν τον θανατον by Kuinoel, Lips. 1786.

After the capture of Constantinople by the Turks, the Greek church in the East would have been completely destroyed or shrunk into a sect, if it had not found support in the Russian empire, which was Christianized in the 10th century and adopted the Greek-Orthodox faith in its entirety and without criticism. Of the theological literature after that time we know even much less than in the earlier period. Migne’s edition goes no further and leaves us here in the lurch. An overview of names and works is given in Νεοελλενικη φιλολογια, συγγραμμα Κωνσταντινου Σαθα, Athene 1868. The attempts at union with Rome at the councils of Lyon 1274 and Florence 1439 are known to us from the acts. The correspondence of the Tübingen theologians 1576 with the patriarch Jeremias II was published at Wittenberg 1584, Gass Symb. der gr. K. 45 f.; concerning that of Cyrillus Lucaris with many Protestant theologians and statesmen see Gass, art. Lucaris in Herzog2 9, 5 f., Kattenbusch 141 f. One cannot summarize the history of this literature in one word: petrifaction, orthodoxyism, etc. The center of gravity of the Greek church has been shifted to Russia, and Russia is still young, has as yet no past and is only now emerging. Its literary and scholarly life has only just begun. From the previous century there is mentioned Theophanes Procopowitsch, who is regarded as the father of Russian systematic theology, Philaret, Gesch. der Kirche Russlands II 209 v. And from this century Philaret, Ausführl. Catech. der rechtgläub. kath. morgenl. Kirche in the work of Philaret Gesch. d. K. Russl. II 293 f. Macarius, Handbuch zum Studium der christl. orthodox. dogm. Theol., German by Blumenthal 1875. See Zöckler Supplement 112 f. Kurtz, Lehrb. d. K. G. § 68. Gass, Beiträge zur kirchl. litt. u. dogm. gesch. des gr. M. A., 2 Bde. Breslau 1844-47. Also: A. v. Reinholdt, Gesch. der russ. Lit. v. ihren Anfängen bis auf die neueste Zeit 1886. K. Krumbacher, Gesch. der byzant. Litt. 1891. Kattenbusch, Conf. 252-287. The concept of doctrine of the Greek (Russian) church is to be found in Walch I 431 sq. E. J. Kimmel, Monumenta fidei ecclesiae orientalis, 2 Bde. 1850. Schaff, Creeds of Christ. I. 1881. p. 24-82; II 57-73; 275-554. Μεσολωρας, Συμβολικη της ὀρθοδοξου [69] ἀνατολικης ἐκκλησιας I 1883. W. Gass, Symbolik der gr. Kirche 1872. H. Schmidt, Handbuch der Symbolik, 1890. S. 30 f. Hoffmann, Symboliek bl. 130 v. Kattenbusch, Lehrb. der vergl. Confessionskunde I: Die orthodoxe anatolische Kirche I 1892. Furthermore, one may also consult, concerning the churches in the East, especially in Russia, the works mentioned by Walch Bibl. theol. sel. II 559 sq. Le Quien, Oriens christianus, 3 Bde. 1740. J. Mason Neall, History of the holy eastern church I 1850. Gass, art. Gr. u. gr. russ. Kirche, Konstant. in Herzog2. J. Silbernagl, Verfassung und gegenwartiger Bestand sämmtlicher Kirchen des Orients, Landshut 1865. Victor Frank, Russische Selbstzeugnisse. I Russ. Christ. Paderborn 1889. H. Dalton, Die russ. Kirche, Leipzig 1892. Presb. and Ref. Rev. Jan. 1892 p. 103 v. Anatole Leroy Beaulieu, Das Reich des Czaren und der Russen, autor. German edition provided with concluding remarks by L. Pezold and J. Muller. Sondershausen 1884-90. III Bd.: Die Macht der Religion, Kirche, Geistlichkeit und Sektenwezen in Russland. H. Dalton, Evangel. Strömungen in der russ. Kirche der Gegenwart, Heilbronn 1881. Nik. von Gerbel-Embach, Russische Sectirer, Heilbronn 1883 (both in the Zeitfragen des Christ. Volkslebens Bd. VI and VIII). Concerning the Stundists: The Stundists, the story of a great religious revolt. James Clarke, Fleetstreet, London. Dr. Ferd. Knie, Die russ.-schismatische Kirche, Ihr Lehre und ihr Cult. Graz 1894. Kattenbusch 234 f. 542 f.

C. Dogmatics in the Latin, Roman Church.

8. From the beginning the church and theology in the West bears a character of its own. In Tertullian, Cyprian, Irenaeus this already clearly appears. In the East the dominant thought in dogmatics is this, that man through sin is subjected to the φθορα and now by God himself in Christ is delivered from death and is made partaker of life, of immortality, of the divine nature. The ideas of substance, essence, nature, stand here in the foreground and foster standstill, rest, both in doctrine and in life. In the West, on the other hand, the emphasis falls on the relation in which man stands to God. And this relation is that of a guilty person over against a righteous God, whose commandments he has transgressed [70]. Christ, however, by his work has acquired the grace of God, the forgiveness of sins, the power for the keeping of the law. And this drives out into an active life, into obedience and submission. In the East one attaches oneself especially to John, in the West to Paul. There the centre of gravity lies in the incarnation, here in the death of Christ. There the person, here the work of Christ stands in the foreground. In the East it depends in the first place on the divine-human nature, on the unity of both natures in Christ; in the West, on the other hand, on the distinction of both natures, on the mediatorial position which Christ occupies between God and man. There the mystical, liturgical, here the juridical, political element rules, Kattenbusch, Confessionskunde I 103 f. This distinction is present from the beginning. The rupture was a question of time. With the rise of Constantinople the open struggle began. Constantinople could not point to an apostolic origin and derived all its significance from politics, from the imperial court. It wanted to be a second Rome. The bishop of Constantinople received according to the council of 381 can. 3 τα πρεσβεια της τιμης after the bishop of Rome, δια το εἰναι αὐτην νεαν Ρωμην. With that it was satisfied, with a place next to Rome. The East wanted one church, yes, but in two halves, with two emperors, two capitals, two bishops of equal rank. The Greek church calls itself the orthodox, it considers itself in full possession of the truth, it rests and enjoys. But it also calls itself the Anatolian, it binds itself to a particular land and is satisfied with this. Quite different was it with Rome. Rome maintained itself not as a political city next to Constantinople, but placed itself as sedes apostolica high above Constantinople. Rome represented and defended a religious interest. It soon based its claims and rights on Mt. 16:18, and demanded a universal, a catholic position. In the Western church there therefore lies an aggressive, a world-conquering tendency. This twofold direction drove East and West apart. When in addition differences came in customs, rites and especially in the confession of the filioque, the schism was prepared more and more. In 1054 it came formally into being. [71]

Yet in many respects the West was dependent on the East. For here the church had first been founded. Here the Apostolic Fathers and the Apologists appeared. Here the mighty struggle against Gnosticism and Manichaeism was fought. Here the theological and christological dogmas were established at the councils. Synods first arose there, in the second century, in Asia Minor. The ecumenical councils, from 325 until the middle of the 9th century, were all held in the East, in Asia Minor or Constantinople, and up to that of 879 are all also recognized by the Western church. The objective foundations of church doctrine are the same in East and West. Since the second half of the second century, Eastern theology also penetrated into the West. Victorinus Rhetor, Hilary, Ambrose, Jerome, Rufinus transferred the theological world of thought of the East to the West. Old Test. exegesis, Platonic theology, monasticism, the ideal of virginity made their entry in the West and there married with the Western spirit. Ambrose † 397, studied the works of Clement, Origen, Didymus, especially of Basil, and transferred Old Test. exegesis (Hexaemeron, de Paradiso, de Cain et Abel etc. after Basil), the ideal of virginity in the sense of the mystical marriage of the soul with Christ (de virginitate, liber de Isaac et anima, after Origen, Methodius), and also the doctrine of the Trinity and the christology of the Cappadocians, (Libri V de fide, Libri III de Spiritu So, liber de incarnationis dominicæ sacramento) into the West. Hilary of Poitiers † 368, during his exile 356-359 in Asia Minor, in his work de Synodis seu de fide Orientalium informed the bishops of Gaul about the christological struggle in the East, defends this doctrine in his work de Trinitate in 12 books, and in his exegetical works on Matthew and some psalms makes ample use of typical and allegorical exegesis. Victorinus rhetor, highly praised by Augustine, Conf. 8,2, introduced in his writings Liber ad Justinum Manichæum contra duo principia Manichæorum et de vera carne Christi, in his liber de generatione divina and in his polemical writing Adversus Arium Libri IV the Neoplatonic philosophy into theology and thereby became of the greatest influence on Augustine. Rufinus † 410 spent many years in Egypt and Palestine, and [72] associated with the hermits, with Jerome, Didymus in Alexandria, John in Jerusalem, and was especially of significance because he edited many Greek works of Josephus, Eusebius, Origen, Basil, Gregory Naz., etc. in Latin. Moreover he wrote a Historia monachorum, biographies of 33 saints in the Nitrian desert, and Peregrinationes ad loca sancta; various commentaries on books of the O. T.; and finally an Expositio symboli apostolici, whose value for history is greater than for dogmatics. Finally Jerome † 420 must be mentioned here. Although brought up in Rome, he spent the greatest part of his life in Syria and Palestine. His merit lies especially in his many studies of Scripture; in theology he is little independent, and very anxious about his orthodoxy; in his exegesis he often adheres to the allegorical method of Philo and the Alexandrian theologians, above all he is a panegyrist of asceticism; he defended the virginity of Mary against Helvidius, the meritoriousness of fasting and of celibacy against Jovinian, the veneration of the martyrs and of their relics against Vigilantius and, according to Luther’s word in the table talks, always speaks of fasting, food, virginity and almost never of faith and hope and love.

9. This entire dogmatic development of East and West culminates in Augustine. The doctrine of the Trinity and the Christology of the Eastern theologians; the doctrine of man, sin, grace, faith, satisfaction, merit of Tertullian and Ambrose; the Neoplatonism of Victorinus; the doctrine of Cyprian concerning church and sacrament; the monastic ideal of Jerome and Hilary; all that was taken over by Augustine and by him, in his rich experience of life, made into his spiritual property. A theological, dogmatic system Augustine did not provide. The material that flows to him from all sides, from Scripture, tradition, philosophy, and that he expands and increases through his rich personality, did not allow itself to be surveyed at once and systematized. The principal thing that Augustine has produced in this respect is his Enchiridion de fide, spe et caritate, an exposition of the principal truths of faith on the basis of the apost. symbol. But his doctrine [73] does not lack contradictions, especially not those between his doctrine of the church and his doctrine of grace. Reuter has shown that those contradictions cannot be reconciled, and that the thoughts of Augustine do not allow themselves to be summarized in a system. And yet there has been no church father who has thought through all the theol. problems so deeply and has struggled so much to come to unity, Harnack III 87. He was the first who clearly attempted to give himself an account of all those theol. questions which later would be treated in the prolegomena of dogmatics, and which penetrate to the last psychological and noetic problems. The fixed point from which he proceeds is man, his self-consciousness, his ineradicable longing for and need of truth, happiness, the good, which are all one. This point of departure is certain and reliable (against the skeptics), because doubting itself still presupposes faith in truth and self-consciousness is the ultimate ground of truth. Augustine himself was consumed by such a burning love of truth. Now Augustine does indeed assume two organs of knowledge, sensus and intellectus. But the knowledge obtained by the latter far surpasses that of the former. The sensible is not the truth itself; it is only an image of it. Eternal, unchangeable truth is to be found only through thinking. To be sure, Augustine does not deny that we can also ascend through the visible to the invisible, but ordinarily he does not seek the way to truth outside us through nature, but through man’s own spirit. There he finds, in his, in the reason common to all, eternal, unchangeable truths, which themselves in turn point back to and are summed up in God: the highest truth, the highest being, the only good, aeterna ratio, principium universorum. Therefore, because God is full truth, being, the good, the beautiful itself, therefore in Him alone there is rest for man, for his thinking and willing. Self-knowledge and knowledge of God are the two poles between which all his thinking moves. The science of nature is indeed not despised, but is nevertheless placed in the background. Deum et animam scire cupio! Noverim me noverim te! God is the sun of spirits. We see and know no truth except in and through his light.

But philosophy is nevertheless insufficient. Not only because of the incapacity of reason to find the way to the truth, but especially also because superbia stands in its way. [74] And humilitas is the only way to life. There is therefore yet another way to the truth, viz. the auctoritas, the fides. It presupposes on the one hand some knowledge, but on the other hand seeks after knowledge and strives for understanding. Not only the existence of God and the immortality of the soul, but also the Trinity Augustine attempted to prove from nature and especially from man himself. But God is for him not the abstract, predicate-less being, but the living God, the highest truth and the highest good, the highest blessedness, and therefore the only and full satisfaction of man’s heart. Augustine’s whole thinking is religious, theological; he sees everything in God. In that light he also views the world; it is on the one hand a non-being, an image, perishable, but on the other hand, as God’s creation, a work of art, created according to the ideas in God’s consciousness, and gradually, step by step, by degrees realizing those ideas, and forming a unity that contains within itself the richest diversity; things differ among themselves in degree of being and thus of truth and goodness. It is a cosmos, resting on idea and number, order, measure, held together by one will, one reason, an amplissima inmensaque respublica; in which the miracles are only contra quam est nota natura, in which sin is only a privatio, is compensated by punishment, and also contributes to the beauty and harmony of the whole. In the pulcherrimum carmen of creation this antithesis too is necessary; sin is like the contrasts in a discourse, like the barbarisms in language, like the shadow on the painting. Augustine tries to insert evil into the order of the whole. But thereby he does not excuse sin. He sets, namely, the goal of things not in the ethically good, but in this, that creation is and more and more becomes a harmonious revelation of all God’s virtues and perfections. And to that end sin too is made serviceable by God’s will. Further, one knows how deeply and seriously Augustine conceived of sin. Nondum considerasti, quanti ponderis sit peccatum. He saw it around him and felt it: man seeks God and has need of Him, and he cannot and will not come to Him. In man there is still only good, that he is. Humanity is a massa perditionis. Sin is above all pride, superbia in the soul and concupiscentia is the body. Sin has been in Adam the deed of us all and therefore [75] has become the lot of us all. It is carentia dei, privatio boni, not only an act but a condition, natura vitiata, a defectus, inopia, corruptio, a non posse non peccare. The virtues of the heathens are splendida vitia. Deliverance from that condition exists only through the gratia, which already takes its beginning in the praedestinatio, which reveals itself objectively in the person and the work of Christ, certum propriumque fidei catholicae fundamentum, but which also must come subjectively into us as gratia interna, and must pour faith and love into us. But that gratia in Augustine works only within the boundaries of the visible church. This is in him an institution of salvation, dispenser of grace, seat of authority, guarantor of Scripture, dwelling-place of love, foundation of the Spirit, indeed the regnum Dei itself. Augustine has deeply felt the importance of the community for religion; the church is the mother of the believers. The doctrine of the praedestinatio and of the gratia cannot be reconciled with this concept of church and sacrament. Multi qui foris videntur intus sunt et multi qui intus videntur foris sunt. There are sheep outside and wolves inside the fold. Augustine also indeed taught the perseverantia sanctorum, but he did not dare to allow the subjective assurance of it. And precisely because of this conception of church and sacrament, faith and forgiveness could not come into their own in the theology of Augustine. Faith and love, forgiveness and sanctification are not clearly distinguished. It is as if faith and forgiveness are only provisional; Augustine passes from these at once to love, sanctification, good works. Communion with God, the religio, thereby becomes the result of a process, which faith, love, good works, etc. gradually bring about. Blessedness, eternal life, the visio and fruitio Dei, nevertheless again become a fruit of merit, and ascesis is one of the means that cause man to attain this goal.

Thus Augustine has become of the greatest significance for later dogmatics. He dominates the following centuries. Every reformation returns to him and to Paul. In every dogma he has found a formula that is adopted and repeated by all. His influence extends to all churches, directions, and sects. Rome appeals to him for its doctrine of church, sacrament, and authority; the reformation felt itself akin to him [76] in the doctrine of praedestinatio and gratia; scholasticism built further on the subtlety of his observation, the sharpness of his intellect, the power of his speculation, Thomas was called optimus interpres S. Augustini; mysticism found material in his neoplatonism and religious enthusiasm; Roman Catholic and Protestant piety strengthens itself through his writings; asceticism and pietism find nourishment and support in him. Augustine belongs not to one church, but to all churches together. He is Doctor universalis. Even philosophy cannot neglect him except to its own detriment. And through his beautiful, enchanting style, through his fine, precise, highly individual and yet again universally human expression, he is more than any other church father still today to be enjoyed. He is the most Christian and the most modern of all the church fathers, he stands of all the closest to us. He has replaced the aesthetic world-view with the ethical, the classical with the Christian. Our best, deepest, and richest thoughts in dogmatics we owe to him. Augustine has been the dogmatician of the Christian church. Cf. Harnack. Dogm. III2 3-215.

10. Augustinianism was for more than a century the object of a fierce struggle; it kept minds divided. It found opposition not only in Pelagius, Coelestius, Julianus, the proper Pelagians, but also in many monks in Gaul, among whom are especially named Joh. Cassianus, Vincentius of Lerinum, who in his Commonitorium not only indicates the characteristics of tradition but at the end also takes sides against strict Augustinianism, Eucherius of Lyon, Hilarius of Arles, Salvianus of Massilia, Faustus of Rhegium, Gennadius of Massilia, author of de fide sua ceu de dogmatibus ecclesiasticis in 88 capita. On Augustine’s side stood, besides Possidius of Calama in Numidia, Orosius of Bracara in Spain, Marius Mercator in Constantinople e. a. above all also Prosper Aquitanus, Vigilius of Tapsus in Numidia, Fulgentius of Ruspe, author of de fide ad Petrum seu de regula verae fidei, a short sketch of the principal truths of the faith, Caesarius of Arles, Avitus of Vienna e. a. The synod at Orange in 529 did indeed give some decision in the struggle in favor of Augustine, but did not prevent semipelagian ideas [77] from gaining entrance more and more. The gratia praeveniens was accepted, but the gratia irresistibilis and the particular praedestinatie nevertheless not decidedly accepted, Wiggers. Versuch einer pragm. Darstellung des August. u. Pelag. Hamburg, Perthes, 2 Theile. 1833. Id. Zeits. f. d. hist. Theol. 1854-1859 treats the same struggle from Gregorius to Gottschalk. Harnack, D. G. III 219 f. In what follows, not much remained of Augustinianism. Pope Gregorius the Great † 604, alongside Augustine, Hieronymus and Ambrosius indeed called the fourth great teacher of the church, produced nothing new, but appropriated the ideas of the earlier teachers of the church and in manifold ways worked them out for life. His direction is practical and at the same time mystical-allegorical. He formed no system, but simply preserved what had been acquired, made the dogmata ready-made for clergy and layman, and above all schematized the various mediators and means (angels, saints, Christ, alms, mass for the soul, purgatory, penance) which make it possible for the weakened will of man to be freed from the punishments of sin. Through all this he labored with faithful care at the education of the new peoples and at the formation of the clergy. He sanctioned the external legal religion of the Roman church, and gave to medieval Catholicism its proper type. He is the keystone of the old, the foundation-stone of the new world. Through his liturgical writings and through his church song he introduced the Roman cultus among the Germans. Through popularizing the dogmata of the fathers of the church he made the doctrine of the church practically usable for the uncivilized, heathen Germans and promoted superstition, asceticism, work-righteousness. With Boethius and Cassiodorius he exercised great influence on the formation and the rise of learning among the Germans. Cassiodorius † ± 565 wrote a Liber de artibus ac disciplinis liberalium litterarum and discussed therein the significance of each of the 7 liberal arts and in his work de institutione divinarum litterarum gave a methodology of the theol. study. Boethius, through his translations and explanations of the logika of Aristoteles, the Isagoge of Porphyrius, introduced the knowledge and the use of Greek philosophy among the Germans. And Gregorius transferred theology in the church to the Germans, Harnack, [78] D. G. III 233-244. Lau, Gregor. I nach seinem Leben und seiner Lehre geschildert, Leipzig 1845, art. in Herzog2. Alzog, Patrologie 500.

In the absence of all culture and amid the unrest of the migration of peoples, there could in the first period among the Germanic peoples be no question of a scientific life. The first traces are to be found in the Bible translation and the Arian confession of faith of Ulfilas † 383. Toward the end of the 5th century the East and West Goths, Vandals, Suevi, Burgundians, Heruli, Lombards etc. had already been Christianized in an Arian sense. But Clovis 481-511, with his Frankish kingdom, adopted Roman Christianity. Patrick, author of Confessiones, is apostle of the Irish † 465. Scotland was Christianized by Columba † 597. The Anglo-Saxons were converted by Augustine with 40 monks, sent there by Pope Gregory I in 596. Fridolinus and Columbanus † 615 et al. labored in Francia and Italy; the latter left behind important letters and also a regula coenobialis. Alemannia, Bavaria, Thuringia, Frisia etc. were Christianized in the 6th and 7th centuries. Boniface is the apostle of the Germans in the 8th century † 755, J. P. Muller, Bonif. eene kerkhist. studie, Amst. 1869. The Saxons were brought in last under Charlemagne by wars 772-804, and the North especially by Ansgar † 865. One of the first dogmaticians is Isidorus Hispalensis † 636; his writings are of grammatical, historical, archaeological, dogmatic, moral, and ascetic content and comprise all that in that time could be known. He transfers classical and patristic learning to his people. He is not original, but gives extracts from pagan and Christian works. In his Originum sive etymologiarum libri XX he speaks in book 6 about Scripture, in book 7 about God, the angels, prophets, apostles, clerici, believers, in book 8 about the church, in book 9 about the peoples. His Libri III Sententiarum s. de summo bono is especially excerpted from Augustine and Gregory and has been an example for the medieval collectors of sententiae. Book I deals with God, creation, time, world, sin, angel, man, soul, Christ, H. Spirit, church, heresy, law, Scripture, Old and New Covenant, prayer, baptism, martyrium, miracles, antichrist, end of the world; book II and III are of ethical content. It is [79] a compendium, which delivers the theological capital of the previous centuries to the Germanic people. But it did not come to an independent elaboration. Charlemagne did indeed attempt by force to introduce the old culture into the Frankish kingdom. And indeed in the Carolingian period there was no lack of men of great learning, but diligent collecting and unindependent reproducing nevertheless remain the character traits of the period, which begins with the 7th century and ends only with the crusades. Augustine and Gregory were the authorities. The principal among these Carolingian theologians was Alcuin † 804, who combated the adoptianism of Elipandus of Toledo and Felix of Urgel in Liber contra haeresin Felicis, Libri VII contra Felicem and Libri IV adv. Elipandum and furthermore also wrote de fide sanctae et individuae Trinitatis Libri III, de Trinitate ad Fredegisum quaestiones and Libellus de processione Sp. Si. In all these works Alcuin shows his familiarity with the works of the church fathers; he refutes the adoptian errors with the same arguments that earlier against Nestorianism e.g. were employed by Cyril. The study of Augustine led Gottschalk in the 9th century to confession of the gemina praedestinatio; he found support with Prudentius of Troyes, Remigius of Lyon, Ratramnus, Lupus of Ferrières et al., but was at the same time fiercely opposed by Rhabanus, Hincmar, Erigena. The filioque came from Spain into the Frankish kingdom and was incorporated into the symbol. Already at the synod at Gentilly 767 one had the conviction that it was symbolic. It was defended with talent by Charles’s theologians, Alcuin de processione Sp. Si., Theodulf of Orleans de Spiritu So. The synod at Aachen 809 decided that the filioque belonged in the symbol. The veneration of images met with opposition in the Frankish kingdom; the 7th ecumenical synod, which demanded servitium and adoratio of the images, was not recognized, but after the 9th century the opposition gradually fell silent. And finally, in the Carolingian period the mass was also further developed, especially by Paschasius Radbertus, liber de corpore et sanguine domini 831, who was opposed by Rhabanus and Ratramnus. Radbertus is also known as author of a compendium de fide, spe et caritate, which summarizes truths of faith into a certain whole. Especially deserving of mention in this period is also Joh. Scotus Erigena † ± 891, although he [80] belongs more at home in philosophy than in theology. He is not the father of scholasticism but of speculative theology. He aligns himself with the gnosis of Origen and the mysticism of Pseudo-Dionysius. His fundamental thought is the Neoplatonic doctrine of emanation. In his work de divisione naturae he first says that theology and philosophy are actually one. The recta ratio and the vera auctoritas do not contend. The fides has its truth, as theologia καταφατικη, affirmativa, in Scripture and tradition, but reason, as theologia negativa, ἀποφατικη, strips this truth of its coverings and tracks down in it the idea. Thus he transforms dogmatic truth into a cosmic and theogonic process. All that is he comprehends under one concept, natura, which in 4 stages of being, through the Logos, reveals itself in the world of appearances and returns again to God.

11. After the tenth century, the saeculum obscurum, a new life awakens everywhere. From the monastery of Clugny there proceeds a religious reformation, which continues in the mendicant orders of the 12th century. Piety is conceived as a following and imitation of the life of Jesus, especially in his last week of suffering. The crusades bring new ideas and broaden the horizon. The power of the Popes increases and sets nothing less than world dominion as its ideal. Scholarship receives in the Universities its own nursery and enters theology as scholasticism. Theologia scholastica indicates, in distinction from the theologia positiva, which presents the dogmas in a simple, thetic form, that the dogmatic material is worked up according to a scientific method customary in the schools. Scholasticism is in itself nothing other than scientific theology. It begins where the theologia positiva ends. This is satisfied when it has expressed and proved the dogmas. But the theologia scholastica proceeds from those dogmas as its principia, Thomas, S. Theol. I qu. 2 en 8, and from there attempts by reasoning to trace the coherence of the dogmas, to penetrate more deeply into the knowledge of revealed truth, and to defend it against all opposition. In the Middle Ages, however, scholasticism, through various circumstances, acquired a definite character that has brought it into disrepute. In the first place, in the [81] Middle Ages matters were very lamentable with source-study. Observation was not denied in theory as principium of knowledge, but in fact one simply resigned oneself to tradition and thought that earlier generations had already applied observation sufficiently and had fully set it down in the books. Physics, medicines, psychology, etc., everything was studied from books. In theology the material lay fully before the eyes in Scripture, but especially in tradition, in the church fathers, councils, etc. Scholasticism did not stand critically and skeptically over against that, but childishly believing. Faith was the point of departure of scholasticism. One sought the dogmatic material in Scripture and tradition and accepted it without any criticism. Of Scripture, in that connection, often not much came into its own. Hebrew and Greek one did not know. Grammatical and historical sense was almost entirely lacking. One drew the material chiefly from the church fathers, from Augustine, Hilary, Ambrose, Jerome, Gregory, Isidore, Pseudodionysius, Damascenus and Boëthius. To that there now came, in the second place, that thinking was gradually trained by the logical writings of Aristotle, in order to process this dogmatic material dialectically and systematically. At first there were of Aristotle only the two logical writings de categoriis and de interpretatione in Latin translation, together with the introduction of Porphyry to the categories, and various commentaries especially by Boëthius known; of Plato one had only a portion of the Timaeus in translation and further quotations in Augustine, pseudo-Dionysius e. a. Scholarship outside theology was divided into the trivium and quadrivium and was contained in the encyclopaedic work of Cassiodorius. Only since the middle of the 12th century did the Organon of Aristotle become fully known and at the beginning of the 13th century also his other works on metaphysics, physics, psychology and ethics. From this philosophy one borrowed the dialectical method, but further also all kinds of problems and questions about the relation of faith and reason, theology and philosophy, about the reality of the general concepts, about the attributes of God, the miracles, the creation from eternity, the soul, etc. Aristotle became praecursor Christi in naturalibus, just as John the Baptist in gratuitis. All kinds of cosmological, natural-scientific, psychological, philosophical material was thereby taken up into dogmatics. [82] Dogmatics was no longer a doctrine of faith but became a system of philosophy, an encyclopaedia of scholarship, in which all kinds of philosophical material was taken up but in which religion often came off short. And finally this whole scholastic system was presented in a form that, the longer it went on, gave rise to serious misgivings. Not only was the material worked up so dialectically, so hair-splittingly teased out and so juridically treated, that the connection with the religious life of the congregation was wholly broken; by preference one occupied oneself with all kinds of subtle questions about angels and devils, heaven and hell, etc. But the questionnaire form, into which everything was cast, promoted doubt and often let auctoritas and ratio fall completely apart and stand hostilely over against one another. Many a time the cause of a dogma seems wholly lost; but a single appeal to a text, to a church father, makes everything good again. The impression nevertheless remains that things stand hopelessly with the dogma. The language in the long run was not suitable to satisfy with the content of the system. The barbarous Latin that one wrote was, according to Paulsen’s remark, indeed a proof that one thought independently and freely formed the words that one needed for one’s ideas, but still could not suffice as soon as the sense for the classical, the simple beauty again awakened to some extent.

12. Scholasticism proceeds in three periods, in an aetas vetus, media and nova. It begins with Anselmus. He still lives in the naïve confidence that faith can be elevated to knowledge, and attempts that for the existence of God in his Monologium, and for the incarnation and satisfaction in his Cur Deus homo. He does it not yet in the Aristotelian-scholastic form, but more in the sense of Plato’s dialogues; yet scholastic speculation takes its beginning with him. Lombardus in his Sententiarum libri IV gave not a few tractates, as Anselmus, but a complete dogmatic and ethical handbook. He supplied the text for scholastic theology, and himself already makes a broad use of philosophy, for clarification and defense of the truth. Alexander Halesius wrote a Summa universae theologiae, which actually is already a commentary on the work of Lombardus; but, while this one reasons at once through to the end over a subject [83], Halesius clothes his thoughts in a strict dialectical, syllogistic form. Therewith the scholastic method was established once and for all. It did not proceed entirely without struggle. Many had objections to the use of Aristotle in theology. There remained at all times Platonists, who judged Plato to be much more in agreement with church doctrine. Johannes van Salisbury, Gerhoch, Walther van St. Victor, Petrus Cantor, Alanus ab insulis, Willem van Auvergne e. a. pointed to the dangers of philosophy; and Abaelard seemed a terrifying example. But the scholastic method, covered by famous men, gained ground. Soon Aristotle’s philosophy, although modified here and there, was regarded as the best defense of church doctrine. Most completely, according to this method, dogmatics was worked out by Albertus Magnus † 1280, Thomas Aquinas † 1274 and Bonaventura † 1274. All three wrote a commentary on the work of Lombardus, and were later followed therein by many. Fleury in his time already counted 244. Moreover Albertus wrote a Summa theologiae (unfinished) and a Summa de creaturis; Thomas a Summa theologiae (unfinished), and Summa de veritate cath. fidei contra gentiles; Bonaventura a Breviloquium. All three have brought scholasticism generally into honor, assured for theology a place of honor among the sciences, and with extraordinary power of thought treated the deepest problems. But scholasticism has not been able to maintain itself at that height. With Duns Scotus † 1308 the confidence is already shaken. He rejects nominalism, but nevertheless combats Thomas everywhere, wherever he but dares and can. The Franciscan de Rada † 1608 later in his Controversiae theol. inter Thomam et Scotum, Colon. 1620 counted no fewer than 86 points of dispute. The principal of these were those about the knowability of God, the distinction in the divine attributes, original sin, the merits of Christ, etc. and especially also the immaculate conception of Mary. Scotus is indeed still a realist, but he is also skeptical and places theology and philosophy alongside each other, Werner, Joh. Duns Scotus, Wien 1881. Philosophy does not reach God, theology rests only on authority, on revelation. But nominalism in particular contributed to the decline of scholasticism; it had already arisen with Roscellinus, Berengarius, but gained ground especially in the 14th and 15th century. [84] Petrus Aureolus † 1321, author of a commentary on Lombardus and of Quodlibeta said that the universalia did not exist objectively in things, but were only thoughts; the real is always individual. Willem Durand de St. Porciano † 1332 denied the universalia and denied the scientific character of theology, it is no unity, it cannot demonstrate the truth of the dogmata and refute the grounds against them. Willem van Occam † 1349, who denied the pope all power over worldly princes, supported these in their resistance against the pope but also in his turn asked protection from him, attacked both the school of Thomas and that of Scotus. He took pleasure in showing the uncertainty of theology; existence, unity, omnipotence of God, finitude of the world, immateriality of the soul, necessity of revelation etc., everything is unprovable. Everything is only, because God wills it so. There are no truths of reason. God could become man but he could also become a stone. Platonism and Augustinianism disappear from theology. Everything becomes arbitrariness. Theology perishes in skepticism. Even if in the schools realism also mostly remained dominant: it nevertheless no longer had any creative power, the form became more rigid, the language more barbarous, the method more hair-splitting; subtlety replaced thoroughness, ostentation came in the place of scientific seriousness, dogmatics degenerated into an endless dispute. In addition, the nominalism of Occam gained adherents, Adam Goddam, Armand de Beauvoir, Robert Holkot, from whom the saying would originate that something in theology can be true and in philosophy false, Joh. Buridan, Petrus van Alliaco and Gabriël Biel † 1495, the last scholastic. Literature on Scholasticism: Alsted, Theol. schol. didact. 1608 p. 4-8. Voetius, Disp. I 12-29. Ueberweg, Grundriss der Gesch. der Philos. Band II. 6e Aufl. 1881. Windelband, Gesch. der Philos. 1892 S. 207-274. Ritter, Gesch. der Philos. Bd. VII-VIII. Erdman, Grundriss der Gesch. der Philos. I 240 f. Bach, Dogm. gesch. des M. A. 2 Bde., Wien, 1873, ’75. Schwane, Dogm. gesch. der mittl. Zeit. 1882. Harnack, Dogm. gesch. III 312 f., and other dogma-historical works of Hagenbach, Thomasius, Seeberg, Nitzsch etc. Prantl., Gesch. der Logik. Bd. II-IV. H. Siebeck, Gesch. der Psychol. 2e Abth. 1884. Reuter, Gesch. der relig. Aufklärung im M. A. 2 Bde., Berlin, 1875-77. Werner, [85] Die Schol. des späteren M. A. 3 Bde., Wien, 1881. Stöckl, Gesch. der Philos. des M. A., 3 Bde., Mainz, 1864-66. Hauréau, Histoire de la philos. schol. 2e ed., Paris, 1872, ’80. Rousselot, Etudes sur la philos. du moyen-âge., Paris, 1840-42. Pierson, Gesch. van het R. Kath. 3e deel. Id. De Nomin. et real. 1855. Nitzsch, art. Schol. Theol. in Herzog2. H. v. Eicken, Gesch. der mittelalt. Weltanschauung, Stuttgart, 1888. W. Kaulich, Gesch. der Schol. Philos. Prag, 1863. J. H. Löwe, Der Kampf zwischen Nom. u. Real. im M. A., sein Ursprung und sein Verlauf, Prag, 1876. M. Maywald, Die Lehre von der doppelten Wahrheit, Berlin, 1871, enz.

13. A special form of scholasticism was mysticism, which formerly was indeed regarded as hostile to scholasticism but is now better understood in its nature and character. The mystics have never combated scholastic theology; men such as Hugo and Richard of St. Victor have, in their treatises, treated various parts of theology according to the same method as Lombardus, and conversely scholastics such as Halesius, Albertus, Thomas, Bonaventura have also left behind many mystical writings. Mysticism is even incorporated into schol. theol., Thomas S. Th. II, 2 qu. 179 sq. Of a struggle and antagonism there is therefore no question. In addition, church and theology have at all times distinguished between true and false mysticism; Neoplatonism, Gnosticism, Erigena, Almarich, Eckhart, Molinos, Böhme, etc. have always been condemned, but the writings of pseudo-Dionysius, Albertus, Bonaventura, etc. have always been praised and approved by the Roman church. There must therefore be a distinction between orthodox and pantheistic mysticism. The former, now, did not stand hostile over against scholasticism. But it was indeed distinct from it. First, in method: scholasticism followed the analytical method of Aristotle and tried, by reasoning, to ascend from finite things to God; mysticism followed the synthetic method of Plato and tried, from the higher contemplation which the soul attained by grace, to gain insight into the truths of faith. In origin: scholasticism arose especially through the becoming known of the writings of Aristotle, and had as its object the sententiae of Lombardus; mysticism arose especially through the [86] becoming known of the works of pseudo-Dionysius, which found acceptance in the West through the translation of Erigena. In essence: scholasticism is the attempt, with the help of philosophy, to obtain scientific knowledge of revealed truth; mystical theology had as its object the mystical communion with God, which was granted to some privileged persons by special grace, and now described how and by what way the soul could attain thereto and what light from there, from out of that communion with God, could be spread over the truths of faith. Mysticism in this sense has at all times had its representatives in the Christian church, and occurs to a greater or lesser degree among all church fathers; it is most closely connected with the monastic ideal; it proceeds from the supposition that there is not only a knowledge of God through the intellect, but also an experience, finding, communion of God through the feeling. In the Middle Ages it attached itself especially to Augustine, who first had sounded the depth of the life of the soul and had rendered it in inimitable language, and to pseudo-Dionysius, who had indicated the steps and milestones along which the soul could ascend from finitude to the infinite God. Through practical exercises, such as asceticism, purification, self-torment, flight from the world, etc., or also through theoretical reflection, such as auditio, lectio, oratio, cogitatio, consideratio, meditatio, the soul can already here on earth come to a state of beholding or enjoying God. Thus mysticism is conceived and described in various works of Bernard of Clairvaux, Hugo and Richard of St. Victor, Bonaventura, Thomas, Gerson and Thomas à Kempis. But it lay at hand that mysticism, thus laying the emphasis on contemplation, began to disparage knowledge; in the enjoyment of the heart the clarity of consciousness, the value of knowledge, was lost; it came under the influence many times of neoplatonism and acquired, e.g. in Eckhart † 1327 and others, a pantheistic trait, W. Preger, Gesch. der deutschen Mystik im M. A., 2 Bde. Leipzig 1875-81. Görres, Die christ. Mystik, 2e Aufl. 5 Bde. Regensburg 1880. Harnack, D. G. III 314 f. 374 f. Art. Myst. in Herzog2. The dogmengesch. and philos. works, mentioned above with the schol., besides the monographs on Tauler, Eckhart, etc. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit IV 49 f. Further litter. in Kihn, Encycl. u. Methodol. der Theol. 1892. S. 453 f. [87]

14. However, in the Middle Ages there was no lack of protests against the direction in which church and theology were developing. Various sects appeared, Cathars, Albigensians, the followers of Amalric of Bena, David of Dinant, Ortlieb, the sect of the free spirit, etc., and renewed the old Manichaean and Gnostic errors, Reuter, Gesch. der relig. Aufklärung im M. A. Berlin 1875-’77. L. Flathe, Gesch. der Ketzer im M. A. 3 Bde. Stuttgart 1845. Kurtz, Lehrb. der Kirch. gesch. § 108. Döllinger, Beiträge zur Sektengesch. des M. A. 2 Th. München, Beck, 1890. The Waldensians came into conflict with Rome through their doctrine of the freedom of preaching, Comba, art. in Herzog2, Haupt, Waldenzerthum und Inquisition im südöstl. Deutschl. Freiburg, Mohr, 1890. In many circles there was a return to Augustine and Paul. Bradwardina † 1349, in a writing de causa Dei contra Pelagium, came forward as a courageous defender of the grace of God, Lechler, De Th. Bradwardina commentatio, Lips. 1863 en art. in Herzog2. Wiclif † 1384 was dependent on him, just as Hus † 1451 in his turn again was dependent on Wiclif. Wiclif’s works have been published since 1882 by the Wiclif Society in London. His doctrine is best known from his Summa in 12 books, abridged and systematically summarized in his Trialogus, published by Lechler, from his treatise de Christo et suo adversario Antichristo published by Buddensieg, and from his tract de ecclesia published by Loserth. That Hus is wholly dependent on Wiclif has been demonstrated by Loserth, Hus und Wiclif, Prag. u. Leipz. 1884. Even within the church many arose who desired a reformation in capite et membris. Petrus d’ Ailly † 1425, Gerson † 1429, Nic. of Clémanges † 1414, Nicolaus Cusanus † 1464 and others defended the episcopal system; and the reforming councils of Pisa 1409, Constance 1414 and Basel 1431 expressed themselves in that spirit. The council at Constance in the 4th and 5th session declared that an ecumenical council had its authority immediately from Christ and that the pope also was subject to it. But all these reformations had little success. They were criticism of what existed from the same principle, Harnack D. G. III 408 f. 570 f. And when in the 16th century the Protestant Reformation arose, the Roman church soon also took up a position against it. Before the council of Trent the [88] principal theologians were Cajetanus † 1534, Dr. Eck † 1543, Cochlaeus † 1552, Sadoletus † 1547 and others. They are also distinguished by the fact that they freely acknowledge the defects of the church. Their writings are mostly polemical against the Reformers. The most noteworthy is Dr. Eck’s Enchiridion locorum omnium adv. Lutherum et alios hostes ecclesiae 1525, which up to 1576 was reprinted 46 times, Hugo Lämmer, Die vortrident. kath. Theol. des Reformationszeitalters, Berlin 1858. Theology was, especially through the mockery of the Humanists, in disrepute; one looked back on the Middle Ages as a time of Gothic barbarism; and the pious too desired more simplicity and truth, more practical Christianity. For the Roman theologians some courage was required and some time was also needed, to come to reflection and to take up again the thread of scholasticism. The council of Trent did indeed adopt various decisions for reformation, but chose as strongly as possible a party against the Protestant Reformation. The dogmas about which there was dispute with the Reformation, such as the doctrine of tradition, sin, free will, justification, the sacraments, were sharply and clearly formulated, in the Roman sense; but the mutual differences were left at rest. The question of pope and council, of Thomism and Scotism, etc. was not discussed or was treated as cautiously as possible, Harnack, D. G. III 588 f. Herzog2 16, 4 f. and the literature cited there. On the occasion that at Trent one deliberated about holding lectures on Holy Scripture in all monasteries, a Benedictine abbot proposed adding to that a prohibition of scholasticism. But the Dominican Soto took the floor, refuted the objections, praised the usefulness of scholasticism and found general assent, Kleutgen, Theol. d. Vorzeit IV 80. Gradually scholasticism was restored to its honor, but with modification. Melchior Canus † 1560 devotes in his work de locis theologicis an entire book to the defense of scholasticism, lib. VIII: de auctoritate scholasticorum doctorum, and concedes that many scholastics have made themselves guilty of various errors; he disapproves those defects but decisively defends the scholastic method. It was simplified and stripped of exaggeration, but otherwise retained. A second change consisted in this, that Lombardus more and more makes room for Thomas. In the Middle Ages the Sententiae of Lombardus had been the dogmatic handbook; and also after the Reformation Soto † 1560, Maldonatus † 1583, Estius † 1608 and others still wrote commentaries on that work. But the famous Cajetanus produced a commentary on the Summa of Thomas. And Franziscus Vittoria † 1566, Hiëronymus Perez † 1556, Barth. of Torres † 1558 and others followed his example. Toward the end of the 16th century Lombardus in most schools had been replaced by Thomas; this one was purer, more extensive, more methodical, and penetrated more deeply into the dogmas than Lombardus. Furthermore, this too was still a difference between the old and the new scholasticism, that the latter allied itself much more closely with positive theology. In the Middle Ages positive dogmatics, i.e. the proof for the truth from Scripture and tradition, was almost wholly neglected; but now this was incorporated into dogmatics and worked out with great learning. Canus wrote a separate work on the sources of proof, which he calls loci theologici; by all neo-scholastics Greg. of Valentia, Suarez, Bannez, Diego Ruyz, etc., the study of Scripture and tradition is zealously practiced. Exegesis, church history, patristics, archaeology, etc. become their own, independent sciences. Theology is still something other and more than dogmatics. And because finally the new scholastics did not enjoy the repose as the theologians in the Middle Ages, but were attacked from all sides and had to defend the Roman doctrine on all points, there remained no place and no time for the subtle questions and the hair-splitting distinctions; form, method, language, expression became simpler; the works of Canisius, Canus, Petavius, Bellarminus, etc. are written in pure Latin, and in a pleasant style, and are in this respect favorably distinguished from the works of the medieval theologians. But whatever was changed and improved, the spirit remained the same. Rome has not denied itself and has also learned nothing from the Reformation. Indeed, the proper character of the Roman doctrine has come to light even more clearly after and through the Reformation. Pelagianism and Curialism have further developed after the council of Trent and have achieved a complete victory. Compare for the history of Roman theology after Trent: Walch, Bibl. theol. sel. I 148 sq. Pfaff, Introductio in Hist. theol. liter. 1724 p. 194 sq. [90] 206 sq. M. Brühl, Gesch. der kath. Liter. Deutschl. vom 17 Jahrh. 2e Aufl. Wien 1861. H. Hurter, Nomenclator literarius recentioris theol. cathol. 4 vol. Innsbr. 1871-’83. Karl Werner, Gesch. der apol. u. polem. Lit. der christl. Theol. 5 Bde. Schaffh. 1861-67. Id. Gesch. der kath. Theol. Deutschl. seit dem Trienter Concil bis zur Gegenwart, München, 1866, 2e Aufl. 1889. Id. Der heilige Thomas von Aquino, 3 Bde. Regensburg 1858-59. Bd. I Leben und Schriften. Bd. II Lehre. Bd. III Geschichte des Thomismus. Id. Franz Suarez und die Schol. der letzten Jahrh. 2 Bde. Regensburg 1861, 62. Schwane, Dogmengesch. der neueren Zeit, Freiburg 1890 S. 16 f. A. Stöckl, Gesch. der Philos. des M. A. III 1866 S. 628 f. Herzog2 15, 589 f. Harnack, D. G. III 617 f.

15. Neo-scholastic theology arose in Spain and was there especially practised at the universities of Salamanca, Alcala (Complutum) and Coimbra. Franz de Vittoria 1480-1566, born at Vittoria in Cantabrië, belonged to the Dominicans and was sent by his order to Paris to devote himself to theology. There he studied especially Thomas. Having returned to Spain, he became professor at Salamanca and there disseminated the doctrine of Aquinas, on whose Summa he also wrote a commentary. Among his pupils belonged the most famous theologians of Spain, Melchior Canus † 1560, Loci theolog. 1563; Dominicus Soto † 1560, Comm. in 4m librum Sent. 1557-60 and de natura et gratia libri III 1547 against the Scotist Catharinus; Barthol. Medina, Expositio in I 2 Thomae 1576. Thomistic theology was especially practised by the order of the Dominicans, to whom, besides the above-mentioned, also belonged: Petrus de Soto, prof. at Dillingen † 1563, Institutiones christ. 1548, Methodus confessionis 1553, Compendium doctrinae cathol. 1556, Defensio cathol. confessionis 1557 against Brenz; Dom. Bannez, Comm. in I Thomae, 2 tomi 1584, ’88; Didacus Alvarez, de auxiliis gratiae div. et humani arbitrii viribus et libertate etc. Lugd. 1611, de incarn. verbi div. Lugd. 1614; Vincentius Contenson, Theologia mentis et cordis, 2 tom. Colon. 1687; J. Baptista Gonetus † 1681, Clypeus theol. thomist. 1659-69, diss. theol. de probabilitate casuistarum; Natalis Alexander, Theol. dogm. et mor. sec. ordinem catech. Conc. Trid. [91] Paris 1703; Billuart † 1757, Summa S. Thomae hodiernis academiarum moribus accommodata, 19 tom. Leodii 1747-59, new edition by Palmé at Paris in 8 vol.; and further still Fr. de Sylvestris, Joh. Viguerius, Joh. Gonsalez, Martin Ledesma, Joh. Vincentius, Balt. Navarretus, Raphael Ripa, Franz and Dominicus Perez, Gazzaniga † 1799, Praelect. theol. Bononiae 1790 e. a. To the Dominicans the Carmelites attach themselves, of whom especially famous is Salmanticensis collegii Carmelitarum discalceatorum cursus theol. in D. Thomam, 10 vol. Lugd. 1679 sq. But Scotistic theology too still found adherence and defence in the modern period, with Ambrosius Catharinus † 1553, Fr. Lychetus, Comm. in I II III librum Sent. Scoti, Venet. 1589; Frassenius † 1711, Scotus Academicus, 4 tom. Paris 1662-77; Dupasquier † 1718, Summa theol. scotisticae; Barth. Durandus, Clypeus Scoticae doctrinae; Thomas van Charmes, Theol. universa; and further with Brancatus, Mastrius, Faber † 1630, Bonaventura Bellutus † 1676, Lukas Wadding † 1657, editor of Scotus’ works at Lyon 1639 v. e. a. The Franciscan de Rada, bishop of Trani, † 1608, gave in his above already cited work an overview of the controversies between the Thomists and the Scotists.

Scholastic theology, however, was practiced especially by the Jesuits, who more than any other order have contributed to its revival and flourishing. Methodically and with extraordinary talent they took the Counter-Reformation in hand. As polemicists against the doctrine of the Protestants there appeared among them Possevinus † 1611; Bellarminus † 1621, Disput. de controv. christ. fidei adv. hujus temporis haereticos, Ingolstadt 1581. Gretser, Opera omnia in 17 tomi, Regensburg 1734 sq. Becanus, Manuale controversiarum. The most famous theologians from the order of the Jesuits are Petrus Canisius † 1597, Summa doctrinae et institutionis christ. 1554, published 400 times in 130 years, and a smaller catechism: Institutiones christ. pietatis 1566. Franc. Toletus † 1596, In Summam S. Thomae tom. 4, reissued at Rome 1869, Joh. Maldonatus, pupil of Toletus and Soto at Salamanca † 1583, famous exegete, and writer of many dogm. treatises, de sacramentis, de libero arbitrio, de gratia etc. Leonh. Lessius prof. at Leuven † 1623, Disput. de gratia, decretis divinis, libertate arbitrii et praescientia Dei conditionata Antw. 1610. [92] De perfectionibus divinis libri 14, Antw. 1620. Theologia 1651 etc. Lud. Molina prof. at Evora, later at Madrid † 1600, Liberi arbitrii cum gratiae donis, divina praescientia, provid. praedest. et reprob. concordia 1588, de justitia et jure, and commentary on the first part of Thomas. Greg. de Valentia prof. at Dillingen, Ingolstadt, Rome † 1603, Analysis fidei cathol. 1585. Theol. Comment. in Summam S. Thomae Tomi IV 1602. Mart. Becanus, prof. at Mainz † 1624. Manuale controv. and Theol. scholastica, 3 partes 1612-’22. Roderich Arriaga, prof. in Valladolid, Salamanca, Prague † 1667, Disputationes theol. 8 tomi 1643 sq. Franz. Suarez † 1617, Commentaria et disputationes in Thomam, tomi V, and many treatises de gratia etc.; a short excerpt from his theology is Theologiae R. P. Fr. Suarez S. J., Summa seu Compendium auctore T. Noel S. J. Tomi II Paris, Migne 1858. Gabr. Vasquez † 1604, Comm. in Summam S. Thomae, Ingolstadt 7 vol. 1609 sq.; Didacus Ruyz de Montoya † 1632, Comment. on various loci of Thomas, Theol. scholastica 1630. Clavis Theol. 1634; Antoine, Theologia universa speculativa et dogmatica, Paris 1713; Dion. Petavius † 1652, De theol. dogmatibus, 5 tomi, unfinished Paris 1644; and further still Melch. de Castro, Lusitanus, Zunniga, Tannez, Hurtado, Ripalda † 1648, Mendoza, Lugo † 1660, Arriago, Gotti † 1742, Zaccaria † 1795 e. a. Separate mention is still deserved by the Theologia Wirceburgensis, dogm. polem. schol. et mor. 14 vol. Wirceb. 1766-1771, new ed. in 10 vol. Paris 1880, written by the Würzburg professors S. J.

The Jesuits generally followed Thomas, but as a consequence of their Pelagianism they departed from him in the doctrine of sin, free will, and grace. This became the cause of a protracted struggle. It began with Bajus, prof. at Louvain † 1589, who set forth the doctrine of Augustine concerning sin and the unfreedom of the will and also rejected the immaculate conception of Mary. Already in 1560 various theses of Bajus were rejected by the Sorbonne, and Pope Pius V condemned 79 propositions of Bajus in the bull Ex omnibus afflictionibus 1567. Bajus recanted. But with that the struggle was not over. It flared up again in 1588 through the work of Molina, Liberi arbitrii cum gratiae donis ... concordia. The Thomists, mostly Dominicans, attacked this work, especially through one of their [93] most famous representatives, Bannez † 1604, who taught a physical predetermination. Thomists (Bannez, Sylvester, Alvarez, Lesmos, Reginaldi, etc.), respectively Augustinians (Noris † 1704, Laur. Berti † 1766, Bertieri) and Jesuits, Molinists or Congruists (Bellarminus) stood opposed to one another for years. A multitude of polemical writings on sin, free will, grace saw the light, Walch, Bibl. theol. sel. I 179 sq. The commission, appointed in Rome, was dissolved in 1607 without taking a decision; and the pope said that he would later render a judgment and that so long the one party might not anathematize the other. In 1640, when the work Augustinus of Cornelius Jansen, bishop of Ypres, appeared, the spark was again thrown into the powder. The struggle continued into the 18th century. The men of Port Royal stood on the side of Jansenius, Arnauld † 1694, Pascal † 1662, Nicole † 1695, Sacy † 1684, Tillemont † 1698, Quesnell † 1719. But learning and eloquence were of no avail. In various bulls 1653, 1656, 1664, 1705 and 1713 Jansenism, and in it Augustine, and even Paul, were condemned, and later the bull Unigenitus of 1713 was confirmed still more than once. And just as in dogmaticis Pelagianism triumphed, so in ethicis Probabilism and in ecclesiasticis Curialism or the Papal system achieved the victory.

16. But at the beginning of the 17th century the flourishing period of neo-scholasticism was past. Throughout Europe the rationalistic spirit arose. The philosophy of Bacon and Descartes displaced that of Aristotle. Even theologians, who accepted the scholastic dogmas, thought that another method was necessary; such as Bossuet † 1704, the famous defender of the Gallican system and combatant of the Protestants, Exposition de la doctrine de l’église cath. sur les matières de controverse 1671, Histoire des variations des églises protest. 2 vol. Paris, 1688. Fénélon † 1715, Thomassinus † 1695, Dogmata theol. The historical and critical studies, which were practised especially in France, pushed theology proper back. Many learned Maurists and Oratorians even fell into unbelief. In the schools scholasticism did indeed remain dominant for a long time, down into the 18th century. The different directions of Thomists, e.g. Peri, Quaest. theol. 5 vol. 1719-32, Scotists, e.g. Krisper, Theol. [94] scolae scotisticae, 4 Tom. 1728-48, Molinists, e.g. Anton Erber, Theol. specul. tractatus octo 1787, and Augustinians, e.g. Amort, Theol. eclectica moralis et scholastica, 23 tomi, Augsburg, 1752 sq. also continued alongside one another. But scholasticism nevertheless withdrew more and more into the schools. Other deistic, naturalistic parties arise, gain the upper hand, and exercise influence on Roman theology. Scholastic philosophy was set aside in France by Descartes, in Germany by Leibniz-Wolff. In Austria in 1752 the Peripatetic doctrine was forbidden and in 1759 the direction of the theol. and philos. studies was taken away from the Jesuits. The order was abolished in 1773 by Clement XIV. The Gallican system was defended in 1763 by Nic. van Hontheim, auxiliary bishop of Trier, in a work de statu ecclesiae et legitima potestate Romani Pontificis and was introduced by Joseph II in 1781 as canon law. The confessional differences were forgotten; in place of the struggle against the Protestants comes that against freethinkers, unbelievers, etc. with Klüpfel, Fahrman, Stattler, Storchenau, Burkhauser. Theology comes wholly under the influence of the changing philosophy. The Aufklärung had its representative in Ad. Weishaupt, prof. at Ingolstad, founder of the order of the Illuminati. Kant’s influence is noticeable with Ildefons Schwarz, Peutinger, Zimmer. Jacobi’s philosophy found adherents with J. Salat and Cajetan Weiller. Thanner stood under the influence of Schelling. The principal theologian who in the 18th century remained steadfast against all errors was Alphonsus of Liguori † 1787, included by Pius IX in 1871 among the doctores ecclesiae.

17. Also in this 19th century rationalism at first continued to prevail in many Roman circles. In Germany there was a large party which wished to bring the constitution and doctrine of the Roman church into agreement with the demands of the newer time, Dalberg † 1817, Wessenberg † 1860, Werkmeister and others, Hermes, prof. at Bonn † 1831, Einleitung in die Christkath. Theologie 1819, ’29, Christkath. Dogm. 1834, ’36 attempted to make revelation, authority rest on reasonable grounds, and gave to reason in the assessment of what revelation is the same rights as the Wolffian philosophy had given. At first [95] Hermes had many adherents, Achterfeldt, who published his dogmatics, Braun, von Droste-Hülfshof, prof. in law at Bonn, Spiegel, archbishop of Cologne; but when Pope Gregory XVI on 26 Sept. 1835 had condemned Hermesianism, his influence declined. Anton Günther † 1863 in Vienna, Vorschule zur specul. Theol. 1828. Peregrius Gastmahl 1830 etc. associated himself with Hegel’s proposition that philosophy and speculative theology are actually one. There is no twofold truth and certainty. But believing is the beginning and presupposition of all knowing, and all faith, also in revelation, can pass over into knowing and be raised to evidence. Günther also had many adherents, Pabst, Merten, Veith, Gaugauf, Baltzer, Knoodt; but he was condemned in 1857. Franz von Baader † 1841, Vorlesungen über specul. Dogmatik, Sämmtliche schriften, Leipzig 1850-57 in 15 parts, under the influence of Böhme and Schelling, sought salvation not in return, but in new development of the old, in renewal of the dogmata, and wished by a theosophical way to raise believing to knowing. His adherents were Schaden, Lutterbek, Hoffmann, Hamberger, Sengler, Schlüter, but Baader was censured on account of his combating of the primacy. J. Frohschammer, Einleitung in die Philosophie und Grundriss der Metaphysik 1858 etc. rejected the scholastic and the idealistic philosophy, and attempted to build up metaphysics, theology not on abstract reason but on the concrete, general, historical fact of the consciousness of God in humanity. Theology and philosophy thus coincide for him in content; they differ only in method; the natural and the supernatural are not to be strictly separated. Pius IX condemned this philosophy in a letter to the archbishop at Munich 11 Dec. 1862. His works were placed on the index, he himself suspended in 1863. Frohschammer, however, did not submit and in numerous writings continued to fight for the freedom of science and against the claims of the pope. Thus by Rome on the one hand the independence of science was combated, but on the other hand it was nevertheless also again recognized in its relative freedom. After the revolution traditionalism arose in France, namely the doctrine that the higher metaphysical truths are not to be found by reason, but are obtained only from revelation, which from the first man onward has been propagated in humanity by tradition and is preserved in language. This theory was defended with talent by de Bonald, Recherches philos. sur les premiers objets des connaissances morales, Paris 1817, Lamennais, Essai sur l’indifférence en matière de religion, Paris 1817, and Bautain, de l’enseignement de la philos. en France au 19e siècle, 1833, Philos. du Christianisme, 1835. But it could find no favor at Rome. Bautain in 1840 signed six theses that were presented to him, and retracted his doctrine. And likewise the ontologism of Gerdil † 1802, Gioberti † 1852, Rosmini † 1855, Gratry † 1872, Ubaghs and others was rejected, which went back to the idealism of Malebranche and derived all higher truth from the immediate intuition of God and of the ideas.

All these condemnations prove that Rome, after the rationalism of the previous century, became more and more conscious of itself and came to awakening. After the revolution there was also a revival of the Roman church and theology. Romanticism benefited Rome and made many converts, Winckelmann, Stolberg, Schlegel, Ad. Müller, Z. Werner, Schlosser, Haller etc. In France there came a reaction against the revolution and unbelief through Chateaubriand, Génie du christianisme, Joseph de Maistre, † 1821, Bonald, Lamennais. Puseyism or Tractarianism, which began under Pusey and Newman in 1833 at Oxford, led many to the Roman church and strengthened the high-church, ritualizing and Romanizing direction in the episcop. church. The believing theology that arose in Germany at first in many points attached itself to Schleiermacher. His doctrine of Scripture, regeneration, justification, church contained many elements that the Roman Catholics could employ to their advantage. And that indeed happened with talent and zeal through Görres, Baader, Phillips, Döllinger in Munich; Klee in Bonn; Möhler, Hirscher, Drey in Munich and Tübingen; Staudenmaier and Kuhn in Giessen etc. The men of this direction were indeed not entirely after the heart of Rome and Jesuitism; they all still strove for mediation, they sought a reconciliation of believing and knowing, they attempted by the speculative method to prove the dogmas and were all too liberal toward the Protestants and now and then made important concessions. But they had excellent spokesmen, and contributed much to the revival of Roman theology. [97]

But nevertheless, in the long run this conciliatory and mediating direction did not satisfy. Gradually the neo-scholastic direction arose. In 1814 the Jesuit order was restored, and its influence on the Papacy increased more and more; its power extended in all countries. The “freedom of science” was opposed by it with all might. All the above-mentioned condemnations resulted in the famous encyclical of 8 Dec. 1864, and in the Vaticanum of 1870, in which the infallibility of the Pope was pronounced. This neo-scholastic direction was in Italy especially advocated by the philosopher Sanseverino, Philosophia christiana, 7 vol. ed. nov. Neap. 1878 and by the theologian J. Perrone, Praelectiones theologiae, 9 vol. 1838-43; in Germany by J. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit, 5 Th. 2e Aufl., Münster 1867 and Philos. der Vorzeit, 2 Th., Innsbr. 1878 and A. Stöckl in various philosophical works. The present Pope set the seal upon it on 4 Aug. 1879, by recommending in his encyclical Aeterni Patris the study of Thomas. And since then there has been a mighty and general striving, to restore the authority of Thomas in every field of science. Political and legal doctrine, psychology and ethics, theology and philosophy are studied in his spirit. In that same spirit dogmatics was treated by Franzelin, Scheeben, Heinrich, Bautz, etc.; in this country by G. M. Jansen, prof. at Rijsenburg, Praelect. theol. fundam. Ultraj. 1875-76, Theol. dogm. spec. 1877-79. See further literature with Kihn, Enc. u. Meth. der Theol., Freiburg 1892 S. 412 f.

D. The Dogmatics in the Lutheran Church.

18. For the history of Lutheran dogmatics the following can serve as aids: Walch, Bibl. theol. selecta I 35 sq. Pfaff, Introductio in historiam theol. litterariam 1724 p. 204 sq. G. Frank, Gesch. der prot. Theol., 3 Theile 1862-75. Dorner, Gesch. d. prot. Th. 1867. Gass, Gesch. der prot. Dogm., 4 Theile 1854-67. Tholuck, Das kirchl. Leben im 17 Jahrh. 1861-2. Id. Das akad. Leben des 17 Jahrh. 1853-4, together forming the Vorgesch. des Ration. Id. Gesch. des Ration., Ier Theil, 1865. Id. Der Geist der luth. Theologen Wittenbergs im 17 Jahrh. 1852. Kahnis, Der innere Gang des deutschen Protest., [98] 2 Th., Leipzig 1874. Ritschl, Gesch. des Pietismus, 3 Th. 1880-6. Harnack, Dogmengesch. III 691 f. Zöckler, Handbuch der theol. Wiss., Supplement 144 f. Luther was not a systematic nature; he did not leave behind a dogmatics. All the more was he an original, a creative spirit. He rediscovered the Christianity of Paul and Augustine, understood the Gospel again as a glorious message of grace and of forgiveness, and restored religion within religion. Thereby he became fruitful for the whole of theology, and for the entire dogmatics; even the old dogmas were indeed taken up by him but animated with a new religious life, Th. Harnack, Luthers Theologie, 2 Th., Erlangen 1862-66. J. Köstlin, Luthers Theologie, 2e Ausg., Stuttgart 1883. Lommatzsch, Luthers Lehre vom eth. relig. Standp., Berlin 1879. Before the Lutheran Reformation had a confession, it already had a dogmatics in Melanchthon’s Loci 1521, reissued by Augusti 1821, Plitt 1864, Bindseil in Corpus Reform. XXI p. 62. This work, arising from an exposition of the Epistle to the Romans, was practical, simple, soteriological, without any scholasticism, actually much more a confession than a dogmatics. In this work the German Reformation for a time found its unity. But already in 1526 Melanchthon retreated somewhat from the confession of strict predestination, and soon he also began on other points, especially in the matter of the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper, to deviate from Luther. This dissensus from Luther first comes out clearly in the new editions of the Loci of 1535 and 1543, then in the alteration of the Augustana 1540 and 1542, and finally in the Leipziger Interim and the adiaphoristic conflict caused thereby. Now two parties came to stand over against one another. On the one side the adherents of Melanchthon, the Philippists, especially at the academies at Wittenberg and Leipzig, such as G. Major, Paul Eber, Joh. Pfeffinger, Victor Strigel † 1569, whose Loci Theologici arose from lectures on Melanchthon’s Loci and were published by Pezel in 4 parts 1582-5, Christ. Pezel † 1604, author of Argumenta et objectiones de praecipuis articulis doctrinae christ., Neost. 1580-89, Sohnius, Opera. Herb. 1609, and others. Cf. H. Heppe, Dogm. des deutschen Protest. im 16 Jahrh. 3 Bde. Gotha 1857. On the other side stood the Gnesio-Lutherans, [99] especially in Weimar and Jena, such as Nic. von Amsdorf † 1565, Matth. Flacius † 1575, author of the Solida Confutatio et condemnatio praecipuarum sectarum and many other polemical writings, Joh. Wigand † 1587, Joh. Marbach † 1581, Joachim Westphal † 1574, who especially combated Calvin’s doctrine of the Lord’s Supper, Tileman Heshusius † 1588 and others. The many dogmatic disputes that arose in this first period among the Lutheran theologians, about the law with Agricola, about justification with Osiander, about the descent of Christ into hell with Aepinus, about the obedientia activa with Parsimonius, about the adiaphora, synergism, and crypto-Calvinism with Melanchthon c. s., about good works with Major, about original sin with Flacius, finally led to and were settled in the Formula Concordiae of 1580, Frank, Die Theologie der Konkordienformel, 2 Th., Erl. Deichert 1858-61. It was the work especially of Jakob Andreae † 1590 and of Mart. Chemnitz † 1586, the foremost Lutheran theologian in this century, author of the Examen Concilii Tridentini, 4 tomi 1565-73, reissued by Preuss 1861, of a treatise de duabus naturis in Christo, etc. 1571, enlarged 1578, and of Loci Theol., published after his death by Leyser in 1592.

19. When the Lutheran dogma was thus ready, it was treated and developed in the 17th century in a scholastic manner. Heerbrand † 1600, Compendium theologiae 1573, significantly enlarged 1578, and Hafenreffer, Loci Theologici certa methodo ac ratione in libros tres tributi 1603 thereby already made a beginning. The scholastic treatment is then continued by Leonhard Hutter † 1616, Compendium locorum theol. ex Scriptura sacra et libro Concordiae collectum 1610, Joh. Gerhard † 1637, Loci Communes theologici, 9 tomi 1610-22, best edition of Cotta 1762-87, reprinted Berlin-Leipzig 1864-75, and reaches its high point in Dannhauer † 1666, Hodosophia christiana, Hülsemann † 1635 Breviarium theologiae 1640, Calovius † 1686 Systema loc. theol. 1655-77, Quenstedt † 1688 Theologia didact-polem. 1685, Hollaz † 1713 Examen theol. acroamaticum 1707, König † 1664 Theol. positiva acroamatica 1664. The strength of this dogmatics lay in its objectivity. The dogmata lie ready, the subject submits to them without criticism; they [100] are only worked out and applied exegetically, in the history of dogma, polemically, scholastically, and practically. But already in the 17th century there arose a reaction against this method. Philippism had not been overcome by the Formula Concordiae; it continued to keep its adherents, especially in Altdorf and Helmstadt. Georg Calixtus, prof. at Helmstadt † 1656, through his study of Aristotle, through his acquaintance with Roman and Reformed theologians, and through his aversion to scholastic orthodoxy, came to a moderate, irenic theology. In his works de praecipuis religionis christianae capitibus 1613, epitome theologiae 1619, de immortalitate animae et resurr. mort. 1627 he advocated a sharper separation of philosophy and theology, and he went back to the original Christianity of the first four centuries, in order to seek in what is common to all Christian confessions a union of Luth. Reformed and Roman Catholics.

20. Calixtus naturally encountered much opposition with his syncretism. But the century of objectivity had passed. In the 18th century the subject asserts itself; it resumes its rights and rises in revolt against the power of the objective. In Pietism from 1700 to 1730, subjective piety becomes the point of departure, and the center of gravity is shifted from the object to the subject. Spener, the father of Pietism 1635-1705, exercised, through his person and through his works, e.g. Pia desideria 1678, Allgemeine Gottesgelahrtheit aller gläubigen Christen und rechtschaffenen Theologen 1680, Tabulae Catecheticae 1683, Theolog. Bedenken 1712 etc., tremendous influence. In Halle the principal pietists were Francke † 1727, Breithaupt † 1732 Instit. theol. 1695. Freylinghausen † 1739 Grundlegung der Theologie 1703. Joachim Lange † 1744 Antibarbarus orthodoxiae 1709. Mosaisches Licht u. Recht, Rambach † 1735, Der wohlinformirte Katechet 1722. In Wurtemberg, with Hedinger † 1704, Bengel † 1752, Oetinger † 1782, Pietism allied itself with a biblical realism and with apocalyptic expectations. Naturally orthodoxy, e.g. through the mouth of Löscher in Dresden † 1749, acted very hostilely against this Pietism. But the time for orthodoxy was past. In the years 1730-60, in Buddeus † 1729 Instit. theol. dogm. et mor., Weismann † 1760, Crusius † 1775, J. G. Walch Einleitung in die dogm. Gottesgelahrheit [101] 1749 and his son Ch. W. F. Walch Breviarium theol. dogm. 1775, it enters into an alliance with Pietism and passes over into an affective-pious direction, which lays emphasis on the practice of faith, is averse to scholastic subtlety, is moderate in polemics, and above all devotes its energies to learned historical investigations. Related to Pietism is Herrnhutism, which likewise was a reaction of feeling against intellectual orthodoxy. The father of von Zinzendorf was a Spenerian. But while Pietism wants to lead to conversion through a Busskampf, Herrnhutism tries to achieve this through the preaching of the dear Savior. It wants to know of no law, but only of Gospel. Grace here so wholly pushes nature aside that Jesus even replaces the Father; Jesus is the Creator, the Ruler, the Father, the Jehova of the O. Test. And his person and suffering were, by Zinzendorf, under Roman influence, conceived so pathologically that the affinity of mysticism and sensuality, especially in the first romantic period, 1743-1750, came very clearly to light. Parallel with Pietism runs Rationalism. Both have, each in its own way, undermined the authority of orthodoxy; both shift the center of gravity into the subject. Rationalism now arose through the philosophy of Cartesius, Spinoza, Leibniz † 1716 and Wolff † 1754. They made clarity, mathematical clarity, the norm of truth. Carpovius, prof. in the mathesis at Weimar, attempted in his Oeconomia salutis N. T. seu theologia revelata, dogmatica methodo scientifica adornata 1737-65, to demonstrate church doctrine according to mathematical method. Canz, Reusch, Schubert, Reinbeck, especially S. J. Baumgarten Halle † 1757, Evangel. Glaubenslehre, published by Semler 1759-60, and J. L. von Mosheim at Göttingen † 1755 belong to this Wolffian direction. In the main these men were still orthodox, but the religious interest of truth is no longer felt; the doctrine of faith becomes an object of historical erudition and intellectual demonstration. No wonder that among other Wolffians, such as Töllner, Syst. der dogm. Theol., Heilmann, Compendium theol. dogm. 1761, J. P. Miller, Instit. theol. dogm. 1767, Seiler, Theol. dogm. polem. 1774, an already freer attitude toward church doctrine is adopted. [102]

21. If this rationalistic direction is then from without still nourished and strengthened by English Deism and French unbelief, after 1760 in Germany there arises the Aufklärung, which seeks to bring the sound understanding of the individual man to dominion over all objective truth. Everywhere the positive, the traditional, the historically formed must yield to the rational, the clear-intelligible. Wolff c. s. had still found revelation reasonable. But the Aufklärung was deistic and rationalistic. Frederick the Great was its king, Berlin its center, the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliotheek 1765-1805 its organ. Dogmatics was worked out in this rationalistic spirit by W. A. Teller, Lehrbuch des christl. Glaubens 1764. Religion der Vollkommneren 1792. Henke, Lineamenta instit. fidei christ. 1793. Eckermann, Compend. theol. 1791 and especially by Wegscheider, Instit. theol. christ. dogm. 1815, 8e Aufl. 1844. Against this Rationalism orthodoxy assumed the weakened form of Supranaturalism. It no longer dared to take its position positively and thetically in faith, but had with its opponents the foundation of reason in common; only it still sought from there to come to revelation, whose necessity, possibility, and reality it defended. The content of revelation, however, gradually shrank in with it; the dogmata are as much as possible freed from everything offensive and by so-called biblical representation made ready-made for reason. On this standpoint placed themselves Doederlein, Instit. theol. 1780. Morus, Epitome Theol. christ. 1789. Knapp, Vorles. über die christ. Glaub. 1827, especially Reinhard, Vorles. über die Dogmatik 1801. Storr, Doctrinae christ. pars theoret. 1793. e. a. While a reconciliation of Rat. and Supran. was attempted by Tzschirner, von Ammon, Schott, and especially by Bretschneider, Dogm. der ev. luth. Kirche 1814.

22. For Lutheran dogmatics in the 19th century, besides the works cited above, the following come into consideration: Mücke, Die Dogm. des 19 Jahrh. Gotha 1857. E. Lichtenberger, Histoire des idées relig. en Allemagne. Paris, Fischbacher. Thilo, Die Wissenschaftlickkeit der modernen spekul. Theol. in ihren Principien beleuchtet, Leipz. 1851. O. Flügel, Die spekulative Theol. [103] der Gegenwart, 2e Aufl. Cöthen 1888. Hagenbach, Ueber die sogenannte Vermittelungstheologie 1858. Carl Schwarz, Gesch. der neueren Theol., 1857, Dutch by Krabbe. Hartmann, Die Krisis des Christ. in der mod. Theol., Berlin 1880. O. Pfleiderer, Die Entw. der prot. Theol. in Deutschland seit Kant und in Gross-Britt. seit 1825. Freiburg 1891. Frank, Gesch. u. Krit. der neueren Theol. u. s. w. edited by P. Schaarschmidt. Erl. Deichert, 1894. Kattenbusch, von Schleiermacher zu Ritschl. Giessen 1892. For Scandinavia: Presbyt. and Ref. Rev. Oct. 1893. The peculiarity of Lutheran dogmatics in this century consists in the fact that it stands almost entirely under the influence of philosophy. In the previous century it had, through Rationalism, almost entirely lost its principle, method, content. It had become a compendium of rational thoughts about God, virtue, and immortality. Kant was the first who, through his sharp critique of pure reason, wholly undermined this rational foundation of dogmatics. His critique was discouraging, even destructive, for the rationalism and eudaemonism of the Aufklärung. But by the practical Vernunft he attempts to regain what he lost through the pure Vernunft. The categorical imperative, the moral consciousness, gives us the right to postulate the existence of God, freedom, and immortality. Dogmatics is built up on morality, religion becomes a means for virtue, God an emergency aid for man. The content of religion and dogmatics, developed by Kant in his Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft 1793, is purely rationalistic; Kant still stands wholly in the 18th century, the historical, positive has no value for him, he isolates man from all influences, only the autonomous Vernunftreligion is the true religion. But through his critique of reason, through his appeal to the moral consciousness, through his strict conception of morality, which even made him speak of the radikal Böse in man and of the necessity of an Art Widergeburt, he has been of great influence on theology. Not only the moral destination of man, but also the impotence of reason to reach the supersensible, became an argument for the necessity of revelation, of faith and authority. And in this Kantian spirit dogmatics was worked on by Tieftrunk, Dilucidationes ad theoreticam [104] religionis christ. partem 1793. Stäudlin, J. E. C. Schmidt, Ammon and others.

23. Another reaction against the Aufklärung came from the side of feeling. Sentimentality was a character trait of the second half of the 18th century. Just as in England Shaftesbury came forward against Hume, in France Rousseau against Voltaire, so also in Germany feeling, with men such as Hamann, Claudius, Lavater, Stilling, Herder, Jacobi, asserted its rights over against cold Rationalism. They all proceed from immediate experience, from the power and intimacy of the mind; that is the deepest essence, the human in man; upon that religion rests, from that faith springs, here man perceives the divine. And from here he sees and discovers the divine around him in nature, in history, above all in Christ, the most human of all men. The content of faith differed among these men, all the more because they were averse to a system; but the ground of faith is with all the same. Feeling, faith, Vernunft, inspiration, Begeisterung, experience, or whatever one may call it, is with all foundation and norm of truth. Jacobi, over against the advancing criticism, pointed to the immediate sense, in which another, higher objectivity dawned for man. He thus arrived at a consistent dualism of head and heart, of philosophy and faith, of sensible and spiritual world. In dogmatics this dualism was applied by de Wette, Bibl. Dogmatik, 3e Aufl. 1831, Dogm. der prot. Kirche, 3e Aufl. 1840, Ueber Religion u. Theol. 2e Aufl. 1821. Das Wezen des christ. Glaubens vom Standpunkt des Glaubens 1840, and after him by Hase, Evang. Dogm. 1826, 6e Aufl. 1870. Common to all is the separation of believing and knowing, of aesthetic (ethical, religious) and intellectual (empirical) view of the world, of ideal and sensible world. The truth, demanded by religious feeling or consciousness, is inviolable for the intellect; it belongs to another, unobservable world.

24. Closely related to this direction is the theology of Schleiermacher. In his Reden über die Religion 1799 and the Monologen 1800 he stands wholly under the influence of romanticism. Religion [105] is feeling, feeling for the universe, sense for the infinite, the direction of the mind toward the eternal, just like Spinoza’s cognitio Dei intuitiva. Schleiermacher thus also takes his standpoint in the subject, but not in intellect or will, but in feeling. God is for him the unity of the world, no object of thought, for thought always moves in oppositions, but only to be enjoyed in feeling. And that enjoyment of God in feeling is religion. But with that Schleiermacher now at once connects the idea of community. From the essence of religion springs the longing for community, for exchange of what has been enjoyed. The religions differ, according as the infinite determines the feeling differently and forms the community differently. In his Glaubenslehre the philosophical fundamental thoughts are the same, but here the feeling is more closely defined as absolute dependence, God conceived as absolute causality, and Christianity defined as an ethical religion, in which everything stands in relation to redemption through Christ. Dogmas thus are and remain descriptions of subjective states of mind, but yet of such as are determined by the Christian community, and thus by the person of Christ. Through these three ideas, of immediate self-consciousness as source of religion, of the community as necessary form of existence of religion, and of the person of Christ as center of Christianity, Schleiermacher has become of incalculable influence. The whole of theology after him is dependent on him; his dogmatics has been taken over by no one, and yet he has made his influence felt on all directions, liberal, mediating, confessional, and in all churches, Roman, Luth. and Reformed. The most closely related to him are the so-called Vermittelungstheologen, Nitzsch, Twesten, Neander, J. Müller, Rothe, Dorner, Martensen, Schenkel etc. The distinctive and common feature of all these men is the subjective point of departure. They all proceed not from an external authority but from the mind, from religious consciousness. They accept the truth first as content of subjective Christian experience. But they do not stop there; they want to go beyond Schleiermacher, and to that end they connect Schleiermacher’s subjective religious point of departure with Hegelian speculation. The agnostic elements in Schleiermacher, which he had in common with Kant, [106] were exchanged for the Hegelian doctrine of the knowability of the Absolute. The truth, first accepted as content of religious experience, then had to be comprehended on the path of speculation as necessary for thought and legitimized before the tribunal of philosophy. Thus faith and science, the natural and the positive, church and culture, authority of Scripture and criticism, ancient and modern worldview would be reconciled and satisfied with one another.

25. This, incidentally, had also been Hegel’s aim. Hegel is the most consistent idealist; the Cartesian point of departure here comes to its final consequences. Thinking produces being; all that is, is therefore logical, rational. But he connects this thought with that of becoming, of evolution. The realization of the thought in being takes place gradually, from stage to stage. In man this thinking first comes to consciousness. But at the lowest stage, as natural, finite spirit, man feels himself separated from God. In religion, especially in the Christian, however, he sees that separation abolished; God and man are one. This unity of God and man is the essence of all religion, but in religion it is not expressed adequately; there it is shrouded in forms of representation and feeling. Only in philosophy does the idea come to its adequate concept; it is absolute knowing, the knowing of humanity of God, the knowing of God of himself. According to these philosophical thoughts Hegel sought to explain all Christian dogmas, trinity, incarnation, reconciliation, etc. Many believed in the Hegelian reconciliation of theology and philosophy; the so-called right wing, Marheinecke, Daub, Göschel, Rosenkranz, worked over the dogmas in his spirit and sought to unite Hegelian speculation and orthodox theology. But gradually it became public what danger lay hidden in the Hegelian philosophy for the Christian dogmas. Feuerbach, Strauss, Vatke, Bruno Bauer drew the consequences and gave up the representation, which is the garment of religion, in order to retain only the abstract concept. Strauss saw in the Gospel narratives unconscious symbolic condensations of the ideal truth, that the Infinite pours itself out into the finite, yet not in a single man but in humanity; this is the [107] true son of God, the ideal Christ. In his Glaubenslehre 1840 he attempts to show that the history of each dogma is at the same time its critique and dissolution. Religion and philosophy differ in form, but therefore also in content; philosophy replaces religion. The neo-Hegelians, Biedermann, Pfleiderer, have indeed become more cautious, but have nevertheless taken over from Hegel that thinking stands above religious consciousness and thus has as its task to strip religious representation of its temporal, sensuous form, to present it in its ideal core, and to bring it into agreement with our entire world-view.

26. While Hegel’s philosophy thus led to the rejection of Christianity, it became known, especially since 1830, that Schelling had gradually abandoned the system of identity and was now developing a positive philosophy, in which not necessity but freedom prevailed and in which will and deed took the place of the logical process. Like Hamann, Lavater, etc. in the previous century, Schelling gradually came to the conviction that there is yet another, deeper being and life than that of the logical understanding, namely that of the will, of the deed, of freedom. But all life is becoming, an interaction of opposites. Thus it is in God, and thus it is in the world. In God there is first the dark ground of nature, then the understanding, and out of both the will is born. In the world there is first chaos, then spirit, thereafter the cosmos. And thus in religion there is first the natural impulse in Paganism, then the Word or the Light in Christ, and finally the being of God in all. Under the influence of Böhme and Oetinger, Schelling connected with this all manner of theosophical speculations. Theosophy always occupies itself with two problems, with the transition between God and world and between soul and body. The first problem is solved by this, that the ground of the world is sought in the nature of God, and that the theogony, the trinitarian process in God, is more or less identified or at least paralleled with the cosmogony. God himself first comes to full unfolding of his essence in and through the world-process. The second problem is solved in the same way by the idea of Geistleiblichkeit. The spiritual, God, the soul, [108] is not in the strict sense incorporeal, indeed not material, but übermateriell, and thus the spirit in its turn has the task of spiritualizing and of making spiritual-corporeal the body, the world, whose coarse materiality is a consequence of sin. This theosophical speculation of Schelling found acceptance in theology: Baader, Görres, Windischmann, J. F. von Meyer, Steffens, Wagner, Stahl, Rothe, Hamberger, Fr. Hoffmann, Keerl, Osiander, Lange, Delizsch, Bähr, Kurtz, Splittgerber, have all, to a greater or lesser degree, undergone his influence.

27. It was natural, of course, that resistance arose from the side of ecclesiastical orthodoxy against this manifold intermingling of theology and philosophy. Upon the theology of mediation there had to follow one of separation. The study of the confession, the historical dogmatics of de Wette, Bretschneider, Hase, Schmid, Schneckenburger, benefited the confessional consciousness. Altlutheraner such as Guericke and Rudelbach, Neolutheranen such as Harms, Hengstenberg, Keil, Philippi, Vilmar, Kliefoth, Höfling, Thomasius, Hofmann, men of the positive Union such as Kahnis, Luthardt, Zöckler, H. Schmidt, Frank, Grau, etc., labored at the restoration of the old Lutheran theology. Yet they too were children of their time. Pietism continued to have an effect in men such as Hengstenberg and Tholuck. Vilmar, Löhe, Münchmeyer e. a. were, in their conception of church, sacrament, and office, not free from Roman exaggeration; the South German theologians in Erlangen, Thomasius, Hofmann, and also the present positive theologians stand more freely over against the confession and deviate in important points, Christology, satisfaction, Scripture, from the old-Lutheran dogmatics. Even so orthodox a Lutheran as Philippi, like Hofmann and Frank, proceeds from the subjective consciousness of faith and has thus borrowed his point of departure from Schleiermacher. Alongside these confessional theologians stand the Biblical theologians, among whom Beck is the foremost, who want to build up the dogmatic system neither from the believing consciousness nor also from the confession but only from Scripture. But Beck conceived that Scripture in the sense of that mystical theosophy which since Oetinger and Michael Hahn was practiced in Swabia, as a system of heavenly truths, which were an imprint of heavenly powers and implanted these through [109] the working of the H. Spirit in the soul of man, and thereby often arrived at a rather arbitrary exegesis, and at a system which indeed was deep and original but also was not free to be acquitted of a one-sided asceticism and individualism.

28. From yet another side there arose opposition to the mixing of philosophy and theology. Liebmann, in his work Kant und die Epigonen, Stuttgart 1865, and F. A. Lange, in his Geschichte des Materialismus 1866, gave, in the philosophical domain, the watchword: back to Kant. The speculation of Hegel and Schelling had led to nothing; the understanding had once again to come to awareness of its finitude and limitation, and not presume to have any knowledge of the supersensible. There may, alongside this, remain room for faith, the imagination, but reason is limited to what is sensibly perceptible. This standpoint of Neo-Kantianism was adopted in the dogmatic domain by Lipsius and Ritschl. But with no unimportant difference. Lipsius acknowledges, Ritschl denies, the mystical element in religion. Lipsius considers religion a proper, independent power; Ritschl allows it to be absorbed almost entirely into the ethical. Lipsius considers religion in the first place a matter of the individual; Ritschl, of the community. Lipsius in any case still attempts to bring the religious representations into agreement with the results of science; Ritschl separates theology and science entirely and completely. For Lipsius the grace of God in Christ is, for Ritschl the Kingdom of God founded by Christ is, the main content of revelation, etc. But both nevertheless align themselves with Kant’s aversion to metaphysics, with his doctrine of the limitation of human cognitive capacity. Therefore Ritschl wants a complete separation of metaphysics (philosophy, science) and religion (theology). Religion and theology do not pronounce judgments of being but judgments of value. It says nothing about the unknowable essence of things but only expresses the value and significance that they have for us. By such a separation Ritschl attempts to assure for religion and theology a proper place of their own, unassailable for science. Religion does not rest on science, but is grounded on a principle of its own, on the moral nature of man. It has a content of its own, viz. not judgments of being but judgments of value, i.e. purely relig.-ethical statements. It has a goal of its own, viz. [110] to make man, in an ethical sense, independent of the world. Ritschl’s theology now has great influence, not only in but also far outside Germany. Various causes explain its rise. The apparent reconciliation of believing and knowing, the religious-ethical conception of religion, the connection with the revelation of God in Christ, with Holy Scripture and with the theology of Luther and Melanchton, the rejection of all theol. naturalis and scholastic dogmatics, etc., have procured for this theology a sudden diffusion and an extraordinary rise. A host of men, Herrmann, Kaftan, Häring, Harnack, Schürer, Gottschick, Kattenbusch, Stade, Wendt, Schultz, Lobstein, etc., have joined it, and apply its principles to the whole field of theol. science. Yet the Ritschlian doctrine of the cognitive capacity, the complete separation of theology and metaphysics, the moralistic conception of religion, the restriction of religion to judgments of value, etc., are unsatisfactory. This direction too will in the long run be able to satisfy neither the head nor the heart, cf. my essay on the Theol. of Ritschl in the Theol. Stud. of Dr. Daubanton e. a. 1888.

E. Dogmatics in the Reformed Church.

29. With all agreement, even up to and including the confession of predestination, there was nevertheless from the beginning an important difference between the German and the Swiss Reformation. The difference in country and people, where Luther and Zwingli appeared, the difference in origin, upbringing, character, and life-experiences, contributed to causing the two to diverge. It lasted only a short time before it came to light that both reformers were of a different spirit. In 1529 the peace was indeed signed at Marburg, but only on paper. And when Zwingli fell away and Calvin, in spite of his high esteem for Luther and in his rapprochement in the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper, nevertheless in principle chose the side of Zwingli, then the schism between Lutheran and Reformed Protestantism became greater and greater and a fact that could no longer be undone. The historical investigations into the characteristic distinction of both in this century have clearly demonstrated that there [111] lies at its basis a difference of principle. In earlier times one simply summed up the dogmatic differences, without reducing them to a common principle, Hoornbeek, Summa Controv. 1653 p. 618. But Max Goebel, Die relig. Eigenthümlichkeit der luth. u. ref. K. 1837, holl. vert. Gron. Smit 1841, delivered the first attempt at a historical and principled explanation of the distinction between the two. Since then various men have continued that investigation, such as Ullmann, Semisch, Hagenbach, Ebrard, Herzog, Schweizer, Baur, Schneckenburger, Guder, Schenkel, Schoeberlein, Stahl, Hundeshagen, whose works are cited and assessed by Voigt, Fundamentaldogmatik, 1874 S. 397-480, Scholten, Leer der Herv. Kerk, 4e dr. II 309 v. etc. The distinction seems still best represented by the fact that the Reformed is theological, the Lutheran anthropological. The Reformed does not remain standing in history, but climbs up to the idea, to the eternal decree of God; the Lutheran takes his standpoint in the midst of salvation history and has no need to penetrate more deeply into the counsel of God. With the Reformed, therefore, election is the cor ecclesiae; with the Lutherans, justification is the articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae. There the first and principal question is: how does God come to his honor; here, on the other hand: how does man come to salvation. There the struggle is directed especially against paganism, idolatry; here against Judaism, works-righteousness. The Reformed has no rest before he has traced everything backward to the decree of God and has tracked down the διοτι of things and has made everything forward subservient to the honor of God; the Lutheran is satisfied with the ὁτι and enjoys in the salvation of which he partakes through faith. From this difference in principle the dogmatic controversies in the doctrine of the image of God, original sin, the person of Christ, the order of salvation, the sacraments, church government, ethics, etc. can easily be explained.

The history of Reformed dogmatics is much more difficult to describe than that of the Lutheran. The Reformed church is not limited to one country and people, but has expanded in different countries and among different peoples. The Reformed type is not set down in one confession but has found expression in numerous confessions. The dogmatic development, e.g. in the [112] doctrine of election, of justification, of regeneration, of the sacraments, etc., has been much richer and more many-sided in the Reformed church than in the Lutheran. And finally the history of Reformed dogmatics has been practiced much less than that of the other churches; there still lies here a field open for research. The principal works which deal with it are: C. M. Pfaff, Introductio in historiam theol. literariam, Tüb. 1724 p. 258 sq. Walch, Bibl. theol. sel. I 211 sq. B. Pictet, De Christel. Godg., Dutch transl. 1728 part III. A. Ypey, Concise literary history of systematic dogmatics 3 parts, 1793-98 I 200 v. II 55 v. Id. History of the Christian Church in the 18th century, Utrecht, 1797 v. part VII and VIII. A. Schweizer, Die Glaub. der ev. ref. K. 1844 I 1-134. Id. Die Centraldogmen der ref. K. 2 Bde. 1854, ’56. J. H. A. Ebrard, Christl. Dogm. 2e Aufl. 1862 I 44 f. J. H. Scholten, Doctrine of the Reformed Church I 67 v. C. Sepp, The dogmatic instruction in the Netherlands during the 16th and 17th century, 2 parts, Leiden, 1873, ’74. Furthermore the above-cited works of Gasz, Dorner, Frank, Ritschl etc. and the literature to be mentioned later.

30. Reformed dogmatics begins with Zwingli. With him the fundamental ideas are already present, the theological point of departure, the absolute dependence of man, predestination, the human nature of Christ, the spiritual conception of church and sacrament, the ethical and political tendency of the Reformation. But Zwingli still has many gaps in his theology; through his humanism he conceives sin and reconciliation too superficially; through his spiritualism he sets God and man, divina and humana justitia, sign and thing signified in the sacrament etc. abstractly dualistically over against each other; his clarity and lucidity of thought cannot compensate for the lack of depth; and he does not arrive at a somewhat rounded and coherent system. Zwingli only designed the general outlines, within which the different directions in the Reformed churches later moved. Only Calvin’s organizing and systematic spirit gave the Swiss Reformation its delineated doctrine and firm organization. His theology already stood fixed with the first edition of his Institutie in 1536. There is expansion, development but no change. Calvin differs in this from Zwingli, that he banishes all philosophical and [113] humanistic ideas and aligns himself as strictly as possible with Scripture. Further, he better maintains the objectivity of the Christian religion, of the covenant of God, of the person and the work of Christ, of Scripture, church and sacrament and therefore stands more strongly against the Anabaptists. Further, he overcomes both Luther’s antithesis between the spiritual and the worldly and that of Zwingli between flesh and spirit, and is therefore indeed rigoristic but in no respect an ascetic. Finally, he brings unity and system into his thoughts, something which neither Luther nor Zwingli was able to do, and in doing so never forgets the connection with the Christian life. Calvin gradually knew how to win all Switzerland over to himself, also in the matter of the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper (Consensus Tigurinus 1549) and predestination (Consensus Genev. 1552, Tweede Helv. Conf. 1564), Hundeshagen, Die Conflikte des Zwinglianismus, Lutherthums und Calvinismus in der Bernischen Landeskirche von 1532-1558, Bern 1842. Calvin’s Institutie was soon studied everywhere. Those of Bern later appealed to Calvin just as much as those of Geneva, Zurich, Basel and Schaffhausen. Entirely in Calvin’s spirit, dogmatics in Switzerland in this 16th century was treated by Beza, Tractationes theol. 1570, Petrus Martyr Vermiglius, Loci Communes 1576, Musculus, Loci Comm. 1560, 1567 and Aretius, Theol. problemata 1579.

From Switzerland Calvin’s theology spread to France. In 1536 he dedicated his Institutio to Francis I with a preface. He became the soul of the French Reformation. His doctrine was generally accepted; his works were translated into French and disseminated; with him one sought counsel and comfort, and many went to Geneva in order to be trained for the ministry of the word. The principal theologians in France in this century were Chandieu † 1591, who under the pseudonym Sadeel, Zamariel wrote various theological tractates, de verbo Dei, de Christi sacerdotio, de remissione peccatorum etc., Marlorat † 1562, author of Thesaurus S. Scripturae in locos comm. rerum et dogmatum, published in 1574 by Feugueraeus, and du Plessis Mornay † 1623, who is known through his Traité de l’Eglise 1578, Traité de la vérité de la religion chrétienne 1581 and especially also through his, in citations very inaccurate, Le mystère d’iniquité c’est à dire l’histoire de la papauté 1611. [114]

Through the emigrants to East Frisia, the Palatinate, Cleves-land, and from out of the South, Calvinism also penetrated into the Netherlands. Calvin’s Institutio was already translated into Dutch in 1560. Dathenus, de Brès, Modet, Marnix, Caspar Heydanus, and others were strict Calvinists. Many sought their education in Geneva and Heidelberg. But already in 1575 the academy at Leiden was founded, and in 1585 that at Franeker. Feugueraeus, Danaeus, Saravia, Trelcatius Sr., Bastingius, Junius were at Leiden; Lubbertus, Lydius, and Nerdenus were at Franeker the most famous professors in this century. The theological labor consisted chiefly in polemic against Rome and against the Anabaptists. But nevertheless various dogmatic handbooks already saw the light, by Gellius Snecanus, Methodica descriptio et fundamentum trium locorum communium S. Scr. 1584, by Bastingius the first exposition of the Catechism 1590, by Feugueraeus Propheticae et apostolicae, i.e. totius divinae et canonicae scripturae thesaurus 1574, by Trelcatius Sr. Loci Communes 1587, by Junius Theses Theologicae (Opera Omnia I 1592 sq.).

Calvinism also found acceptance in England and Scotland. There it came into conflict not only with Rome, but also with the Reformation which was undertaken from above by Henry VIII and Elizabeth. The Reform-minded, who under Mary fled to the Continent, there became acquainted with the doctrine of Calvin, Bullinger, Beza, Martyr, etc., and, upon their return, at once took offence at the half-measures of the English Reformation. The difference at first concerned the ceremonies. In doctrine Puritans and Anglicans were originally in agreement. English theology down to the beginning of the 17th century bore a decidedly Calvinistic character. At the Universities Calvin’s Institutes were taught. Even the episcopal form of government was defended by Cranmer, Jewel, Hooker e. a. not as the only true one, but only in the interest of the well-being of the church, Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 vol. New-York 1881 I 602 etc. But when in and since 1567 the nonconformists, among whom Pilkington, Whittingham, Thomas Sampson and Humphrey from Oxford were the principal ones, separated, the conflict extended over the whole church government. The most powerful advocate of the presbyterial form of church polity was Thomas Cartwight, prof. at Cambridge, deposed 1570, died 1603. And toward the end of the [115] century there was added yet another difference in doctrine; William Perkins † 1602, All the works, 3 vol. Amst. 1659 v. and William Whitaker † 1595, Opera, Genev. 1610 2 vol., professors at Cambridge, attempted still to maintain predestination in the 9 Lambeth Articles, Schaff, Creeds I 658 III 523, which they submitted to Elizabeth’s counsellor Whitgift, but the high-church and the Pelagian sentiment gained the upper hand more and more. In Scotland, however, Calvinism was introduced with force by John Knox † 1572, John Craig † 1600, e. a., and finally also recognized by the King 1581.

In Germany the Reformed church and theology were less dependent on Calvin. The Heidelberg Catechism, the theology of Pareus, Ursinus, Olevianus, Hyperius, Boquinus, also of à Lasco, shows in many respects a character of its own. Hofstede de Groot, Ebrard and Heppe have explained this peculiarity from Melanchthon; but this representation is unhistorical and sufficiently refuted. Much better is it derived by Prof. Gooszen in two studies on the Heidelberg Catech. 1890 and 1893 and by Dr. Van ’t Hooft, The Theol. of Heinrich Bullinger 1888 from the successor of Zwingli in Zurich. Yet between the theology of Calvin and of Bullinger there is not a single material, but only a formal and methodological difference. It is the distinction between the supra- and the infralapsarianism, between the strictly-theological and the federalistic point of departure, which has always existed in the Reformed churches and has been recognized on both sides as Reformed, cf. my essay Calvin. and Reformed in De Vrije Kerk, Febr. 1893, and the reply of Prof. Gooszen, Faith and Freedom, Dec. 1894. Alongside Ursinus and Olevianus, in Heidelberg the strictly Calvinistic Zanchius also worked.

31. Already toward the end of the 16th century the scholastic method arose in Reformed theology. The simple treatment of the dogmas, such as we find it in Calvin, Hyperius, Sohnius, could in the long run not suffice. In Martyr, Sadeel, Junius we already encounter familiarity with the questions that in the Middle Ages were treated by the scholastics. Especially Zanchius † 1590 is in his works De tribus Elohim, de natura Dei, de operibus Dei, de incarnatione (Opera Omnia in 8 tomi, Geneve 1619) and Polanus a Polansdorf † 1610 in his Syntagma [116] Theologiae excellently familiar with the theology of the church fathers and of the scholastics. In a scholastic manner dogmatics is then treated in the Reformed churches in this century, in the Netherlands by Trelcatius Jr., Scholastica et methodica locorum omnium S. Scr. institutio 1604, Nerdenus, Systema theol. 1611, Maccovius, Collegia theologica 1623, ed. 3a 1641. Loci Comm. Theol. 1626, Fr. Gomarus, Opera theol. omnia Amstel. 1664, Gisb. Voetius, Disputationes sel. 5 partes, Ultraj. 1648-59, and elsewhere especially by J. H. Alsted, prof. at Herborn and Weissenburg † 1638, Theol. scholastica didactica, exhibens locos communes theol. methodo scholastica 1618. The scholastic method, however, found by no means general assent. Maccovius received at the Synod of Dort the admonition, ut cum Spiritu Sancto loquatur, non cum Bellarmino ant Suarezio, Heringa, De twistzaak van Maccovius, Archief voor Kerk. Gesch. III 1831 bl. 505 v. The dispute of Maccovius and Amesius, ib. bl. 643 v. and Van der Tuuk, Joh. Bogerman bl. 229 v. and of Maresius against Voetius had its ground in the same scholastic method. Maresius called Voetius a theologus paradoxus, counted no fewer than 600 paradoxa in his theology, and accused him especially that he lacum asphaltidem scholasticorum derivare in fontem Siloe; see his Theologus paradoxus retectus et refutatus 1649 and against that Voetius, Disput. Sel. V. 572-716. But also where one guarded oneself against philosophical terminology, scholastic distinctions and vain scholastic questions and presented the truth in a more simple form, the 17th century was nevertheless the century of objectivity. The material lay ready, it only needed to be ordered. Tradition became a power. Not only Scripture, but also the confession, yes even the dogmatic treatment received an unassailable authority and made Camero utter the complaint that in doctrine one could not deviate ἀπο των δοκουντων εἰναι στυλοι, without being persecuted, Schweizer, Centraldogmen II 237. The principal theologians in our country were Polyander, Walaeus, Thysius and Rivetus, writers of the Synopsis Purioris theologiae, Trigland, Hoornbeek at Leiden; Maccovius, Acronius, Amesius, Schotanus, Bogerman, Cloppenburg, Arnoldus at Franeker; Ravensperger, Gomarus, H. Alting, Maresius at Groningen; Voetius, Essenius, Mastricht, Leydecker at Utrecht; further Bucanus at Lausanne, Wollebius at Basel; Danaeus, Franc. Turretinus and B. Pictet at Geneva; [117] J. H. Heidegger and J. H. Hottinger at Zurich; Chamier, Bérault, Garissoles at Montauban; Tilenus, Dumoulin, Beaulieu at Sedan; furthermore Benj. Basnage, David Blondel, Sam. Bochartus, Jean Mestrezat, Charles Drelincourt, Jean Daillé and especially the theologians at Saumur Camero, Amyraldus, Cappellus, Placaeus, cf. Félice, Histoire des Protestants de France 7e ed. 1880. In England in the 17th century the high-church and Arminian direction gained ground; it found support with the Stuarts, with the archbishops, with the nobility, and was promoted by Bancroft, the successor of Whitgift 1604-1610, who in a sermon 1589 defended the episcopate as necessary, Buckingham 1625-28, archbishop Laud 1628-45, Lord Clarendon † 1674. On the other hand there were still many theologians in the Anglican church, who indeed defended Episcopalianism but nevertheless remained faithful to Calvinism. Thus Whitgift, archbishop of Canterbury, 1583-1604, counsellor of Elizabeth, archbishop Abbot 1604-1623, fallen into disgrace in 1622, the delegates to the Synod of Dort Carlton, Hall, Davenant, prof. in Cambridge, later bishop of Salisbury, Determinationes quaestionum quarundam theologicarum, Cambr. 1634, Ward, Goad, Balcanqual and furthermore men such as Burton, Warton, Prynne, Rouse, Preston, Usher, Corpus theologiae, Dublin 1638, Dutch trans. by Ruytingius, ’t Lichaam der Godd. leer Amst. 1656, Morton, Joh. Prideaux, Lectiones theologicae, Scholasticae theologiae syntagma 1651, Saunderson, Hammond, Opera Omnia Lond. 1684, Westfield, Stillingfleet, Op. Omn. Lond. 1709, Tillotson archb. of Canterbury, Works Londen 1704, John Pearson, Exposition of the Creed 1659, Lectiones de Deo et ejus attributis, Burnet † 1715 prof. in Glasgow, later bishop of Salisbury, An exposition of the 39 articles. Roger Boyle, Summa theologiae christ. Dubl. 1687. J. Forbesius a Corse, prof. at Aberdeen, Instructiones histor. theol. de doctrina christ. 1699. Thomas Pierce, Pacificatorium orthodoxae ecclesiae corpusculum 1685. Foggius, Theol. speculativae schema 1712. W. Beveridge, Thesaurus theol. or a complete system of divinity Lond. 1710-11. Th. Bennet, Instructions for studying 1 a general system or body of divinity, 2 the 39 articles of religion, Lond. 1715. Among the Puritans from this period are especially known Bradshaw, Raynolds, Baynes, Byfield, Rogers, Hooker, White, Archer, Hildersham, Davenport, Lightfoot, Seldenus, Twissus, Calamy, [118] Gataker, Baxter, Bates, Mead, Owen etc. Arminianism had in England, both among the dissenters and among the Anglicans, great influence. And alongside that, from France also Amyraldism was transferred to England. Both often flowed together and found their union in the neonomian theory, which gave occasion to an important and long-lasting struggle. The neonomians laid the ground of justification in faith, as e.g. the Arminian John Goodwin, the friend of Milton, in his The banner of justification displayed, Imputatio fidei 1642, Richard Baxter, Justifying Righteousness, Dr. Dan. Williams, Works, 1750. Benj. Woodbridge, The method of grace in the justification of sinners 1656. Over against that stood others, who were wrongly called anti-nominians but actually had to be called anti-neonomians and placed the ground of justification only in the imputed righteousness of Christ, such as Dr. Crisp, Dr. Tully, Justificatio paulina sine operibus 1677. Isaac Chauncy, Neonomianism unmasked 1692. Id. Alexipharmacon, a fresh antidote against neonomian bane 1700. John Eaton, The honeycombe of free justification by Christ alone 1642, William Eyre, Vindiciae justificationis gratuitae 1654 etc., cf. Witsius, Misc. Sacra II p. 753 Sq. James Buchanan, The doctrine of justification, Edinburgh Clark, 1867 p. 176, 464. Generally speaking, however, the center of gravity of English theology lay not in the dogmatic but in the biblical, church-historical, patristic, archaeological and practical studies. The political and ecclesiastical relations naturally gave occasion to that, Gass, Gesch. der prot. Theol. III 297 f. Ypey, Syst. Godg. II 268 v. and furthermore Weingarten, Die Revolutionskirchen Englands 1868. Neal, Historie der Puriteinen, Rott. 1752 v. Marsden, History of the early and later Puritans from the reformation to the ejection of the nonconf. clergy in 1662, 2 vol. London 1852. Dr. Stoughton, History of religion in England from the opening of the long Parliament to the end of the 18th century, 8 vol. 1881. Dr. Tulloch, Rational theology and Christ. theology in England in the 17th century, 2 vol. 1872. Richer and more powerful in proportion was the dogmatic life in Scotland. Here Calvinism had found a suitable soil and was further developed in a strict, positive spirit. The principal theologians in this period were: Rollock, since 1583 principal [119] of the university at Edinburgh, writer of commentaries on the letters of Paul, the Psalms, Daniel and especially also of a treatise on the efficacious calling; John Welsh, of Ayr, who wrote against Romanism; John Sharp, who brought to light a harmony of the prophets and the apostles; the brothers Simpson, Patrick, who gave a church history, William, who wrote on the Hebr. accents, and Archibald, who gave an exposition of the seven penitential psalms; Boyd of Trochrigg, prof. at Saumur, in 1614 principal of the university at Glasgow, famous for his commentary on the letter to Ephesians, which not only gives an exposition but is a true thesaurus and contains all kinds of dogmatic and theological excursuses, on trinity, praedestinatie, incarnation, sin, baptism, etc.; David Calderwood, who sojourned in this country and wrote his Altare damascenum against the Anglican episcopate; Samuel Rutherford, prof. at St. Andrews, known not only for his Letters but also for many other works, Exercitationes apol. pro divina gratia 1637, de Providentia, Examen Arminianismi, The spiritual Antichrist etc.; George Gillespie, writer of Nihil respondes, Male audis, Aaron’s Rod blossoming, Miscellanies; and furthermore still Baillie, Dickson, Durham, Dr. Strang, James Wood, Patrick Gillespie, Hugh Binning and others cf. David Calderwood, The history of the Kirk of Scotland, 7 vol. Edinb. 1842. Buckle, History of civilization in England, 5 vol. Leipzig 1865, ch. 17-20. James Walker, The theology and theologians of Scotland, Edinb. Clark 1872. This positive development of Reformed dogmatics reaches in a certain sense its high point—and at the same time its end point—in the canones of Dordrecht 1618/19, in the confession and the catechism of Westminster 1646, in the Consensus Helveticus 1675, and the Walcheren articles 1693.

32. But already in the 17th century the principles were present which undermined Reformed theology and brought it to decline. In the century of the Reformation there was not only a Lutheran and Calvinistic reformation, but alongside these two other parties also appeared, namely the Anabaptists and the Socinians, who precisely in the Reformed church and theology in Switzerland, the Netherlands, England, America have at all times been of great influence. They represent the mystical and the rational element [120] in religion and theology. See for the Anabaptists and Mennonites: older literature of Luther, Melanchton, Zwingli, Bullinger, a Lasco, de Bres, Modet, Marnix, Taffin, Caspar Heydanus, Spanheim, Faukelius, Schotanus, Hoornbeek, Cloppenburg etc. in Walch Bibl. Theol. sel. II 13-29, and more recent literature of Arnold, Schenkel, Erbkam, Hase, Halbertsma, Blaupot ten Cate, Hoekstra, Gorter, Cramer etc. in Scholten, L. H. K. II 271-308. Further L. Keller, Gesch. der Wiedertäufer u. ihres Reiches in Münster 1880. Goebel, Gesch. des christl. Lebens u. s. w. I 1849 S. 134 f. Ritschl, Gesch. des Pietismus I 1880 S. 22 f. J. H. Maronier, Het inwendig woord, Amst. 1890. L. Keller, Die Reformation u. die älteren Reformparteien, Leipzig 1885, various essays by Sepp in his Geschiedk. Nasporingen, 2 parts 1872/3 and Kerkhist. Studiën 1885. A. Brons, Ursprung, Entw. u. Schicksale der Taufgesinnten oder Mennoniten, Norden 1884. Art. Anabapt. en Mennon. in Herzog2. For the Socinians and Unitarians of earlier and later time one compares Fock, Der Socinianismus 1847. Trechsel, Die protest. Antitrinitarier vor Faustus Socin, 2 Bde 1839/44. Art. Socin in Herzog2. Harnack, Dogmengesch. III 653-691.

Arminianism already had its forerunners in the 16th century in Coolhaes, Coornhert, Wiggerts, and others, but at the beginning of the 17th century it became a power in the church. It rose in opposition to the confession of God’s absolute sovereignty on the well-known five points: predestination, satisfaction, man’s depravity, conversion, and perseverance. See their Remonstrance, presented to the States in 1610, the Confessio and the Apologia pro confessione, drawn up by Episcopius, Opera II 69 sq. 95 sq.; of the confession there appeared in 1665 a Dutch edition by Uytenbogaert. Arminius, Opera Theologica, Francof. 1631. Uytenbogaert, Instruction in the Christian religion 1640. Episcopius, Institut. Theol. Opera I 11 sq. Limborch Theol. Christ. ed. 5a 1730. Curcellaeus, Opera Theol. Amst. 1675.

Cartesianianism was in principle a complete emancipation from all authority and from all objectivity, and a building up of the whole cosmos out of the subject, out of thought. Cogito, ergo sum. The rejection of all tradition and the seemingly certain mathematical method, by which Cartesius concluded to the existence [121] of the world, of God, of the spirit, pleased many. Cartesius gained many adherents, also among the theologians. Renerius and Regius in Utrecht; Raey, Heerebord, Abr. Heydanus in Leiden, and further Roell, Bekker, Joh. v. d. Waeyen, Hautecour, Andala, adopted Cartesianianism and carried rationalism into the church. The relation of reason and revelation now became the principal question; reason emancipates itself from revelation and attempts to regain its independence, A. C. Duker, Schoolgezag en eigen onderzoek, Leiden 1861. To that there now also came Coccejanism, which indeed was related to Cartesianianism in method. Coccejanism was also a reaction against traditional theology and therefore soon, toward the end of the century, entered into alliance with Cartesianianism. What was new in Coccejus † 1669 was not his covenant doctrine, as is now generally acknowledged, for this already occurs with Zwingli, Bullinger, Olevianus etc. and in this country with Snecanus, Gomarus, Trelcatius, Cloppenburg etc., but his federalistic method. Coccejus’ Summa doctrinae de foedere et testamento 1648 was a biblical-historical dogmatics, made Scripture not only into principle and norma but also into object of dogmatics, and thus placed the theologia scripturaria over against the theologia traditiva, the foedus over against the decree, history over against the idea, the anthropological method over against the theological; the danger of this method consisted in this, that it drew down the eternal, unchangeable (substantia foederis) into the stream of the temporal, historical (oeconomia foederis) and thus transferred to God himself the idea of becoming. But many followed the Coccejan method, Heydanus, Wittichius, Momma, Burman, Braun, Van der Waeyen, Witsius, Camp. Vitringa, S. van Til, Joh. d’Outrein, F. A. Lampe e. a., Diestel, Studien zur Foederaltheol. Jahrb. f. d. Theol. 1865, 2tes Heft. The struggle of Voetians and Coccejans and thereafter that of green and dry, free and stiff Coccejans continued on into deep in the 18th century. It ended in fact with a victory of Coccejanism and Cartesianianism. Scholasticism had had its time, the flowering of Aristotelian philosophy was past. Most chairs were filled with Coccejans. The coming of Lampe to Utrecht 1720 was a victory of the Coccejans. The dogmatic handbooks that now saw the light are mostly Coccejan, Melchior, Systema [122] 1685. C. Vitringa, Korte grondstellingen der Godg. 1688. S. van Til 1704. T. H. v. d. Honert, Waeragtige wegen Gods 1706. Ravestein 1716, J. v. d. Honert 1735 etc. In the main they are still orthodox, but they are mostly small in scope, avoid all scholasticism, and on many points already deviate from the old presentation. Doubt arises concerning the particular satisfaction, election, generation of the son (Roell), the trinity (P. Maty), the covenant of works (Alting, Vlak, Bekker, etc.), reason and revelation (Roell). The Voetians were more and more pushed back, and withdrew into silence. Marck’s Merch 1686, Dutch trans. 1705 and Brakel’s Redel. Godsd. 1700 were the last dogmatics in their spirit, but also already bereft of the power of the earlier ones. Pietistic, Labadist, antinomian ideas penetrated into their circles, Lodenstein, Labadie, Koelman, Lampe, Verschoor, Schortinghuis, Eswijler, Antoinette de Bourignon etc.

33. And thus was the course of theology in all Reformed churches. In France the academy of Saumur became the centre of all kinds of sensational theses. Camero † 1625 not only joined Piscator in Herborn in the denial of the imputation of Christ’s obedientia activa, but moreover taught that the will always follows the understanding and that therefore the bending of the will in regeneration was not a physical but an ethical act. Amyraldus † 1664 Traité de la prédestination made the common doctrine of the voluntas signi, of the earnest and well-meant offer of grace, into a separate decree, which preceded that of election. Thereby he laid a Remonstrant foundation under the Calvinistic edifice and ran the danger of weakening man’s inability to believe into a moral one. Cappellus † 1658 asserted in his work Arcanum punctationis revelatum, 1624 published anonymously at Leiden by Erpenius, that the Hebr. points quoad figuram had later been invented by the Jewish scholars and inserted into the text, and provoked contradiction from Buxtorf 1648. In his Critica sacra 1650 he taught that the Hebr. text was not uninjured, and in his Diatribe de veris et antiquis Hebraeorum literis 1645 that the Samaritan script was older than the Hebr. square script. Placaeus, de statu hominis lapsi ante [123] gratiam 1640 denied the immediate imputation of Adam’s sin. Claude Pajon † 1685 denied the necessity of the gratia interna, and was opposed by Jurieu in his Traité de la nature et de la grâce 1687. The theological struggle in France thus ran especially over the nature of subjective grace. Camero limited it to illumination of the understanding, Amyraldus made objective grace universal, Pajon taught the superfluousness of a special subjective grace. Deism and rationalism were thereby prepared.

In England there was great diversity among the nonconformists. The Presbyterians, after the Westminster Synod, declined both in number and in influence, and had to make room for Independency, which was already embraced in the 16th century by Robert Browne, Johnson, Ainsworth and John Robinson † 1625, Works, 3 vol. London 1851, cf. Ned. Archief v. K. Gesch. v. Kist en Royaards 1848 VIII bl. 369-407, and which increased in power and esteem during the civil war. At the Westminster Synod the Presbyterians still had the majority and the Independents still had only a few votes, Thomas Goodwin † 1680, Philip Nye † 1672, Jeremias Burroughs † 1646, William Bridge † 1670, William Carter † 1658, Sydrach Simpson † 1658, Joseph Caryll † 1673 e. a. But already in Oct. 1658, at a meeting in London, delegates from more than a hundred independent congregations were present. There the Savoy Declaration was drawn up, translated into Latin by Hoornbeek 1659 and printed after his Epistola ad Duraeum de Independentismo, Schaff, Creeds I 820-840 III 707. Their principal theologian was Dr. John Owen 1616-1683, Works, 21 vol. London 1826; the Doctrina Christiana of Milton was published in 1827 at Brunswick, Stud. u. Kr. 1879, 4tes Heft. See further Jos. Fletcher, History of independency in England since the reformation 4 vol. London 1847-49, and other litt. in Schaff, Creeds I 820. Baptism also already occurred sporadically in England in the 16th century, but only since 1633 did it begin to form its own congregations. In 1644 it counted 7 congregations in and 47 outside London. In 1677 the Baptists issued a Confession of faith, which differed from the Westminster confession and the Savoy Declaration only in church government and baptism. On the basis of this [124] confession, in 1693 a catechism was drawn up by William Collins, which was generally accepted. From the Calvinistic Baptists the General, Arminian or Free-will Baptists are distinguished. Baptism later found dissemination especially in America through Roger Williams † 1683. For dogmatics it has done little, but it has produced powerful preachers in John Bunjan † 1688, Robert Hall, John Foster, etc., Schaff, Creeds I 845-859, III 738-756. J. M. Cramp, Baptist History from the foundation of the Christ. Church to the close of the 18 century, Philad. 1868. The period of the civil war was in England, in the religious and theological sphere, a time of the greatest confusion. All kinds of ideas and directions churned together. Formerly these were for a time held to be so many sects, but much better are they, with Weingarten, regarded as nuances in the one great party of the Saints. Arminian, baptistic, chiliastic, antinomian, and even libertine sentiments found entrance. A religious individualism prevailed. In Quakerism this reached its climax. The emancipation from tradition, the confession, the church connection is completed therein, in that each believer is set on his own, even detached from Scripture, and in himself, in the Spirit, in the inward light, possesses the source of his religious life and knowledge. All that is objective, Scripture, Christ, church, office, sacrament, is set aside; the believers live from a principle of their own and also distinguish themselves in society by their own morals, customs, clothing, etc. George Fox 1624-1640, Works, 3 vol. London 1694-1706 was founder of this sect, Robert Barclay 1648-1690, Apologia theologiae vere christianae, Amst. 1675 was its theologian, and William Penn 1644-1718 its statesman, William Sewel, History of the rise, increase and progress of the christian people called Quaker, London 1725. Th. Evans, An exposition of the faith of the religious society of friends, Philad. 1828. Schneckenburger, Vorles. über die Lehrbegriffe der kleineren prot. Kirchenparteien 69 f. Weingarten, Rev. Kirchen Englands 364 f. Möhler, Symbolik 492 f. Schaff, Creeds I 859-873. Herzog2 art. Quäker.

All these individualistic generations paved the way for Deism. The realism of the English national character, the nominalism of Duns Scotus, Roger Bacon and William of [125] Occam, the empiricist philosophy of Francis Bacon † 1626 had already prepared it. And when now in the 17th century the confusion in religious convictions was added, and all England was divided into parties and sects, in many the thought awoke that only in that which was common to all could the essence of religion be situated. Latitudinarianism found acceptance and ran out into deism. The line of the deists was opened by Herbert of Cherbury † 1648, who in his work de veritate 1624 and de religione gentilium 1645 reduced the essence of religion to five truths: existence of God, veneration of God, virtue, repentance and retribution; but this original, true and pure religion has in all manner of ways been falsified by the priests. This was the program of deism. From there the struggle against revelation was now subsequently undertaken. Locke † 1704, The reasonableness of christianity 1695, assigned to reason the decision concerning revelation. John Toland † 1722, Christianity not mysterious 1696, pronounced that Christianity contained not only nothing against but also nothing above reason. Anton Collins † 1729, Discourse on freethinking 1713, recommended free, i.e. unbelieving, thinking. Thomas Woolston † 1731 wrote Discourses on the miracles of our saviour 1727-30 and attempted to explain these by allegory. M. Tindal † 1733, Christianity as old as creation 1730, set aside the whole of revelation. Deism ended in skepticism with Henry Dodwell, Christianity not founded on argument 1742. And this skepticism was completed in the philosophical domain by D. Hume † 1776.

34. Around 1750 the decline of Reformed theology set in everywhere. The dissolving elements, already present in the previous century, continued to operate and undermined dogmatics. After Coccejanism had gained the victory in this country, from 1740 to 1770 came the period of the Tolerants. The power of the truth was denied; from the confession one withdrew back to Scripture; distinctive Reformed doctrines, inherited guilt, covenant of works, particular satisfaction, etc., were abandoned; under fair form and biblical name all kinds of Remonstrant and Socinian errors arose. The confessors of the Reformed religion at most still acquiesce in what is present, but they no longer live in it and no longer speak out of it. The old [126] dogmatics became an object of historical study. Prof. Bernh. de Moor wrote a Commentarius perpetuus in Marckii Compendium, 6 vol. Lugd. B. 1761-71, and Rev. Martinus Vitringa gave a commentary on the Doctrina Christ. religionis of his father Campegius Vitringa, under the title Doctrina Christ. relig. per aphorismos summatim descripta, ed. sexta. Cui nunc accedit ὑποτυπωσις theologiae elencticae in usum scholarum domesticarum Campegii Vitringae, curante Martino Vitringa, qui praefationem, prolegomena et adnotationes adjecit, nec non analysin v. cl. Theodori Scheltingae, 9 partes, Amst. 1761. Among the few who with heart and soul held fast to the old Reformed doctrine and defended it with talent and further developed it, Alex. Comrie † 1774, A. B. C. des geloofs 1739, Eigengesch. des zaligm. geloofs 1744, Verklaring van den Catech. 1753, Brief over de rechtvaardigmaking 1761, cf. Dr. A. G. Honig, Alex. Comrie, 1892, Nic. Holtius † 1773, Verhandeling over de rechtv. door het geloof 1750, and J. J. Brahé, Aanmerkingen wegens de vijf Walch. art. 1758 occupy a first place. The first two in their Examen van het ontwerp van Tolerantie, in 10 Samenspraken, Amst. 1753-59 took up the struggle against the Tolerants, among whom the Professors J. van den Honert, J. J. Schultens and Alberti especially had to suffer. Alongside them J. C. Appelius also still deserves to be mentioned, who is known through his struggle about the Lord’s Supper, Zedig en vrijmoedig onderzoek, etc. 1763. Over het avondmaal 1764. Aanmerkingen over het rechte gebruik van het Evangelie. Vervolg van de Aanmerkingen, etc. De Hervormde leer 1769.

But since 1770 the so-called neology increased more and more in influence. English deism, French unbelief, and German rationalism found here a fertile soil. The revolution was a total change in conceptions. Orthodoxy was, in the form of a not rationalistic but rational, moderate, biblical supranaturalism, carried over into the 19th century, and as such had its principal representatives in P. Chevallier, Schema Institutionum theol. 1773-75. Br. Broes, Institut. Theol. theor. 1788. J. van Nuys Klinkenberg, Instruction in religion 12 parts 1780 v. Samuel van Emdre, Catechism of the H. Religion 1780. W. E. de Perponcher, Considerations. Religion 1790 etc., especially H. Muntinghe, Pars theologiae [127] christ. theoretica 1800. And likewise it went in other countries. France in the 18th century no longer had any proper Ref. theology. The revocation of the edict of Nantes banished the best forces outside the country. In the 18th century Paul Rabaut † 1794 and Antoine Court † 1760 acquired for themselves the honorary name of restorers of the Ref. church in France. The French ministers received their training mostly in Lausanne, where a special seminary had been established for the French students according to the plan of Antoine Court. In Switzerland the Consensus Helvetius 1675 could not check rationalism. J. E. Wettstein and his son in Basel, J. C. Suicerus and his son Henricus in Zurich, Mestrezat and Louis Tronchin in Geneva raised objections against it, Schweizer, Centraldogmen II 663 v.; already in 1685 efforts were set in motion to set it aside, and in the 18th century these in Geneva, Basel, Appenzell, Zurich, Bern etc. were crowned with good success. J. F. Osterwald, minister at Neufchatel † 1747 forms the transition from 17th-century orthodoxy to 18th-century rationalism. In his Traité des sources de la corruption, qui règne aujourd’hui parmi les Chrétiens 1700, Catéchisme 1702, Compendium theol. Christ. 1739 he complains about dead orthodoxy and the finely spun dogmata, he passes over many doctrines in silence, e.g. about election, and seeks revival of morality. With him J. A. Turretinus † 1737, Opera 3 vol. and S. Werenfels † 1740, Opuscula, ed. 2. 1739 formed the Swiss triumvirate. The moderate orthodoxy represented by them soon led to decided heterodoxy in J. J. Zimmermann † 1757. Opuscula 1751-59. J. J. Lavater † 1759 art. Genève in the Dictionn. Encycl. of Diderot and d’Alembert, J. Vernet, Instruction Chrétienne 1754. The mathematical method of Wolf was applied to theology by D. Wyttenbach, Tentamen theol. dogm. methodo scientifica pertractata, 3 tomi 1747, J. F. Stapfer, Institut. theol....... ordine scientifico dispositae, 5 vol. 1743, Grundlegung zur wahren Religion Zurich 1751-52, Bernsau, later prof. at Franeker, Theol. dogmatica, methodo scientifica pertractata 1745-47, in Germany by Ferdinand Stosch † 1780, Summa paedagogiae scholasticae ad praelectiones academicas in theologiam revel. dogm. 1770, Sam. Endemann prof. at Marburg Instit. theol. dogm. 1777 and Sam. Mursinna prof. at Halle, Compendium [128] theol. dogm. 1777. In England dogmatics was almost wholly taken up by the questions about prediction, miracle, and revelation, which had been placed on the agenda by deism. Although apologetics was often rationalistically colored, it nevertheless had many, and among them also some excellent, representatives, Samuel Clarke † 1729, Nathan Lardner † 1768, Joseph Butler † 1752, Richard Bentley, William Whiston, Arthur Ashley Sykes, Thomas Sherlock † 1761, Daniël Waterland † 1742, John Coneybeare, John Leland, James Foster, William Warburton † 1779, Richard Watson † 1816, William Paley † 1805, Evidences of Christianity 1794. Natural Theology 1802 etc. Among the dogmatic works that saw the light in this period, the principal ones are those of Hutchinson, of which an extract is given in A letter to a bishop concerning some important discoveries in philosophy and theology 1735; of Stackhouse † 1752, A complete body of speculative and practical divinity 1709, Dutch transl. 1758, Isaac Watts † 1748 known not only for his spiritual songs and logic but also for his catechism 1728, Philipp Doddridge † 1751, Rise and progress of religion in the soul 1745, and others. Among the Scottish divines in the 18th century there come to the foreground Thomas Boston † 1732, A complete body of divinity, 3 vol. 1773, Fourfold State, Dutch transl. 1742, A view of the covenant of grace, Dutch transl. by Comrie 1741; Adam Gib, and the first five Seceders, Fisher, Wilson, Moncrieff and the brothers Ralph and Ebenezer Erskine, whose works have also been translated into Dutch, new edition, Amst. 1856. Of importance was the so-called Marrow controversy, which began in 1717 on the occasion that the work of the Independent Edward Fisher, The marrow of modern divinity, published in 1647, was again issued in Scotland. The neonomian struggle, which in the previous century had been fought in England, was thereby transplanted to Scotland. The book was attacked by Principal Hadow of St. Andrews in a work entitled The antinomianism of the marrow detected 1721. People accused the “Marrow divines,” among whom Boston was the principal one, of antinomianism, but did not keep themselves free from neonomianism. The General Assembly condemned some propositions in the Marrow book as errors; which also gave occasion for the separation of the Erskine’s, who had ranged themselves on [129] the side of Boston. Neonomianism was the preparation for rationalism, which gradually also penetrated into the theology and church of Scotland and in men such as Simpson, Mc. Laurin and others is already clearly noticeable, Walker, The Theology and theol. of Scotland p. 25 v. 39 v. 53 v. James Buchanan, The doctrine of justification 1867 p. 182-188. Merle d’Aubigné, Germany, England and Scotland, Rotterdam, 1849.

35. At the beginning of the 19th century Reformed theology was almost everywhere in a sad decline. In the form of supranaturalism theology was practised here by Van der Palm, Van Voorst, Borger, Clarisse, Kist, van Hengel at Leiden, by Abresch, Chevallier, Muntinghe, Ypey at Groningen, Heringa, Royaards, Bouman, Vinke at Utrecht, by many capable and eminent ministers Dermout, Broes, Donker Curtius, van Senden, Egeling etc. and by many essayists in the Stolpian bequest 1756, Teyler’s Society 1778 and the Hague Society 1787. This supranaturalist direction wanted to be rational, not rationalistic in the sense of Wegscheider, Röhr, Paulus; it maintained revelation and argued its necessity, possibility and truth on all kinds of rational and historical grounds. It wanted to be biblical and was anti-confessional, anti-philosophical, anti-Calvinistic; it acquired a dogmatics which was deistic in theology, Pelagian in anthropology, moralistic in Christology, collegialist in ecclesiology, and eudaemonistic in eschatology. It was in the northern provinces of the country about 1835 replaced by the Groningen theology, which, in the footsteps of the Socratic philosophy of Van Heusde † 1839, replaced the idea of revelation and doctrine by that of education, and thus incorporated an ethical element in the relation of God and man. God was here not in the first place Teacher, but the great Educator, who through nature and history, through the person and the church of Christ, trained human beings as his children into wise and pious Christians, into God-likeness. The opposition which it experienced from orthodox, soon also from modern quarters, and the inner development into an Evangelical direction, made that it had to make way about 1850 for Modern Theology. This arose [130] with Opzoomer who became professor at Utrecht in 1845 and applied the empiricist philosophy of Mill and Comte to religion. He arrived at anti-supranaturalism. Scholten in his Leer der Hervormde Kerk finally gave a modern dogmatics under Reformed flag. And Kuenen appeared as advocate of evolution in the field of Old Testament Scripture. There was thus gradually a development in the theological field toward unbelief; modern theology no longer has any dogmatics. Over against these negative directions, however, in this century in our fatherland there arose the positive directions of the Réveil and the secession, of the Utrecht and the ethical-irenic school and finally of Calvinism, which strives also theologically to win a position of its own. See further my essay on the Gesch. der theol. in Nederland, Presb. and Ref. Review April 1892, and Tijdschr. voor Geref. Theol. June and July 1894 p. 161 ff. and the literature indicated there. In Germany Reformed theology has declined further and further. The Reformed church had conquered a broad territory in Germany. Its theology was practised in Heidelberg, Duisburg, Marburg, Frankfurt a/O, Herborn, Bremen, Halle. Thus it remained until the middle of the 18th century. But then came the Aufklärung, in 1817 the Union, subsequently the influence of the philosophy of Kant, Schleiermacher etc., and all these causes have brought the Reformed church and theology in Germany wholly to decline. To be sure, at the beginning of this century there came some awakening also of Reformed consciousness, with Krafft in Erlangen, G. D. Krummacher in Elberfeld, Geibel in Lübeck, Mallet in Bremen etc. But this was nevertheless not strong enough. Even men such as Ebrard † 1888 in Erlangen, Heppe † 1879 in Marburg have by their Melanchthonianism inflicted great damage on the Reformed cause. Only Wichelhaus † 1858 in Halle, Karl Südhoff † 1865 in Frankfurt a/M., Böhl in Vienna, Dr. A. Zahn in Stuttgart, O. Thelemann in Detmold, Kohlbrugge † 1875 in Elberfeld e. a. took their stand decisively on the foundation of the Reformed confession. At present there is in Germany not a single theological university or school, and not a single theological professor of Reformed confession any more, A. Zahn, Die Ursachen des Niederganges der ref. Kirche in Deutschl. Barmen 1881. Id. Abriss einer Gesch. der ev. Kirche auf dem europ. Festlande im 19 Jahrh. Stuttgart 3e Aufl. 1893, 12tes Kapitel. [131]

36. In Switzerland and France there came a revival through the Réveil, which was transplanted there from Scotland. The Réveil, (cf. Wagenaar, Het reveil en de afscheiding, who gives litt. on p. 40. H. von der Goltz, Die reform. Kirche Genfs im 19. Jahrh. Bazel u. Genf 1862. Léon Maury, Le réveil religieux dans l’église réformée à Genève et en France, Paris, Fischbacher 2 vol. 1892. W. van Oosterwijk Bruijn, Het Reveil in Nederland, Utrecht 1890. Pierson, Oudere Tijdgenooten 1888) was a powerful, spiritual movement, but was from the outset unecclesiastical and anti-confessional. It took its stand on a general-Christian foundation and was further characterized by its individualistic, aristocratic, methodistic, and philanthropic character. In Switzerland it laid emphasis especially on two dogmas, election (Cesar Malan † 1864. Biography by Malan Jr. Amst. Höveker 1874) and inspiration (Merle d’Aubigné † 1872. Gaussen † 1863). But Alexander Vinet 1797-1847, who in 1822/’23 came under the influence of the Réveil, proceeded theologically from another idea. The vital principle of his faith and his theology was the harmony of Christianity and conscience. Thereby he was led to urge so strongly the connection of dogma and morality, the ethical side of truth; thereby he came to his synergism and to rejection of election etc. Vinet, however, held fast to the principal truths of Christianity to the end, Dr. J. Cramer, Alex. Vinet as christ. moralist and apologist portrayed and appreciated, Leiden, Brill 1883, and the litt. cited there on p. 6. Much further, however, went his pupil E. Scherer, who was at first strictly orthodox but gradually broke with his past, and ended his life in complete unbelief. Since then there arose in France and Switzerland a liberal Protestantism, Pécaut Le Christ et la conscience, Paris 1859, Martin-Paschoud, Réville; Cougnard, Buisson. Thus there stood two directions, a liberal and an evangelical, over against each other. But within the latter the principles of Vinet continued to operate, later still supported by the influence of Ritschl. There are now three directions to be distinguished: a liberal or left side, Bouvier in Geneva; a mediating direction, Pressensé, Astié, Sécrétan, Sabatier, Leopold Monod, Chapuis, Dandiran, Lobstein; and an evangelical, moderately orthodox, Godet father and son, Porret, Berthoud, Martin, Doumergue, Bertrand, [132] H. Bois, Gretillat. The struggle between these two directions now runs especially over two questions. The one concerns authority in matters of religion, namely whether this lies in Scripture, in Christ, or in reason and conscience. The second concerns the person of Christ, namely whether he is truly God or has emptied himself through kenosis or is also only a man, differing from us in degree, cf. Gretillat in The Presb. and Ref. Review, July 1892 and July 1893.

37. An overview of theology in England and Scotland is given by Pfleiderer, Die Entw. der prot. Theol. in Deutschl. seit Kant u. in Grossbritt. seit 1825, Freiburg 1891, S. 386 f. Ad. Zahn, Abriss einer Gesch. der ev. Kirche im britischen Weltreich im 19 Jahrh. Stuttgart 1891. Dr. Carl Clemen, Der gegenwärtige Stand des relig. Denkens in Grossbrittannie, Stud. u. Krit. 1892, 3tes Heft S. 513-548. G. Elliott, Bilder aus dem kirchl. Leben Englands, Leipzig Akad. Buchhandlung. G. d’Alviella, L’évolution relig. chez les Anglais, les Americains et les Hindous 1884. Walker, Present theological drifts in Scotland, Presb. and Ref. Rev. Jan. 1893. Religious England, as we know it today, is a work of Methodism. John Wesley 1703-1791 was not a scholarly theologian, but a powerful preacher, who individualized the gospel, and made it a question of life for every human being cf. J. Wedgwood, John Wesley and the evangelical reaction of the eighteenth century 1870. The Methodism that arose through him and George Whitefield 1714-1771 was not in the first place a deviation from one or another of the 39 articles, but it concentrated the whole truth of religion around two centers, namely around the sudden, conscious experience of guilt and grace, i.e. around personal conversion, and secondly around the revelation of that new life in an entirely new form, consisting in this, that one went out to convert others, abstained from various adiaphora and held Christian perfection to be attainable already in this life. This one-sidedness led to the result that gradually various dogmas were contested, modified, or regarded as of subordinate value; cf. on Methodism the art. by Schoell in Herzog2. Saussaye, Godsd. Bewegingen 109 v. Möhler, Symbolik § 75-76. Schneckenburger, Vorles. über die Lehrbegriffe der kleineren prot. Kirchenparteien [133] 1863 S. 103-151. Kolde, der Methodismus u. seine Bekämpfung, Erlangen 1886. Id. Die Heilsarmee ib. 1885, holl. vert. van Dr. A. W. Bronsveld. Methodism has exercised an incalculable influence, on Independents, Baptists, Presbyterians, Anglicans; Wesley has been the re-creator of English and American Protestantism, the revivals have since then no longer departed from the Prot. churches, he was the Archbishop of the Slums, the father of the inner mission, the founder of Christian socialism. Methodism, however, was in the main limited to the people. In the higher circles, in politics, philosophy, letters, cold liberalism remained dominant. Against that there came reaction through romanticism, (W. Scott, Southey, S. T. Coleridge † 1834), which on ecclesiastical and theological terrain was transplanted into the Oxford movement. This movement has considerably strengthened the high-church party, which had already existed from the 16th century onward, and has powerfully promoted Roman doctrine and rite in the Anglican church. Cf. art. Traktarianismus in Herzog2. The writers too of Lux Mundi 1890, Canon Holland, Moore, Illingworth, Talbot, C. Gore e. a. attempted to renew Puseyism and to make the Christian dogmas plausible, by placing them in the light of the more recent time. Alongside the high-church party the broad-church party has appeared, which was already prepared in the 17th and 18th century by Latitudinarianism, and in this century received excellent representatives in Thomas Arnold † 1842, Hampden † 1868, F. D. Maurice † 1872, Ch. Kingsley † 1874, Whately † 1863, F. W. Robertson † 1853, A. P. Stanley † 1881. Averse to the Methodism of the low-church party, they all have in serious and noble manner striven for a reconciliation of Christianity and culture. The church, according to their conviction, had to become an educational school of the people; religion had to reconcile itself with all that is true, good and beautiful, wherever it might be found; and Christianity had above all to reveal its power in the moral renewal of society. This broad, tolerant standpoint found more and more assent. The rise and progress of ritualism, the manifold sects and directions, the distress of the lower society and especially also the Higher Criticism, which already with bishop Colenso made its entry into the English world, and then by Rob. Smith, T. K. Cheyne, S. R. Driver was propagated [134], have secured for the broad-church direction the upper hand. One of the principal spokesmen in the present time is F. W. Farrar, dean of Westminster Abbey. But by no means only in, also far outside the Established Church this broad standpoint is now taken up by many. Among the principal spokesmen belong now the Baptist J. Clifford; the Congregationalists E. W. Dale, The old Evangelicalism and the new 1889, Dr. Joseph Parker in London, Dr. Fairbairn of Mansfield College, The place of Christ in modern theology, cf. Theol. Stud. van Dr. Daubanton, May, June 1894; the Presbyterians Prof. Henry Drummond, The natural law in the spiritual world, Summum bonum etc. Marcus Dods, A. B. Bruce, Apologetics, or Christianity defensively stated, Edinburgh Clark 1892. James Lindsay, The progressiveness of modern Christian thought, Edinb. Blackwood 1892. Horton, Inspiration and the Bible Rev. J. B. Heard, Alexandrinian and Carthaginian Theology Edinb. Clark, Hulsean lectures, Prof. Edw. Caird, The evolution of religion, 2 vol., James Orr, The Christian view of God and the world, as centring in the incarnation, Edinb. Elliot. 1893, cf. my essay, Theol. Stud. van Dr. Daubanton 1894. And furthermore also Flint, Milligan, Gloag in the Establ. Church of Scotland, Brown, Rainy, Davidson, Salmond, Laidlaw, G. A. Smith, in the Free Church, Cairns, Muir, Thomson, J. Smith in the United Presbyt. etc. Besides by its christological point of departure, which concentrates everything around the incarnation, this direction is further characterized by its unifying tendency. The ecclesiastical differences are erased or presented as of slight significance; practically one works together with men of every church and direction; and theoretically many even strive for union of all Protestant churches, as e.g. J. Clifford. W. T. Stead certainly goes the farthest, when he hopes for a “church of the future” that will lead the whole social reform, take up into itself the whole culture, even up to the theaters, and will encompass all people. Often there then also goes together with this the hope for a restoration of all things on the other side of the grave; see from the rich literature only The wider Hope, Essays and Strictures on the doctrine and literature of future punishment by numerous writers, lay and clerical, London, Fisher Unwin 1890. Strict Calvinism is losing ground by the day. [135] Here and there it is still maintained, in the Scottish Highlands, in Wales etc., but of a scholarly cultivation and defense there is no longer any question. By contrast, the doctrine of evolution is spreading in England by the day. After Deism had already subjected the miracles, the prophecies and revelation to a formidable criticism, under the influence of the doctrine of descent of Darwin, the agnosticism of Spencer, the empiricism of Stuart Mill and the materialism of Tyndal, Huxley, Evolution and ethics 1893 cf. Tijdspiegel, April 1894 this religious process of dissolution has continued still further. The criticism of the Christian dogmas received an unexpected, strong support from Edwin Hatch, The organisation of the early christ. churches 1881, The influence of Greek ideas and usages upon the christ. church, Hibbert lectures 1888, who, just as already Hampden before him in his The scholastic philosophy in relation to christ. theology 1832, explained the dogmas from the connection of pagan philosophy with original Christianity. Unitarianism, which in 1773 founded its first congregation and now in James Martineau, A study of religion, its sources and contents 1888, The seat of authority in religion 1890 possesses an excellent spokesman, is gradually gaining in influence. Many have even broken entirely with Christianity, G. Eliott, Ch. Bradlaugh, A. Besant, W. St. Ross, Morley, J. C. Morison, cf. Ch. Bradlaugh, A. Besant and Ch. Watts, The freethinkers textbook 1876; and seek their religious satisfaction in Buddhist theosophy (Mevr. Blavatzky, A. Besant), in morality (M. Arnold, Literature and dogma 1873, God and the Bible 1875, who defined religion as morality touched with emotion and God as the eternal power, not ourselves, which makes for righteousness), or in a society for ethical culture, (founded 1876 in America, 1886 in England. W. M. Salter, Die Religion der Moral, deutsch von G. von Gizycki, Leipzig 1885) or even in Mohammedanism, for which in 1891 in Liverpool a mosque was opened.

38. For the history of dogmatics in America one may consult, inter alia, Encyclopedia of living divines and Christian Workers of all denominations in Europe and America. Being a supplement to Schaff-Herzog, Encyclopedia of religious knowledge. [136] Edited by Rev. Ph. Schaff and Rev. S. M. Jackson, New-York 1887. Adolf Zahn, Abriss einer Gesch. der Evang. Kirche in Amerika im 19 Jahrh. Stuttgart 1889. Fr. Nippold, Amerik. Kirchengeschichte seit der Unabhängigkeitserklärung der Ver. Staaten, Berlin 1892. All churches have been successively transplanted into America and Canada from England and other countries of Europe. The Episcopal church is the oldest and richest and dates already from the immigration into Virginia in 1607. The Dutch Reformed Church has been established there since the discovery of the Hudson and of Manhattan Island 1609. The Independents or Congregationalists first landed at Plymouth 1620. The Quakers were led by William Penn in 1680 to Pennsylvania. The Baptists gained a firm footing in America on Rhode Island through Roger Williams 1639. The Methodists found entrance there through Wesley 1735 and Whitefield 1738. The German churches, both the Lutheran and the Reformed, were established there since the middle of the previous century. The Presbyterian churches are divided there into different groups. A sketch of the Presbyt. theology is given by Prof. Schaff in his Theological Propaedeutic, 2 parts, New-York 1892 ’93, II p. 374-405, and in The Independent, New-York vol. 45 No. 2321, 2324, 2329 and 2330. For Congregationalism see Congregationalists in America, ed. by Dr. Albert E. Dunning, New-York, Hill and Co. 1894. Almost all these churches and directions in churches were of Calvinistic origin. Of all religious movements Calvinism has been the most powerful in America. It is not limited to one or another church, but under all kinds of modification is the animating element in the Congregat. Bapt. Presbyt. Holl. and German Reformed churches etc. From all sides it was brought into America, from England, Scotland, France, Holland, Germany. It formed the character of New-England during the colonial period 1620-1776. One must, however, distinguish between the Puritan Calvinism, which came especially from England and found entrance in New-England, and the Presbyterian Calvinism, which from Scotland was introduced into the Southern, Middle and Western States. Both forms of Calvinism had as basis the Westminster confession of 1647, but in both there soon also arose a struggle between an old and a new school. The first and principal theologian of New-England [137] was Jonathan Edwards 1703-1758, art. in Herzog2, biography by Prof. A. V. G. Allen, at Houghton, Miffin and Comp. New-York, 1st part of American religious leaders. His works have been published in 4 parts at New-York, Carter and Brothers 1881. He combined deep metaphysical power of thought with a serious piety. In 1734, still before the coming of Wesley into America, there took place in his congregation at Northampton a remarkable awakening; and later he, with his friend Whitefield, has repeatedly led and defended such revivals. Theologically he waged the struggle especially against Arminianism, which penetrated into New-England through the writings of Daniel Whitby and John Taylor. He attempted to strengthen Calvinism by his metaphysical and ethical speculations, but has nevertheless in fact weakened it by his distinction of natural and moral inability. He became the father of the Edwardians, New-Theology Men, New-Lights, as they are called, who indeed maintained the Calvinistic doctrine of God’s sovereignty and election, but united therewith the rejection of inherited guilt and the universality of the atonement, just as the Saumur theologians did in France. His son Jonathan Edwards 1745-1801 in the doctrine of satisfaction in essence advanced the theory of Grotius. Samuel Hopkins, a pupil of Edwards 1721-1803, whose works in 1852 at Boston were published by Prof. Park of Andover, wrote a system of theology, in which he reproduced the system of Edwards and especially elaborated the disinterested love to God in the sense of Fénélon and Madame Guyon. Nathaniel Emmons 1745-1840, Works, Boston 1842 was one of the principal defenders of Hopkinsianism. With Timothy Dwight 1752-1817, Nathaniel W. Taylor 1786-1858 the system of Edwards was modified in a Pelagian sense. And in the present time at Andover, under the leadership of Dr. Egbert C. Smyth, prof. in church history, it led to the defense of a progressive orthodoxy and to the doctrine of the future probation. The Old School in the theology of New-England was especially represented by Dr. Bennet Tyler 1783-1858, and Dr. Leonard Woods 1774-1854, who defended the old Calvinism. Puritanism, however, has more and more abandoned the standards of Dordrecht and Westminster. At the synod of the Congregat. [138] churches in America, at St. Louis 1880, a new confession of 12 articles was prepared, in which the characteristic Reformed doctrines have been omitted.

39. Theology in the Presbyt. churches in America has had a parallel course. Here too a schism arose not only among the theologians, between the Old Lights and the New Lights, but also in the churches between the Synod of Philadelphia and New-York 1741-1758. One of the first theologians was John Dickinson 1688-1747, whose principal work is a defence of the five articles against the Remonstrants. The Old School found support especially in Princeton college, founded 1812, and was represented there by Dr. Archibald Alexander 1772-1851, Dr. Charles Hodge 1797-1878, Systematic Theology London and Edinb. Nelson 1873 3 vol. and his son and successor Archibald Alexander Hodge 1823-1886, Outlines of Theology, ed. by W. H. Goold. London, Nelson 1866. Evangelical Theology, ib. 1890. The so-called Princeton Theology is in the main a reproduction of the Calvinism of the 17th century, as it is set down in the Westminster confession and the Consensus Helveticus and especially worked out by F. Turretinus in his Theol. Elenctica. The same system is also advocated by the Southern theologians James H. Thornwell 1812-1862, Robert J. Breckinridge 1800-1871 and Robert L. Dabney. One of the youngest representatives of the Old School is W. G. T. Shedd, since 1890 emeritus professor of Union Seminary at New-York, Dogmatic Theology, 2 vol. New-York, Scribner 1888. Between Hodge and Shedd, however, there is a remarkable difference. The first is federalist and creationist, the second is realist and traducianist. Both, however, again agree in this, that they construe election very broadly and include under it also all children dying in infancy. The New Lights deviated from the Old School, apart from the authority of the general synod, the revivals, the union with the congregationalists etc., especially also in the matter of inherited guilt and the particular satisfaction, to which later have also been added the inspiration of the H. Scripture and eschatology. Representatives of this new direction were Albert Barnes 1798-1870, Lyman Beecher 1775-1863 and Thomas H. Skinner 1791-1871, who, however, none of the three have left behind a theol. system. [139] Barnes and Beecher were accused of heresy but acquitted. Yet it again came to a schism in the churches in 1837, when the Old School obtained the majority in the General Synod and cut off four synods from the communion. In 1869, however, they were again united, especially through the influence of the Union Theol. Seminary at New-York, founded in 1836. Here dogmatics was taught by Dr. Henry B. Smith 1815-1877, System of Christian Theology, ed. by W. S. Karr, 4 ed. New-York Armstrong 1890, who sought a mediation between Old and New School in the Christocentric standpoint. One of his pupils, Lewis French Stearns † 1892 wrote Present day Theology, and therein advocates all the newer ideas about inspiration, providence, kenosis, praedestination, salvation. Another Professor in Union Seminary, Dr. Charles Briggs, was in 1892 accused of heterodoxy, because he holds reason to be a source, accepts errors in Scripture, recognizes the Higher Criticism, The Bible, the Church and the reason; Messianic prophecy; Inspiration and inerrancy etc., and in 1893 was condemned by the General Assembly. But with that the crisis is not over. The Reformed churches in America are living through a difficult time. The dogmas of the infallibility of the H. Scripture, of the Trinity, of the fall and the impotence of man, of the particular satisfaction, of election and reprobation etc. are secretly denied or openly contested. The revision question is indeed temporarily off the track in the Presbyt. church, but will probably come up again. The present seems not to be favourable for the flourishing of Reformed theology, cf. my essay The future of Calvinism, Presb. and Ref. Review Jan. 1894.

CHAPTER I. Principia in General.

Monergism Books

§ 6. Meaning of the Principia.

1. According to Simplicius, the Neoplatonic commentator on Aristotle, Phys. 32 and likewise according to Hippolytus in his Refutatio omnium haeresium I 6, cf. H. Ritter et L. Preller, Historia philos. graecae 1886 p. 16, 17, Anaximander was the first who designated the ground of things, for which he held the ἀπειρον, with the name of ἀρχη. Perhaps, however, he thereby only indicated that the ἀπειρον was the beginning and the first of all things, Ed. Zeller, Die Philosophie der Griechen, 4e Aufl. I 203. But in the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle this word acquired the meaning of ultimate cause of things. Aristotle understands by ἀρχαι in general the first things in a series, and then especially the first causes, which are not to be derived from any others; he gives Metaph. V. 1. 1013, a, 17 this definition: πασων μεν οὐν κοινον των ἀρχων το πρωτον εἰναι ὁθεν ἠ ἐστιν ἠ γινεται ἠ γιγνωσκεται, id unde aliquid est aut fit aut cognoscitur. Such causes he assumed especially in twofold domain, in that of being and of consciousness, in metaphysics and in logic. The being of things was by him derived from four ἀρχαι, namely ὑλη, εἰδος, ἀρχη της κινησεως and τελος, Phys. II, 3, 194_{b}, 16 etc. But likewise he assumed such ultimate causes in logic. Aristotle namely observed that by no means can a proof be given of everything; of many matters, after all, we have not [141] a mediate knowledge by demonstration but an immediate knowledge by reason. The proofs themselves must, in order not to form a regressus in infinitum, proceed from such propositions, which as immediately certain are not susceptible of any proof and do not need it either. And these propositions Aristotle called ἀρχαι ἀποδειξεως, ἀρχαι συλλογιστικαι, ἀρχαι ἀμεσοι, or also, as general presupposition of all demonstration, ἀξιωματα, Anal. post. I 2, 72a, 7, etc. and he says there himself of them: λεγω δ’ ἀρχας ἐν ἑκαστῳ γενει ταυτας, ἁς ὁτι ἐστι μη ἐνδεχεται δειξαι. In the same sense the Latin principium was used. Cicero speaks e.g. of rerum principia Acad. IV 36, principia naturae Off. III 12, principia naturalia Fin. II 11, principium philosophiae Nat. D. I 1, principia juris Leg. I 6, etc. In accordance with the above-cited definition of Aristotle there was now later in logic a threefold principium distinguished, principium essendi, existendi and cognoscendi, according as the being, the becoming or the knowledge of some thing had to be derived from something else. From principium causa was then again so distinguished, that causa designated the principium as influxu suo determinans aliquid sibi insufficiens ad existendum, and as tempore or at least natura prior than the thing which it caused. Causa is thus a particular kind of principium; every causa is principium, but not every principium is causa, J. F. Buddeus, Elementa philosophiae instrumentalis, ed. 5a 1714, I p. 140 sq. 288 sq. Liberatore, Instit. philos. ed. 8a Romae 1855 I 217.

2. This mode of speech was also adopted in Theology. In Holy Scripture ἀρχη not only often has a temporal meaning Marc. 1:1, Joh. 1:1 etc., but also a few times a causative meaning. In the LXX the fear of the Lord is called the ἀρχη της σοφιας Spr. 1:7, and in Apoc. 3:14 and Col. 1:18 Christ is called the ἀρχη of creation and of the resurrection. The church fathers often speak of the Father as ἀρχη, πηγη, αἰτιον of Son and Spirit, Athan. C. Arianos II. Basilius, adv. Eunom. I. Damasc. de fide orthod. I 9, etc., just as Augustine also calls the Father principium totius divinitatis, de S. Trin. IV cap. 20. Thus God was the principium essendi or existendi of all that is created, thus also of science, and in particular again of the [142] theology. In this latter domain it was always expressly repeated that God was the principium essendi of theology. There was a special reason for this. No knowledge of God is possible, except only from and through God Matth. 11:27; 1 Cor. 2:10 v. It was an axiom of earlier theology: a deo discendum quid de ipso intelligendum, quia non nisi ipso auctore cognoscitur. That there is in the creature any knowledge of God, that is due only to God. He is knowable only because and insofar as He himself wills that. Already the analogy of a human being proves the truth of this. A human being is to a certain extent the principium essendi of our knowledge concerning his person, 1 Cor. 2:11; he must reveal himself, show himself to be seen by appearance, word, and deed, in order that we may be able to learn to know him somewhat. But with a human being this is always relative; he often reveals himself wholly involuntarily and against his will; he often reveals himself in traits of character and peculiarities which are unknown to himself; he sometimes also reveals himself otherwise than he is, false and untrue, etc. But all that does not occur in God. He is in an absolute sense principium essendi, causa efficiens principialis of our knowledge of God, for He is absolutely free, self-conscious, and truthful. His self-knowledge, his self-consciousness is the principium essendi of our knowledge of God. Without God’s self-consciousness no knowledge of God in the creatures. Pantheism is the death of theology. The relation now of this self-knowledge of God to our knowledge of God was formerly expressed thus, that the former was the theologia archetypa of the latter, and the latter the theology ectypa of the former. Our knowledge of God is an imprint of that knowledge which God has of himself, but then always in a creaturely sense. The knowledge of God in his creatures is only a weak likeness, a finite, limited sketch accommodated to human or creaturely consciousness, of the absolute self-consciousness of God. But however great the distance may be, the principium essendi of our knowledge of God is only God himself, who reveals himself freely, self-consciously, and truthfully.

3. From this principium essendi the principium cognoscendi is now to be distinguished. That there is theology, we owe only to God, to his self-consciousness, to his good pleasure. But the means, the way, by which that knowledge of God comes to us, is [143] God’s revelation, here still taken in an entirely general sense. The nature of the matter brings this with it. A human being becomes knowable to us only from this, that he reveals himself to us, i.e. that he gives himself to be seen, speaks, or acts. Appearance, word, and deed are the three forms of revelation of the one human being to the other. Thus it is also with the Lord our God; his knowledge too flows to us only from his revelation; and that revelation too can only be appearance, word, and deed. Principium cognoscendi of theology is therefore the self-revelation or self-communication of God to his creatures. Whether that self-revelation of God now comes individually to each human being or is laid down for the whole of humanity in Scripture or in the church, can only be investigated later. For the present, let it suffice that the self-revelation of God, by virtue of the nature of the matter, can be the only principium cognoscendi of our knowledge of God. Only let the remark be added to it, that, if that self-revelation of God is laid down in Scripture or in the church, that Scripture and that church can only have an instrumental, and thus in a certain sense accidental, transitory significance. The H. Scripture is therefore at most causa efficiens instrumentalis of theology.

For, the aim of theology can be no other than that the rational creature know God and, knowing Him, glorify Him Spr. 16:4, Rom. 11:36, 1 Cor. 8:6, Col. 3:17. It is his εὐδοκια, to be known by men Matth. 11:25, 26. The self-revelation of God therefore intends to bring his knowledge into human consciousness and thereby, through it, again to prepare glory and honour for God himself. But that self-revelation of God then also cannot end outside, before, with man, but must continue on into man himself, i.e. the revelation can not only be external but must also be internal. Therefore formerly a distinction was made between principium cognoscendi externum and internum, verbum externum and internum, revelatio and illuminatio, the working of God’s Word and of his Spirit. The verbum internum is the verbum principale, for this brings the knowledge of God into man, and that is the aim of all theology, of the whole self-revelation of God. The verbum externum, the revelation set down in the H. Scripture, thereby serves as a means; it is verbum instrumentale, necessary perhaps for all kinds of incidental reasons [144] in this dispensation, but yet by its nature temporary and accidental.

4. Thus we came to know three principia. First, God as the principium essendi of theology. Then the principium cognoscendi externum, viz. the self-revelation of God, which, insofar as it is deposited in Holy Scripture, bears an instrumental and temporal character. And finally the principium cognoscendi internum, the illumination of man by God’s Spirit. These three are one in this, that they have God as author, and that they have one and the same knowledge of God as content. The theologia archetypa in the divine consciousness; the theologia ectypa, bestowed in revelation and deposited in Holy Scripture; and the theologia in subjecto, the knowledge of God, insofar as it enters from revelation into the consciousness of man and is received, are all three from God. It is God himself who discloses his self-knowledge, communicates it through revelation, and brings it into man. And also materially they are one, for it is one and the same pure and true knowledge of God, which he has of himself, which he communicates in revelation, and which he brings into human consciousness. They may and can therefore never be separated and detached from one another. But on the other hand they nevertheless ought indeed to be distinguished. For the knowledge which God has of himself is absolute, simple, infinite, and in its absoluteness incommunicable to finite consciousness. Therefore formerly the theologia archetypa was also sometimes limited to that portion of God’s self-knowledge which he had decided to communicate to creatures. But this distinction makes the relation between theologia archetypa and theologia ectypa mechanical, and forgets that absolute lies not only in quantity, but also in quality. Nevertheless the true thought lies in it, that the theologia ectypa, which is bestowed by revelation upon creatures, is not the absolute self-knowledge of God, but that knowledge of God, as it is accommodated, adapted to and made suitable for finite consciousness, thus anthropomorphized. This theologia ectypa, which objectively lies before us in revelation, is externa but is destined to be transferred into the consciousness of rational creatures, to become theologia ectypa interna, theologia in subjecto, [145] but in that also again undergoes changes according to the nature of the subject. It is not re et ratione, but yet gradu et modo different in Christ (theol. unionis), in the angels and the blessed (theol. visionis), in men on earth (theol. viatorum, viae, revelationis) and then again among these in prophets and apostles, in theologians and laymen. It is modified in each one’s consciousness according to his capacity. But materially it is and remains nevertheless one and the same knowledge, which proceeds from God and along the way of revelation is transplanted into the consciousness of his rational creatures. These threefold principia, distinct and yet essentially one, rest in the trinitarian being of God. It is the Father, who through the Son, as Logos, in the Spirit communicates himself to his creatures. Cf. on these principia of theology: Thomas S. Theol. qu. 1; Fr. Junius, de vera theologia, Op. Omnia, Gen. 1607 I fol. 1375-1424, ed. Kuyper p. 45 sq.; Gomarus, Disput. Theol. thesis 1; Voetius, Diatribe de Theologia Ultraj. 1668; Owen, Θεολογουμενα, sive de natura, ortu ... verae theol. libri 6, Oxon. 1661; Alsted, Methodus Sacros. Theol. octo libris tradita, Hanov. 1623 I Praecognita Theol. p. 1-138, and furthermore the first chapts. on theol. in various dogmatics of Turretinus, Coccejus, Marck, Moor, Vitringa, etc. Dr. A. Kuyper, Enc. der H. Godg. II 177 v.

§ 7. Principles in Science.

A. Rationalism.

1. Science always consists in a logical relation between subject and object. The relation in which we place these two to one another determines our conception of science. At all times there have been two directions which in this respect stand diametrically opposed to one another, Rationalism and Empiricism. They already arose in Greek philosophy. Already there the antithesis was made of αἰσθησις and λογος, of sensible perception and thinking, and thus also of δοξα and ἐπιστημη. The school of Elea, Plato, the Neoplatonists stood on the side of rationalism; sensible perception gives no knowledge, it has as object changing phenomena, and teaches us only [146] to know that something is and is thus, but not why it is thus; moreover it deceives us many a time and furnishes us with false representations, e.g. the crooked stick in the water, the rising sun etc., which only by thinking can be purified of their untruth. Therefore thinking stands far above sensible perception. This alone yields us ἐπιστημη; science does not come from without, it is a product of the human spirit. In more recent philosophy this rationalistic direction has arisen again with Cartesius, who, casting everything away, finally found his firm point of departure in thinking and from that concluded to being, cogito ergo sum. Therewith the necessity of thought, the logical connection, the mathematical order of ground and consequence became in Spinoza the standard of truth. The sensible world is at most occasion but not source of our knowledge, the human spirit can bring forth all knowledge out of itself, with its own means, thinking. Nos idées, même celles des choses sensibles, viennent de notre propre fond, Leibniz, Nouveaux essais sur l’entendement humain I ch. 1. Kant has now indeed tempered this rationalism in so far as he derived not the matter but only the forms of perception from the human spirit (transcendental, critical idealism). But Fichte rightly saw that such a distinction was impossible, and therefore declared that all elements of our knowledge, even up to perception itself, were a priori and were posited by the I (absolute idealism). Now this rationalism with these philosophers was still always limited to the domain of the faculty of knowledge, and thus was only meant in erkenntniss-theoretischen sense. But this subjective rationalism was by Fichte, Schelling and Hegel extended to an objective rationalism; not only knowledge, but also being, not only the representations but also the things themselves have arisen only out of thinking, thinking and being are one (metaphysical idealism). There is progress in this history of rationalism; thinking, not sensible perception, gives truth; it brings with it in itself the principia, the semina of all knowledge; it creates the form of our world of thought (Kant), and also its matter and content (Fichte), indeed it creates and constructs the whole world, not only of thinking, but also of being. [147]

2. In whatever different forms this rationalism has also appeared, it nevertheless has always had one fundamental thought, viz. that the origin of knowledge is to be sought in the subject. It is good to understand that one arrived at this thought. For, apart from the unreliability of sensible perception, there is between the representations in us and the things outside us such an essential difference, that the former are not to be explained from the latter. Matter cannot act upon the spirit; spiritual phenomena, such as the representations are, are to be explained only from the spirit; like can only be known by like. From that it follows, that the existence and cooperation of matter and spirit, of things outside us and representations in us, either can only still be maintained by hypotheses such as occasionalism (Geulinx), the harmonia praestabilita (Leibniz), the beholding of the ideas in God (Malebranche) etc., or that simply the duality of matter and spirit must be denied, and that thing and representation, being and thinking, are regarded as essentially one. For, thus says idealism, if thing and representation are two, then we must despair of the knowledge of the thing; we can, after all, never test our representation of the thing against the thing itself; we can never get out of ourselves, out of our world of representations; nous ne pouvous nous mettre à la fenêtre, pour nous voir passer dans la rue (Scherer). We always remain within the circle of our representations and never come into contact with the thing itself, but always again with our representation of the thing; only the conscious exists for us; I can think only the thought, not the thing, think; what is not my thought is for me unthinkable, unknowable, does not exist for me. And this idealism has then been further strengthened by what the physiology of the senses now teaches. Already Democritus made a distinction between such properties as weight, density, hardness, which are objective and lie in the things themselves, and others, such as warmth, cold, taste, color, which are present only subjectively in our sensations, Zeller, Philos. der Gr. I4 783. This distinction of objective and subjective, quantitative and qualitative properties was taken over by Cartesius, Hobbes, Locke, who first called them primary and secondary properties, An essay concerning human understanding, II ch. 8 § 19 etc., and then in this century especially worked out by Helmholtz in his Handbuch der physiol. Optik, [148] Leipzig 1865-66 and Lehre von den Tonempfindungen, Braunschw. 1862, 4e Aufl. 1877, cf. also Lange, Gesch. des Mater. 4e Aufl. 1882 S. 712 f. Pierson, Gids Juni 1871. According to this so-called semi-idealism there are outside us in the world only mechanical movements of the atoms, matter is without qualities. Our senses receive only impressions through the movement and undulation of the atoms; those impressions are qualitatively alike; but in our brains we bring forth from those uniform movements the infinite diversity of the world of perception. Light, sound, color, taste, warmth, cold, all qualitative properties, which we suppose to perceive in the things, do not exist outside but arise and exist only in the human spirit. One and the same movement of matter, touching our sense of touch, makes the impression of warmth; and falling into the eye, it provides us the sensation of light. The world in its substance is not, but yet in its form is a product of man. Thus idealism has gained more and more ground in philosophy and has even received strong support from natural science.

3. Yet there are very serious objections against idealism. In the first place it is in conflict with all experience. We are by nature all realists, and the idealists themselves are so too in practice. In fact idealism is a matter, an opinion of the school, which is in direct conflict with life and experience. It does not explain how and why every human being of himself and involuntarily comes to ascribe objectivity and independent reality to the perceived phenomena, and not merely to conceive them as inner states of consciousness, while we nevertheless clearly distinguish between internal states and external things, between what is in and outside us, between dream (hallucination) and reality. To this is added that the human being is never and in no single domain autonomous, but everywhere and always dependent on the nature around him. By his body he is bound to the earth. Shelter, food, clothing he receives from it; it would be strange if intellectually it were otherwise with him. Just as we indeed prepare food and clothing with our hand, but nevertheless derive the material for it from the nature outside us, so too we receive with the intellect the material from outside. The intellect is also here [149] instrument, not source. Idealism identifies the organ with the source of knowledge, makes, as it were, the eye into the source of the light, derives thought from thinking. That, however, cannot be, because a thing and its representation, being and thinking, esse and percipi are two and cannot be identified. They are, after all, both toto genere different. A thing does not rise up in us like a dream, and also does not follow logically from preceding representations, but often comes suddenly from outside to me and breaks off the series of my representations, it is independent of me, and has an existence outside me; it has properties that cannot be ascribed to the representation of it. The thing that one calls a stove is, e.g., warm, but the representation that of that thing is in my consciousness has such a property not. If nevertheless thing and representation are identified with each other, idealism must lead to absolute illusionism; not only the world outside me becomes semblance, but I myself also am nothing but a representation, a phenomenon for myself. Everything becomes a dream, there is no reality but also no truth any more. Idealism may now exercise no influence on the action and conduct of its adherents, Land, Inleiding tot de wijsbegeerte, ’s Grav. 1889 bl. 92 v. Fr. Paulsen, Einleitung in die Philosophie, Berlin 1892, S. 363, because life is many times better and stronger than the doctrine, yet it is not to be seen how, e.g., religion and morality are still theoretically to be justified, if both are no real relations to beings existing outside me but only to representations in me. The dualism of thinking and being, from which idealism in Plato, Cartesius, Kant proceeds, then also always again turns into the identity of both in Spinoza, Fichte, Schelling and Hegel; subjective rationalism leads to absolute and objective rationalism. But abstract, contentless thinking, the most universal principle of substance, the absolute, the being, the thinking, from which idealistic philosophy then takes its point of departure, is not capable of producing rich full being. From that barren abstractum the living world, from that lifeless one the multiplicity of phenomena is not to be explained. The rock on which all pantheism is wrecked is multiplicity; no transition is to be found from the abstract to the concrete, from the general [150] to the particular. Schelling therefore also openly expressed it, dass es schwer sei an die Wirklichkeit heran zu kommen, bij Liberatore, Die Erkenntnisstheorie des h. Thomas v. Aquin, deutsch von Eugen Franz, Mainz 1861 S. VII. Finally, a distinction such as that of Kant between the form, which we ourselves bring along in perception, and the matter, which comes to us from outside, or such as that of semi-idealism between objective, primary and subjective, secondary phenomena is therefore untenable, because a boundary between both is not to be indicated. The matter of a representation belongs, as Fichte therefore also expressed, just as much to the representation as its form. And the primary quantitative properties, yes also the bodies themselves, are just as much perceived phenomena as the qualitative properties of tone and color etc. There exists no reason to accept the testimony of one sense, touch, and to reject that of the other four, and thus to make an exception only for the properties of extension, hardness etc. There is no objection to ascribe to the forms of perception, time and space, and to the categories of thinking also objective reality in the things themselves. And the physiology of the senses does not prevent us from seeing precisely in the different quantitative relations and movements the objective ground of the qualitative phenomena, F. Pillon, L’évolution historique de l’idéalisme, de Démocrite à Locke, in L’année philosophique, sous la direction de F. Pillon 3e année, Paris, Alcan, 1893, p. 77-212. Georges Lyon, L’idéalisme en Angleterre au 18e siècle, Paris, Alcan, 1888. Dr. Glossner, Der moderne Idealismus, Münster 1880. Ernst Laas, Idealismus und Positivismus, 3 Theile Berlin 1879 f. E. von Hartmann, Kritische Grundlegung des transcendentalen Realismus, Berlin 1885. Id. Das Grundproblem der Erkenntniss-theorie, Leipzig, Bd. I Abth. 2 van de Ausgewählte Werke, S. 40 f. Id. Neukantianismus, Schopenhaueranismus und Hegelianismus, Berlin 1877. Stöckl, Lehrbuch der Philos. 6e Aufl. I 363 f. E. L. Fischer, die Grundfragen der Erkentniss-theorie 1887 S. 49 f. Id. Theorie der Gesichtswahrnemung, Mainz, Kirchheim 1891. Al Schmid, Erkenntnisslehre 2 Bde. Freiburg 1890 II 134-141. L. Strümpell, Die Einleitung in die Philosophie, Leipzig, 1886, S. 165 f. Paulsen, Einleitung in die Philos. Berlin 1892 S. 354 f. C. A. [151] Thilo, Die Wissenschaftlichkeit der modernen specul. Theol. 1851 S. 1-48. Flügel, Die specul. Theol. der Gegenwart 1888. J. T. Beck, Vorlesungen über Chr. Glaubenslehre, I 1887, S. 44 f. F. J. Stahl, Philos. des Rechts, 5e Aufl. 1878 I 90 f. Nathusius, Das Wesen der Wissenschaft, Leipzig 1885, S. 265 f. Gretillat, Exposé de théol. systém. 1885 I p. 63 s. Pierson, Contemplation, authority and experience, 1855, cap. 1 § 1. Opzoomer, Science and Philosophy, 1857, hoofdst. 1. Land, Inleiding tot de wijsbeg. 1889, bl. 82 v. Bilderdijk, Treatises, concerning the doctrine of the soul, morals, and law, 1821 bl. 121 v: on causality, bl. 141 v. of the human understanding, etc.

B. Empiricism.

4. Diametrically opposed to Rationalism stands Empiricism, which already among the Greeks had its forerunners in the Atomists, then in the Middle Ages appeared as Nominalism, subsequently as a philosophical direction in modern times made its entrance with Fr. Bacon, and, over Locke, Hume and the French Encyclopaedists, in this century has issued in the Positivism of A. Comte, the experiential philosophy of Stuart Mill, the Agnosticism of H. Spencer and the Materialism of Büchner, Czolbe, Moleschott etc. Empiricism too appears in different forms and systems, but nevertheless always has this principle as its point of departure, that only sense-perception is the source of our knowledge. While rationalism lets the objective world be directed wholly or in part according to the human mind, empiricism subjects consciousness wholly and entirely to the world outside us. In the striving after knowledge, man brings with him nothing except only the capacity of perceiving; from that all intellectual activity takes its beginning and origin. There are therefore no innate concepts; all preconceived opinions the scientific investigator must set aside. From the temple of truth, which he wishes to build up in his consciousness, he must remove all idola; no anticipatio mentis, but interpretatio naturae, mera experientia must guide him (Bacon). The human mind is and must be a tabula rasa, in qua nihil scriptum est, completely voraussetzungslos. Only then is knowledge reliable, if it is built up solely and exclusively from observation [152]. Begriffe ohne Anschauungen sind leer. The further man removes himself from experience and goes beyond it, the less he is to be trusted in his scientific striving. Therefore there is also no science possible of the supersensible (noumena) and of the supernatural. Metaphysica, theology, the spiritual sciences in general, even according to Comte psychology, are no science in the proper sense. Science is limited to the sciences exactes. And even within the circle of the observable phenomena our knowledge is limited to the that and how; the what and the why remains hidden. Cause and end, origin and destination of things lie beyond our reach; only the mutual relation of things, the relations invariables de succession et de similitude, A. Comte, Cours de philos. positive I p. 8 s. are the object of scientific investigation. Whether behind and above the observable phenomena there is still something else, whether the soul, God, the jenseits exists, may perhaps by another way, through practical reason, faith, fantasy etc. be able to be made plausible, but scientifically all that is and remains a terra incognita. The goal of science therefore can no longer lie in this, that one give a Welterklärung, but extends only to such a knowledge of reality, that we can thereafter arrange our life and draw practical benefit from it. Savoir, c’est prévoir; science, d’où prévoyance; prévoyance, d’où action. But this absolute bondage of the mind to the world of observation, has led others to the attempt, to explain not only the content of thought of the mind, but also consciousness and the mind itself from the world; empiricism has ended in materialism. Here too, therefore, progress, history, development is to be noted. First the content of thought, then the faculty, finally also the substance of the mind is derived from the material world. E. Laas, Idealismus und Positivismus, 3 Bde 1879-84. Kuno Fischer, Francis Bacon und seine Nachfolger, 2e Aufl. Leipzig 1875. A. Comte, Cours de philosophie positive, 2e ed. 1861-64. Die positive Philosophie von A. Comte, im Auszuge von Jules Rig, übersetzt von J. H. von Kirchmann, Heidelberg, Weiss, 2 Bde. Littré, Aug. Comte et la philosophie positive, Paris 1863. Id. Analyse raisonnée du Cours de philos. positive de M. A. Comte, Utrecht, Kemink [153] 1845. J. Stuart Mill, Aug. Comte et le Positivisme, fransche vert. door Clémenceau, Paris 1868. Henri Taine, De l’intelligence, 2 vol. 3e ed. Paris, Hachette, 1878. l’Ange Huet, De methode der posit. filosofie, Leiden 1866. Id. New solution of an old question, Leiden 1872. General foundations of the positive philosophy by A. Comte, ’s Hage, 1846 (contains the first two lessons from Comte’s work). Pünjer in Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1878 S. 79-121. 1882 S. 385-404. (Bibl. voor mod. Theol. 1883 bl. 243 v). H. Gruber, A. Comte, der Begründer des Positivismus, Freiburg. Id. Der Positivismus von A. Comte bis auf unsere Tage 1857-91, Freiburg 1891. Herzog2 art. Positivismus, van Zöckler. J. Stuart Mill, System of Logic, ratiocinative and inductive, 2 Bde 9th ed. Lond. 1875, duitsche vert. van Gomperz, 2e Aufl. Leipzig 1884. Opzoomer, The way of science, a handbook of logic 1851, 3rd revised printing under the title The essence of knowledge, a textbook of logic 1863. Id. Science and philosophy 1857. Id. The truth and its sources of knowledge 1859. Pierson, Reflection, authority and experience 1855. Id. A view of life 1875 bl. 65 v. H. Spencer, A. system of synthetic philosophy, Vol. I First principles, 5th ed. Williams and Norgate, London 1887. F. A. Lange, Geschichte des Materialismus, 4e Aufl. Iserlohn 1882. L. Büchner, Kraft und Stoff, 16e Aufl. Leipzig 1888 etc.

5. This empiricism does indeed have a powerful support in man’s dependence on the nature surrounding him, but is nevertheless also burdened by weighty objections. In the first place it is certain that the spirit of man in his intellectual activity is never passive or even receptive in an absolute sense, but always also acts actively to a greater or lesser degree. For it is not the eye that sees and the ear that hears, but man himself, who sees through the eye and hears through the ear. The simplest sensation and representation already presupposes consciousness, and thus an activity of the soul. Tabula rasa, on which the external world can write what it will, the human spirit never is; it is itself that perceives, connects the perceptions, compares, judges. But there is more; Kant, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, Einleitung § 2 rightly says: Erfahrung lehrt uns zwar, dass etwas so oder so beschaffen sei, aber nicht, [154] dass es nicht anders sein könne. Now, however, we have not only particular and contingent, but also general and necessary truths, in logic, mathesis, etc., which the empiricists have in vain tried to derive from experience. The principle of causality e.g. has in truth been called the bulwark of the intuitive school; and all the effort that has been expended to explain this principle and foundation of all science from volition, from habit, etc. has been fruitless, Dr. G. Heijmans, Schets eener kritische gesch. van het causaliteitsbegrip in de nieuwere wijsbegeerte, Leiden, Brill 1890. Dr. E. Koenig, Die Entwicklung des Causalproblems von Cartesius bis Kant, Leipzig, Wigand 1888. Spruyt, Proeve van eene geschiedenis van de leer der aangeboren begrippen, Leiden, Brill 1879. Yes, all sciences proceed from a series of unproved and unprovable propositions, which are assumed a priori and serve as a point of departure for all reasoning and proof. Aristotle already saw this; there is no regressus in infinitum; precisely in order to have probative force, the proofs must finally rest in a proposition that needs no proof, that rests in itself, and that therefore can serve as ἀρχη ἀποδειξεως, principium argumentationis, Zeller, Philos. der Gr. III 190 f. 235 f. Schopenhauer, Die Welt als Wille u. Vorstellung, 6e Aufl. Leipzig 1887 I 78. A building cannot stand in the air, and a line of reasoning can rest only on a foundation that lies firm by evidence, and not by proof. The point of departure of empiricism is hereby judged, but also its conception of science is subject to serious objection. For it belongs to science by its nature to provide knowledge of the general, the necessary and eternal, the logical, the idea. Knowledge of phenomena, persons, facts, etc. is good, but is nevertheless only a preparatory labour; analysis should go before, but the synthesis must follow. Science exists only then, when we see through things in their cause and essence, in their goal and destination, when we know not only the ὁτι but also the διοτι and thus rerum dignoscimus causas. Empiricism, however, is compelled to deny to all sciences the name of science and to leave this only for the sciences exactes. But this limitation is impossible for a twofold reason. First because, besides, and then still [155] only in a certain sense, the purely formal sciences (logic, mathesis, mechanics, astronomy, chemistry) no science is possible without a philosophical element, and thus in every science discovery, intuition, imagination, i.e. in a word genius and in connection therewith the scientific hypothesis occupies a very weighty place. And secondly, because the name of science can then in the end be retained only for a few subsidiary disciplines, and precisely that knowledge which for man is the most important and for which he is concerned in investigation in the first place, is banished from the domain of science. It nevertheless remains true, what following the example of Aristotle, Ethic. 10,7; de part. an. 1,5; de coelo et mundo 2,5. Thomas Aquinas said S. Theol. I qu. 1 art. 5, ad. 1, Minimum quod potest haberi de cognitione rerum altissimarum, desiderabilius est quam certissima cognitio, quae habetur de minimis rebus. And Schopenhauer spoke in a similar spirit: Sie hören nicht auf, die Zuverlässigkeit und Gewissheit der Mathematik zu rühmen. Aber was hilft es mir, noch so gewiss und zuverlässig zu wissen, daran mir gar nichts gelegen ist, bij Van Oosterzee, voor Kerk en Theol. I 101. Moreover, the world of spiritual things, the Welt der Werthe, of good and evil, right and custom, religion and morality, of all that inspires us with love and hate, lifts us up and comforts or also casts down and pains, that whole rich invisible world is just as much for us a reality as the Welt der Wirklichkeit, which we perceive with our senses. Its power over our life and in the history of mankind is much greater still than that of the visible things around us. One may then freely impose upon man the demand that he limit himself in his investigation because on this terrain no knowledge is possible; that demand rebounds upon what Schopenhauer has called das metaphysische Bedürfniss of the human spirit. Man is not only an intellectual but also a willing and feeling being; he is no thinking-machine but has, besides his head, also a heart, a world of emotions and passions. These he brings with him in his scientific investigation; in his activity in study and laboratory he cannot exclude himself. It cannot be a demand that man in scientific labour, that is, in one of the noblest and highest activities of his spirit, impose silence upon his disposition, upon his heart, upon the best that is in him [156] and thus mutilate himself. This alone may always and thus also of the practitioner of science be demanded, that he be a good, a true man, a man of God, unto every good work, also unto this work of science, suitably equipped (verg. boven bl. 29). If, however, one limits science both in a subjective and in an objective sense, one will obtain nothing else than that nevertheless along other paths provision for the metaphysical need is sought. Kant took the path of the practische Vernunft, Comte introduced a service of humanity and devoted himself as high priest, Spencer bows down in humility before The Unknowable. All seek in one way or another, even into spiritism, magic, theosophy, compensation for what science does not grant them. And religion with all spiritual knowledge, first contemptuously driven out at the front door, is, but then many times in superstitious form, again admitted at the back door. Naturam expellas furcâ, tamen usque recurret. The inevitable consequence is then only this, that science is left undefended and unarmed to materialism. To that empiricism has in fact also led. If the content and presently also the intellectual faculty of the soul comes wholly and entirely from the external world, why then should not also the substance of the soul in the end be able to be explained from it? Over against this, however, there still stand the „sieben Welträthsel” as a torment and an offence for materialistic thinking. The spiritual has not yet been explained from the material, just as little as rationalism has succeeded in deriving being from thinking. The transition between the two has not been found. Here is a chasm, which neither idealism nor materialism can bridge. It is even not rash to speak here not only of an Ignoramus but also of an Ignorabimus. But when we see how empiricism and rationalism, despite the great promises and the still greater expectations, in this century have ended in nothing other than materialism and illusionism, and in spite of their opposition have nevertheless promoted and assisted one another —the idealism of Hegel ended with Feuerbach and Strauss in materialism, and materialism with many investigators of nature again passes over into half or whole idealism,— then in any case there is indeed reason to ask whether revision is not necessary of the whole [157] of modern philosophy, both in its Cartesian and in its Baconian direction; whether there are not other and better principia of science, which preserve us from both materialism and idealism? Schopenhauer, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, 6e Aufl. 1887, I 505 f. II 192 f. E. v. Hartmann, Naturwissenschaft u. Philosophie, Gesammelte Studien und Aufsätze, Berlin 1876, S. 421 f. E. L. Fischer, Die Grundfragen der Erkenntnisstheorie, Mainz 1887, S. 314 f. Schmid, Erkenntnisslehre, Freiburg 1890 I 111 f. 243 f. II 13 f. Stöckl, Lehrb. der Philos. I 345 f. Paulsen, Einl. in die Philos. 394 f. Strümpell, Einl. in die Philos. 75 f. W. Dilthey, Einleitung in die Geisteswissenschaften, Leipzig, Duncker u. Humblot 1883. Emil du Roys-Reymond, Uber die Grenzen des Naturerkennens. Die sieben Welträthsel. Leipzig, Veit u. C. 1882. Pressensé, Les Origines, Paris Fischbacher 1883 p. 1-128. P. Vallet, Le Kantisme et le Positivisme, Paris 1887. Gretillat, Exposé de théol. systém. I p. 42 s. D. Chantepie de la Saussaye, Leven en Rigting 1865. Id. Empirisch of ethisch (Ernst en Vrede. 1858 bl. 193 v.) enz.

C. Realism.

6. The point of departure of epistemology ought to be ordinary, daily experience, the general and natural certainty of man concerning the objectivity and truth of his knowledge. For philosophy does not create the faculty of knowledge and knowing, but finds it and now attempts to explain it; and every solution which does not explain the faculty of knowledge but destroys it, and does not understand knowing but makes it into an illusion, is thereby judged. Only such an epistemology has a chance of success, which on the one hand does not leave the ground of experience but on the other hand also penetrates into the whole depth of the problem, Prior homo, quam philosophus vel poeta, Tertull. de test. an 5. Primum vivere, deinde philosophari. Natural certainty is the indispensable foundation of science. Scientific knowing is not a destruction but a purification, extension, completion of ordinary knowing, Kaftan, Die Wahrheit der Chr. Rel. Basel, 1889 S. 317 f. For every man assumes the reliability of the senses and the existence of the external world, not by a logical conclusion from the operation, in casu the representation [158] in his consciousness, to the cause outside himself, nor also by a reasoning from the resistance which his will experiences, to an objective reality which offers that resistance; but before all reflection and reasoning each is fully assured of the real existence of the world. This certainty is not born from a syllogism and rests on no proof, but is immediate, arising spontaneously in me with perception itself, not product but foundation and point of departure of all other certainty. Denn die ganze Welt der Reflexion ruht und wurzelt auf der anschaulichen Welt, Schopenhauer, Welt als W. u. V. 6e Aufl. I 78. Only, in this connection, a distinction must indeed be made between the certainty which is at once given with the actual perception of an object, and that which later, after the perception has long since passed, follows from the representation that has remained behind. Only the first is treated of here, and this is not a conclusion from a reasoning, but is immediately present in me with perception itself. Cf. Ed. Zeller, Ueber die Gründe unseres Glaubens an die Realität der Aussenwelt 1884. E. L. Fischer, Die Grundfragen der Erkenntnisstheorie 1887 S. 392 f. Paulsen, Einl. in die Philos. 385 f. Flügel, Die Probleme der Philosophie und ihre Lösungen, Cöthen, Schulze, 2e Aufl. 1888 S. 104 f. Schmid, Erkenntnisslehre 1890 II 307 f. Land, Inl. tot de wijsbeg. bl. 97 v. enz.

7. This one fact already, the natural certainty concerning the reliability of the senses and the reality of the external world, proves that there exists yet another certainty than scientific, demonstrative certainty. The empiricists have wrongly denied this. Experience teaches only that something is, but not that it must be, teaches us only the contingent, the changeable, makes reality known to us. We, however, also have general, necessary truths, of which we are certain not by observation and reasoning, but a priori. Most philosophers have therefore, alongside the scientific or mediate, also assumed a metaphysical, intuitive, immediate certainty, also called a certainty of faith, of evidence. Aristotle was the first clearly to see that the ἐπιστημη in the last instance is built upon unprovable, evident truths. Some, such as Plato, Cartesius, Leibniz, Rosmini, have sought to explain this unchangeable, eternal character of truth by [159] the doctrine of innate ideas, cf. Spruyt, Proeve van eene gesch. van de leer der aangeb. begrippen, Leiden 1879. But this doctrine rests on an untenable dualism of subject and object, makes the human spirit independent of the cosmos, is in principle rationalistic and leads logically and also historically to absolute idealism. This was the reason why the doctrine of the ideae innatae was unanimously rejected by the scholastic and also by the Reformed theologians, Spruyt ib. 57-60. Frohschammer, Die Philosophie des Thomas von Aquino, Leipzig, Brockhaus 1889 S. 44 f. Liberatore, Die Erkenntnisstheorie des H. Thomas v. Aquin, deutsch von Eugen Franz, Mainz 1861 S. 130 f. Polanus, Synt. Theol. p. 325. Zanchius, Opera III 636 sq. Voetius combats the doctrine of Cartesius expressly in his Disput. Sel. V 477-525. They even adopted the empiricist proposition: nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu, and spoke of the human being before he perceives as of a tabula rasa, in qua nihil scriptum est, Thomas S. Theol. I qu. 79 art. 2. Voetius, Disp. V 459, 525. And they maintained this, because the human being, in distinction from the angels, is bodily, his body is not a prison but belongs to his nature and he is through that body bound to the cosmos, Thomas ib. I qu. 84 art. 3. qu. 85 art. 1. Voetius ib. V 483. They have thus on the one hand rejected rationalism as decisively as possible, not only in the form of the innate concepts, in which it was taught by Plato, Cartesius, Leibniz, but also in that of the innate forms, in which it appeared with Kant, and in that of the innate idea of being, in which it emerged with Rosmini and the ontologists. But on the other hand the above-mentioned expressions nevertheless may not be understood in the sense of Locke’s empiricism. If Thomas calls the human spirit a tabula rasa, then he by no means intends thereby to deny that nevertheless ipse intellectus is innate to him. Leibniz added to the maxim nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu, the restriction nisi ipse intellectus. Thomas expresses himself still more precisely: species aliorum intelligibilium non sunt ei innatae, sed essentia sua sibi innata est, ut non eam necesse habeat a phantasmatibus acquirere, qu. de mente art. 8 ad 1 cf. Liberatore, ib. 144. And Voetius explains the above-mentioned maxim thus, that thereby it is not excluded that the intellect in the sensibly perceived world [160] can also notice and know the eternal and unchangeable, e.g. in the works of nature also their author, namely God. And this is then also the proper thought of their Erkenntnisstheorie: the human spirit is not able and in any case not in the position, outside the sensible world, out of its own fund, with its own means, to bring forth the knowledge of things, not even the knowledge of the principia aeterna, κοιναι ἐννοιαι. It is from the outset bound to the body and thereby to the cosmos, and therefore the intellectus too can come to no activity except through and on the basis of the sensus. The intellectus is at the beginning pure potentia, tabula rasa, without any content, and is first from without by the sensible world awakened to activity, to actuality. The impulse thus proceeds from the sensible world; this acts upon the human spirit, rouses it awake, and urges it to action. But as soon as the intellectus begins to work, it at once and of itself also works in its own way and according to its own nature. And the nature of the intellectus consists in this, that it possesses the vis, facultas, inclinatio, aptitudo, in and with perception at once, of itself, involuntarily, sine ullo labore, sine praevio studio, sine ratiocinatione to form those basic concepts and basic principles which stand firm a priori, before every reasoning and before all proof, and therefore deserve to be called veritates aeternae. Thus thinking itself, as soon as it begins to work, of itself feels itself bound to the laws of thought; in thinking itself the laws of thought lie enclosed and come to light. Thus experience teaches us what a part and what a whole is, but the intellect at once understands that a whole is greater than its part. Thus experience teaches us what is good and what is evil, but the intellectus practicus knows immediately that the one must be done and the other must be omitted. This does not mean that every human being can now also give clear account to himself or others of these basic concepts and basic principles; but every human being, even the simplest, nevertheless applies these basic concepts and basic principles, without any scientific reflection, unconsciously and with the greatest certainty in life. The difference between this doctrine of the faculty of knowledge and that of rationalism and empiricism lies in these two: first, in a peculiar conception of the intellectus, which brings with it a proper nature and correspondingly [161] also begins to work in a proper way, and second, in this, that this intellectus, thus working according to its own nature, nevertheless does nothing other than abstract that logical element from the perceived things, which by nature also lies hidden in those things. Rationalism, as it were, compels the things to conform to the intellect, fits them into forms of which it does not know whether they fit them, constructs the world according to a play of concepts. Empiricism compels the spirit to conform to the sensible world, clips it in its ideal flight, and finally explains it itself out of matter. But the Erkenntnisstheorie, which has gradually arisen in Christian theology and in its main lines was first conceived by Augustine, maintains both, the freedom and the boundness of the human spirit; the freedom to ascend to the world of the ideal, the boundness by which it also in this its flight does not lose the world of reality from under its feet.

8. The point of departure of all knowledge in man is therefore sense-perception. Οὐδε νοει ὁ νους τα ἐκτος μη μετ’ αἰσθησεως ὀντα, Arist. de sensu c. 6, Zeller Philos. d. Gr. III 198. All intellectual cognition begins from sense, Thomas S. Theol. I. qu. 84 art. 1 en 7. Our intellect understands nothing without a phantasm, id. C. Gent. III 41. And all Christian theologians were of the same thought. The error of scholasticism, among Protestants as well as Roman Catholics, lay only in this, that it was finished with observation far too early and thought it had been almost completely, in every field of science, taken up and laid down in the books of Euclid, Aristotle, the church fathers, the confession. In that opinion one neglected observation and began at once with the concepts already obtained, Spruyt, Proeve 36. Therefore it could almost be called a discovery, when Bacon returned to sense-perception as to the only source of knowledge. Yet it was no discovery, but indeed a necessary refreshment for science, for this must always return again to the sources. Not from books, but from the real world must truth be drawn. Intuition is the source of all genuine science. Die Anschauungen sind die Kontanten, die Begriffe die Zettel, Schopenhauer, Die Welt u. s. w. 6e Aufl. II 76 cf. 76-98. Now in this sense-perception each [162] sense has its own nature and its own task; each seeks out in the phenomena what is akin; the sense of touch makes known to us the mechanical, taste and smell make known to us the chemical properties, hearing opens to us the world of tones and sight that of colors, Arist. bij Zeller, Philos. d. Gr. III 533 f. Thomas, S. Theol. I qu. 78 art. 3. Schopenhauer, Die Welt u. s. w. II 30-36. Land, Inleiding 63 v. Bilderdijk, Taal-en Dichtk. Verscheidenheden, 1821 II 39 v. Verhandelingen, ziel-, zede- en rechtsleer betreffende 1821 bl. 12 v. Brieven V 48. The senses therefore each by itself do not perceive the whole object, but only certain properties of that object. The perceptual image that arises in our consciousness is composed of many different impressions, which, received by the different senses, transmitted along the nerve fibers into our brains, there in an inexplicable way converted into sensations, and connected into a whole. There are no simple sensations; they are all already composed out of various others; every object that we see, every tone that we hear is already a complex of perceptions. The human mind is therefore already active in the simplest perceptions; it is no tabula rasa, on which the external world merely writes what it will, no mirror, in which the object is simply reflected. But every perceptual image is formed in consciousness itself out of the factors that are supplied from the object by the different senses. Therefore the question is of such great importance, what the relation is between the perceptual image, the representation (φαντασια, φαντασμα, species sensibilis, perception, Vorstellung) in our consciousness and reality, the object, outside us. Greek philosophy in general proceeded from the thought that like could only be known by like; φασι γαρ γιγνωσκεσθαι το ὁμοιον τῳ ὁμοιῳ, Arist. de an. I 2. Some inferred from that that the soul of man had to consist of the same elements and atoms as the real world, and that in perception material atoms from the objects penetrated into the soul. Aristotle, however, understood this thus, that the soul is not actually but potentially all that is thought —ἡ ψυχη τα ὀντα πως ἐστι παντα, de an. III, 8— and that the objects by perception and thinking acquired an ideal existence in the soul. Scholasticism adopted this and [163] said: the known is in the knower according to the mode of knowing, not according to the mode of the known, i.e. the things themselves do not pass over into the soul, but only their image, their form, εἰδος, forma, species, similitudo, Thomas S. Theol. I qu. 75. I 2 qu. 5 art. 5. II 2 qu. 23 art. 6 ad 1. S. c. Gent. I 77 II 77, 98. There is therefore on the one hand an essential difference between the thing and its representation, for the former is outside us, has there a real existence, but the latter exists in us and has only an ideal existence. But on the other hand there was nevertheless also a complete correspondence; the representation is an image, a faithful ideal reproduction of the object outside us. Modern philosophy, however, attending to the activity of man’s consciousness in the forming of perceptual images, has dug an ever wider gulf between thing and representation. The perceptual images are no species, formae, but at most still signs, symbols, diagrams of the external world, freely formed in our mind on the occasion of the modifications that are brought about from without through the senses and nerves into our brain cells. If this is so, the objective world disappears ever further from our sight; it dissolves into appearance; for a checking of the perceptual image against reality is therefore impossible, since we can never approach it, and the perceptual image always inserts itself between it and us, Land, Inleiding 71, and the earlier cited litt. The error that underlies this theory seems to be this, that the proper object of our perception would not be the thing outside us, but some impression or vibration of our nerves in us. Now it is certainly true that no representation can be formed in our consciousness without vibrations being transmitted in the nerves to our brain cells. But neither the image that is cast on the retina of the eye, nor the modifications in the brain cells as a result of the nerve vibrations are the cause from which the sensation and representation in our consciousness arises. All psychometric investigations, however important, have not brought us one step nearer toward an explanation of this wondrous phenomenon. We stand here before a, as it seems, insoluble riddle. The nerve vibrations can be traced into the center of the brain; their strength and speed can be calculated; [164] but the representation that thereafter arises in our consciousness is toto genere different from that. It is a psychic, spiritual act, never to be explained from physical phenomena, such as the nerve vibrations are. Thus the representations cannot be products that are produced in our consciousness by the nerve vibrations, ourselves unconscious of it. And they also cannot be conscious creations of our mind, on the occasion of the modifications in our brain cells, for the simple reason that no one knows anything at all of this whole process of nerve vibrations in perception, and only by deliberate physiological investigation acquires knowledge of it. In addition, the nerve vibrations and modifications in the brain cells sometimes indeed, in seeing without noticing, in hearing without understanding, etc. proceed wholly and purely mechanically, but that they nevertheless in actual perceiving are always already accompanied by a psychic act. It does not go so that the nerve vibrations are first transmitted into our brains, and that only thereafter consciousness awakens and forms the representation out of those modifications in the brain cells; but perception itself through the senses is an act of consciousness. It is the spirit of man that sees through the eye and hears through the ear. The object of perception is therefore not any phenomenon in me, but the thing outside me. The same spirit that sees the object is also the one that forms the representation. Both are psychic acts. Therefore there is also no reason to doubt that in the representations we have a faithful, ideal reproduction of the objects outside us. In that connection it is to a certain extent immaterial whether we call the representations εἶδη, species, formae, signs, symbols, etc. of the things; for these words too are images, and for the most part borrowed from visual perception. Provided only that it stands firm that the representations in their whole and in their parts are faithful interpretations of the world of reality outside us.

9. But the human spirit does not stop with these representations. Scientific knowledge does not arise from the senses but from the intellect. Not mere observation, but serious reflection on the observed phenomena have made Copernicus the father of astronomy and Newton the [165] discoverer of gravitation. The observation of phenomena is necessary and good, but it is not the only and the highest. The object of science is not the particular but the universal, the logical, the idea. Greek philosophy had already seen this. Socrates was the first who, with consciousness, conceived the idea of knowing and made it the principle of his philosophy; science is knowledge, not of appearance, but of the essence of things, Xenophon, Memor. IV, 6.1. Plato distinguished between δοξα, which had as its content ordinary, empirical knowledge, and ἐπιστημη, which had as its content the truly being of things, Rep. V 476 D-478 D. Sympos. 202 A etc. And Aristotle defined science in the same sense as knowledge του ὀντος, του καθολου, των πρωτων αἰτιων και ἀρχων (places in Zeller, Philos. d. Gr. III 161 f). Augustine in particular placed this intellectual knowledge in the foreground. He does not reject knowledge through the senses, he defends its truth against the Academici in a separate writing, and acknowledges that we understand the invisibilia Dei per ea quae facta sunt, de Gen. ad. litt. 4,32. But he nevertheless undervalues its worth, like Plato; the sensible yields only δοξα, c. Acad. 3,26, it is not the truth itself, it is only an image of it, Solil. 2,32. Knowledge of nature is without value, nihil prodest, Conf. 5,7. 10,55. Enchir. 3,5. There are really only two things that it is important to know, God and ourselves: deum et animam scire cupio. Nihilne plus? Nihil omnino, Solil. 1,7. And he obtains this knowledge not by looking outward, but by looking inward; noli foras ire, in te ipsum redi, in interiore homine habitat veritas, de vera relig. c. 39 n. 72; not by sensible observation but by thinking; aliud est sentire, aliud nosse, de ord. 2,5. cf. Solil. 2,33. Scholasticism, attaching itself more closely to Aristotle, has better seen the value of sensible observation, but has nevertheless also fully acknowledged the significance of the intellectus for science. Thomas expressed this briefly and clearly as follows, scientia non est singularium, S. Theol. I qu. 1 art. 2, intellectus est universalium, S. c. Gent. I c. 44. Science has as its object the universal and necessary, S. Theol. I qu. 14 art. 13 ad 3. I qu. 84 art. 1 ad 2. I qu. 86 art. 1 en 3, and can therefore be provided only by the intellectus. For while sensible [166] observation considers things quantum ad exteriora ejus accidentia, it is precisely the distinctive feature of the intellectus that it penetrates ad interiora rei, S. c. Gent. I 58. III 56. IV 11, penetrat ad essentiam rei, S. Theol. II. 2 qu. 8 art. 1. Its proper object is the quidditas rei materialis, S. Theol. I qu. 85 art. 5 ad 3. The intellect, namely, as intellectus agens, that is, as a power of abstraction, as we would call it, separates the universal from the sensible representations; it lets the particular fall away from them, it shines over them as a light, makes them intelligible, lets the universal become knowable from them, and then, as intellectus possibilis, i.e. as an intellectual cognitive faculty, takes that universal into itself and makes it the property of the spirit, S. Theol. I qu. 79 art. 3 en 4. I qu. 84 art. 6. S. c. Gent. II 76.77. III 45.

Now in fact there is as yet no difference on this point, that not sensible perception but the understanding is the organ of science. Empiricism too has not denied this. Bacon, Hume, St. Mill fully acknowledge that sensible perception is indeed the first but not the only thing and that the understanding by induction seeks to derive the general from the particular. Bacon was concerned precisely with a reliable method, according to which from particular observations generally valid judgments could be formed. But with the concepts which the understanding forms from the representations, the question returns with double seriousness, which above was already asked with the perceptual images: what is the relation between these concepts of the understanding and the world of reality? And here Nominalism and Realism diverge. Both directions occur in the essence of the matter already in Greek philosophy. Plato and Aristotle were realists, be it also with distinction; and the actual thought of nominalism we find already, inter alia, in the Cynic philosopher Antisthenes, who denied the reality of the general concepts and said against Plato: ἱππον μεν ὁρῶ, ἱπποτητα δε οὐχ ὁρω, Zeller, Philos. der Gr. II4 295, and in the Stoic philosophers, who held the ἐννοηματα, the thoughts, only for φαντασματα διανοιας, ib. IV3 79. 125. In the Middle Ages this view of the general concepts was renewed and it received the name of nominalism. Roscellinus was of the opinion that the general concepts were only flatus vocis, thought-things, [167] to which no reality corresponds; in reality there are no general but only particular, individual things, there is no humanity but there are only human beings etc. The struggle between realism and nominalism continued until the 15th century. Cf. A. Stöckl, Gesch. der Philos. des Mittelalters. 3 Bde Mainz 1864-66 I 135 f. II 986 f. Hauréau, De la philosophie scolastique, 2 vol. Paris 1850. Schwane, Dogmengeschichte der mittl. Zeit. Freiburg 1882 S. 4 f. Furthermore history of the dogmas by Bach, Thomasius, Münscher, Baur, Harnack etc., hist. of philos. by Ueberweg, Erdmann, Windelband etc. A. Pierson, De realismo et nominalismo 1855. Id. Hist. of the R.-Catholic. III 1871 p. 53 v. 87 v. 183 v. Spruyt, Proeve 66 v. But even after that the question has not departed from philosophy. The dispute between realism and nominalism is not a point of contention of scholastic subtlety, but of deep-reaching significance. Nominalism has appeared again in newer form as empiricism in modern philosophy, Spruyt, Proeve passim. Hugo Spitzer, Nominalismus und Realismus in der neuesten deutschen Philosophie mit Berücksichtigung ihres Verhältnisses zur modernen Naturwissenschaft. Leipzig 1876. Janet, Traité élémentaire de philos. Paris, Delagrave 1887 p. 162 s. Land, Inleiding 107 v. Pierson, Wijsgeerig Onderzoek. Deventer, ter Gunne 1882 p. 200 v. If now nominalism has the right on its side, it is the end of all science. For one of two: if we can summarize the corresponding characteristics of a group of things in a concept and word, then this happens either without ground and those words and concepts represent no value in reality; or the things resemble one another in reality and have common characteristics. In this case, however, the concepts are not empty thought-things, but the sum of essential properties of the things, and thus not nomina but res. Therefore realism too without doubt was right, when it assumed the reality of the general concepts, not in a Platonic or ontological sense ante rem, but in an Aristotelian sense in re, and therefore also in mente hominis post rem. The general, which we express in the concept, does not exist precisely thus, as universale, outside us (cf. above p. 23); but in each specimen of the species particularly individualized and specialized, it nevertheless has its ground in the things and is abstracted from them by the activity of the understanding and expressed in a concept, Thomas, S. Theol. I qu. 85 art. 2 ad 2. S. c. Gent. I 65. With the concepts we therefore do not remove ourselves from reality, but approach it more and more. It does indeed seem that we, forming concepts and judgments and conclusions, more and more lose the firm ground under the building of our knowledge and float high in the air. It seems strange and wonderful that we, converting the representations into concepts and then again processing these according to the laws of thinking, obtain results that are in agreement with reality. And yet whoever gives up this conviction is lost, Land, Inleiding p. 250. But that conviction can then also rest only in the faith that it is one and the same Logos that created both the reality outside us and the laws of thinking within us, and that set both in organic connection with and let them correspond to each other. Thus alone is science possible, i.e. knowledge not only of the changing appearance but of the general, of the logical in things. Certainly, the being itself of things, their existence, remains outside us; never do the things themselves realiter enter into us; being is therefore never to be approached by us, it is a factum that must be accepted and that constitutes the foundation of thinking. But insofar as things also exist logically, have proceeded from thought and rest in thought Joh. 1:3, Col. 1:15, they are also comprehensible and thinkable for the human spirit.

10. Plato clarified this process of science by means of a beautiful and striking image. Just as the sun objectively illuminates the object and subjectively our eye, so God or the idea of the good is the light by which the truth, the being of things, becomes visible and at the same time our mind can behold and acknowledge that truth, cf. Siebeck, Geschichte der Psychologie, I Theil, 2 Abth. Gotha, Perthes 1880, ’84 I 226. Aristotle, ib. II 70. Augustine adopted this image: God is the sun of minds. In the unchangeable light of truth our mind sees and judges about everything, in ipsa incommutabili veritate mens rationalis et intellectualis intuetur, eaque luce de his omnibus judicat, de Gen. ad litt. L. 8 cap. 25. Just as we with the bodily eye [169] can see nothing if the sun does not spread its light over it, so we also can see no truth except in the light of God, who is the sun of our knowledge, Solil. I c. 8, 13, de Trin. 12 c. 15. Deus intelligibilis lux, in quo et a quo et per quem intelligibiliter lucent, quae intelligibiliter lucent omnia. Thomas speaks repeatedly in the same way, and employs the same comparison, S. Theol. I qu. 12 art. 11 ad 3, qu. 79 art. 4, qu. 88 art. 3 ad 1. II 1 qu. 109 art. 1 ad 2. S. c. Gent. 3 c. 47. Only Thomas pointed out that this must not be understood pantheistically, as Averroes taught under Neoplatonic influence and in this was later followed by Malebranche and the ontologistic school. Just as we, says Thomas, in natural seeing, not by ourselves being in the sun, but by the light of the sun that shines upon us, so we also do not see things in the divine essence, but by the light that from God shines in our own intellectus. Reason in us is that divine light; it is not the divine logos itself, but has a share in it. To God belongs the esse, vivere, intelligere per essentiam, to us per participationem S. Theol. I qu. 79 art. 4. This image of the sun led to speaking, in a sound sense, of the natural light of reason, cf. Polanus Synt. Theol. p. 325. Zanchius, Opera III 636 sq., under which then nothing else was understood than that permanent property or power of the human mind by which it is enabled, immediately upon the first observations, to form those basic concepts and basic principles which further guide it in all observation and thinking. The light of reason is thus in the first place similar to the intellectus agens, to the power of abstraction, which shines over the objects and causes the intelligibile to come forth from them, and further to that fund of κοιναι ἐννοιαι, which our mind makes its own precisely through the power of abstraction. But in both senses that light is to be ascribed to God, or more specifically to the Logos, Ps. 36 vs. 10, Joh. 1:9. He is the one who causes this light to arise in us and continually maintains it. And thus it is not to man, who is only an instrument, but to God that it is to be ascribed, if through the rays of that light the truth reveals itself to our mind, Liberatore, Die Erkenntnisslehre des h. Thomas v. A. 185 f. Kleutgen, Die Philosophie der Vorzeit, 2e Aufl. Innsbrück 1878 I 89 f. [170]

This beautiful metaphor makes clear to us what the principia are from which all science proceeds. Not only in theology, as the previous § showed us, but in every science there are three principia to be distinguished. Here too God is the principium essendi; in his self-consciousness lie the ideas of all things; all things rest on thoughts and have been created by the word. But it is his good pleasure to transfer from this cognitio archetypa in his divine consciousness an ectypal knowledge into man, who has been made after his image. But he does that, not by letting us behold the ideas in his essentia (Malebranche), nor also by giving them all to us already at birth (Plato, doctrine of the ideae innatae), but by spreading them out in the works of his hands before the spirit of man. The world is an embodiment of God’s thoughts; it is a beautiful book, in which all creatures, great and small, are as letters, which give us to behold the invisible things of God; it is no writing-book, in which, according to the representation of the idealists, we would have to fill in the words, but a reading-book, from which God makes known to us what he has written down in it for us. The created world is thus the principium cognoscendi externum of all science. But that is not enough. In order to see, an eye is necessary. Wär’ nicht das Auge sonnenhaft, wie könnten wir das Licht erblicken? There must be correspondence, affinity, between object and subject. The same Logos, which shines in the world, must also let his light shine in our consciousness. That is the intellectus, the ratio, which, itself derived from the Logos, discovers and recognizes the Logos in things. It is the principium cognoscendi internum. Sicut scientia in nobis est sigillatio rerum in animabus nostris, ita e converso formae non sunt nisi quaedam sigillatio divinae scientiae in rebus, Thomas, bij Liberatore, Die Erkenntnisstheorie des h. Thomas v. Aq. S. 148. Thus it is then God alone, who out of his divine consciousness brings in the knowledge of the truth through the creatures into our spirit; the Father, who through the Son in the Spirit reveals himself to us. Multi dicunt: quis ostendet nobis bona? Signatum est super nos lumen vultus tui, Domine! [171]

§ 8. Principles in Religion.

A. Essence of religion.

1. Just as science, religion also has its principia. In order to get to know these, it is first of all necessary to determine the essence of religion, especially also in distinction from science and art. The name religion gives little light. Cicero, de nat. deor. 2, 28, derives the word from relegere, to reread, to go over once more, to observe carefully, and thereby designates religion as a continual and zealous observing of all that pertains to the veneration of the gods, cf. de invent. 2, 22 and 53. Lactantius, Instit. divin. 4, 28, explains it from religare and thus understands by religion the bond that binds man to God. A third derivation, from relinquere, occurs in Gellius, Noct. Att. 4, 9, and indicates that all that belongs to religion, on account of its holiness, is set apart from the unholy. Augustine, de civ. Dei 10, 4, once connects it with re-eligere: in religion we choose God, whom we had lost through sin, again back as the source of our salvation. J. C. Leidenroth, Neue Jahrb. für Philologie und Pädagogik von Seebode, Jahn und Klotz 1834 S. 455, on that ground assumes that the three verba diligere, negligere and intelligere have a different perfectum than lego and its composita, a lost stem ligere, sanscr. lok, gr. λευσσειν, duitsch lugen, eng. look, cf. lucere, with the meaning of seeing; diligere would then mean to look upon with love, negligere not to see, intelligere to see into; and from that would then also religere, to look back, and religio, the looking around with fear, cf. respectus, have come. The derivation from religare, relinquere, re-eligere runs up against grammatical objection and also does not explain the peculiar meanings that religio possesses in Latin. Between the derivation of Cicero and of Leidenroth the dispute has not yet been decided; but materially both agree in this, that religio designates religion as an attitude of shy fear toward the Deity and as an anxiously-scrupulous observance, flowing from that, of what the cultus of the gods demands. Cf. the verse line in Figulus (Gellius, Noct. Att. 4, 9): religentem esse oportet, religiosum nefas, H. [172] Voigt, Fundamentaldogmatik. Gotha, Perthes 1874 S. 9 f. F. A. B. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. Freiburg, Mohr, 1889 S. 83. Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsdienstleer I 52 v. The word is thus absolutely not suitable to render the full content of the Christian religion. But usage and the derivation of Lactantius, which found general acceptance, have Christianized the word. The Vulgate adopted it at Hand. 26:5, Jak. 1:27. The word has passed into all European languages, and has also in our language, alongside godsdienst, vroomheid (from the goth. fruma, lat. primus, stepping to the foreground, virtuous, brave, e.g. Stat. Vert. Gen. 42:11, etc.), godsvrucht, godzaligheid, obtained and retained civic right.

2. Holy Scripture gives no definition and also possesses no general concept to designate the phenomenon of religion. It has separate words for its objective and its subjective side. The religio objectiva is identical with the revelation of God, and consists in the covenant, בְרִית, which God gave to Israel, and which therefore in the full sense may be called a divine institution, διαθηκη, Exod. 20:1 v., 34:10 v., 27 v.; Jes. 54:10, etc. The ordinances in that covenant, which Israel must observe, together form the content of the תּוֹרָה, instruction, doctrine, law, lawbook of the Lord, and are designated by very different names. They are called דְּבָרִים words Num. 12:6; Ps. 33:4, etc., מִצוֹת commandments, Gen. 26:5; Ex. 15:26, etc., פִקּוּדִים commands, Ps. 119:4, 5, 15, etc.; חֻקִּים statutes, decisions, Ex. 15:26; Lev. 25:18; Ps. 89:32; Job 28:26, etc.; מִשְׁפָּטִים lawsuit, judicial decision, Num. 36:13; Ps. 19:10, etc.; דְּרָכִים‎, ‏אֳרָחוֹת ways, paths, Deut. 5:33; Job 21:14; Ps. 25:4; etc.; מִשְׁמָרוֹת laws that are to be kept, Gen. 26:5; Lev. 18:30, etc. The many expressions indicate how in Israel’s religion the objective, the ordinance of God, stands in the foreground. To that religio objectiva there now corresponds subjectively the יִרְאַת יהוה, the fear of the Lord. This expresses the inner disposition of the pious Israelite toward the holy laws which have been prescribed to him by God to be observed. But this fear is nevertheless essentially distinct from the anxious timidity which originally lies enclosed in the Latin word religio. This is evident from the fact that this fear of the Lord passes over [173] into and is connected with all kinds of other religious dispositions, such as believing הֶאֱמִין Gen. 15:6; Jes. 7:9; Hab. 2:4; trusting בָּטַח Ps. 26:1, 37:3, 5; taking refuge חָסָה Ps. 5:12, 37:40; leaning סָמוּךְ, clinging fast דָּבַק 2 Kon. 18:6; hoping קִוָּה, expecting חִכָּה, yes even loving God חָשַׁק Ex. 20:6; Deut. 6:5; Ps. 91:14. The rights of the Lord do not remain as an object of terror and fear standing outside and above the Israelite, but become an object of his love. He ponders them with his understanding and practices them with his will. They are his delight the whole day. In the New Testament we encounter in substance the same conception. But now God gives his revelation not in a series of laws, but in the person of Christ. This one is the way and the truth, Joh. 14:6. The ὁδος του κυριου Hand. 18:25, 19:9, 23, 22:4; the διδαχη or διδασκαλια Mt. 7:28, 22:33; Joh. 7:16, 17; Hd. 2:42; Rom. 6:17; 1 Tim. 1:10, 4:6, 16, 6:1, 3; 2 Tim. 4:2, 3; Tit. 1:9, 2:1, 7, 10; the εὐαγγελιον Mk. 1:1, 14, 15, etc.; the λογος του θεου Mt. 13:19; Mk. 2:2, 4:14 v.; 2 Cor. 9:19, etc. all concentrate around Christ and are nothing other than explication of his person and work. Correspondingly, then, the subjective disposition also changes. The ordinary Greek words were not suitable to render this in its proper character. Δεισιδαιμονια is used by Festus of the Jewish Hd. 25:19, and the adjective by Paul of the heathen religion Hd. 17:22. Θεοσεβεια occurs only once 1 Tim. 2:10. Εὐσεβεια indicates holy reverence for God; it is in meaning related to the Latin pietas, and thus expresses a disposition such as is also present in children toward their parents etc.; this word occurs several times in the N. T., especially in the Pastoral Epistles; what the εὐσεβεια properly is and ought to be has first been revealed in the Gospel 1 Tim. 3:16. Fear also has not wholly departed from the religio subjectiva in the N. T. Luk. 18:2; Hd. 9:31; 2 Cor. 5:11, 7:1; Rom. 3:18; Ef. 5:21; Phil. 2:12; 1 Petr. 1:17, 3:2, 3:15, but it nevertheless occurs much more rarely as a description of the religious disposition; in most passages it has reference to particular events, e.g. God’s judgment, and has been replaced by love Rom. 8:15, 1 Joh. 4:18. The [174] ordinary word for the religio subjectiva in the N. T. is πιστις. To the glad message of forgiveness and of salvation in Christ there corresponds on man’s side faith, which is a childlike trust in God’s grace and therefore also immediately works love in our heart. Πιστις and ἀγαπη are the fundamental dispositions of Christian piety. The words λατρεια Rom. 9:4, 12:1; Hebr. 9:1, 6 and θρησκεια Hd. 26:5; Col. 2:18; Jak. 1:27 designate the cultus which is rendered to God from the principle of faith. J. Köstlin, Die Religion in N. T. Stud. u. Kr. 1888 S. 7-102. Nitzsch t. a. p. 85.

3. Holy Scripture therefore gives no description of the essence of religion, as it, according to the modern conception, underlies all religions. But it delineates and describes as religion only that relation between God and man, which has been regulated and determined by God himself. Likewise, earlier theology, in determining the essence of religion, always proceeded from the religio vera. And this method still recommends itself by its correctness. It can only be contested by those who think that the categories of true and false do not apply to the religions, because no knowledge of the supernatural is possible, and that therefore the representations have absolutely nothing to do with the religious disposition. This indifferentism, however, as will appear later, is untenable; knowing too is an essential element of religion. Assuming for the moment that there is a knowledge of the supernatural and that there exists a religio vera; then no single objection is conceivable to deriving from it the definition for the essence of religion and to using this as a standard in the assessment of the other religions. No single religion can have anything against being tested by the pure concept of religion. The false is known only by the genuine, and the lie is discovered by the truth. In no single domain is a correct judgment and valuation of things possible without a fixed, positive standard. Thus it is in law, morality, aesthetics, and thus it is also in religion. The study of religions presupposes that we at least know somewhat what religion is. Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. III2 184.

Following the example of Holy Scripture, in the investigation [175] into the essence of religion we have to distinguish between its objective and its subjective side. This distinction is obvious and is present in every religion. The religio objectiva takes precedence. All people find it at their birth; they grow up in it just as in family, society, church, state, etc. These are all objective institutions and powers, which do not arise arbitrarily out of and by man, but which receive him at his birth, form and educate him, and even against his will continue to govern him his whole life long. It is in conflict with history and with psychology, to proceed, in determining the essence of religion, from the religio subjectiva and then in the different religions to see nothing but changing forms and indifferent expressions of its life. In that way daily experience is misrecognized, the power of the religio objectiva denied, and every relation of object and subject reversed in a revolutionary way. Very certainly the religio objectiva also has its origin, which must be sought out and explained. But all religions whose origin is known to some extent show us that they have arisen in connection with what already existed, and stand in the closest relation with the whole historical milieu. There is not a single religion that is a pure expression of the religious disposition and can be explained from that alone. The religio subjectiva modifies and reshapes the existing religious representations and usages and often animates them with a new life. But it does not create; it itself always and everywhere arises under the influence and operation of the existing religions. Founders of religions therefore do not exist in the proper sense. The religio objectiva is the hearth of the religio subjectiva, Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsd. I. 123. To that is added that all religions wish to be regarded, not as expression and form of a religious disposition but as fruit of revelation. They do not derive their origin from man but from God. Whether one may let this appeal to revelation count or not; the fact speaks too strongly and is too general for it not to have to be explained. It indicates that the concept of religion is inseparably connected with that of revelation. There is no religion without revelation. Revelation is the foundation and the origin of all religion. It is therefore not permitted to the man of science, already a priori to eliminate [176] this concept of revelation and in the religions to see nothing but forms of one and the same essence, expressions of one and the same religious disposition. Holy Scripture also derives the religio objectiva from revelation. God, having formerly spoken many times and in many ways to the fathers through the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us through the Son, Hebr. 1:1. Moreover, it also lies in the nature of the case that revelation and religion are most closely connected. God alone can determine the manner in which He wishes to be served by men. Hominum non est, instituere et formare Dei cultum, sed traditum a Deo recipere et custodire, Conf. Helv. II art. 19. According to the teaching of Holy Scripture God has done that partly through nature, partly through his Word. The religio objectiva thus coincides with the thora, taken in the broadest sense, i.e. with all that instruction of the Lord which comes to us from law and gospel, word and fact, history and prophecy. It is the main content of Holy Scripture and the material of dogmatics. The religio objectiva is nothing other than the manner in which God himself has determined that He wishes to be served and honored. Formally all religions agree. But the agreement extends still further. All religions are composed of some constituent parts that constantly recur. In the first place there is in every religion a tradition concerning its divine origin; every religion appeals to revelation; that is the historical, the positive element, the element of tradition. Next there is in every religion a certain doctrine, in which God reveals to man that knowledge which is indispensable to his service; this is designated with the word dogma. Further, every religion also contains certain laws, which prescribe to man what he has to do and to refrain from in order to be able to live in communion with God; that is the moral teaching, which every religion brings with it. And finally there are in every religion also a greater or smaller number of ceremonies, i.e. of solemn forms and usages, which also outwardly express, accompany, and strengthen the communion of man with God: that is the cultic or liturgical constituent in religion. In the different religions the mutual relation of these constituent parts is very different; in some there is much dogma and little cultus and conversely; in others there is a rich tradition and a small number of moral prescriptions, etc. [177] But in all religions all four elements are present. The religio vera as well, laid down in Holy Scripture, has its history and dogma, its morality and its cultus, F. A. B. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. 1889 S. 101-108. H. Siebeck, Lehrb. der Religionsphilosophie, Freiburg, Mohr 1893 S. 263 f.

4. To that religio objectiva there corresponds in man the religio subjectiva. Very common formerly was the description of religion as recta verum Deum cognoscendi et colendi ratio. It already occurs in Lactantius, Instit. div. 4,4, and has been retained down to this century. Yet it is not elevated above criticism. It says nothing concerning the subjective disposition, which is necessary for the serving of God; it does not indicate the connection that exists between the knowing and serving of God and simply places these alongside each other; and it makes no mention of the other elements that lie in religion. Scholasticism penetrated more deeply into the matter and investigated the subjective disposition from which religion arises in man. Thomas reduces it to the virtues. These are divided by him into three kinds: virtutes intellectuales (sapientia, scientia, intellectus, etc), virtutes morales (the four cardinal virtues prudentia, justitia, fortitudo and temperantia), these two groups were borrowed from Aristotle. And to these were added as a third class the three supranatural or theological virtues faith, hope and love, Thomas, S. Theol. II 1 qu. 57, 58, 62. Religio is now by Thomas placed not under the virtutes theologicae but under the virtutes morales. For the theological virtues have this peculiarity, that they have God as direct object; they ordinant nos ad Deum immediate et directe ut ad objectum, ib. II 1 qu. 62 art. 2; but in religion God is not objectum but finis, the proper object in religion is the cultus that is rendered to God. It is thus not a virtus theologica, which has God as object, but a virtus moralis, which is concerned circa ea, quae sunt ad finem; it ordinat hominem in Deum, non sicut in objectum, sed sicut in finem. Under the virtutes morales it is nevertheless the principal one, because it stands in the closest relation to Him who is the goal of all virtues, namely God, ib. II 2 qu. 81 art. 5, 6. More precisely, religio is by Thomas reckoned among that virtus moralis which is called justitia. [178] He understands religio namely as that virtus, per quam homines Deo debitum cultum et reverentiam exhibent. Although in Jas. 1 v. 27 the visiting of orphans and widows etc. is also reckoned to religion, nevertheless religion in the proper and narrower sense is only a relation to God and never to men. And although everything must be done to the honor of God, the honor that is rendered to God in religion is nevertheless meant in a special sense and strictly speaking includes only that which has reference ad reverentiam Dei. It is thus one with the latreia, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 81 art. 1-4. This definition of Thomas, which has been adopted by very many, cf. C. R. Billuart, Summa S. Thomae — — sive Cursus Theologiae, Tom IV 1746 p. 5 sq. Petrus Dens, Theologia ad usum seminariorum IV p. 9 sq. P. Collet, Instit. Theol. moralis III p. 401 sq. etc., is however in the first place too narrow, because it describes only the cultus and thus coincides with latreia. The religio subjectiva is not only a service, a veneration, but first of all a disposition, which expresses itself in that service. Further, the distinction of virtutes morales and virtutes theologicae is too supranaturalistic and dualistic. There lies of course some truth in it, namely this, that also in fallen man there are still remnants of the image of God and moral virtues, even religion is not wholly eradicated. But the virtutes morales and also the religious disposition must be renewed and reborn, in order truly to be good. Thomas also recognizes, that the theological virtues, faith, hope, love causant actum religionis, quae operatur quaedam in ordine ad Deum, S. Th. II, 2 qu. 81 art. 5 ad 1, but they are nevertheless themselves excluded from religion; and while the virtutes intellectuales and morales are secundum naturam hominis, the virtutes theologicae are super naturam I, 2 qu. 62 art. 2. The Reformation has modified this conception of religion especially in a twofold respect. In the first place the theologians of the reformation make a better and clearer distinction between pietas as principle and cultus as actio of religion. And in the second place faith, hope and love are not placed as separate theological virtues alongside religion, but precisely as the principal acts of the cultus internus are included in religion itself. Religio, says Zwingli, Opera ed. Schuler et Schulthess, III 155 includes pietatem totam Christianorum, fidem, vitam, leges, ritus, sacramenta; it consists [179] in ea adhaesio, qua (homo) Deo utpote summo bono inconcusse fidit eoque parentis loco utitur, ib. 175, it is animae deique connubium, ib. 180. With Calvin we encounter three concepts: 1o the notitia, the knowledge of God, the awareness of his virtues; 2o this notitia is idoneus pietatis magister; it cultivates pietas, which consists in conjuncta cum amore Dei reverentia, quam beneficiorum ejus notitia conciliat; and 3o it is this pietas again, ex qua religio, in the sense of cultus, nascitur, Inst. I. 2, 1. Likewise Zanchius, Op. IV 263 sq. distinguishes between cultus, which indicates the actio externa vel interna, qua Deum veneramur and the religio or pietas, which is the virtus from which the cultus is born. Polanus says, Synt. Theol. 580 A, religio differs from cultus Dei, ut causa ab effectu. Religio or pietas is causa interna cultus Dei. The cultus, fruit of pietas, is then, just as with the scholastics, distinguished into internus and externus; the former has as principal acts fides, fiducia, spes, adoratio, dilectio, invocatio, gratiarum actio, sacrificium, obedientia; and the cultus externus is again either moralis (confession, prayer etc.) or ceremonialis (sacramenta, sacrificia, sacra). Zanchius IV 410 sq. Ursinus, Catech. qu. 94-103 and the explication thereof, also Tract. Theol. 1584 I p. 283 sq. Polanus, Synt. Theol. p. 32 F. Hoornbeek, Theol. pract. Lib. 9 cap. 6-8. Id. Summa Controv. p. 7 sq. Alsted, Theol. Catech. p. 5 sq. Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. I. 44 sq. For the Luth. one may compare Calovius, Isag. ad S. Theol. 1652 p. 301 sq. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. Kirche 6e Aufl. S. 5 f. Hase, Hutterus Rediv. Loc. 1 § 2. Herzog2 12:645.

5. The religio subjectiva is first of all a ἑξις, habitus, a certain disposition in man, which through the operation of the religio objectiva passes over into actus (cultus in- en externus). Such a habitus exists in every man; semen religionis omnibus inditum est, Calv. Inst. I. 4, 1. But this habitus in fallen man is corrupted and, fertilized by a false and impure religio objectiva, also produces a cultus, which is idololatreia, ἐθελοθρησκεια. Therefore, for a pure religion it is necessary that, in the first place, the religio objectiva coming to us from without make us know God again as He really is, and that, in the second place, the corrupted habitus religionis in man be reborn and renewed. In this sense the religio subjectiva is thus a virtus [180] infusa a Spiritu Sancto, Hoornbeek, Theol. pract. II p. 207, 213. Yet with this not enough has been said. Man has many virtues, both in his understanding and in his will. The peculiarity of that virtus which works in religion must therefore be indicated more precisely. Formerly one defined this virtus as pietas, reverentia, timor, fides etc., and so also nowadays as reverence, awe, fear, feeling of dependence. Yet all these definitions are not determinate enough; all these affections we have in greater or lesser degree also with respect to creatures. There must be an essential distinction between the cultus religiosus and the cultus civilis, between λατρεια and δουλεια, between the affections of fear, reverence, awe etc. as we cherish these toward God and toward creatures. That distinction can lie only in this, that in religion there comes into consideration the absoluta dignitas et potestas Dei and the absoluta subjectio on our side, Hoornbeek, Theol. pract. II 205 sq. Of creatures we are only in part dependent; we stand as creatures with them on an equal line; but God is a being on which we are absolutely dependent and which in every respect has the decision over our weal and our woe. Among the Heathen this absoluteness of God is indeed as it were distributed among many gods, but yet each god in his domain is endowed with such power that man for his happiness or unhappiness is absolutely dependent on him. It is especially Schleiermacher who in his Christ. Gl. § 4 defined religion as schlechthiniges Abhängigkeitsgefühl. Against this definition many objections have been raised, which are, inter alia, briefly reproduced by Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsdienstleer I 70 v. Indeed this definition in Schleiermacher has a sense which cannot be admitted. The dependence is by him conceived so pantheistically that it objectively has reference only to the world-whole and subjectively is limited to feeling. Yet there lies in Schleiermacher’s definition an important element of truth. What makes man into a religious being and drives him to religion is the consciousness that he stands to God in a relation which specifically differs from all other relations in which he is placed. This relation is so deep and tender, so rich and many-sided, that it can hardly be expressed by one concept. But certainly that of dependence is what comes into consideration for this the [181] first and the most. For in religion man feels himself in relation to a personal being who has his lot in every domain of life and for time and eternity in his hand. Therefore God in religion is not conceived exclusively as power; for also as Gracious, Merciful, Righteous, Holy etc. God over against man nevertheless always stands as Sovereign, as Absolute, as God. And man over against Him always stands as creature; he is that over against no one and nothing else, he is that only over against God. And therefore this creaturely dependence is not the essence but yet the foundation of religion. Man, however, is not only creature, but also a rational and moral creature; his relation to God is therefore a wholly other one than that of angels and animals. The absolute dependence in which man stands to God therefore does not exclude freedom. He is dependent, but in another way than the other creatures; he is so and in that sense dependent, that he at the same time remains a rational and moral being, that he is akin to God, His offspring and His image. Absolutely dependent is he, so that the denial of this dependence never makes him free, and yet its recognition never degrades him into a slave. On the contrary, in the conscious, voluntary acceptance of this his dependence man comes to the highest freedom. He becomes man in the same measure as he is a child of God. Holy Scripture does not institute an investigation into the essence of the religio subjectiva, as it is still found in all men and under all religions. It would also be an unbegun work. For the religious disposition is in the manifold religions so different that at most a very general and vague concept can be indicated for it. Scripture, however, designates that religious disposition which the Christian feels toward God and His revelation with the name of faith. That is the central concept in the religio subjectiva of the Christian. Concerning the nature of that faith there has at all times been great difference in the Christian church. The religious life is so rich and deep that it can each time be considered from another side. But in faith there are nevertheless always these two elements enclosed, in the first place, that man over against God and His revelation is wholly receptive and absolutely dependent on God, and in the second place, that precisely by recognition of this [182] dependence he becomes partaker of forgiveness, of sonship, of salvation out of grace. Analogy of this religio subjectiva in Christianity there is certainly also in other religions, but only in the Christian religion is the subjective relation of man to God completely normal. Dependence and freedom are here reconciled with one another. The sovereignty of God remains here fully maintained and the kinship of man with God is nevertheless fully recognized. Man is the more religious and becomes the more conformed to the image of God, in proportion as he more deeply perceives and acknowledges his dependence. Therefore all virtues with respect to creatures can be exaggerated; but with respect to God no exaggeration is possible. One can never believe, trust, love Him etc. too much; never can faith expect too much, Voigt, Fundamentaldogmatik 65 f. Aug. Dorner, Stud. u. Kr. 1883 S. 217 f. Kahnis, Die luth. Dogm. 2e Ausg. 1874 I 81 f. Abr. des Amorie van der Hoeven Jr. Religion the essence of man, Leeuwarden, 1848 p. 38 v.

6. Subjective religio passes, through the operation of objective religio, from its habitual state into acts. These acts are inward or outward, and thus make a distinction between the cultus internus and externus. Religio and cultus relate to each other as cause and effect. Yet it is not meant by this that cultus is a free invention and expression of subjective religion. All ἐθελοθρησκεια is forbidden, Mt. 15:9. Mk. 7:7. Col. 2:23. Both the antinomistic Anabaptism and the nomistic Romanism are to be avoided here. God alone determines how He wills to be served. And the regeneration of the religio subjectiva corrupted by sin, of the habitus religionis, consists precisely in this, that believers receive a sincere desire to live in perfection not only according to some but according to all the commandments of God. It is their food to do the will of the Father. Jesus never spoke or did anything except that for which He had received a command from the Father. Therefore Scripture lays such strong emphasis on walking in God’s commandments, on keeping His statutes, etc. And to that end God regenerates man, in order to bring him, who is averse to His service, again in the inmost of his being into agreement [183] with His will and law, laid down in the religio objectiva. The cultus internus comprises the acts of faith, trust, fear, love, prayer, thanksgiving, etc., and the cultus externus manifests itself in confession, prayer, song, ministry of the word and of the sacraments, vow, fasting, watching, etc. This is therefore partly moral, partly ceremonial; and can again be solitarius and socius. In the latter case it is private or public; the communal, public cultus is regulated in the church orders. In all these religious actions the consciousness of absolute dependence is the religious fundamental thought, the animating element. Detached from that they become letter-service, lip-work, cold and dead formalism. But animated by that, they all acquire their specific religious character. Creatures too are object of our faith, of our hope, of our love, etc. What stamps all these actions as religious is that they place us in relation to a Person, on whom we, with all things, in an absolute sense and yet again in a particular way, i.e. as rational creatures, are dependent. The essence of religion can after all lie in nothing else than in this, that God precisely as God is glorified and thanked. Every religion that falls short in this, detracts from the honour of God and in that same measure also ceases to be genuinely religious. On the other hand, true religion consists in such a disposition of man, which on the one hand is rooted in the deep consciousness of his absolute dependence on God as Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier, etc., and on the other hand extends itself to walk in sincerity according to all God’s statutes.

B. Seat of religion.

7. After the essence of religion has been investigated, the place must be determined which it occupies in man, in the midst of his faculties and functions. At the same time the relation then becomes clear in which religion stands to science, art, and morality. Already scholasticism posed the question whether the religio was a virtus intellectualis or moralis, and Thomas said the latter, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 81 art. 5. But only in more recent philosophy, especially after the religions of the peoples have become more widely known, has the essence of religion been made an object of [184] psychological and historical investigation. Lessing’s Erziehung des Menschengeschlechts 1780 and Herder’s Ideen zur Philos. der Gesch. der Menschheit 1784 made a beginning with it. And since then the history and the philosophy of religions has become a favorite study. For the determination of the essence of religion, present-day research almost always proceeds from the religio subjectiva, and the right, the power, the value of the religio objectiva is almost generally denied. This is the result of a philosophical praemisse, that all religions are equal in essence and differ only in form. But this religious indifferentism is therefore untenable, because all religion necessarily includes a knowing and posits the reality of its object; as soon as, however, this is the case, a religion falls under the category of true and untrue. If religion were nothing but feeling and phantasy, it would also attach to its creations only an aesthetic value. But every religion is convinced of the reality and the truth of its objects (gods, prophets, holy places etc.), and without that faith is incapable of existence, cf. Dr. Bruining, Theol. Tijdschr. Nov. 1894 bl. 563 v. 598 v. In fact everyone also applies the category of true and untrue to the religions; the philosopher of religion does not believe in the truth of the gods of the peoples, even if he also values the religious disposition which in their veneration expresses itself many times. Further, the different religions themselves are by no means indifferent toward one another; they regard themselves and one another not as standing in a relation of lower and higher, but of true and false. The philosopher stands with his indifferentism pretty much alone. Frederick the Great may say: in meinem Reiche soll Jeder nach seiner Façon selig werden, the religions themselves think quite otherwise about it. And they cannot do otherwise; what the one posits, the other negates. They exclude one another, and cannot both be true. If Christ is the One Sent of the Father, then Mohammed is not. And finally religious indifferentism still rests on the sinful thought that it is indifferent to God how He is served. It deprives Him of the right to determine the manner of his service. In any case it proceeds from the thought that God has not prescribed his service, thus from the a priori denial of revelation. The proposition that the religions agree in essence and differ in form, [185] is conversely much more correct; they differ in essence but agree in form. In addition, finally the remark must still be made that indifferentism in the matter of religion can extend more or less far. Syncretism holds the ecclesiastical, deism holds the Christian, modernism holds the religio objectiva, the morale indépendante holds all that is religious to be indifferent. In fact and objectively, however, nothing is indifferent, neither in nature, nor in the state, nor in science or art. Everything, even the least, has its definite place and significance in the whole. Man is indifferent only to what he does not know; what he knows is also of itself assessed and valued by him. God is indifferent to nothing, because he knows everything. Cf. Lamennais, Essai sur l’indifférence en matière de religion, 9e éd. Paris 1835, especially tome premier, of which the introduction begins: le siècle le plus malade n’est pas celui qui se passionne pour l’erreur, mais le siècle qui néglige, qui dédaigne la vérité.

8. The general belief that the religions are different forms of one essence proceeds from the thought that the essence of religion lies not in the religio objectiva, but in the religio subjectiva. The former is indifferent; it is the latter, the religious disposition or mood, that matters. According to that disposition, therefore, investigation must be made, in order to determine the essence of religion. But where and how must that investigation take place? Two methods present themselves, the historical and the psychological. The historical, advocated e.g. by Dr. A. Bruining, Wijsbeg. v. d. godsd. Theol. Tijdschr. 1881 bl. 365 v. wishes to determine the essence of religion from historical research and comparative observation of the religious phenomena. But this method is in fact impossible, because every investigation of the religions already presupposes a notion of religion; a comparative investigation of all religions is an impracticable labour; and in the religions precisely the religious disposition is most deeply hidden and almost escapes all observation. What do we still know of the mood and disposition that, in the different directions and churches within Christianity, underlies the religious phenomena! The psychological method, defended inter alia by. Hugenholtz, Studiën op godsd. en zedek. gebied II 83 v. and [186] Rauwenhoff, Wijsbeg. v. d. godsdienst 41 v., wishes to explain the essence of religion psychologically and therefore demands that the practitioner of the science of religion be a religious person and as such observe and judge the religious phenomena. There is in itself nothing to be said against this. In the study of the religions to leave one’s own religious consciousness out of account, as Dr. Bruining wishes, would be the same, according to the good remark of Dr. Hugenholtz, as to put out one’s own eyes for fear of deception of sight. But then it may nevertheless be demanded that such an investigator of the religions bring with him not a false but a true and pure conception of religion; otherwise he tests all religions only by his own perhaps very erroneous representation and by that of his kindred spirits, e.g. by the modern conception of religion. If, however, the question stands thus, then between orthodox and moderns there is no longer any question of method, but only of the truth or untruth of the religious representation from which both proceed. And then the guarantee for the truth of the religious representation which the orthodox brings is at least as great as that for the modern conception of religion; for the former derives it from Holy Scripture and is in agreement with the church of all centuries, and the latter is of short duration and valid only in a small circle of kindred spirits.

9. The philosophy of religion has now especially advanced three conceptions of the essence of religio (subjectiva). First, the intellectualistic, which posits the essence of religion in knowledge, and places its seat in the understanding. Gnosticism already said that the gnosis made blessed, that the agnitio was redemptio interioris hominis, Irenaeus adv. haer. I cap. 21. This gnosticism has at all times found defenders in the Christian church, but has especially re-emerged in the more recent philosophy. Spinoza holds understanding and will to be unum et idem, Eth. II prop. 49, has the amor Dei be born from the clear and distinct knowledge of man of himself and his affects, ib. V prop. 15, and calls this amor intellectualis, ib. prop. 32. Summa mentis virtus est Deum cognoscere V prop. 27, and our man is pars infiniti Dei intellectus II prop. 11. This knowledge of God, i.e. of things sub specie aeternitatis II prop. 44 is summa [187] mentis acquiescentia V prop. 27. According to Schelling in his first period, of the Absolute, as identity of the finite and infinite, only an absolute knowing is possible; religion here thus entirely loses its independence, faith is an incorrect, impure apprehension of the idea, Philosophie u. Religion (Sämmtl. Werke, Erste Abth. VI S. 11 f.). Hegel in particular has elaborated this intellectualistic determination of the essence of religion. With him the Absolute is thinking itself, which enters into the oppositions and from these again returns to identity with itself. The whole world is thus a development of spirit, a logical unfolding of the content of reason, a process in which the idea first objectifies itself in nature and then from that in spirit returns again to itself. One of the moments which this process runs through is religion. The human spirit is that in whom the Absolute comes to itself and becomes conscious of itself. And this self-consciousness of the absolute spirit in the finite spirit is religion. Religion is thus essentially knowing, not feeling and not acting, but knowing, and indeed of God by the finite spirit, or objectively God’s knowing of himself through and in the finite spirit. Der Mensch weiss nur von Gott, insofern Gott im Menschen von sich selbst weiss, diess Wissen ist Selbstbewustseyn Gottes, aber ebenso ein Wissen desselben vom Menschen, und diess Wissen Gottes vom Menschen ist Wissen des Menschen von Gott. Der Geist des Menschen von Gott zu wissen, ist nur der Geist Gottes selbst, Vorles. über die Philos. der Religion, herausg. v. Marheinecke 1832 Werke XII S. 428. Religion, however, is not the highest knowing; it is only a knowing of the absolute in the form of sensible, historical representations. The highest, true knowing is first attained in philosophy. Religion is therefore temporary, a lower form, suitable for the undeveloped. But philosophy loosens the idea from the sensible representations of religion and thus comes to an absolute, adequate, conceptual knowing of God, ib. S. 15 f. cf. Strauss, Christl. Gl. I 12. Feuerbach, Wesen des Christenthums 1841 and Strauss, Christliche Glaubenslehre 1840, Der alte und der neue Glaube, 2e Aufl. 1872 drew the consequence and completed the breach with the Christian religion. Idealism turned into materialism. Just as already in the previous century by La Mettrie, cf. Stöckl, Gesch. der neueren Philos. I 378, so [188] now again by many faith in God was held to be the greatest and most harmful error. Bruno Bauer, Arnold Ruge, Edgar Bauer, Max Stirner preached the barest egoism. Materialism, which arose in Germany about 1850, judged no differently, Büchner, Kraft und Stoff 1855, 16e Aufl. 1885 S. 392 f. Specht, Theol. u. Naturwiss. 3e Aufl. 1878 S. 71 f. Moleschott, Kreislauf des Lebens 1852. Carl Vogt, Köhlerglaube und Wissenschaft 1854. Czolbe, Neue Darstellung des Sensualismus 1855.

10. Now Hegel has seen very well that religion also contains knowledge and that religion and metaphysics are most closely related. The nature of the matter also makes this clear. Religion is always a relation of man to a divine Power standing above him. Religion therefore is not and cannot be without a definite conception of God; and this in turn includes other conceptions concerning world and man, origin and final end of things. These religious conceptions have transcendental significance for the believer; he is most deeply convinced of their objective reality and truth. As soon as he begins to regard these conceptions as products of his imagination, as ideals without reality, or also despairs of the knowability of the metaphysical, his religion is finished. Skepticism destroys the object of religion and thereby religion itself. God must also be served with the understanding; but when the understanding sees that the religious conceptions do not correspond to a reality, it ceases to be religious. Religious and theoretical world-view, theology and science are not the same but nevertheless cannot possibly struggle with one another. Such a dualism is in irreconcilable conflict with the unity of the human spirit, Hartmann, Religionsphilosophie. II. Die Religion des Geistes, 2te Aufl. Leipzig, Friedrich S. 3-27.

But Hegel erred in this, that he placed religion and philosophy in relation to one another as lower and higher, as representation and concept, and thus conceived them as successive moments of one process. The Hegelians such as Strauss, Glaub. I 12 f. and Biedermann, Christl. Dogm. 2e Aufl. I 184 f. themselves saw what was incorrect in this. Content and form are never so [189] mechanically and externally connected, that a complete change of the latter leaves the former unchanged. The conversion of religious representations into philosophical concepts also affects the religious content itself. The history of Hegelian philosophy soon brought this to light. With it there remained of the Christian dogmas as good as nothing; trinity, incarnation, satisfaction retained the orthodox names but were interpreted entirely differently. The facts of Christianity were reckoned as belonging to the form and were deemed worthless. In place of that one obtained concepts that no longer had any content. A second error of Hegel consisted in this, that he gave religion and philosophy an equal content and yet held the former to be a lower form of the latter. Religion was thereby lowered to a relatively good, which only still had value for the simple and the undeveloped. The philosophers were far elevated above it and had enough in philosophy. This now rests on a total failure to recognize the essence of religion. For religion and science are indeed related but yet also as different as heaven and earth. Even if they also have many times the same content and object, these nevertheless appear in both under an entirely different point of view. In science it is a matter of knowledge, in religion it is a matter of comfort, peace, blessedness. Religion and philosophy are just as little as the état théologique, métaphysique and positive of A. Comte historically successive states of the human spirit, but are different points of view under which often the same thing can be considered. Even the most profound philosopher therefore does not, with all his knowledge, get beyond religion; by science he can never satisfy his religious need. Science may indeed tell him that and what God is; only through religion does he know that that God is also his God and his Father. Science may teach him that there is sin and grace; only through religion does he become partaker of the blessedness of forgiveness and of the sonship of God. Even if science could know everything, and even if it could solve all metaphysical problems; even then it would give only theoretical knowledge, and no personal participation in the goods of salvation. Not to knowing, but only to believing is blessedness bound. But it is far from the case that science and [190] philosophy can bring it so far. Precisely on the most important questions it remains without an answer. The expectation that Renan could cherish of science in 1848 proved to himself in 1890 to be nothing but an illusion, Renan, L’avenir de la science. Pensées de 1848. 2e éd. Paris 1890. Science tells us neither what God nor what man is; it leaves us unacquainted with the origin and the destination of things. The phenomena it observes, but the noumenon remains hidden from it. It can never replace religion and never compensate for its loss, Voigt, Fundam. dogm. 120 f. Hartmann, Religionsphilosophie II S. 3-27. H. Siebeck, Lehrbuch der Religionsphilosophie, Freiburg 1893 S. 1-11. Nitzsch, Ev. Dogm. 92-96. Pfleiderer, Grundriss der christl. Gl. u. Sittenlehre § 11.

11. Others have therefore defined religion by moral action and sought its seat in the will. Pelagianism in its various forms, Semipelag. Socin. Remonstr. Deism, Ration. etc. has prepared this view, insofar as the fides in this direction is supplemented by, or even consists solely in, a nova obedientia. Doctrine is then only a means and subordinate; the main thing is love; what matters is a virtuous, moral life. Spinoza too, alongside the intellectualistic, has this moralistic view. Holy Scripture is God’s word, because it contains the vera religio, the lex divina, Tract. theol. pol. cap. 12 § 18 sq. It intends nothing praeter obedientiam, cap. 13, and this obedientia erga Deum consists in solo amore proximi, ib. § 8. Philosophy and faith are so distinct that the former has as its goal the veritas, the latter the obedientia and pietas, cap. 14 § 38. The intellectualis sive accurata Dei cognitio is not a gift to all believers, but the obedientia is; this is demanded of all, cap. 13 § 9. But above all Kant has given this moralism currency. The theoretical reason namely cannot reach the supersensible. God, freedom, immortality are scientifically not to be proved. They are only postulates of practical reason for the fulfillment of the moral law and for the obtaining of the highest good, i.e. the blessedness connected with virtue. Believing is thus holding for true not on theoretical but on practical grounds. Morality becomes the foundation of religion. And religion ist subjektiv betrachtet das Erkenntniss aller unserer Pflichten als göttlicher [191] Gebote. Religion here is not directly and immediately grounded in human nature, but only through the moral. It also has no content and matter of its own, but is nothing other than a further determination of the moral; not in the object but only in the form lies the difference between the two. Kant therefore also had to acknowledge that no religion has been satisfied with his religion. All religions contain, besides pure rational faith, many other dogmata, a doctrinal historical Glauben. But he explains this from the weakness of human nature, which is not easily convinced that a moral walk is all that God demands of us. The calling is to purify the Kirchenglauben more and more and to have it pass over into the pure Vernunftglauben, Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft, herausg. van K. Rosenkranz 1838. Kant’s religion therefore in fact consisted in nothing other than the rationalistic trilogy God, virtue, immortality. But J. G. Fichte went further and derived from moral consciousness no other postulate than that the I regards the entire not-I, the world, as the “sensualized material” of its duty, recognizes it as so ordered that its moral willing and acting lies on the line of the moral goal of the whole, in other words, that there is a moral world-order. Here religion has wholly been absorbed into the moral. Cf. Ueber den Grund unseres Glaubens an eine göttliche Weltregierung 1798. This moralism has been deepened into ethicisme, in that the moral is conceived not only psychologically but also metaphysically. The will, the good, love is then the proper being, the Ursein, the Absolute; from that everything, the Trinity, the world, redemption, is to be explained; that power of the good realizes itself in the human world by means of the moral. That is the fundamental thought from which Schelling proceeded in his second period: es gibt in der letzten und höchsten Instanz gar kein anderes Sein als Wollen, Wollen ist Ursein, Ueber das Wesen der menschl. Freiheit, Sammtl. Werke VII 331 f. Rothe especially transferred this ethicisme into theology; piety has no content of its own but coincides in concreto with true morality, Theol. Ethik § 114-126; the church therefore also passes over into the state § 440. Since then this ethical direction has gained great influence. The ethical is alternately regarded as foundation (Neokantians), content [192] (Ethischen among the Vermittelungstheologen and among the Modernen), or even as complete compensation (Morale indépendante. The ethical movement in religion) for religion. The ethical direction among the Vermittelungstheologen followed in the footsteps of Schleiermacher and Rothe, cf. my Theol. van D. Ch. de la Saussaye, Leiden 1884, bl. 20 v. In this country Hoekstra sought the foundation of religious faith in practical reason, in the will, Bronnen en grondslagen van ’t godsd. geloof 1864 bl. 23 v. 49 v. 63 v. The ethical Modernen who attach themselves to him define religion as devotion to the moral ideal, as pure morality, Dr. Hooijkaas, God in de geschiedenis 1870. Godsdienst volgens de beginselen der ethische richting onder de Modernen, four lectures by Hooijkaas, Hooijkaas Herderschee, Oort and van Hamel, ’s Bosch 1876. cf. Rauwenhoff, Wijsb. v. d. godsd. 1887 bl. 116 v. Rauwenhoff himself places the essence of religion in faith in a moral world-order, Wijsb. v. d. godsd. 373 v. Related to that is the doctrine of the Morale Indépendante, cf. C. Coignet, La morale indépendante dans son principe et dans son objet, Paris 1863. Vacherot, La religion, Paris 1869 cf. Bibl. v. mod. Theol. 1870 I 333 v. Caro, La morale indép. Paris 1876. E. Bersier, sur la question de la mor. indép. in de Handelingen der Ev. Alliantie 1867. Cramer, Christendom en Humaniteit 1871 bl. 159 v. and likewise that ethical movement which has penetrated from America into England and Germany, and, indifferent to all religion, recognizes no dogma but love for the good. See W. M. Salter, De godsdienst der moraal, Dutch by Dr. Hugenholtz 1889, cf. Lamers, De godsd. evenmin moraal als metaphysica 1885. Bibl. v. mod. Theol. 1887, 4e st. bl. 579. Kuenen in de Hervorming 1888, reply by Salter ib. 15 Dec. 1888. Dr. Felix Adler, Die ethischen Gezellschaften, Berlin, Dümmler 1892. Die ethische Bewegung in Deutschland, vorbereitende Mittheilungen eines Kreises gleichgesinnter Männer u. Frauen zu Berlin, ib. 1892. St. Coit, Die ethische Bewegung in der Religion, vom Verf. durchges. Uebersetzung v. Gizycki. Leipzig, Reisland 1890. Against that: Dr. M. Keibel, Die Religion u. ihr Recht gegenüber dem modernen Moralismus. Halle, Pfeffer, 1892. Also Otto Dreyer, Undogmatisches Christenthum, Braunschweig 1888; Egidy, Ernste Gedanken, Leipzig 1890 (cf. Gids Mei 1893); [193] H. Drummond, Summum Bonum, Pax Vobiscum, The spiritual law in the natural world; Tolstoi, Vernunft u. Dogma, Wie ist mein Leben? both with Otto Janke, Berlin. Worin besteht mein Glaube, Leipzig 1885 etc. strive for an undogmatic, practical, moral Christianity, a Christianity of the Sermon on the Mount.

12. Now it suffers no doubt that religion and morality stand in the closest connection with one another. That affinity appears in the first place from this, that religion itself is a moral relation. Religion does indeed rest on a mystical union of God and man, but is itself no substantial communion of both, but an ethical relation of man to God. God has no religion; but God’s indwelling in man cultivates on his side that relation to God, which we call religion, Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsdienstleer I 57 v. 64. This relation is therefore of an ethical nature; it is regulated in that same lex moralis, which also determines the other relations of man to his fellow-creatures; all religious actions of man are moral duties, and the whole of religion is a moral command. Conversely, the moral life is again a service of God. To visit widows and orphans Jak. 1:27, is not, in the proper sense, a religious act, but can nevertheless be called religion, because religion must manifest and confirm itself therein. Scholasticism therefore made a distinction between actus eliciti and actus imperati of religion, Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 81 art. 1. Faith without works, without love, is a dead faith. Love to God proves itself for us in love to the neighbour Jer. 22:16. Jes. 1:11 v. 1 Joh. 2:3 v. Jak. 2:17 etc. Our whole life ought to be a service of God. The superscription: I am the Lord your God, stands also above the commandments of the second table. Love is the one great principle, that fulfils the whole law, Rom. 13:13. The moral law is one organic whole, so that he who transgresses one commandment violates the whole law Jak. 2:10. The neighbour must be loved for God’s sake, and sin against the neighbour is also a sin against God. This relation of religion and morality already makes it clear, that morality can never constitute either the content or also the foundation of religion. In spite, indeed, of their intimate affinity, both are essentially distinct. Religion is [194] always a relation to God, morality to men; religion has as principle the πιστις, morality the ἀγαπη; religion reveals itself in those religious actions, which together form a cultus in- and externus, morality manifests itself in the deeds of justice, mercy, honesty etc. toward the neighbour; religion is regulated in the first, morality in the second table of the law. This distinction between religion and ethos cannot be maintained by pantheism, because God here has not a proper existence independent of the world; a personal relation between God and man is here not possible; love to God then cannot express itself otherwise than in love to the neighbour. Deism too, on account of the denial of the communion of God and man, can cultivate no proper religion. There is indeed still faith in God, but no serving of God otherwise than in the fulfilment of the moral commandments. But on the theistic standpoint man stands in relation to the world but also in a proper, distinct relation to God as a personal being. Religion is therefore something essentially other than morality and reveals itself in a proper series of acts. If, however, this is so, then morality also cannot be the foundation of religion, but conversely this must form the basis for that. The relation to God is then the primary and the central one, which determines all other relations of man. Both historically and logically morality is always grounded in religion. Religion urges the moral duties, and morality seeks the sanction of religion. An autonomous morality occurs in reality nowhere. Everywhere and among all peoples morality finds its last ground and its last end in religion. Morality loses the ground under its foot, if it is deprived of divine authority in the conscience. Alle Moral hat sich geschichtlich aus der Religion entwickelt, und wenn auch die so entwickelten geistigen Anlagen der Menschheit zur Sittlichkeit Dank ihrer Herkunft eine Zeit lang selbstständig fortbestehen können, wenn sie von ihrem Mutterboden abgelöst werden, so ist doch diese selbstständige Existenzfähigkeit zeitlich sehr begrenzt und schon in der zweiten Generation machen zich deutlich die Symptome des Verfalls der Sittlichkeit bemerkbar, E. v. Hartmann, Relig. philos. II 59. Materially, of course, by far not all obligations and actions, which men [195] hold to be moral, are in agreement with the will of God. But the formal, that which makes all duty into unconditional duty, which binds man in the conscience, that is from God. There is no morality without metaphysics. Menschen, gewoonten, zeden enz. cannot obligate absolutely in the conscience. Only God can do that. Therefore conscience is sacrosanct and freedom of conscience an inexorable demand and an inalienable right. The commands and prohibitions, which are not fixed in the conscience, are not felt as moral. A law, which has no foundation in the popular conscience, is powerless. By virtue of this connection there is also a reciprocal influence of religion and morality upon one another. Temporarily they can, both in an individual and in a people, fall apart and even struggle with one another. But they cannot rest, before they are in harmony and equilibrium. What is approved in religion cannot be condemned in morality, and conversely. The relation to God and to men must both bear one and the same moral character, be regulated in one and the same moral law. Religion and morality, cultus and culture must be rooted in one and the same principle. That is the case in Christianity. Love is the fulfilment of the law, and the bond of perfection. H. Schultz, Religion und Sittlichkeit in ihrem Verhältniss zu einander, religionsgeschichtlich untersucht (Stud. u. Kr. 1883 Heft 1 S. 60-130). J. Köstlin, Rel. u. Sittl. (Stud. u. Kr. 1870). Pfleiderer, Moral u. Religion, Haarlem 1872. Rothe, Theol. Ethik § 114 f. Martensen, Die christl. Ethik 3e Aufl. 1878 I 19-33. Janet, La morale, Paris 1874 p. 596 s. Hoekstra, Godsdienst en zedelijkheid Theol. Tijdschr. II bl. 117 v. Id. Wijsg. Godsdienstleer I 251 v. Lamers, Godsd. en zedel. Amst. 1882. Ch. de la Saussaye, Lehrb. der Religionsgesch. I 166 f. C. Stage, Relig. u. Sittl. Vortrag. Berlin, Bibliogr. Bureau 1894. Lamers, De Wetenschap v. d. godsd. II 167 v. Hugenholtz, Studiën op godsdienst- en zedekundig gebied, Amst. 1884 I passim. Hartmann, Religionsphilosophie 2e Aufl. II 55-64. Siebeck, Handbuch der Rel. Phil. S. 243 f. Kaftan, Das Wesen der christl. Religion, Basel 1881 S. 124 f. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. S. 96 f.

13. Finally, there are also those who assign religion a place in feeling and for that sometimes even assume a separate faculty [196] in man. Mysticism and pietism had already paved the way for that in earlier times. But only through the Romanticism of the previous century did this view for a time become dominant. Romanticism was in general a reaction of the free, unbound life of feeling against objective classicism, which bound and regulated everything. The subject raised itself above the laws that, in every domain of life, had been set upon its spontaneous expression; imagination resumed its rights over against the understanding; the organic view took the place of the mechanical; the idea of becoming displaced that of making. In every field the eye opened for the free, the natural, the genial; coming-into-being, growth, development was the manner in which things arose; not the useful but the beautiful, not prose but poetry, not labor but play, not manufacture but art had the highest value. The mannerism of earlier times turned into a superficial sentimentality. Such was the movement which in England found its spokesman in Young, Southey, Wordsworth, S. T. Coleridge. In France it was introduced by Rousseau, who in his profession de foi du vicaire Savoyard (Emile, livre 4) builds up his whole deistic dogmatics and morality out of feeling: le sentiment est plus que la raison, notre sensibilité est antérieure à notre intelligence. In Germany Winckelmann opened eyes to the beauty of Greek art; Lessing set over against the poetry of French classicism the genius of Shakespeare; Herder pointed out in history the revelation and operation of eternal, divine nature; Hamann, Claudius, Lavater, Stilling proceeded from rich subjectivity and set this over against the flat, mechanical conception of the Aufklärung; Kant and Fichte placed the I of man in the foreground. Everywhere there was a breach with objectivity; the subject became absolute principle. Under this influence Jacobi appealed to feeling, as the unmittelbare Vernehmen des Göttlichen. Religion is feeling for the true, beautiful, and good; admiration, love, esteem for the divine; and such a feeling is innate in us as Grundtrieb der menschlichen Natur, Werke II 59 f. 194 f. etc. The aesthetic rationalism of Jacobi was worked out by Fries and de Wette in such a way that they made a strict separation between the empirical-mathematical world-view [197] of the understanding and the ideal, aesthetic-religious world-view of feeling. Schleiermacher’s conception of religion is to be explained from that same romantic direction. In the second discourse from his Reden über die Religion 1799 he defines religion as the immediate consciousness of the being of all the finite in and through the infinite. It is not knowing and not doing, not metaphysics and not morality, but feeling of the infinite. The object of that feeling is not a personal God, with whom man lives in communion, but the universe, the world as a whole, conceived as unity. And the organ for the perception of that infinite is not understanding, reason, or will, but feeling, the direction of the mind toward and the sense for the infinite. More precisely this feeling is not defined. And still vaguer is the answer to the question when that feeling becomes specifically religious feeling. Schleiermacher answers that in the 3rd discourse only in figurative language: one must open one’s feeling as widely as possible to the world as a whole, contemplate everything in the one and the one in everything, conceive all the particular as a revelation of the infinite, etc. All this does not say much; it seems that in the end every feeling is religious which is aroused by the world-whole and reveals to us the highest unity. In any case the religious feeling is not clearly delimited over against the aesthetic. In the Glaubenslehre we encounter in substance the same conception. Here too piety is feeling § 3, namely, feeling of absolute dependence § 4. But there is nevertheless a twofold difference. In the Reden God was the whole, in the Glaub. He is the absolute causality of the world; correspondingly the feeling there was sense for the infinite, and here immediate self-consciousness and absolute dependence. God here acquires more an existence of his own, distinct from the world, and religion therefore also a content of its own, distinct from the feeling for the world. Thus some approximation to theism is to be perceived. But the fundamental thought is nevertheless the same insofar as God is not conceived as transcendent above but only as immanent in the world, and the organ for the divine is not reason, conscience, etc. but feeling. This conception of religion has not only been adopted by some Vermittelungstheologen, even if with modification, but is in principle found with all who, alongside the mechanical [198] world-view, still attempt to build up an aesthetic world-view and in it include religion or even let it be wholly absorbed into it. Lange Gesch. des Mater. S. 830 says that the core of religion consists, not in a doctrine about God etc., but in the elevation of the mind above reality and in the Erschaffung einer Heimath der Geister. Above the world of facts, the Welt des Seienden, man builds by his imagination a Welt der Werthe, a Welt der Dichtung. Pierson, Eene levensbeschouwing, champions such an ideal-formation; the feeling of man, aroused from without, creates from the representations which the understanding obtains from the sensibly perceptible world, religious, ethical, aesthetic ideals, which indeed are no realities existing independently of us but nevertheless are of great value for our life, bl. 113-179. Opzoomer even assumed a separate religious feeling and saw in it the source of religious representations, De weg der wetenschap, een handboek der logika 1851 § 15. De Godsdienst bl. 126-140. Het wezen der kennis, textbook of logic § 14. Rauwenhoff considers the essence of religion indeed to be located in faith in a moral world-order but nevertheless ascribes the form of religion, veneration of a personal God, to imagination. Cf. also Guyau, L’irreligion de l’avenir, Paris, Alcan, 1887. Dr. R. Koch, Natur und Menschengeist, Berlin 1891 etc.

14. Also with this view it is without contradiction that feeling occupies an important place in religion. Religious representations in themselves and without more are still no religion; only then does this arise, when man enters into a real, personal relation to the object of those representations. And such a personal relation to God cannot but act upon feeling; it does not leave man cold and indifferent, but stirs him to the deepest part of his soul; it awakens in him a strong feeling of pleasure and displeasure and cultivates a whole series of affections, consciousness of guilt, pain, repentance, regret, sadness, joy, gladness, trust, peace, rest etc. Religion awakens the deepest and tenderest affections in the human heart. There is no power that seizes and stirs more deeply, more generally, more strongly. All these affections awakened by the religious representations give to religion warmth, [199] intimacy, life, power, in contrast with the deadness of intellectualism and the coldness of moralism. The heart is the centre of religion.

But for that reason feeling is not yet the only religious function, not the only seat and source of religion. Feeling, taken here not as a separate faculty, which it is not, but as the whole of the passions and affections, is of course passive; it reacts only to that which is brought into contact with it by consciousness, and is then turned into a feeling of pleasure or displeasure. It has nothing in itself and brings forth nothing out of itself, but judges things, the representations, which come from outside, only according to whether they are pleasant or unpleasant. In itself feeling, every affection, is neither good nor evil, neither true nor untrue. These are categories not properly belonging to the affections, but to the representations. Of the affections they can only be used, insofar as these are aroused by true or untrue representations, and are accompanied by good or evil directions of the will. In religion, therefore, it is also not feeling, but faith, the religious representation, that is the first; but that faith then also acts upon feeling. When, however, as with Schleiermacher, feeling is detached from faith, from the religious representation, and is made into the proper and only source and seat of religion, then feeling loses its quality, becomes wholly independent of the category of true and untrue, of good and evil, and in fact every feeling as such is already religious, true, good, and beautiful. And that was the dreadful error of the whole of romanticism.

Naturally, therefore, the error readily suggests itself, of confusing and identifying religious feeling with sensuous and with aesthetic feeling. From history the affinity and the transition of religious and sensuous love are known to everyone. But equally dangerous is the mixing of religious and aesthetic feeling, of religion and art. Both are essentially distinct. Religion is life, reality; art is ideal, appearance. Art cannot fill up the gulf between ideal and reality. It does indeed lift us for a moment above reality, and makes us live in the realm of ideals. But this takes place only in the imagination. Reality remains [200] the same for all that. Art does indeed show us in the distance the realm of glory, but it does not bring us into it and does not make us citizens of it. It does not reconcile our guilt, it does not dry our tears, it does not comfort us in life and in death. It makes the Dort niemals Hier. That religion alone does. It is and gives reality. It bestows life and peace. It posits the ideal as true reality and makes us partakers of it. Therefore aesthetic feeling can never replace religious feeling, art can never replace religion. Yet both are connected. Religion and art have from the beginning been closely connected; the decline of the one brought that of the other along with it; the last driving force of art lay in religion. Cf. G. Portig, Religion und Kunst in ihrem gegenseitigen Verhältniss, Iserlohn 1879-’80. I 5. 85. 90. 225 enz. Paulsen, System der Ethik, Berlin, Hertz 1889 S. 434 f. In religion, specifically also in worship, the imagination has its right and its value. Beim religiösen Process ist allerdings auch die Phantasie betheiligt, aber nicht als Erzeugingsprincip, sondern nur als Belebungsprincip. Die Einbildungskraft kan immer nur bereits gegebene Stoffe und Triebe gestalten, aber nie kan sie die Religion selbst erst schaffen, Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. 91. But the stage is least of all suited for a moral institution (Schiller). The theater cannot replace the church and Lessing’s Nathan cannot replace the Bible (Strauss). Ideals and creations of the imagination are no compensation for the reality that religion offers. Religious feeling, however intimate and deep it may otherwise be, is only pure when it is aroused by true representations, Hartmann, Religionsphilosophie II 27-55. S. Hoekstra, Godsdienst en Kunst 1859. Lamers, Wetenschap v. d. godsd. II 164 v. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. S. 97 f.

15. The result is therefore that religion is not limited to one of man’s faculties, but embraces the whole man. The relation to God is a total and central one. We must love God with our whole understanding and with our whole soul and with all our powers, etc. Precisely because God is God, he claims us wholly, in soul and body, with all faculties and in all our relations. Yet there is order also in this relation of man to God. Here too every faculty in man exists and works [201] according to its own nature. Knowledge is the first; no right service of God without right knowledge. Ignoti nulla cupido. The unknown is unloved. He who goes to God must believe that He is and a rewarder of those who seek Him, Hebr. 11:6. Faith is from hearing, Rom. 10:13, 14. The Heathen came to idolatry and unrighteousness because they did not keep God in acknowledgment, Rom. 1:18 v. But that knowledge of God penetrates into the heart and there awakens all kinds of affections of fear and hope, sorrow and joy, sense of guilt and forgiveness, misery and deliverance, as they are depicted for us throughout the whole of Scripture, above all in the psalms. And through the heart it in turn works upon the will; faith reveals itself in love, in works, Jak. 1:27. 1 Joh. 1:5-7. Rom. 2:10, 13. Gal. 5:6. 1 Cor. 13, etc. Head, heart, and hand are equally, though each in its own way, taken possession of by religion; it takes the whole man, soul and body, into its service. Therefore religion also comes into contact with all other powers of culture, especially with science, morality, and art. Proudhon once said: il est étonnant, qu’au fond de toutes les choses nous retrouvons la théologie. But Donoso Cortes rightly answered to that: dans ce fait il n’y a rien d’étonnant que l’étonnement de Mr. Proudhon. Religion as Relation to God indicates the place in which man stands over against all other creatures. It contains dogma, law, and cultus and therefore stands in close connection with science, morality, and art. It embraces the whole man, in his thinking, feeling, and acting, in his whole life, everywhere and at all times. Nothing falls outside religion. It extends its power over the whole man and humanity, over family and society and state. It is the foundation of the true, the good, and the beautiful. It brings unity, coherence, life into world and history. From it science, morality, and art took their origin; to it they return again and find rest. It is the beginning and the end, the soul of everything, the highest and deepest. What God is for the world, that is religion for man, Staudenmaier, Encyklopädie der theol. Wiss. 1834 S. 114 f. 146.

And yet it is distinguished from all the powers of culture and preserves, over against them all, its independence. Religion is [202] central; science, morality, and the cross are partial. Religion embraces the whole human being, but science, morality, and art are rooted in the different faculties of intellect, will, and feeling. Religion intends nothing less than eternal blessedness in communion with God; science, morality, and art are limited to the creatures and wish to enrich this life by the true and the good and the beautiful. Thus religion is to be compared with nothing; it occupies in the life and the history of humanity a proper and independent, a unique and all-governing place. Its indispensability can even be proved from the fact that man, at the very moment that he rejects religion as a delusion, nevertheless again makes some creature into his God, and in other ways seeks compensation for his religious need, in the service of humanity (Comte), in moral idealism (Salter), in ideal-formation (Lange, Pierson), in spiritism, theosophy (Mad. Blavatzky, Mrs. Besant), or in other religions such as Buddhism, Mohammedanism, etc. Cf. H. Druskowitz, Moderne Versuche eines Religionsersatzes. Heidelberg 1886. Id. Zur neuen Lehre. 1888.

C. Origin of religion.

16. Of the origin of religion there is, just as little as of that of language, a satisfactory explanation. The derivation of religion from fear, from priestly fraud, from ignorance, is indeed still always current in some atheistic circles, but nevertheless finds no scientific defence. Darwin, the Descent of man, transl. by Dr. Hartogh Heys van Zouteveen 3rd ed. 1884 I p. 127 f. seeks religion in germ, embryonically, already in the animals, in the love e.g. which a dog feels for his master, and which is accompanied by a feeling of subordination and fear. But this analogy does not hold for various reasons. In the first place we know little of the inward, psychic life of the animals; further, religion is always connected with veneration, cultus, and a religious act, such as prayer, sacrifice etc., does not occur among the animals; and moreover there are in the animals undoubtedly certain qualities of fidelity, attachment etc., but these nevertheless no more constitute religion, than those same qualities among men toward one another are already [203] religion; the proper object of religion, a supersensible power, is wholly unknown to the animals. It therefore remains for the present with the word of Lactantius, Instit. div. 7, 9 religio est paene sola, quae hominem discernit a brutis, cf. Hegel, Vorlesungen über die Religion I 207. Abr. d. A. v. d. Hoeven, Religion the essence of man. 1848. p. 29 f. Hartmann, Religionsphil. I S. 3-11. Saussaye, Lehrb. d. Relig. gesch. I 10 f. Lamers, Wet. v. d. godsd. II 150 f. Hoekstra, Wijsg. godsdienstleer I 1 f. The explanation of religion from animism, E. B. Tylor, Primitive Culture 1872, from fetishism, Fr. Schultze, Der Fetischismus, ein Beitrag zur Anthropologie und Religionsgeschichte 1871, and from the veneration of ancestors, H. Spencer, Ecclesiastical Institutions, being part VI of the principles of sociology, London 1886, § 583 etc. proceeds from the wholly arbitrary presupposition that the lowest forms of religion are the primitive ones, and takes accompanying phenomena of religion for its essence. Also the attempt of Max Müller, e.g. in his The origin and the development of religion traced in the religion of India, Utrecht 1879, to derive religion from the feeling of the infinite, has with good reason found little acceptance; the observation of the endless in nature after all in itself and without more does absolutely not lead to the concept of the infinite and still much less to the veneration of the Infinite One, of God. Equally unacceptable is the hypothesis which seeks the origin of religion in the impulse toward causality, in man’s need for an explanation of world and life, cf. Peschel, Völkerkunde 1881 S. 244 f. Voigt, Fundamentaldogm. 1874 S. 94 f., for religion, in spite of all affinity, is essentially different from metaphysics and philosophy and answers to wholly other needs of man. And finally there are also few any more who with Cicero de nat. deor. 1,15. 2,5. Sextus Emp. 9,18 and the optimistic rationalists of the previous century let religion arise from childish poetry, the grateful feeling, the naive joy, which in the innocent man of nature were aroused by the glorious and beneficent nature, and which led him on to the recognition and veneration of a supernatural being, which bestowed all that, cf. still Pfleiderer, Relig. phil. II 24 f.; scholarship nowadays sees in that portrayal of the innocence of the men of nature [204] and of the beauty and beneficence of nature nothing other than a poetic idyll. Reality shows us everywhere a difficult struggle for life.

Therefore there now prevails a wholly different conception concerning the origin of religion. Nature often stands hostile over against man. With her storms and thunderstorms, with her scorching heat and piercing cold, with her raging forces and unbridled elements, she has set herself upon man’s existence and life. He sees himself continually compelled, over against her, to protect his life, to maintain his existence. But he is weak and powerless. And so, in the anxious conflict between himself and nature, between the feeling of self and of need, he then calls to his aid an invisible power, which stands above nature and can help him in the struggle. Man wants to be happy, but he is not, and by his own power he cannot become so either; therefore, in religion he seeks to make favorable to himself all those personal powers which, according to his conception, are present in the phenomena of nature. This explanation of religion has the peculiarity that it lets religion arise not from theoretical but decidedly from practical motives; not from representations, but from emotions of fear, anxiety, a sense of need, etc. In so far it is a return to the primus in orbe deos fecit timor of Petronius. Furthermore, it is already found in Hume, cf. Stud. u. Krit. 1890, 2tes Heft S. 245, and in the Système de la nature, cf. Stöckl, Gesch. der neueren Philos. 1883 I 386, but has especially in more recent times been accepted in a very wide circle as the best solution of the question concerning the origin of religion. Yet it does not occur with all in the same form. Some say that religion arose from the Selbsterhaltungstrieb in general; in religion man wants to become partaker of some good, whatever this good may be, a sensuous, physical, egoistic good or also a moral, spiritual good; in a word, he wants a happy life, deliverance from physical or also from ethical evil. Thus W. Bender, Das Wesen der Religion und die Grundgesetze der Kirchenbildung Bonn 1886. Ed. Zeller, Ursprung u. Wesen der Religion (Vorträge und Abhandlungen, II 1877 S. 1-83). J. Kaftan, Das Wesen der christl. Religion, Basel, Bahnmaier 1881. S. 38 f. H. Siebeck, [205] Lehrb. der Religionsphilos. 1893 S. 58 f. Others seek the origin of religion decidedly in ethical Selbstbehauptung, in the maintenance by man of his moral freedom and worth over against the necessity and the compulsion of the physical world. In this way Kant already postulated, on the ground of man’s moral nature, the existence of a God who could make the world of necessity serviceable to that of freedom, the law of nature to the moral law, the physis to the ethos. And in the same way reason Ritschl, Die christl. Lehre von der Rechtf. u. Versöhnung, 2e Aufl. III 1883 S. 186. W. Herrmann, Die Religion im Verhältniss zum Welterkennen und zur Sittlichkeit, Halle, Niemeyer 1879. S. 267 f. cf. also Rauwenhoff, Wijsbeg. v. d. godsd. 94 v. Finally there are also still those who recognize in religion not only an ethical but also a mystical element, and who therefore consider it grounded not more or less in a free act of will but in the nature of man; according to these, in religion man certainly seeks ethical Selbstbehauptung, but yet also something else and more, namely communion with, life in God, and thereby precisely also freedom over against the world; religion is first of all a relation to God, and thereafter to the world. Thus Pfleiderer, Religionsphilosophie, 2e Aufl. Berlin 1883. II 28 f. Id. Grundriss der christl. Glaubens- und Sittenlehre. 3e Aufl. Berlin, Reimer 1886 § 10. Lipsius, Lehrb. der ev. prot. Dogm. 2e Aufl. 1879 § 18. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. S. 99 f.

17. Yet this explanation of religion, however generally accepted, cannot satisfy. In the first place, the idea of God remains unexplained here. Usually one says that the undeveloped, childlike natural man makes no distinction between the personal and the impersonal, thinks the forces in nature according to the analogy of himself, and deems all things inhabited by souls, spirits. The foundation and presupposition for religion is then the so-called animistic worldview. But in the first place it is very improbable that the obvious distinction between personal beings and impersonal things was unknown to the first human beings. Next, belief in souls and spirits, who dwell and work in the phenomena of nature, is in itself still no religion; these souls or spirits become a religious object [206] only when the concept of the divine is transferred to them. There must be assumed in man a certain awareness of the deity, in order to be able to make the souls and spirits, which he thought present in the forces of nature, into the object of his religious veneration. To be sure, the psychological method attempts to reverse the order; according to it the natural man first placed himself in a religious relation to one or another personally conceived natural force, and later abstracted from that the concept of the divine, Hartmann, Religionsphil. I 15. But in any case it does not proceed thus with historical human beings; all first receive through instruction and upbringing the concept of the Deity and develop on that basis a religious relation. And there is not a single proof that with the first human beings it proceeded otherwise or could also proceed otherwise. A religious relation to one or another power always already presupposes the idea of God; and this remains unexplained with the above-mentioned method. In addition, the origin of religion in the subjective sense also remains incomprehensible with this psychological analysis. Let belief in personal beings in nature be given; but why is and especially when does the seeking of any sensible or moral good from those beings become religion? Religion after all arises only when not in general help is asked, as human beings also seek it from one another and in art and science, but when in a wholly particular way faith, trust, awareness of dependence with respect to an invisible divine power is awakened in the heart. Religion always presupposes a certain distinction between God and world, between the power of a being above and the subordinate forces in nature. To be sure, then that divine power can be thought as indwelling in the phenomena of nature, but the object of religious veneration is nevertheless never the natural force in itself but the divine being, which reveals itself and works in it. The greatest objection against the above-mentioned explanation, however, lies in this, that with it God becomes nothing other than a helper in need, a being whose existence has been devised in order to provide man with some good or other. Religion becomes a means to satisfy the sensible or moral, but always nevertheless egoistic needs [207] of man. Egoism has been the source and the origin of religion, Hartmann, Religionsphil. I 27. The first form, in which this explanation of the origin of religion was rendered above, states this clearly and without concealment. In the second form religion is derived not from sensible but from moral needs; the Deity is no product of eudaemonistic wishes but a postulate of practical reason. However, this makes little difference in the essence of the matter. The subjective and egoistic point of departure is not overcome; God remains a servant of man. The third form attempts to avoid this egoism, by recognizing in religion a mystical element and thus making God the direct object of religious veneration; but here too this mysticism has been added later, it has not been the principle and the origin of religion. With the above-mentioned explanation, in whatever form it may be presented, man always first stands in relation to the world; and out of the conflict with that world religion and the idea of God are born. God thus comes to stand in the third place; He becomes a Wunschwesen, a product of man’s egoism, an aid in the struggle against nature. The affinity of all these explanations with that of Feuerbach is clearly evident. But why, so it can be asked, does man not content himself with the forces present in nature? Why does he not seek in science, art, industry etc., in all the factors of culture, the help that he needs in the struggle against nature? How is it to be explained that man continues to believe in the gods, creations of his wishes, even where they so many times disappoint him and leave him to his own lot? Whence is it that he sacrifices everything, even the dearest that he has, to his gods and deems nothing too costly for their veneration? How does it finally come about that he continues to serve the gods, even when by other means and ways his dominion over nature gradually expands? If the above-mentioned explanation of the origin of religion is the correct one, then over against art and science it forfeits its independence and its end is reached as soon as man can save himself in another way. [208]

18. But, apart from these special objections, there is, against the method itself according to which the origin of religion is investigated, serious misgiving. What does it mean, that the arising of religion must be explained scientifically? It cannot mean that the religion of the first man or of the first men is historically traced. For the history of religions leaves us here completely in the lurch; the historical method is unusable. To hold the religious forms of the lowest, savage peoples for the original ones; for that there is lacking, as is also more and more being seen, all right. The method therefore can be no other than the psychological one, and this can of course never bring it further than to a hypothesis, which seems plausible and, for lack of better, may for a time rejoice in a general assent. But which is the question that this psychological method, in the search for the origin of religion, sets itself? Surely no other than this: from which causes and forces in man or in mankind has religion proceeded? There must therefore be sought for that point, wo noch nicht religiöse Lebenskräfte des Menschen zu dem Lebenskeim der Religion sich verbinden? Holsten, bij Rauwenhoff 50. Hypothetically, therefore, a man must be assumed, so undeveloped and barbarous, that of religion with him there is as yet no question. An original, inborn semen religionis may on this standpoint not be acknowledged. For then this original feeling, or whatever one wishes to call it otherwise, is something scientifically unexplained, a kind of mystical revelation, a presupposition already of that which one seeks to explain, Dr. Bruining, Gids Juni 1884. The psychological method therefore demands that religion be explained from factors in man, which in themselves are not religious, but which through a certain combination, under the influence of nature from without, cause religion to arise. But such a godless man is a pure Gedankending, an equally idle and empty abstraction as the natural man of Rousseau and of the adherents of the contrat social; in reality he has never existed. Religion itself thus becomes wholly a product of chance, just like morality in Darwin. A “mere chance”, says Prof. Rauwenhoff 97, cf. 193, 250, 263 could bring man to it, to make for himself some or other thing from nature into a god. Another combination of the factors, and there would never have been religion. Thereby religion loses its independent place, its universality and necessity; even its value and its right are then no longer to be maintained. For it is not true, what Zeller, Vorträge und Abhandl. II 57 f. asserts, that the value of religion is independent of the manner of its arising; if the origin of religion is accidental, it loses the firm foundation on which it must rest. And also its right of existence is then threatened in a serious manner. For if religion is thus explained, that the existence of God thereby in no way needs to be assumed, then it is, even if its arising were psychologically a necessity, metaphysically nevertheless nothing other than an absurdity. The psychological method indeed attempts to understand religion without the existence of God. Man is a mere natural being, a product of nature. He is the one who, led by all sorts of circumstances, is brought to religion and produces the idea of God. God does not create man, man creates God. The religie subjectiva is the source of the religio objectiva. Man determines whether he and how he wishes to serve God. The psychological method is hereby judged; it is in principle in conflict with the essence of religion and therefore destroys the phenomenon that it has to explain, Kant, Lotze, Albrecht Ritschl, eine kritische Studie von L. Stählin, Leipzig 1888 S. 245 f. Compare further on the origin of religion Rauwenhoff, Theol. Tijdschr. 1885 bl. 257 v. Id. Wijsb. v. d. godsd. bl. 37-109. Saussaye, Lehrb. der Rel. Gesch. I 21 f. en de daar aangeh. litteratuur. Siebeck, Lehrb. der Rel. Philos. 43 f. Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsdienstleer I 136 v.

D. Result.

19. The preceding investigation compels us to choose another point of departure and to follow another method. The essence and the origin of religion cannot be explained by the historical and psychological method; its right and value cannot thereby be maintained. It will not do to understand religion without God. God is the great presupposition of religion. His existence and revelation is the [210] foundation on which all religion rests. Now it is indeed called unscientific, in the explanation of any phenomenon, to go back to God; and indeed He may also not serve as asylum ignorantiae. But it is nevertheless a poor science that may take no account of God and seeks to explain all things outside of and without Him. In the scientific explanation of religion this holds in a double sense. For God is here the proper and direct object. Without Him all religion is an absurdity. The choice here stands only between these two, that either religion is a folly, because God does not exist or is absolutely unknowable, or that it is truth, but then inexorably, and in a strictly logical and scientific sense, demands and presupposes existence and revelation. Whoever cannot accept the first is compelled to assume the second and to acknowledge God as the principium essendi of all religion. There is religion only because God is and wills to be served by creatures. Only then, when the existence of God is established, are the essence and origin, right and value of religion to be understood.

But religion demands still more. It presupposes not only that God exists, but also that He reveals and makes Himself known in one way or another. All religions have this concept of revelation. It is not imposed upon religion from without, but flows forth from its origin and essence itself. There is no religion without revelation; revelation is the necessary correlate of religion. The essence of religion consists not only subjectively in a religious disposition, which expresses itself at pleasure, but also in a religio objectiva, in a dogma, morality, and cultus, which therefore have authority for the believer only because, according to his conviction, they contain the will and the service of God. The origin of religion is historically not to be indicated and psychologically not to be explained, but necessarily points to revelation as its objective foundation. The distinction between religion on the one side and science and art on the other side leads us by the hand to that same concept of revelation. Nature, the world around us, is the source of our knowledge and artis magistra. But in religion that same world comes into consideration under another point of view, viz. as revelation of God, as making known His eternal power and divinity. In religion it is a wholly [211] different matter for man than in science and art. In religion he does not seek an increase of his knowledge nor a satisfaction of his imagination, but an eternal life in communion with God, a real change of being, a deliverance from sin and misery. In religion it is God Himself that is at issue for him, because he realizes that only in God can he find rest and peace. Therefore religion demands another source than science and art; it presupposes a revelation, which causes God Himself to come to him and brings him into communion with Him. Religion is in its essence and origin a product of revelation. Gradually this also begins to be acknowledged. The philosophy of religion, which for a time deemed the concept of revelation not worthy of serious discussion and subjected it only to a negative criticism, is compelled to reckon with it. The conception of that revelation is still very different and sometimes very incorrect; but the fact nevertheless speaks strongly, that many take up this concept again and attempt to ascribe to it a positive sense, cf. Pfleiderer, Grundriss § 13 f. Rauwenhoff, Wijsb. 46. Hartmann, II 69 f. Biedermann, Dogm. I 264. Lipsius, Dogm. § 53. Nitzsch, Dogm. 127. Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsd. I 136 v. enz. Holy Scripture proceeds from the existence and from the revelation of God. God does not leave Himself without witness, and therefore on man’s side there is a seeking, whether he might find and feel after Him. According to Scripture, revelation existed both before and after the fall. Revelation is the principium cognoscendi externum of religion.

If essence and origin of religion are thus explained from revelation, this must not be understood in the Socinian sense, as if religion were not grounded in man’s nature but had arisen from an external communication of doctrine, Fock, Der Socin. 291 f. In that case Schelling, Philos. der Mythol. I 141 would rightly have made the remark: wäre der ursprüngliche Mensch nicht an sich schon Bewusstseyn von Gott, müsste ihm ein Bewusstseyn von Gott erst durch einen besonderen Actus zu Theil werden, so müssten die, welche diess annehmen, selbst einen ursprünglichen Atheïsmus des menschlichen Bewusstseyns behaupten. Religion would then be a donum superadditum, not essentially proper to human nature. But man is man because he is the image of God; he is [212] immediately, as man, a religious being. Religion is not the essence of man, as des Amorie van der Hoeven Jr. expressed himself less correctly, for religion is no substantia but a habitus or virtus; but it is nevertheless an essential property of human nature, given with it as such and so inseparably bound to it, that it has indeed been destroyed by sin, but could not be eradicated. Therefore religion is also universal and has also such great power in life and history. Whether one wishes it or not, in the end one always runs up against a certain religious disposition in man. One can call it differently, semen religionis, sensus divinitatis (Calvin), religious feeling (Schleiermacher, Opzoomer), faith (Hartmann, Relig. Philos. II 67) etc., but it is always nevertheless a certain receptivity of human nature, to become aware of the divine, to which philosophical investigation into religion must return and in which it must end. Beyond that it cannot penetrate. For one of two: religion is essentially proper to human nature and thus given with it from the outset, or man was originally not a religious being, thus also not a man but an animal and has gradually developed into a religious being; and then religion is accidental and a transient moment in the process of evolution. The question to which philosophical investigation finally descends is this: is man from the beginning man, image of God, akin to God, a religious being, or has he gradually developed into that? Has culture or rough, wild nature been the first condition of the human race? Is the beginning of humanity absolute or relative? Cf. Schelling, Vorles. über die Meth. des akad. Studiums, Werke I 5 S. 286 f. He who wishes to maintain religion in its essence, and regards and acknowledges it as an essential property of human nature, takes the beginning of man as absolute and lets him be akin to God and religiously disposed from the outset. Such a one can also have no objection any longer to the status integritatis, in which Scripture lets the first man appear. According to Scripture, man has been man from the first moment of his existence, created in God’s image, and thus from that same moment also a religious being. Religion is [213] not later added by separate creation or in the long path of evolution, but lies of itself enclosed in man’s being created in God’s image. Indeed that original condition has been corrupted and destroyed by sin, but man nevertheless remains akin to God, he is θεου γενος and continues to seek Him, whether he might feel after Him and find Him. To the objective revelation of God there thus corresponds in man a certain facultas, aptitudo of his nature, to notice the divine. God does no half work. He not only creates the light, but also the eye, to behold that light. To the external the internal corresponds. The ear is adapted to the world of tones. The logos in the creatures corresponds with the logos in man and makes science possible. The beautiful in nature finds resonance in his sense of beauty. And so there is not only an external, objective, but also an internal subjective revelation. The former is the principium cognoscendi externum of religion, and the latter the principium cognoscendi internum. Both principia are most closely connected with each other, as light with the eye, the thought in the world with reason in man. The question which of the two was first, the external or the internal revelation, is entirely superfluous. In the same moment that God revealed himself to man by creating him in his image, this one knew God and served Him and conversely. And true, genuine religion can exist only in a perfect harmony of the internal with the external revelation; truly religious, image of God, servant of God, child of God, man in the full sense is he who loves God, as He is and makes himself known through revelation, with his whole heart and with his whole soul and with all his powers. Just as in science, so also in religion threefold principia are therefore to be distinguished. There is religion, because God is God and as God wishes to be served by his rational creatures. To that end He reveals himself to man in word and deed — principium cognoscendi externum, and makes him subjectively capable of knowing and loving God through that revelation — principium cognoscendi internum. The forms in which revelation takes place outwardly and inwardly can be altered in accordance with the different condition in which man as creatura mutabilis can find himself [214] . They are different in the status integritatis and corruptionis, in the status gratiae and gloriae. But the three principia remain the same. There is no religion except because God makes himself known objectively and subjectively to man. And again these principia also in religion find their foundation in the trinitarian being of God. It is the Father who in the Son and through the Spirit reveals himself. No one knows the Father except him to whom the Son by the Spirit wills to reveal it, Mt. 11:27, Joh. 16:13, 14, 1 Cor. 2:10. Cf. Schleiermacher, Der Christ. Gl. § 4. Schelling, Philosophie u. Religion, Sämmtl. Werke Abth I. Bd. VI 26 f. Einleitung in die Philosophie der Mythologie, Sämmtl. Werke, Abth. II. Bd. 1-4. I 74 f. 119 f. Ulrici, Gott und die Natur, 2e Aufl. Leipzig 1866 S. 767 f. J. A. Dorner, Christ. Glaubenslehre, Berlin, Hertz. 1879 I S. 552 f. Aug. Dorner, Ueber das Wesen der Religion, Stud. u. Krit. 1883 S. 217 f. J. T. Beck, Vorles. über Christl. Glaubenslehre, Gütersloh 1887 I 149 f. 186 f. M. Kähler, Wissenschaft der Christl. Lehre, Erl. 1883 I 122. J. Köstlin, Der Glaube, sein Grund, Wesen und Gegenstand. Gotha 1859 S. 13 f. Id. Der Ursprung der Religion. Stud. u. Krit. 1890 S. 213-294. Id. Die Begründung unserer sittlich-religiösen Ueberzeugung. Berlin 1893 S. 54 f. Gloatz, Spekulative Theologie, Gotha 1883 I 1 S. 130 f. Heman, Der Ursprung der Religion, Basel 1886. C. Pesch, Der Gottesbegriff, Freiburg 1885. Dr. T. Cannegieter, The task and method of the Philosophy of religion. 1886. Dr. Francken in Faith and Freedom 1887 instalment 1, 2. Drijber ib. 1890 instalment 5. p. 426-455. Pressensé, Les Origines 449 S.

CHAPTER II. External Principle.

Monergism Books

§ 9. General Revelation.

A. Concept of revelation.

1. Religion, investigated in its essence and origin, itself leads on to the concept of revelation. The history of religions makes this concept known to us as the necessary correlate of all religion. The philosophy of religion can no longer pass this concept by in silence. But the manner in which revelation is conceived in theology and philosophy is not always in agreement with that concept itself. The concept revelation brings with it a certain content, which must be acknowledged in its truth, in order still to be able to continue speaking of revelation. It may not be used as a flag that covers a false cargo. In the first place revelation is a thoroughly religious concept; not philosophy, but religion, not reason but history puts it into our hands. To scholarship and philosophy, therefore, the right must be denied to determine this concept a priori and then to make the historical and religious phenomena, which are brought together under the name of revelation, fit it exactly. It speaks for itself that philosophical systems such as pantheism and materialism cannot acknowledge this concept in its right. In these systems there is no place for revelation. Both are, by virtue of their principle, incapable of appraising revelation and thus also religion, with which it is inseparably connected, at its true value. If God does not exist and, according to Feuerbach’s saying, Wesen des Christenthums, 2e Aufl. 401, the secret of theology is anthropology, then religion and revelation are thereby judged of themselves and are nothing but a hallucination of the human spirit. And likewise pantheism, by the nature of the case, cannot ascribe any reality to revelation. If God and man are one in substance, a relation of man to God, such as comes about in religion, is no longer possible. Religion is then at most the coming to self-consciousness of God in man, the return of the Absolute to itself in human consciousness. Revelation can here be nothing else than a name for religion in man, viewed from its objective side. Thus, e.g., Ed. von Hartmann, Religionsphilosophie II 71, 75 u. s. w., says that revelation objectively and faith subjectively are one and the same act, conceived from the divine and from the human side. An external, objective revelation then does not exist. Revelation is nothing but the indwelling and working of God in every human being. Leaving aside now the question whether in this too a truth is not enclosed and whether objective revelation must not be completed subjectively in illumination, it is nevertheless clear that revelation according to the idea which religion and the history of religions make known to us is hereby entirely lost. Religion, after all, is always a relation of man to a Divine person, whose objective and real existence for religious consciousness is raised above all doubt. As soon as man begins to doubt the distinct and independent existence of the object of his veneration, it is over with his religion. This relation of man to God in religion is of an ethical nature (above p. 193). Religion is not a physical or metaphysical communion of God and man, as is so often said. It does not consist in an essential unity, a unio or communio physica of man with God. It is not a substance of man, and does not constitute his being, his essentia. Religion precisely always presupposes that God and man, though related, are nevertheless distinct. And it itself then consists, not in a relation of God to man, for God has no religion, but in a relation of man to God. This relation is of course not physical, metaphysical, realis, but ethical, moral in nature. It consists in this that man knows God and loves Him and lives for Him, Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der religiösen Erkenntniss, Würzburg 1856 I S. 1-10. Hoekstra, wijsg. Godsdienstleer I 57 v. 64. Religion does indeed presuppose that God and man stand in kinship and in a good sense also in communion with one another, but is itself nevertheless not two- but one-sided. However intimately religion and revelation may also cohere with one another, they are nevertheless two; they are not two sides of one and the same thing, but essentially and materially different from one another. Just as the eye and the light, the ear and the tone, the logos in us and the logos outside us are related and yet distinct; so it is also with religion and revelation. It is in the religious domain as on every other terrain. We come naked into the world and bring nothing with us. We receive all our nourishment, both in a spiritual and in a natural sense, from outside. And also in religion the content comes to us from outside through revelation.

2. Revelation, as this concept is handed to us by religion and is here still taken in the widest sense, is all action which proceeds from God, in order to bring man and keep him in that peculiar relation to Him which is designated by the name of religion. In this connection it is, in the first place, always and everywhere a matter of conceiving this revelation as an action, as a deed on God’s side. God never does anything unconsciously; He does everything with thought and has in everything a purpose. Revelation is never an unconscious emanation, an involuntary shining-through of God in His works; but always a conscious, free, active making Himself known to man. Religion and revelation both, by their nature, rest on the foundation of theism, i.e. on the faith that God and man exist not separated but indeed distinct. Strongly expressed, revelation always has as presupposition that there are two worlds, a supernatural and a natural, a heavenly and an earthly. And now revelation is every operation which proceeds from that other invisible world into this visible world, in order to make man mindful of the things that are above. The ways and forms under which God reveals Himself can be different, just as the one man can make himself known to the other in different ways. God can reveal Himself directly [218] and immediately; and in doing so He can make use of ordinary or extraordinary means. These forms are in a certain sense of subordinate, because of instrumental, significance. But always revelation, whether it comes to us in an ordinary or an unusual way, is a deed on God’s side. Whoever understands it thus is in principle a supranaturalist, whether he accepts the possibility of the miracle or not. The question of naturalism and supranaturalism is not first decided with the so-called supernatural revelation, but is in fact already decided here at the entrance, with the concept of revelation in the general sense. Deism is untenable. There is only a choice between theism and pantheism (materialism). Pantheism has no revelation and therefore no religion either. Theism is of itself supranaturalistic, not in the historical meaning of that word, but in this sense, that it recognizes an ordo supra hanc naturam and assumes an operation of that world in this. Religion, revelation, supranaturalism, theism stand and fall with one another. The purpose of revelation is no other than to awaken and to cultivate religion in man. Everything that intends this and is serviceable to it is revelation in the proper sense. Revelation coincides with all the works of God in nature and grace. It comprises the whole creation and re-creation. All that is and happens is for the pious a means to lead him up to God. The usual definitions, that revelation would consist in communication of doctrine or of life etc., already appear here to be far too narrow. In His revelation God is concerned to place man in a religious relation to Him. Religion, however, comprises the whole man with all his faculties and powers. In revelation God approaches the whole man, in order to win him wholly for His service of love. Yes, revelation cannot have as its purpose to place the individual man in a religious relation to God. Humanity is one whole. It is the object of God’s love. Revelation therefore has as its final goal to make humanity itself as one whole into a kingdom, into a people of God. Revelation is not an isolated fact that stands by itself in history. It is a system of deeds of God, beginning with creation, ending in the new heaven and the new earth. It is instruction, [219] education, guidance, government, renewal, forgiveness etc., it is all that together. Revelation is all that God does, in order to re-create humanity into His image and likeness.

B. General and special revelation.

3. Christian theology soon came to make in this revelation an important distinction. On the one hand, the connection and the agreement of the religion of the Christians and the religion of the Heathens, of theology and philosophy, could not be wholly denied; and on the other hand Christianity was nevertheless a proper, independent religion, in every respect different from that of the Heathens. Thus one was led to the distinction of the revelatio (religio, theologia) naturalis and supernaturalis. In substance it is already found among the oldest church fathers. Justin Martyr speaks of an ἀνθρωπειος διδασκαλια, which is obtained through το ἐμφυτον παντι γενει ἀνθρωπων σπερμα του λογου and of a γνωσις και θεωρια, which becomes our share only through Christ, Apol. II 8, 10, 13. Tertullian has a separate treatise de testimonio animae, and speaks of a knowledge of God from the works of creation, and of another more complete one through men, filled with God’s Spirit, Apolog. II c. 18. Irenaeus speaks repeatedly in the same sense, adv. haer. II c. 6, 9, 28. III 25. IV 6. Augustine acknowledges a revelation of God in nature, de Gen. ad. litt. 4, 32, de civ. Dei 8, 11 sq. 19, 1 etc. but places alongside the ratio the auctoritas, the fides, c. Acad. 3,20 de util. cred. 11, which alone leads to the true knowledge of God, Conf. 5,5, 7,26, de civ. 10,29. With Damascenus, de fide orthod. I. c. 1 sq. this distinction already bears all the character of a dogma. Also the later division of the theologia naturalis into insita and acquisita is already to be found among the oldest ecclesiastical writers. Tertullian appeals to the inward testimony of the soul and to the contemplation of God’s works. Augustine says expressly that God can be known from the visible things, de Gen. ad. litt. 4,32 but points especially to self-consciousness and self-knowledge as the way to eternal truth, de vera relig. 72, de mag. 38, de trin. 4,1. Damascenus, de fide orth. I c. 1 and 3, already clearly places the inborn and the acquired knowledge [220] of God alongside each other. Not so soon were the boundaries between both kinds of revelation demarcated. For a long time one still attempted to prove the Christian dogmata from nature and reason. Augustine attempted the Trinity, de trin. lib. 9-15, Anselm in his Cur deus homo the incarnation and satisfaction, Albertus Magnus, cf. Stöckl, Philos. des M. A. II. 384 f., and Thomas, S. c. Gent. II. 15 sq. to prove creation aposteriori. The furthest in this was Raymund de Sabunde, who in his Liber naturae sive creaturarum, later wrongly called Theologia naturalis (ed. of J. Sighart, Solisbaci, 1852 without the prologue, which was condemned in 1595) tried to build up the whole Christian doctrine of faith out of the nature of man, without help of Scripture and tradition and with avoidance of the scholastic method. But this rational argumentation was nevertheless only a help, which came afterward; the dogmata stood fixed apriori on the ground of revelation; adjuvantur in fide invisibilium per ea, quae facta sunt, Lombardus, Sent. I dist. 3, 6. cf. 2, 1. Moreover, the knowledge which could be obtained from nature was limited to some articuli mixti, which concentrated around the three concepts God, virtue, and immortality, Thomas, S. c. Gent. Lib. 1-3. The distinction between the theol. naturalis and supernaturalis, however, was in scholasticism stretched ever more tightly and passed over into an absolute opposition. Through natural revelation there was of God and divine matters some strict scientific knowledge to be obtained, Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 1 art. 5, cf. Bellarminus, Controv. IV p. 277 sq. Thomas is so firmly convinced of this, that he raises the question whether in that case the acceptance of these truths known from nature does not then lose all its merit. Believing is after all only meritorious if it is not knowing but an accepting as true on authority, an act of the intellect ex motu voluntatis motae per gratiam, ib. II 2 qu. 2 art. 9. The answer to that question is that knowing indeed diminishes the ratio fidei; but that nevertheless in the believer the ratio caritatis always remains, i.e. the disposition to accept the known also always again on God’s authority as true, ib. II 2 qu. 2 art. 10; and this disposition, to believe the articuli mixti on authority, remains, because of special circumstances (see presently under No 7), also always [221] necessary. To this knowledge from nature and reason there has now by supernatural revelation been added the knowledge of the mysteria, but this rests exclusively on authority and is and remains from the beginning to the end a matter of faith. The mysteries of Christianity belong to an order which not for an accidental reason, through sin, but which by its nature for every man, also for the sinless man, yes even for the angels, is in the proper sense supernatural and therefore can never be known otherwise than by revelation. With special revelation this peculiar Roman doctrine comes up for further discussion. But here it may already be remarked that knowing and believing, ratio and auctoritas, natural and supernatural revelation stand with Rome dualistically alongside each other. Rome thus on the one hand acknowledges the right of rationalism on the terrain of natural revelation and condemns the excessive supranaturalism that in the articuli mixti also deems no knowledge possible except through revelation. And on the other hand it upholds supranaturalism on the terrain of the mysteries as strictly as possible and condemns all rationalism that apriori or aposteriori in the dogmata seeks to escape authority and faith and tries to make them pass over into knowing. It rejects both Tertullian and Origen and condemns both the traditionalism of de Bonald and the rationalism of Hermes (above p. 94 f). The Roman church confesses, according to the Vaticanum, sess. III Const. Dogm. de fide cath. cap. 2, Deum.... naturali humanae rationis lumine e rebus creatis certo cognosci posse, but that it has pleased God, alia, eaque supernaturali via, se ipsum ac aeterna voluntatis decreta humano generi revelare.

4. The Reformation adopted this distinction between revelatio naturalis and supernaturalis and yet in principle gave it a wholly different meaning. To be sure, the Reformers assumed a revelation of God in nature. But man was by sin so darkened in his understanding, that he also could not rightly know and understand this revelation. There was therefore a twofold necessity, viz. that God should again include in the special revelation those truths which in themselves are knowable from nature; and that man, in order again to notice God in nature, first had to be illumined by God’s Spirit. In order to understand the general revelation of God in nature, [222] objectively the special revelation in Holy Scripture was necessary, which for that reason was compared by Calvin to a pair of spectacles, and subjectively man had need of the eye of faith, in order to behold God also in the works of his hands. Equally important was the modification introduced by the Reformation in the conception of supernatural revelation. This was not in the first place supernatural because it an sich belonged to another order and went beyond the understanding also of sinless man and of the angels; but it was supernatural especially because it far surpassed the thoughts and wishes of sinful, fallen man, as will later be shown. With the Reformers the theologia naturalis thus lost its rational independence. It was not treated separately but incorporated into the Christian doctrine of faith, Zwingli, Comm. de vera et falsa relig. Op. ed. Schuler et Schulthess III 156 sq. Calvin, Inst. I c. 1-5. Polanus, Synt. Theol. I cap. 10. Martyr, Loci Comm. loc. 2 etc. But there were various causes which held back this Reformation principle in its development and full application. There was excessus, overstrain, on the one side. Anabaptism wholly rejected the ordo naturalis and attempted in a revolutionary way to found a kingdom of heaven on earth. The Socinians rejected the theologia naturalis wholly and entirely, and derived all knowledge of God from revelation, Catech. Racov. qu. 46-49. Fock, Der Socin. 307 f. Luther, through his combating of the scholastic doctrine, naturalia mansisse integra, went so far that he forbade Aristotle, reason, philosophy in theologicis any right to speak and called the Vernunft in religious matters stock-, starr-und gar blind, Köstlin, Luthers Theologie II 287 f. Luthardt, Ethik Luthers, 14 f. Strauss, Glaubenslehre I 311 f. The strict Lutherans followed the Master; and the Formula Concordiae, although recognizing that humana ratio seu intellectus naturalis hominis obscuram aliquam notitiae illius scintillulam reliquam habet, quod sit Deus, et particulam aliquam legis tenet, II Pars. Sol. Decl. II. de lib. arb., J. T. Müller, Die symb. Bücher der ev. luth. K. 5e Aufl. 1882 S. 589, nevertheless lays the emphasis so one-sidedly on the darkness and the impotence of the natural man in matters of religion, that the coherence and the connection of the special with the general revelation is wholly [223] broken; man is in rebus spiritualibus et ad conversionem aut regenerationem nothing more than a lapis, truncus aut limus, ib. with Müller S. 594.

The reaction against it could not fail to come. In Anabaptism and Socinianism the excessive supernaturalism turned into rationalism. Luther was compelled, because he could not after all deny all insight and judgment to reason, to make a sharp distinction between the spiritual and the worldly, the heavenly and the earthly, the eternal and the temporal, Köstlin, Luthers Theol. II 244 f. And in his footsteps the Luth. theologians made a distinction between duo hemisphaeria, quorum unum inferius, alterum superius; in earthly things reason is still free and capable of much good, here it is to a certain extent independent and independent of faith, Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. 192 f. Calvin too, although by his doctrine of the gratia communis in a much more favorable condition than Luther, nevertheless did not always get beyond the old dualistic antithesis of the revelatio naturalis and supernaturalis, Inst. II, 2, 12, 13. Reason thereby again received some authority alongside faith. It seemed that it did not always have to be led by faith, but was free and independent in a domain, be it ever so small and insignificant. With this right granted to it, at least not seriously contested, it has made gains; gradually it has extended its power. First in civil matters, then in science, soon in philosophy, and finally also in theology it raises itself alongside and over against faith. Alsted published a Theol. naturalis separately in 1615, and counted as its content some seven dogmata: deus est, super omnia diligendus, honeste vivendum est, quod tibi non vis fieri alteri ne feceris, suum cuique tribuendum est, nemo laedendus est, plus est in bono communi positum quam in particulari, cf. Praecognita 1623 p. 37-114. Many Reformed theologians followed this example, especially when the philosophy of Cartesius gained influence, Doedes, Inl. tot de leer van God, 2e dr. 1880 bl. 200 v. Through English deism and German rationalism the theologia naturalis or rationalis increased so much in power and esteem that it rejected the theologia revelata as wholly unnecessary. Herbert of Cherbury 1581-1648, gave to the religio naturalis five articles as its content: esse deum summum, coli debere, virtutem pietatemque [224] esse praecipuas partes cultus divini, dolendum esse ob peccata ab iisque resipiscendum, dari ex bonitate justitiaque divina praemium vel poenam tum in hac vita tum post hanc vitam, Lechler, Gesch. des engl. Deismus 42. But after it had banished the theologia revelata, it in its turn has itself also been judged. Kant argued in his critique of pure reason that it is limited to sensibly perceptible phenomena and can penetrate neither to the supersensible nor to the supernatural. The history of religions showed that no single religion had enough with the revelatio naturalis, that nowhere did a religio naturalis exist and that all religions were positive. And the criticism of Scripture undermined the revelatio supernaturalis and erased the boundaries between it and the revelatio naturalis. The conviction thereby became general that, in order to obtain any knowledge of God, another way than that of reason and of scientific demonstration had to be taken, namely that of faith or of moral experience or of imagination. The theologia and religio naturalis, and therewith also the revelatio naturalis, lost its value. The proofs for God’s existence, the soul, immortality were abandoned and banished from dogmatics. Pierson, Eene levensbeschouwing 83, even said that instruction in the theol. naturalis at the state universities was a misapplication of the country’s monies. Nevertheless it has in the law on higher education been included again under the name of history of the doctrine concerning God and of philosophy of religion. Prof. Doedes rejected it in his Encyclopaedie bl. 190 v., but nevertheless in fact treated it again in his Inleiding tot de leer van God, 2e dr. 1880 and De Leer van God 1871. Everything points to it, as will be shown in the locus de Deo, that the proofs for God’s existence are again rising in value. The good thought that lies in the old theologia naturalis is gradually being recognized better again.

5. Scripture does indeed know the concept of a fixed order of nature, but in revelation it nevertheless makes no distinction between the natural and the supernatural. It uses for both the same words, e.g. גלה, φανερουν and ἀποκαλυπτειν also for the revelatio naturalis Job 12:22, 33:16, 36:10; Rom. 1:18, [225] 19. Nösgen, Beweis des Glaubens, Nov. 1890 S. 416-417 therefore objects wrongly, to give to the revelation of God in nature already the name of revelation. Properly speaking, from the standpoint of Scripture all revelation, also that in nature, is supernatural. The word itself also includes nothing concerning the manner in which something becomes manifest, but only says that something which was hidden comes to light. In the religious sphere it indicates that God possesses a life of his own, independent, distinct from nature, and can now from his hiddenness in one way or another come into view before the eye of rational creatures. Of revelation can therefore in the proper sense speak only he who recognizes the supranatural, an ordo supra hanc naturam; and everyone who uses the word in this sense is in principle a supranaturalist, even if he assumes only a revelation in a natural way. The distinction of revelatio naturalis and supernaturalis is not derived from the action of God, which expresses itself in the one and in the other revelation, but from the manner in which that revelation takes place, namely per or praeter hanc naturam. In origin all revelation is supranatural. God always works Joh. 5:17. That working of God outwardly began with creation. Creation is the first revelation of God, beginning and foundation of all subsequent revelation. The biblical concept of revelation is rooted in that of creation, Oehler, Theol. des A. T. 1882 S. 21. Through creation God first stepped outward for creatures and revealed himself to creatures. When God creates the world through his Word and makes it living through his Spirit, then therein the basic lines of all subsequent revelations are already drawn. But to creation providence immediately attaches itself. This too is an almighty and omnipresent power and deed of God. All that is and happens is a work of God in the proper sense, and for the pious a revelation of his virtues and perfections. Thus Scripture views nature and history. Creation, preservation, and government are one mighty, continuing revelation of God. No nature poetry has surpassed or equaled that of Israel, Pierson, Geestel. Voorouders I Israel bl. 389 v. Everything in nature speaks to the pious of God. The heavens declare God’s glory, the firmament his hands’ work. God’s voice is upon the great waters. That voice breaks the cedars, resounds [226] in the thunder, bellows in the storm wind. The light is his garment, the heaven his curtain, the clouds his chariot. His breath creates and renews the earth. He sends rain and gives sunshine over righteous and unrighteous. Foliage and grass, rain and drought, fruitful and unfruitful years and all things do not come to the believer by chance but from God’s fatherly hand. The view of nature and history of Scripture is religious and therefore also supranatural.

For Scripture, even religion and supernatural revelation hang most closely together. It relates such a revelation not only after, but also already before the fall. The relation of God and man in the status integritatis is depicted as a personal intercourse. God speaks to man Gen. 1:28-30, gives him a command which he could not know by nature Gen 2:16 and adds, as it were with his own hand, the woman to him as a help, Gen. 2 vs. 22. Also the foedus operum is not in that sense a foedus naturae, that it arises of itself from man’s natural disposition, but is a fruit of supernatural revelation. And because the foedus operum now is nothing other than the form of religion in the man created after God’s image who had not yet obtained the highest, it can be said that Scripture cannot think of pure religion without revelatio supernaturalis. The supernatural does not conflict with man’s nature, nor with the nature of the creatures; it belongs, so to speak, to the essence of man. Man is the image of God and akin to God, and through religion he stands to God in a direct relation. The nature of this relation includes that God reveals himself to the man created after his image both objectively and subjectively. There is no religion without tradition, dogma, cultus; and all these are interwoven with the concept of revelation. All religions are therefore also positive and rest not only on natural but always also on actual or supposed supernatural revelation. And all men by nature acknowledge the supranatural. Naturalism is, like atheism, an invention of philosophy, but it has no support in human nature. So long as religion will belong to the essence of man, man will also be and remain a supranaturalist. Every believer, of whatever direction, he may be a naturalist with his head, he is nevertheless a supranaturalist with his heart. Whoever [227] wants to ban the supranatural from religion, thus from prayer, from the exercise of communion with God, kills religion itself. For religion presupposes actual kinship and communion with God and is with heart and soul supranaturalistic. It is inseparable from the faith that God stands supra naturam and that He can do with it according to his good pleasure, that He makes the order of nature subservient to the moral order, the kingdoms of the world to the kingdom of heaven, the physis to the ethos. Therefore it has rightly been said that the prayer for a pure heart is just as supranaturalistic as that for a healthy body (Pierson). The theist, who wants truly to be a theist and yet combats supernatural revelation, is by this denial still absolutely not done with it. He must either go back to deism or pantheism, or he must go forward and also accept the possibility of supernatural revelation. There is no religio naturalis. The rationalistic trilogy is untenable. The only true antithesis of the recognition of the supranatural is therefore not rationalistic deism, but naturalism, i.e. the belief that there exists no other higher power than that which is present in the present order of nature and reveals itself. But then all right also falls away to believe in the triumph of the good, in the final victory of the kingdom of God, in the power of the moral world-order. For the good, the true, the moral world-order, the kingdom of God are matters which in themselves have no power to realize themselves. The hope that men will bring them to dominion and will yield to the power of truth is disappointed every day by experience. Only then is their triumph assured, if God is a personal, almighty being and can lead the whole creation, in spite of all resistance, toward the goal intended by Him. Religion, morality, the recognition of a destiny for humanity and world, the faith in the victory of the good, the theistic world-view, the faith in a personal God are all inseparably connected with supranaturalism. The idea of God and of religion involves that of revelation. Pierson, Gods wondermacht en ons geestelijk leven 1867 bl. 10 v. 36 v. James Orr, The christian view of God and the world, Edinb. 1893 p. 60 etc. 91 etc. Cf. Rauwenhoff, Wijsbeg. v. d. godsd. 530 v. [228]

6. Supernatural revelation, however, must not be identified with immediate revelation. The distinction between mediate and immediate revelation has each time been taken in different senses. Formerly every revelation was called immediate which came to the recipient himself without an intermediary; and mediate that which was transmitted to others through angels or men, Witsius, Misc. Sacra I. 16. Insofar, then, as revelation to prophets and apostles came mostly personally, whereas to us it comes only through their writings, the former could be set over against the latter as revelatio immediata against revelatio mediata. Among the rationalistic and modern theologians these designations have often received a wholly different sense, and thereby have increased the confusion in the conception of revelation, Rothe, zur Dogm. 55 f. 64 f. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. 163 f. In the strict sense there is no immediate revelation, neither in nature nor in grace. God always makes use of a means, whether taken from the creatures or freely chosen, through which He reveals himself to men. By signs and symbols He makes them feel his presence; by deeds He proclaims to them his virtues; by speech and language He makes known to them his will and thought. Even where He reveals himself inwardly by his Spirit in consciousness, this revelation nevertheless always takes place organically and thus by a mediate way. The distance between Creator and creature is far too great for man to be able to perceive God directly. Finitum non est capax infiniti. Whether in the status gloriae there will be a visio Dei per essentiam can be investigated only later. But in this dispensation all revelation is mediate. As God is and speaks in himself, He can be beheld or understood by no creature. Revelation is therefore always an act of grace; in it God descends to his creature, which is made after his image. All revelation is anthropomorphism, is a certain incarnation of God. It always takes place in certain forms, in definite modi. In the revelatio naturalis his divine and eternal thoughts are laid down in the creatures in a creaturely manner, so that they can be understood by man thinking. And in the revelatio supernaturalis He binds himself to space and time, assumes human language and speech, and makes use of creaturely [229] means, Gen. 1:28, 2:16 v., 21 v., 3:8 v. And through these media man perceived and understood God just as well and just as clearly as now the pious man perceives the speech of God in the whole of nature. As little impossible and deceptive as the revelation of God in nature and history is for the believer, so also is the supernatural revelation, in which God makes use of unusual means, but for which He also in a special way opens the eyes. Natural and supernatural revelation therefore, according to the teaching of Scripture, go together in the status integritatis. They are not an antithesis but complement one another. They are both mediate and bound to definite forms and means. They both rest on the thought that God in grace stoops down to man and becomes conformed to him. And they both have these modi, that God makes his presence felt, his voice heard, his works beheld. By appearance, word, and deed God from the beginning made himself manifest to men.

Remarkable now is the fact that the sin which enters into the world through the first man brings about no change in the fact itself of revelation. God continues to reveal himself; He does not withdraw. First of all, throughout the whole of Scripture a revelatio naturalis is taught to us. God’s revelation began in creation and continues in the preservation and government of all things. He reveals himself in the nature around us; displays therein his eternal power and divinity, and in blessings and judgment proves in turn his goodness and his wrath, Job 36, 37. Ps. 29, 33:5, 65, 67:7, 90, 104, 107, 145, 147. Jes. 59:17-19. Mt. 5:45. Rom: 1:18. Hd. 14:16. He reveals himself in the history of peoples and persons Deut. 32:8. Ps. 33:10, 67:5, 115:16. Spr. 8:15, 16. Hd. 17:26. Rom. 13:1. He also reveals himself in the heart and conscience of every human being Job 32:8, 33:4. Spr. 20:27. Joh. 1:3-5, 9, 10. Rom. 2:14, 15, 8:16. This revelation of God is general, in itself perceptible and intelligible for every human being. Nature and history are the book of God’s omnipotence and wisdom, of his goodness and righteousness. All peoples have acknowledged this revelation to a certain extent. Even idolatry presupposes that in the creatures God’s δυναμις and θειοτης are revealed. Philosophers, natural scientists and [230] historians have many times spoken in a striking way of this revelation of God, e.g. Xenophon, Memor. I 4, 5. Cicero, de nat. deor. II 2, de divinat. II 72. Zöckler, Gottes Zeugen im Reich der Natur, 2 Th. Gütersloh 1881. By Christian theology this general revelation has at all times been uniformly accepted and defended, Iren. adv. haer. II 6. Tertull. de testim. animae, adv. Marc. I 10. August, de civ. Dei 8:9 sq. 19:1, de trin. 4:20 etc. Joh. Damasc. de fide orthod. I c. 1 and 3. Thomas, S. c. Gent. lib. 1-3. S. Theol. I qu. 2 etc., cf. further H. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der relig. Erk. II S. 27-45. In particular, by the Reformed theologians this general revelation was maintained and highly valued, Calv. Inst. I c. 4 and cf. further Schweizer, Gl. der ev. K. I 241 f. Heppe, Dogm. der ev. ref. K. S. 1 f. Scholten, Leer der Herv. Kerk I4 304-326. Doedes, Inleiding tot de leer van God 2e dr. bl. 107-252.

But according to Scripture this general revelation is not, in the strict sense, natural only, but it also contains supernatural elements. The revelation which takes place immediately after the fall bears a supranatural character, Gen. 3:8 v., and by tradition becomes the property of humanity. The original knowledge and service of God remains preserved for a long time in a more or less pure condition. To Cain grace is granted for right: he even becomes the father of a lineage that makes a beginning with culture, Gen. 4. The covenant which after the flood is established with Noah and in him with the whole new humanity is a covenant of nature and yet no longer natural, but the fruit of unmerited supernatural grace, Gen. 8:21, 22. 9:1-17. More than once Scripture speaks of miracles which God has wrought before the eyes of the heathen, in Egypt, Canaan, Babel, etc., and of supernatural revelations which have fallen to the lot of non-Israelites, Gen. 20, 30, 40, 41. Richt. 7. Dan. 2:4 etc. An operation of supernatural powers in the heathen world is a priori neither impossible nor even improbable. There can be truth in the appeal to revelations, which is common to all religions. And conversely, not everything that belongs to the domain of special grace is, in the strict sense, supernatural. Entire periods pass in the history of Israel, many days and years in the life of Jesus, and likewise in the life of the apostles, [231] in which no supernatural revelation takes place and which nevertheless form an important part in the historia revelationis. When Jesus proclaims the gospel to the poor, this is of no less weight than when He heals the sick and raises the dead. His dying, which seems natural, is of no less significance than His supernatural birth. Therefore the distinction of natural and supernatural revelation is not identical with that of general and special. For the designation of the twofold revelation which underlies the heathen religions and the religion of Scripture, the latter distinction is to be preferred above the former.

C. Insufficiency of general revelation.

7. This revelatio generalis is, however, for various reasons insufficient. In this all Christian theologians are unanimous. Irenaeus adv. haeres. 2, 28 argues, over against the Gnostics, the limitation of human knowledge. Justinus Martyr, Dial. c. Tryph., introduction, Tertullianus, de an. c. 1. Lactantius, Instit. div. 3, 1. 4, 1. Arnobius, adv. nat. I, 38. II, 6. depict the weakness of reason in very strong colours. Augustinus does not deny that there is also among the Heathen some truth, with which the Christians can make their profit, the doctr. chr. 2, 60. But philosophy is not the true way to salvation. It can teach only few and only little, the trin. 13, 12. de civ. 12, 20. de util. cred. 10, 24. It does indeed know the goal, but not the way that leads to the goal, Conf. 5, 5. 7, 26. de civ. 10, 29. Often it leads onto a wrong path and holds down the truth in unrighteousness, the trin. 13, 24, it does not seek it in a pious manner, Conf. 5, 4, it lacks the love that is necessary for knowledge of the truth, de civ. 9, 20, it is hindered by its own superbia in the knowledge of the truth, for only humilitas is the way to life, de civ. 2, 7. Therefore there is still another way to the truth necessary, namely the auctoritas, de vera relig. c. 24. de mor. eccl. 1, 2. Thomas S. Theol. I qu. 1 art. 1. S. c. Gent. I, 4. argues the necessity of revelation even for the articuli mixti known by reason. The Roman church has clearly expressed the insufficientia of theol. nat. in the preface of the Catech. Romanus, and in [232] ’t Vaticanum sess. 3 cap. 2 de revelatione, and can. 2, 2-4. And the Protest. theologians judged concerning this insufficientia of general revelation no differently, Calv. Inst. I. 5 § 11 sq. and cap. 6. Heidegger, Corpus Theol. I § 9-13. Trigland, Antapologia cap. 17. Owen, Θεολογουμενα I cap. 6. Turret. Theol. Elenct. I qu. 4. Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. I 61 39. The sufficiency of general revelation and of the religio naturalis built upon it was in earlier time taught only by the Pelagians, who assumed a threefold way to salvation, namely the lex naturae, lex Mosis and lex Christi. There were also in the Christian church always some theologians who judged more favourably concerning the Heathen and also believed in the possibility of their salvation, such as Justinus, Clemens Alex. Erasmus, Zwingli etc. cf. Vossius, Historia Pelag. 1655 p. 383 sq. But with these this belief rested for the most part not on the doctrine of the sufficiency of general revelation, but on the supposition that God also with his special grace worked among the Heathen, whether then in or after this life. In contrast, the complete sufficiency of general revelation and of natural religion was taught in the 18th century by the deists and rationalists, such as Cherbury, Tindal, Collins, Rousseau, Kant etc. Litt. bij Lechler, Gesch. des engl. Deïsmus 1841 and art. Deïsmus in Herzog2. Bretschneider, System. Entw. aller in der Dogm. vork. Begriffe 1841 S. 35 f. Clarisse, Encycl. 1835 p. 405 sq. Doedes, Inleiding tot de Leer van God 1880 bl. 197 v.

On the insufficiency of general revelation there can hardly be any doubt. In the first place it appears from the fact that this revelation at most provides us with some knowledge of God’s existence and of some of his attributes, such as goodness and righteousness; but it leaves us absolutely unacquainted with the person of Christ, who alone is the way to the Father, Mt. 11:27. Joh. 14:6, 17:3. Hd. 4:12. General revelation is therefore insufficient for man as a sinner; it knows of no grace and forgiveness; many a time it is even a revelation of wrath, Rom. 1:20. Grace and forgiveness, which must be the essence of religion, is an act of good pleasure, not of nature and necessity. General revelation can at most make some truths known, but brings no facts, no history, and thus changes nothing in being. It enlightens consciousness [233] somewhat and restrains sin, but it does not recreate the nature of man and world. It can instill fear, but no trust and love, Shedd, Dogm. Theol. I 66, 218. In the second place the knowledge which general revelation can provide is not only slight and insufficient, but it is also uncertain, always mixed with error, and for by far the most people unattainable. The history of philosophy has been a history of systems that demolish one another; and among the Greeks it ended in skepticism, in the Middle Ages in nominalism, and now in agnosticism. The truths most necessary for religion, existence and being of God, origin and destiny of man and world, sin and forgiveness, reward and punishment have in turn been taught and contested. In philosophy no sufficient certainty is to be obtained about all these questions. Cicero, Tusc. 1,5 therefore rightly asks: ex philosophis nonne optimus et gravissimus quisque confitetur multa se ignorare, multa sibi etiam atque etiam esse discenda? But even if some thinkers arrived at some true and pure knowledge, it was still mixed with all kinds of error. Every philosophical system has its gaps and defects. Plato, whose system according to Augustine, de civ. 8,5 is most closely related to Christianity, defends the exposing of weak children, pederasty, community of women, etc. Even in morality there is great difference and uncertainty; vérité en deça des Pyrenées, erreur au delà (Pascal). Nescio quomodo nihil tam absurde dici potest, quod non dicatur ab aliquo philosophorum, Cic. de divin. 2,58. And even if the philosophers had been in possession of the most beautiful and purest doctrine, they would nevertheless have lacked the authority to secure it an entrance among the people. Often therefore in the practice of life they themselves again align with popular belief and popular customs; or they withdraw from the people in loftiness with an Odi profanum vulgus et arceo. Their mutual strife and the contrast between their doctrine and life weakened their influence. And even if all this had not been the case, then the doctrine of the philosophers would nevertheless never have been able to become or remain the religion of the people, because in matters of religion an intellectual clericalism and a scientific hierarchy is intolerable. Therefore Thomas was completely right when he said that even in those [234] truths which general revelation makes known to us, revelation and authority are still needed, because that knowledge is suitable only for few, would require too long a time of investigation and even then would remain imperfect and uncertain, S. Theol. I qu. 1 art. 1, II 2 qu. 2 art. 4. S. contra Gent. I, 4. In the third place the insufficiency of natural revelation is clearly demonstrated by the fact that no single people has been satisfied with the so-called religio naturalis. The general religion of the deists, the moralische Vernunftreligion of Kant, the pietas and obedientia of Spinoza, are all nothing but pure abstractions, which in reality have never existed. Even if the five articles of Herbert or the rationalistic trilogy of Kant had been completely certain and strictly scientifically provable, they would still have been unfit for founding a religion, a church. For religion is something essentially different from science, it has another source and foundation. The eighteenth century could find pleasure in such truths of reason and vain abstractions. The nineteenth century with its historical sense soon saw that such a religio naturalis existed nowhere and also can exist nowhere. Now it is generally conceded that all religions are positive and rest on revelation, Schleiermacher, Glaub. § 10 Zusatz. Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. III2 4, 500. Id. Unterricht in der christl. Religion3 S. 20. Frank, System der chr. Wahrheit. I2 512 f. Doedes, Encyclopaedie 190, 191. W. Bender, Zur Geschichte der Emancipation der natürl. Theol., Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1883 S. 5294-592. R. Rütschi, Die Lehre von der natürlichen Religion u. vom Naturrecht, Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1884 S. 1-48. Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsd. I 19 v.

D. Value of general revelation.

8. Therewith, however, general revelation has not lost its value and significance. In the first place it is of great significance for the heathen world. It is the firm and abiding foundation of the heathen religions. Holy Scripture passes a strict judgment on Ethnicism and declares its origin from apostasy from the pure knowledge of God. Yet this knowledge, which was man’s original possession, did still for some time [235] continue to have effects Gen. 4:3. 8:20, and the creation revealed God’s eternal power and divinity, Rom. 1:20. But men, made foolish in their thoughts and darkened in their heart, though knowing God did not glorify Him as God or give thanks. In addition, the confusion of language and the dispersion of the peoples Gen. 11 has certainly also been of great influence for the development of polytheism, Orig. c. Cels V. Aug. de civ. Dei 16:6. Schelling, Einleitung in die philos. der Mythologie I 94 f. Delitzsch, Comm. op Gen. 11. Auberlen, De goddelijke openbaring I 187 v. Fabri, Die Entstehung des Heidenthums und die Aufgabe der Heidenmission 1859. Herzog2 12:108. The Hebr. גּוֹי, the multitude bound together by descent and language, nation, alongside גַּם the people bound together by unity of government, also points to this here. For גּוֹיִים, ἐθνη is commonly used of the heathen peoples, and signifies not only peoples but also heathens; the word has a national but at the same time also an ethical-religious significance, just like the lat. pagani and our heathens. The unity of God and thus also the purity of religion was lost in the splitting of humanity into peoples. Each people received its own, national god. And when once the concept of the unity and the absoluteness of God had been lost, alongside that one national god other powers could gradually be acknowledged and worshipped as gods; the idea of the divine becomes impure and descends, the various powers of nature come to the foreground and rise in significance; the boundary between the divine and the creaturely is erased; and religion can even degenerate into animism and fetishism, into sorcery and magic. The character of the heathen religions therefore, according to Scripture, consists in idolatry. The heathen gods are idols, they do not exist, they are lie and vanity Jes. 41:29, 42:17, 46:1 v. Jer. 2:28. Ps. 106:28. Hd. 14:15, 19:26. Gal. 4:8. 1 Cor. 8:5. In those religions even a demonic power is at work Deut. 32:17. Ps. 106:28. 1 Cor. 10:20 v. Apoc. 9:20. The condition in which the heathen world, outside the revelation to Israel, outside Christ, finds itself, is described as darkness Jes. 9:1, 60:2. Luk. 1:79. Joh. 1:5. Ef. 4:18, as ignorance Hd. 17:30. 1 Petr 1:14. Rom 1:18 v.; as imagined vain wisdom 1 Cor. 1:18 v., 2:6, 3:19 v.; as sin and unrighteousness Rom 1:24 v., 3:9 v. [236]

The heathen world is, in its origin, character, and destiny, an awe-inspiring problem. In itself, the solution which Scripture gives of it is not only not absurd, but it even commends itself by its simplicity and its naturalness. Yet philosophy, both that of history and that of religions, has not been satisfied with that solution and has advanced another view, which stands in direct opposition to that of Scripture. Indeed, the glorification of the childlike condition of the peoples, as was customary in the previous century, now finds no assent any more. But the theory of evolution, which now serves for explanation, is equally in conflict with Scripture. Just as natural science attempts to derive the living from the lifeless, the organic from the inorganic, man from the animal, the conscious from the unconscious, the higher from the lower, so the science of religion of the more recent time seeks to explain religion from an earlier religionless condition and pure religion from the primitive forms of fetishism, animism, etc. D. Hume has already begun with that in his Natural history of religion. With Hegel it fitted entirely into the framework of his pantheistic philosophy, Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Religion 1832. And since then it has found ever more dissemination and defense, Buckle, History of civilization in England 1858. W. E. H. Lecky, History of the rise and influence of the spirit of rationalism in Europe 1865. E. B. Tylor, Researches into the early history of mankind and the development of civilization 2d ed. 1870. Id. Primitive Culture 1872. Sir John Lubbock, Prehistoric times as illustrated by ancient remains and the manners and customs of modern savages 1865. Id. The origin of civilization and the primitive condition of man 1870. H. Spencer, The principles of sociology 1876-’82. F. von Hellwald, Kulturgeschichte in ihrer natürlichen Entwicklung bis zur Gegenwart, 3e Aufl. 1883. O. Caspari, Die Urgeschichte der Menschheit mit Rücksicht auf die natürliche Entwicklung des frühesten Geisteslebens 1873. G. Roskoff, Das Religionswesen der rohesten Natürvolker 1880. Ed. von Hartmann, Religionsphilosophie, Leipzig. O. Pfleiderer, Religionsphilos. auf geschichtl. Grundlage, 2e Aufl. 1883-84. H. Siebeck, Lehrb. der Religionsphilosophie 1893. A. Reville, Prolégomènes de l’histoire des religions, Paris 1881. [237] C. P. Tiele, The place of the religion of the natural peoples in the history of religion 1873. Id. On the laws of the development of religion, Theol. Tijdschr. 1874. Id. Hist. of religion 1876 etc. However generally this doctrine of evolution may be accepted, in any case it has as yet no higher rank than that of a hypothesis. But it does not explain the phenomena. In natural science it still always runs up against the facts of life, consciousness, speech, language, will, etc. And in the science of religion the origin and the essence, the truth and the value of religion remain a protest against its submissions. That furthermore the natural peoples represent the original condition of humanity, that fetishism and animism are the oldest forms of religion, and that the first humans were like children or savages, are opinions that lack sufficient ground and therefore also meet with ever more contradiction. Schelling, in his Philosophie der Mythologie und Offenbarung, assumed a relative monotheism as original. Max Müller acknowledges a so-called henotheism as primitive religion, Vorlesungen über Ursprung und Entwicklung der Religion S. 292 f. Deutsche Rundschau Sept. 1878. Cf. Rauwenhoff, Wijsb. v. d. godsd. 95 v. 191 v. and Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsd. 146 v. Also the opinion that the different religions are successive moments in one process of development is much less probable than that which holds them to be degenerations of a kind, Kähler, Wiss. der chr. Lehre I 185. The doctrine of Scripture concerning the origin and the essence of Ethnicism is therefore still defended, more or less decisively, by Lüken, Die Einheit des Menschengeschlechts und dessen Ausbreitung über die ganze Erde 1845. Doedes, The application of the theory of development not to be recommended for the hist. of religion 1874. E. L. Fischer, Heidenthum und Offenbarung 1878. Zöckler, Die Lehre vom Urstand des Menschen, Gütersloh 1879. Id. Art. Polytheismus in Herzog2. Lenormant, Les origines de l’histoire d’après la Bible et les traditions des peuples orientaux, 3 vol. 1880-84. Diestel, der Monoth. des Heidenthums, Jahrb. f. deutsche Theol. 1860 S. 669-759. A. Tholuck, Der sittliche Charakter des Heidenthums 3e Aufl., Werke VIII 1865 S. 1-91. J. N. Sepp, Das Heidenthum und dessen Bedeutung für das Christenthum, 3 Theile Regensburg 1853. C. Pesch, God and [238] gods. A study in comparative science of religion. Freiburg 1890. Formby-Krieg, Der Monotheïsmus der Offenbarung und das Heidenthum. Mainz 1880. Ebrard, Apologetik, 2e Aufl. Gütersloh 1878-80. II 521 f. Vigouroux, La Bible et les découvertes modernes en Palestine, en Egypte et en Assyrie, 4 vol. James Orr, The Christian view of God and the world, Edinburgh, Elliot 1893 p. 141, 193, 431, 466, 501. S. H. Kellogg, The genesis and growth of religion, New-York and London 1892. Cf. Ch. de la Saussaye, Lehrb. der Rel. gesch. S. 7 f. 23 f.

9. But, however strictly Scripture may judge concerning the character of paganism, precisely the general revelation which it teaches places us in a position and gives us the right to acknowledge all the elements of truth which are also present in the pagan religions. The study of religions formerly stood exclusively in the service of dogmatics and apologetics. The founders of religions, such as Mohammed, were simply regarded as deceivers, enemies of God, accomplices of the devil. Cf. Dr. Snouck Hurgronje, De Islam. Gids 1886 II 239 v. But since those religions have become more accurately known, this explanation has proved untenable; it was in conflict both with history and with psychology. According to Holy Scripture there is also among the pagans a revelation of God, an illumination of the Logos, an operation of God’s Spirit, Gen. 6:17, 7:15. Ps. 33:6, 104:30, 139 vs. 2. Job 32:8. Eccl. 3:19. Prov. 8:22 v. Mal. 1:11, 14. John 1:9. Rom.2:14. Gal. 4:1-3. Acts 14:16, 17; 17 vs. 22-30. Many church fathers, Just. Martyr, Apol. 1,47, Clemens Alex. Strom. I 7 et al. assumed an activity of the Logos in the pagan world. Augustine speaks repeatedly very unfavorably about the pagans, but nevertheless also acknowledges that they saw the truth in shadow, the civ. 19,1 de trin. 4.20, that the truth was not entirely hidden from them, the civ. 8:11 v. and that we therefore must make our profit from what is true in pagan philosophy and must appropriate it to ourselves, de doctr. chr. 2,60. Non usque adeo in anima humana imago Dei terrenorum affectuum labe detrita est, ut nulla in ea velut lineamenta extrema remanserint, unde merito dici possit, etiam in ipsa impietate vitae suae facere aliqua legis vel sapere, de spir. et. litt. [239] c. 27, 28. Also many who are not pure acknowledge much that is true, Retract. I c. 4. Thomas says not only that man as a rational being, without supernatural grace, can know the veritates naturales, S. Theol. I 2 qu. 109 art. 1. but also testifies II 2 qu. 172 art. 6, that it is impossible esse aliquam cognitionem quae totaliter sit falsa, absque admixtione alicujus veritatis, and in that connection appeals to the words of Bede and Augustine: nulla falsa est doctrina, quae non aliquando aliqua vera falsis intermisceat. The Reformed were in an even better position through their doctrine of the gratia communis. By this they were on the one hand safeguarded against the error of Pelagianism, which taught the sufficientia of theol. naturalis and connected salvation to the observance of the lex naturae; but on the other hand they could nevertheless acknowledge all that is true and beautiful and good that was also present in the pagan world. Science, art, moral, domestic, social life etc. were derived from that gratia communis and with gratitude acknowledged and praised, Calv. Inst. II, 2. § 12 v. II 3. § 3 v. Zanchius, Opera VIII 646 sq. Wttewrongel, Christ. Huishoudinge I 288-299. Witsius, Oec. foed. III 12. § 52. Id. Twist des Heeren met zijn wijngaart cap. 19. Turret, Theol. El. 10:5. Vossius, Hist. Pelag. 3:3. Pfanner, Systema Theol. Gentilis cap. 22 § 33. Trigland, Antapologia cap. 17. Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. IV 826-829. Cf. my address on De algemeene Genade, Kampen 1894. Usually this operation of the gratia communis was indeed seen in moral and intellectual, social and political life, but less often in the religions. Then one spoke only of some religio naturalis, insita and acquisita, but the connection between these and the religions was not demonstrated. The religions were derived from deception or daemonic influences. But not only in science and art, in morality and law, but also in the religions there is an operation of God’s Spirit and of his general grace to be observed. Calvin rightly spoke of a semen religionis, a sensus divinitatis, Inst. I, 3, 1-3. I, 4, 1. II, 2, 18. For the founders of religions were not deceivers and not instruments of Satan, but men who, religiously disposed, had a calling to fulfill for their time and for their people, and have exercised a favorable influence on the life of the peoples. The various religions, however much also mixed with error, [240] have to a certain extent satisfied the religious needs and bestowed comfort in the sorrow of life. Not only cries of despair, but also tones of trust, hope, resignation, peace, submission, patience etc. come to us from the pagan world. All the elements and forms which are essential to religion, concept of God, consciousness of guilt, need of redemption, sacrifice, priesthood, temple, cultus, prayer etc. occur in corrupted form but nevertheless thus also occur in the pagan religions. Even here and there there is no lack of unconscious predictions and striking expectations of a better and purer religion. Therefore Christianity does not stand exclusively antithetically over against paganism; it is also its fulfillment. Christianity is the true but therefore also the highest and purest religion, it is the truth of all religions. What in Ethnicism is caricature, is here the living original. What there is appearance, is here essence. What is sought there, is to be found here. Christianity is the explanation of Ethnicism. Christ is the Promised One to Israel and the Desire of all pagans. Israel and the church are chosen for the benefit of humanity. In Abraham’s seed all the families of the earth are blessed. See besides the above-mentioned works of Fabri, Sepp, Tholuck et al. also Clemens Alex. Strom. 1, 1. 4, 5. 6, 8. Coh. ad gentes § 6. Orig. c. Cels. 4, 4. Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. III2 184. Philippi, Kirchl. Gl. I 2. Beck, Einleitung in das Syst. der christl. Lehre 2e Aufl. 1870 S. 45 f. Saussaye in my Theol. van Prof. Dr. Ch. d. l. S. bl. 31 v. 46 v. 83 v. V. von Strauss und Torney, Das unbewusst Weissagende im vorchristl. Heidenthum (Zeitfr. des christl. Volkslebens VIII). Staudenmaier, Encycl. der theol. Wiss. 1835 § 428 v. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. 134 f. Kuyper, Encycl. III 445 v. 563 v.

10. But the revelatio generalis has significance not only for the heathen world, but also still in and for the Christian religion. Its value, however, does not lie in this, that it provides us with a theologia or religio naturalis, a moral rational faith, which would be sufficient in itself and could dispense with all that is positive in religion. Such a religio naturalis is found nowhere and is also not viable. [241] Nor is it the intention of the revelatio generalis that the Christian should draw from it his first knowledge about God, world, and man, in order then later to supplement this with the knowledge of Christ. Ritschl and his followers present it as if the dogmatician in the loci de Deo and de homine took the material only from the revelatio generalis, and then for the following loci first went to draw the material from Holy Scripture. The dogmatician would then first stand outside and before the Christian faith, and then with the later dogmas take his position within that faith, Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. III2 4. But this has at least in the beginning not been the method of Reformation dogmatics. When the Christian confesses his faith in God the Father, the Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, then that is in the full sense Christian faith. And the dogmatician does not first divest himself of this his faith, in order from the general revelation to compile a rational doctrine about God and man and later to supplement this with the revelation in Christ. But he draws his knowledge solely and only from the revelatio specialis, i.e. from Holy Scripture. This is his principium unicum. But he does not limit this special revelation to the person of Christ, as that is depicted in some parts of Scripture, e.g. in the Synopt. Gospels or only in the Sermon on the Mount. The whole revelation, which is summarized in Scripture, is a revelatio specialis, which comes to us in Christ. Christ is the center and content of that whole special revelation, which begins at Paradise and is completed in the Apocalypse. The special revelation has now recognized and valued the general, and has even taken it over and, as it were, assimilated it. And so also does the Christian, so also the dogmatician. He stands in the Christian faith, in the revelatio specialis and from there also looks into nature and history. And now he discovers there traces of that same God, whom he in Christ came to know as his Father. Precisely as a Christian, through faith, he sees the revelation of God in nature much better and more clearly than he could notice it earlier. The psychical man does not understand the speech of God in nature and history. He searches the entire universe, without finding God. But the Christian, armed with the spectacles of Holy Scripture, R. de Sabunde, Theol. Natur. in den Prologus, Calvin, Inst. I 6, 1., [242] sees God in everything and everything in God. Therefore we encounter in Scripture a nature poetry and a view of history such as is found nowhere. The believer thus also finds his way rightly in the world with his Christian confession; he is no stranger in it, and sees there no other power ruling than that which he also in Christ invokes as his Father. Through that general revelation he feels at home in the world; it is God’s fatherly hand, from which also in the natural order all things come to him.

In that general revelation he further has a firm ground, on which he can meet all non-Christians. He has the same foundation in common with them. By his Christian faith he may occupy an isolated position, he may not be able to prove his convictions of faith to others; in the general revelation he nevertheless has a point of contact with all who bear the name of man. Just as the classical propaedeutic lays a common basis among all men of science, so general revelation holds all men together in spite of all difference of religion. Subjectively, in the believer the knowledge of God from nature is posterior to that from Holy Scripture. We are all born in a definite positive religion. Only the eye of faith sees God in creation; here too it holds, that only the pure in heart see God. But objectively, nature nevertheless precedes grace, the revelatio generalis precedes the revelatio specialis. Gratia praesupponit naturam. The denial that the religio and theologia naturalis is sufficient and has a proper, independent existence, detracts nothing from the fact that from creation, from nature and history, from heart and conscience, a speech of God comes to every man. No one escapes the power of the revelatio generalis. Religion belongs to the essence of man. The idea and the existence of God, the spiritual independence and the eternal destiny of man, origin and goal of the world, the moral world-order and its final triumph are problems that leave the human spirit no rest. The metaphysical need cannot be suppressed. Philosophy always seeks again to satisfy it. It is the revelatio generalis that keeps this need alive. It prevents man from debasing himself to an animal. It binds him to the supersensible world. It [243] maintains in him the consciousness that he is created after God’s image and finds no rest except in God. The revelatio generalis preserves humanity, in order that and until it is found and restored by Christ. Insofar the theologia naturalis was formerly rightly called a praeambula fidei, a divine preparation and education to Christianity. General revelation is the foundation on which the special raises itself.

And finally the rich significance of general revelation also comes to expression in this, that it holds nature and grace, creation and re-creation, the Welt der Wirklichkeit and the Welt der Werthe together in an indissoluble connection. Without general revelation the special loses its coherence with the whole cosmic being and life. Then the link is missing, which connects the realm of nature and the kingdom of heaven with one another. He who, with critical philosophy, denies the revelatio generalis, makes a futile effort to regain, by the way of practical Vernunft or of phantasy, what he lost. He has lost the point of support for his faith. The religious life stands detached alongside ordinary, human being; the image of God becomes a donum superadditum; religion, as with the Socinians, becomes foreign to human nature; Christianity becomes a sectarian phenomenon and deprived of its catholicity; grace stands hostile over against nature. Consistent with this, then, is to assume, with the ethical moderns, a radical separation between the power of the good and the power of nature. Ethos and physis lie totally separated. The world of Wirklichkeit and that of Werthe have nothing to do with one another. In principle Parsism, Manichaeism is renewed. In contrast, the revelatio generalis maintains the unity of nature and grace, of world and kingdom of God, of the natural and the moral order, of creation and re-creation, of physis and ethos, of virtue and happiness, of holiness and blessedness, and in all this the unity of the divine Being. It is one and the same God, who in general revelation leaves himself without witness to no one and who in special revelation makes himself known as a God of grace. General and special revelation thus work upon one another. Praemisit Deus naturam magistram, submissurus et prophetiam, quo facilius credas prophetiae discipulus naturae (Tertullianus). Natura praecedit gratiam, gratia [244] perficit naturam. Ratio perficitur a fide, fides supponit naturam. Cf. Hofstede de Groot, Institutio theol. nat. ed. 4. 1861. Scholten, Leer der Herv. Kerk, 4e dr. I bl. 270 v. Kuyper, Nat. Godskennis, Uit het Woord III. Voigt, Fund. dogm. 172 f.

§ 10. Special Revelation.

A. Means of special revelation.

1. History teaches that no religion has enough with general revelation. The Christian religion too appeals to a special revelation. Scripture is the book of the revelatio specialis. The words with which it expresses the concept of revelation are chiefly these: גלה to discover, ni. to be discovered, to show oneself, to appear, to be revealed, Gen. 35:7; 1 Sam. 2:27, 3:21; Isa. 53:1, 56:1; Hos. 7:1, etc. ראה to see, ni. to be seen, to show oneself, to appear, to shine, Gen. 12:7, 17:1, 18:1, etc.; ידע to know, ni. pi. hi. hithp. to make known, to instruct, Num. 12:6; ἐπιφαινειν to appear Luke 1:79; Tit. 1:11; subst. ἐπιφανεια, appearance, especially of Christ in his return 2 Thess. 2:8; 1 Tim. 6:14; 2 Tim. 4:1; Tit. 2:13; 2 Tim. 1:10 of Christ’s first coming; ἐμφανιζειν to make manifest, visible, pass. to show oneself, to appear Mt. 27:53; John 14:21, 22; γνωριζειν to make known Luke 2:15; Rom. 9:22; Eph. 3:3, 5, 10; δηλουν to make known 1 Petr. 1:11; 2 Petr. 1:14; δεικνυναι to show John 5:20; λαλειν to speak Heb. 1:1, 2:2, 5:5; but especially also ἀποκαλυπτειν and φανερουν. Both words are not to be distinguished as subjective, inward illumination and objective, outward appearance or disclosure, as Scholten, L. H. K. 4e dr. I 165 v. 299. Dogm. Christ. Initia I 26 sq. thought: for ἀποκαλυπτειν is repeatedly used of objective revelation Luke 17:30; Rom. 1:17, 18, 8:18; Eph. 3:5; 2 Thess. 2:3, 6, 8; 1 Petr. 1:5, 5:1. Nor does the distinction lie in this, that φανερουν denotes God’s general revelation in nature, and ἀποκαλυπτειν the special revelation of grace, Neander, Gesch. der Pflanzung und Leitung der christl. Kirche [245] durch die Apostel, 5te Aufl. Gotha, Perthes 1862 S. 131 f. for φανερουν is many times used of the special revelation John 17:6; Rom. 16:26; Col. 1:26; 1 Tim. 3:16; 2 Tim. 1:10, etc.; and ἀποκαλυπτειν occurs in Rom. 1:18 also of the general revelation. A constant difference in the use of both words can hardly be indicated in the N. T. But etymologically ἀποκαλυπτειν indicates the removing of the covering by which an object was hidden, and φανερουν the making public of a matter that was hidden or unknown. With the first, therefore, the emphasis falls on removing the hindrance that prevented the knowing of what was hidden; on the mysterious character of that which until now was not perceived; and on the divine act that removed that covering and made the mystery understood. The second word indicates in general that something which was hidden and unknown has now become manifest and has come into the light. Ἀποκαλυψις removes the cause by which something was hidden; φανερωσις makes the matter itself manifest. Connected with that is that φανερωσις is always used of objective, ἀποκαλυψις of both objective and subjective revelation; that φανερωσις more than once denotes both the general and the special revelation, but ἀποκαλυψις mostly always the special and only a single time the general. And both words are then again distinguished from γνωριζειν and δηλουν in such a way that the first two cause the things to come into the light, bring them under observation, and the last two, as a consequence of that, now also make them into content of our thinking consciousness. Cf. Dr. F. G. B. van Bell, Disput. theol. de patefactionis christianae indole ex vocabulis φαν. et ἀποκ. in libris N. T. efficienda 1849. Niermeyer, Gids 1850 I 109-149. Rauwenhoff, The independence of the Christian 1857. Cramer, Jaarb. v. wet. Theol. 1870 pp. 1-70. Cremer, Wörterbuch s. v. Herzog2 12, 654. Voigt, Fundamentaldogm. 201 f. Van Leeuwen, Prol. van Bijb. Godg. 41 v.

The Christian religion therefore agrees with all historical religions in this, that it appeals to revelation. But the agreement extends still further, even to the forms and ways in which the revelation takes place. All means of revelation can be reduced to a threefold division. In the first place, religious faith demands a God who is near and not far away [246] Hd. 17:27; it was therefore at all times convinced of the appearance of the gods in one form or another, under one sign or another, in one place or another. Holy places, holy times, holy images are found in almost every religion. The gods are not like human beings and do not live with them on an equal footing; the profane sphere is separated from the sacred; but the gods nevertheless dwell with and among human beings in definite places, in particular objects, and communicate their blessing at definite times. Idolatry, taken in the broadest sense, was born out of the need for a God who is near, Ch. de la Saussaye, Lehrb. der Rel. gesch. I 54 f. 114 f. In the second place, all religions have as their own the belief that the gods in one way or another reveal their thought and their will, whether through human beings as their organs, such as soothsayers, oracles, dreamers, inquirers of the dead, seers of spirits, etc., or artificially and externally through the stars, the flight of birds, the entrails of the sacrificial animals, the play of the flame, the lines of the hand, the accidental opening and falling open of a book, etc., μαντικη, divinatio. Nemo vir magnus sine afflatu divino unquam fuit, Cic. de nat. deor. 2, 66, cf. Cicero de divinatione, Plutarchus, de defectu oraculorum, A. Bouché-Leclercq, Histoire de la divination dans l’antiquité, 4 vol. 1879-82. Saussaye t. a. p. 93 f. And finally, in all religions the belief is present in special intervention and help of the gods in times of need; widely spread is magic, i.e. that art by which human beings, with mysterious means, holy words, formulas, amulets, drinks, etc. make the divine power serviceable to themselves and bring wondrous effects to appearance, Ennemoser, Gesch. der Magie, 2e Aufl. Leipzig 1844. Alfr. Maury, La magie et l’astrologie dans l’antiquité et au moyen-âge 1860. Lenormant, Les sciences occultes en Asie, 2 vol. 1874-’75. Saussaye ib. Theophany, mantic, and magic are the ways by which all revelation comes to the human being. This general religious belief in appearance, prediction, and miracle is certainly not, in any case not exclusively, to be explained from deception or demonic operation, nor also from unfamiliarity with the order of nature, but is a necessary element in all religion. The religious need seeks satisfaction; and where it does not find this in a real revelation of God that meets it, it seeks it in the way of ἐθελοθρησκεια. It takes into service those mysterious powers in the human being himself or outside him in nature, which can bring him into rapport with a supernatural world. Superstition is the bastard form of true religion. Superstition is the caricature of the πιστις. The contemporary phenomena of spiritism, theosophy, telepathy, magnetism, hypnotism, etc. serve as proof of this, and perhaps also show that in the so-called night-side of human nature powers lie hidden which can effect a more immediate rapport with a supersensible world and in any case can sufficiently explain the belief in such rapport, without the hypothesis of intentional deception etc. There are more things in heaven and earth, than are dreamt of in your philosophy (Shakespeare). Cf. art. Modern Superstition in Tijdspiegel Jan. 1895. Holy Scripture seems not to deny all reality to such phenomena, Gen. 41:8; Ex. 7:8; Deut. 13:1, 2; Mt. 7:22, 24:24; 2 Thess. 2:9; 2 Tim. 3:8; Apoc. 13:13-15. But religion in O. and N. T. decidedly wants to have nothing in common with all these religious phenomena. It stands over against them in principle. It neither recognizes nor tolerates them, it forbids them most emphatically Lev. 19:26, 31, 20:27; Num. 23:23; Deut. 18:10, 11; Hd. 8:9, 13:6, 16:16, 19:13 v.; Gal. 5:20; Apoc. 21:8, 22:15. Prophets and apostles protest against it most strongly, in order not to be placed on the same line with the pagan soothsayers and sorcerers. There may sometimes, e.g. in the appearances to the patriarchs, be agreement of form, but there is difference in essence. Theophany, mantic, magic are, like sacrifice, temple, priesthood, cultus, etc., essential elements in religion. They therefore occur in all religions, also in that of Israel, and in Christianity. The Christian religion also has its sacrifice Ef. 5:2, its priest Hebr. 7, its temple 1 Cor. 3:16, etc. The distinction between Christianity and the other religions does not lie in this, that all these necessary elements of religion are lacking there, but is situated herein, that all that occurs in Paganism in caricature, in Israel has become shadow and image, and here has become true, spiritual reality. Thereby it can be explained that Israel’s religion on the one hand in form, circumcision, sacrifice, tabernacle, priesthood, [248] etc. shows so much agreement with the pagan religions and on the other hand is distinguished from them in principle, so that only from Israel the Messiah has proceeded. This principled distinction lies herein, that in Holy Scripture the initiative in religion is not taken by the human being, but by God. In the pagan religions it is the human being who seeks God, Hd. 17:27; he tries in all kinds of ways to cause God to descend to him, and drags Him down into the dust Rom. 1:23; he attempts by all kinds of means to obtain power over God. But in Scripture it is always God who seeks the human being. He creates him after his image. He calls him after the fall. He preserves Noah. He chooses Abraham. He gives to Israel his laws. He calls and equips the prophets. He sends his Son. He sets apart the apostles. He will one day judge the living and the dead. Ethnicism teaches us to know the human being, in his restlessness, in his misery, in his discontent, and also in his noble aspirations, in his eternal needs; the human being both in his poverty and his riches, in his weakness and in his strength; Ethnicism cultivates its noblest fruit in humanism. But Holy Scripture teaches us to know God in his coming to and seeking of the human being, in his compassion and grace, in his justice and his love. But theophany, prophecy, and miracle are also here the means by which God reveals and gives himself to the human being, Oehler, Ueber das Verhältniss der altt. Prophetie zur heidn. Mantik 1861. Id. Altt. Theologie 1882 S. 29 f. 753 f. Tholuck, Die Propheten u. ihre Weissagungen 1860 § 1. Staudenmaier, Encycl. § 231 f. § 271 f. Schultz, Altt. Theologie, 4e Aufl. Göttingen 1889 S. 226 f.

2. Theophany (Angelophany, Christophany). Repeatedly in Holy Scripture there is mention of an appearance of God; sometimes without any further description, Gen. 12:7, 17:1, 22, 26:2, 24, 35:9; Ex. 6:2, cf. also Gen. 11:5; Ex. 4:24, 12:12, 23, 17:6; Num. 23:4, 16; 1 Sam. 3:21; 2 Sam. 5:24; but elsewhere in the dream, Gen. 20:3, 28:12 v. 31 vs. 24; 1 Kon. 3:5, 9:2; or also in the prophetic vision, 1 Kon. 22:19 v. Jes. 6. Ezech. 1:4 v., 3:12 v., 8:4 v., 10:1 v., 43:2 v., 44:4; Am. 7:7, 9:1; Dan. 7:9 v. Luk. 2:9; 2 Petr. 1:17; and more frequently still in clouds of smoke [249] and fire as signs of his presence; thus to Abraham, Gen. 15:17 v., to Moses, Ex. 3:2, 33:18 v., on Sinai, Ex. 19:9, 16 v., 24:16, cf. vs. 9-11, Deut. 5:23, 9:15; Hebr. 12:28, over the people, Ex. 13:21 v., 14:19-24, 40 vs. 38; Num. 9:21, 14:14; Deut. 1:33; Neh. 9:12, 19; Ps. 78:14, above the tabernacle, Ex. 33:9, 40:34 v. Lev. 9:23; Num. 9:15-23, 11:17, 25, 12:5, 17:7, 20:6; Deut. 31:15; Ps. 99:7; Jes. 4:5, and in the holy of holies Ex. 25:8, 22, 29:45, 46; Lev. 16:2, 26:11, 12; Num. 7:89, cf. also still to Elijah 1 Kon. 19:11 v. These appearances presuppose no corporeality of God, Ex. 20:4, 33:20; Deut. 4:12, 15, but are sensibly perceptible signs, by which his presence becomes knowable, just as the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost makes himself known by wind and fire. In connection with that, one is also not to think of an emanation of this cloud from the divine Being, but of a presence of God revealing itself in creaturely forms. In those signs the divine glory, כָּבוֹד, δοξα, becomes manifest, Ex. 16:20, 24:17; Lev. 9:6, 23, 24; Num. 14:10, 16:19, 20:6; and therefore that glory is also described as a consuming fire Ex. 24:7; Lev. 9:23, 24 and as a cloud 1 Kon. 8 vs. 10, 11; Jes. 6:4. But God appears not only in impersonal signs; also in personal beings he visits his people. Surrounded and served by many thousands of angels Jes. 6 vs. 2, 6, he sends these in human form to this earth, in order to make his word and will known. They already occur in Gen. 18, 19, 28:12, 32:1, 2; Deut, 33:2; Job 33:23; 1 Kon. 13:18 and have according to Hd. 7:53; Gal. 3 vs. 19 also served at the giving of the law, but they are mediators of revelation especially after the Exile, Dan. 8:13, 9:11, 10:5; Zach. 1:7-6:5. Still more often they appear in the N. Test.; they are present at the birth of Jesus, Mt. 1:20, 2:13, 19; Luk. 1:11, 2:9, repeatedly in his life, Joh. 1:52; Mt. 4:6, at his suffering, Mt. 26:53; Luk. 22:43, at his resurrection and ascension, Mt. 28:2, 5; Luk. 24:23; Joh. 20:12; Hd. 1:10. In the history of the apostles they occur repeatedly Hd. 5:19, 8:26, 10:3, 11:13, 12:7, 23:9, 27:23; Apoc. 22 vs. 6, 16. And at his return Christ is accompanied by the angels Mt. 16:27, 25:31; Mk. 8:38; Luk. 9:26; 1 Thess. [250] 3:13 etc. Among all these messengers of God the מלאך יהוה occupies a special place. He appears to Hagar, Gen. 16:6-13, 21:17-20; to Abraham, Gen. 18, 19, 22, 24:7, 40; to Jacob, Gen. 28:13-17, 31:11-13, 32:24-30 cf. Hos. 12:4; Gen. 48:15, 16; to and in the time of Moses, Ex. 3:2 v. 13:21, 14:19, 23:20-23, 32:34, 33:2 v. cf. Num. 20:16; Jes. 63:8, 9, and further still Jos. 5:13, 14; Richt. 6:11-24, 13:2-23. This Malak Jhvh is not a dependent symbol, nor also a created angel, but a personal, adequate revelation and appearance of God, distinguished from him, Ex. 23:20-23, 33:14 v.; Jes. 63:8, 9, and yet one with him in name Gen. 16:13, 31:13, 32:28, 30, 48:15, 16; Ex. 3:2 v., 23:21; Richt. 13:1, 2; in power Gen. 16:10, 11, 21:18, 18:14, 18; Ex. 14:21; Richt. 6:21; in redemption and blessing, Gen. 48:16; Ex. 3:8, 23:20; Jes. 63:8, 9; in worship and honor, Gen. 18:3, 22:12; Ex. 23:21. After the deliverance from Egypt the Malak Jhvh withdraws. God dwells among his people in the temple 1 Kon. 8:10 v.; 2 Chron. 7:1 v.; Ps. 68:17, 74:2, 132:13 v., 135:21. Thither the soul’s longing of Israel’s pious ones goes out, Ps. 27:4, 42, 43, 48, 50, 63:3, 65, 84, 122, 137. But this theophany is imperfect. God does not dwell in a house made with hands 1 Kon. 8:27; Jer. 7:4; Mich. 3:11; Hd. 7:48, 17:24. Into the holy of holies only the high priest was permitted to go once a year. The theophany in the O. T. does not yet reach its end and its goal. Therefore yet another and more glorious coming of God to his people is still expected, both for deliverance and for judgment, Ps. 50:3, 96:13; Jes. 2:21, 30:27, 40 v. passim. Mich. 1:3, 4:7; Zeph. 3:8; Joel 3:17; Zach. 2:10 v.; 14:9. The Angel of the covenant appears again in the prophecy Zach. 1:8-12, 3; and will come to his temple Mal. 3:1. The theophany reaches its summit in Christ, who is the ἀγγελος, δοξα, εἰκων, λογος, υἱος του θεου, in whom God has been fully revealed and fully bestowed, Mt. 11:27; Joh. 1:14; 14:9; Col. 1:15, 2:19, etc. Through him and the Spirit, whom he sends out, the dwelling of God among and in his people already now becomes true, spiritual reality Joh. 14:23; Rom. 8:9, 11; 2 Cor. 6:16. The congregation is the house of God, the temple of the H. Spirit, Mt. 18:20; 1 Cor. 3:16, 6:19; [251] Ef. 2:21. But also this indwelling of God in the congregation of Christ is not yet the last and highest. It reaches its full realization only in the new Jerusalem. Then the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they will be his people and God himself will be with them and be their God. They will see his face and his name will be on their foreheads, Mt. 5:8; 1 Cor. 15:28; 1 Joh. 3:2; Openb. 21:3; 22:4. Cf. art. Theophany and Schechina in Herzog2. Art. Wolken- u. Feuersäule in Winer, Bibl. Realwört. Trip, Die Theophanieen in den Geschichtsbüchern des A. T. Leiden 1858 and the literature cited there. Schultz, Altt. Theol. 4e Aufl. 1889 S. 507 f. Oehler, Altt. Theol. 2te Aufl. 1882 S. 195 f. Smend, Lehrb. der altt. Religionsgeschichte 1893 S. 42 f. Weber, System der altsynag. palästin. Theologie, Leipzig 1880 S. 179 f. Cremer, Wörterb. s. v. δοξα. Delitzsch, Bibl. Psychol., 2e Aufl. 1861 S. 49 f. Keerl, Die Lehre des N. T. von der Herrlichkeit Gottes, Basel 1863. Van Leeuwen, Bijb. Godg. 72 v.

3. Prophecy. By prophecy we here understand the communication by God of his thoughts to man. Often the name of inspiration is used for this; and to that extent also more correct, inasmuch as the concept of prophecy is broader than that of inspiration and also includes the proclamation of those thoughts to others. But inspiration is, on the basis of 2 Tim. 3:16, used especially of the written revelation. And the word prophecy was formerly more than once used in our sense, Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 171 art. 1. It also includes the receiving of the thoughts of God, because a prophet is only he who proclaims God’s word. And it brings out better than inspiration the intention of God, with which He communicates his thoughts, viz. that man himself be a prophet, a proclaimer of his virtues. The thoughts of God now, which are communicated in prophecy, can have reference to the past, as in the historical books of Scripture, or to the present, or to the future. But always prophecy sets the thoughts of God over against those of men, his truth over against their lie, his wisdom over against their folly. This communication of God’s thoughts to man can according to Scripture take place in various ways. Sometimes God himself speaks in an audible way, in human voice [252] and language, Gen. 2:16, 3:8-19, 4:6-16, 6:13, 9:1, 8 v., 32:26 v.; Ex. 19:9 v.; Num. 7:89; Deut. 5:4; 1 Sam. 3:3 v.; Mt., 3:17, 17:5; Joh. 12:28, 29. In many places God is represented as speaking, without further description of the manner in which that speaking took place, outwardly or inwardly, in dream or vision, etc. The most intimate character is borne by this speaking of God with Moses, who neither is frightened nor falls down when God speaks to him, but with whom God spoke mouth to mouth, and associated as a friend with his friend, Num. 12:6-8; Ex. 33:11, 34:29; Deut. 5:5, 18:15, 18; 2 Cor. 3:7; Gal. 3:19; Hebr. 3:5. Cf. Thomas S. Theol. II 2 qu. 174 art. 4. Witsius, de proph. I 7. Episcopius, Instit. Theol. III 2. The Jews later spoke of a Bath-Kōl, a heavenly voice, by which God revealed himself; but this stood lower than the earlier prophecy, and had come after the spirit of prophecy had ceased, Weber, System der altsyn. pal. Theol. 187, Herzog2 2, 130. But often God, in the communication of his thoughts, attaches himself to those lower forms, under which also among the Heathen the gods were thought to make their will known. There is then in the form an almost complete agreement. To that belong especially the lot, the Urim and Thummim, the dream and the vision. The lot was used on many occasions, on the great day of atonement Lev. 16:9, in the division of the land, Jos. 13:6, 14:2 etc., Neh. 11:1; of the Levitical cities, Jos. 21:4; of spoil Joel 3:3; Nah. 3:10; Ob. 11; of garments, Mt. 27:35; Joh. 19:23; in decision in difficult cases, Jos. 7; 1 Sam. 14:42; Spr. 16:33, 18:18; Jon. 1:7; in election to an office, 1 Sam. 10:19; Hd. 1:26; 1 Chron. 24:5; Luk. 1:9, etc.; also the ordeal, Num. 5:11-31 can be reckoned herewith, Herzog2 8 762. The Urim and Thummim, LXX δηλωσις και ἀληθεια, Vulg. doctrina et veritas, light and right, occur 7 times Ex. 28:30; Lev. 8:8; Num. 27:21; Deut. 33:8; 1 Sam. 28:6; Ezra 2:63; Neh. 7:65. The U. and Th. are not identical with the 12 precious stones on the breastplate of the high priest, as Josephus Ant. III, 8, 9 and many after him suppose, but were according to Ex. 28:30 and Lev. 8:8 objects that were hidden in the breastplate, Philo, Vita Mosis 3. But how they made God’s will known, by glittering of the stones, [253] by a voice, by inspiration, etc., and also in what they consisted, in two stones with the tetragrammaton, or in little images, or in a necklace made of precious stones, or in stones for casting lots, is wholly unknown. The last opinion has in more recent time received support in the text of 1 Sam. 14:41 altered by Thenius 1842 according to the LXX. The U. and Th. would then have been lots with yes and no and also have been used Judg. 1:1, 20:18; 1 Sam. 22:10, 15, 23:6, 9-11, 30:7 v.; 2 Sam. 2:1, 5:19, 23. But in that case there are answers, not of yes and no, but of long description and digression Judg. 20:27; 1 Sam. 30:7 v.; 2 Sam. 5:23, 21:1; Judg. 1:1, 20:18; 2 Sam. 2:1, especially 1 Sam. 10:22b; 2 Sam. 5:23; 1 Chron. 14:14, not well to be explained. The U. and Th. nevertheless certainly did belong to a same category of revelation as the lot; they occur especially in the time of Solomon and then seem to make way for prophecy proper. Cf. art. U. and Th. in Herzog2. Winer Realwört. Riehm, Wörterb. Keil, Archaeol. § 35. De Wette-Räbiger, Archaeol. S. 281 f. Oehler, Altt. Th. S. 334 f. Schultz, Altt. Th. 257 f. Dosker, Presbyt. and Ref. Rev. Oct. 1892 p. 717 etc.

Subsequently, dreams occur in Holy Scripture as a means of revelation. For that they were held throughout all antiquity, Homer, Od. 19:560 v. Il. 1:63, 2:22, 56. Aristotle, περι της καθ’ ὑπνον μαντικης. Cicero, de divinatione 1:29. Philo, de somniis, etc. Herzog2 15:733. And even now great value is attached to dreams by many, Splittgerber, Schlaf und Tod, 2e Aufl. 1881 I 66-205. Now at all times one knew that dreams were also very deceptive. Homerus Od. 19:560 v. Arist. t. a. p., and also Holy Scripture repeatedly points to the vanity of dreams Ps. 73:20; Job 20:28; Jes. 29:7; Pred. 5:2, 6; Sirach 31:1 v., 34:1 v.; and often ascribes them to the false prophets Jer. 23:25, 29:8; Mich. 3:6; Zach. 10:2. But yet God repeatedly makes use of dreams to make his will known, Num. 12:6; Deut. 13:1-6; 1 Sam. 28:6, 15; Joel 2:28 v.; they occur among Israelites, but also more than once among non-Israelites Gen. 20, 31, 40, 41; Richt. 7; Dan. 2, 4 and contain either a word, a communication of God, Gen. 20:3, 31:9, 24; Matth. 1:20, 2:12, 19, 22, 27:19; or a representation of the imagination, which then often [254] needs explanation Gen. 28. 37:5, 40:5, 41:15; Richt. 7:13; Dan. 2, 4. Literature, with Herzog2 15:734. G. E. W. de Wijs, The dreams in and outside the Bible 1858. Witsius, de proph. I cap. 5.

With the dream the vision is related Gen. 15:1, 11; 20:7; Num. 12:6. Already the names רֹאֶה‎, ‏חֹזֶה‎, ‏נָבִיא and perhaps also צֹפֶה with which the prophet is named, Kuenen, De Profeten I 49, 51 v. 97. Id. Godsd. v. Isr. I 212. Id. Hist. Cr. Ond. II2 5 v. König, Der Offenbarungsbegriff I 71 f. Delitzsch, Genesis3 634. Schultz, Altt. Th. 239. Smend, Lehrb. 79 f., and the names מַרְאֶה and חָזוֹן for the prophetic sight probably indicate that the vision was a not uncommon means of revelation. But these words have often lost their original meaning and are also used when there is no proper sight any longer taking place, 1 Sam. 3:15; Jes. 1:1; Ob. 1; Nah. 1:1, etc. Visions are repeatedly mentioned and described in Scripture, from Genesis on down to the Apoc. Gen. 15:1, 46:2; Num. 12:6, 22:3, 24:3; 1 Kon. 22:17-23; Jes. 6, 21:6; Jer. 1:24; Ezech. 1-3, 8-11, 40; Dan. 1:17, 2:19, 7, 8, 10; Amos 7-9; Zach. 1-6; Matth. 2:13, 19; Luk. 1:22, 24:23; Hd. 7:55, 9:3, 10:3, 10, 16:9, 22:17, 26:19; 1 Cor. 12-14; 2 Cor. 12:1; Apoc. 1:10, etc. The vision was many times accompanied by a certain spiritual rapture. Music, dance, and ecstasy go together; prophecy and poetry are related, 1 Sam. 10:5 v., 19:20-24; 2 Kon. 3:15; 1 Chr. 25:1, 25; 2 Chr. 29:30. When the hand of the Lord falls upon the prophets, Jes. 8:11; Ezech. 3:14, 11:5, or the Spirit comes upon them, they many times come into a state of rapture Num. 24:3; 2 Kon. 9:11; Jer. 29:26; Hos. 9:5, and fall to the earth Num. 24:3, 15, 16; 1 Sam. 19:24; Ezech. 1:28, 3:23, 43:3; Dan. 10:8-10; Hd. 9:4; Apoc. 1:17, 11:16, 22:8. In that state the thoughts of God are given to them to see or to hear in symbolic form. In images and sights his counsel is revealed to them Jer. 1:13 v., 24:1 v.; Am. 7-9; Zach. 1-6; Apoc., etc.; especially concerning the future, Num. 23 v.; 1 Kon. 22:17; 2 Kon. 5:26, 8:11 v.; Jer. 4:23 v., 14:18; Ezech. 8; Am. 7, etc. They also hear in that state all kinds of voices and sounds, 1 Kon. 18:41; 2 Kon. 6:32; Jes. 6:3, 8; Jer. 21:10, 49:14; Ezech. 1:24, 28, 2:2, 3:12; Apoc. 7:4, 9:16, 14:2, [255] 19:1, 21:3, 22:8, etc. They are even taken up in the spirit and transported, Ezech. 3:12 v., 8:3, 43:1; Dan. 8:2; Matth. 4:5, 8; Hd. 9:10, 10, 11, 22:17, 23:11, 27:23; 2 Cor. 12:2; Apoc. 1:9, 12, 4:1, 12:18. Daniel was ill for some days after receiving a vision, 7:28, 8:27. Yet the ecstasy in which the recipients of revelation were many times found was not a state in which consciousness was wholly or partially suppressed. Such indeed was the state in which the Greek μαντεις gave their oracles, Tholuck, Die Propheten u. s. w. 64 f. And Philo, Quis rer. div. heres, Just. Martyr, Dial. c. Tryph, c. 135. Coh. ad Graecos c. 37. Athenagoras, Leg. pro Christ. c. 8. Tertul. adv. Marc. 4, 22 and in more recent times Hengstenberg in the first edition of his Christol. des A. T. III. 2. 158 f. have understood the ecstasy of the prophets in this way. But these do not receive visions in a sleeping but in a waking state, not only in solitude, but also in the presence of others, Ezech. 8:1. Under the vision they remain conscious of themselves, see, hear, think, speak, ask and answer Ex. 4-6, 32:7 v.; Jes. 6; Jer. 1; Ezech. 4-6 etc. and later they remember everything and communicate it accurately, König, Der Offenbarungsbegriff, I 160 f. II 83 f. Kuenen, De profeten I 96 v. Oehler, Altt. Theol. § 207 f. Orelli in Herzog2 16:724. Therefore the psychic condition of the prophets under the vision was held by most theologians to be a self-conscious, spiritual contemplation, an alienatio mentis a sensibus corporis, and not an alienatio a mente; thus, among others, by Orig. de princ. III, 3, 4, August. ad Simplic. II qu. 1. Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 175. Witsius, de proph. I c. 4. Buddeus, Inst. theol. dogm. I, 2, 5 and in more recent times by Hävernick and Keil in their introduction to the O. T. Oehler, Altt. Theol. § 210. Tholuck, Die Propheten S. 64 f. Kueper, Das Profetenthum des Alten Bundes S. 51 f. Orelli at Herzog2 16, 724. König, Offenb. II 132 f. Only König, in order to maintain objectivity, has added to that the peculiar opinion that all visions were outward, bodily, and sensibly perceptible. Indeed many appearances such as Gen. 18, 32, Ex. 3, 19, etc. are, according to the intention of the writers, to be regarded as objective. There is a distinction between theophany and vision. But nevertheless the above-mentioned [256] visions, 1 Kon. 22:17 v.; Jes. 6; Jer. 1; Ezech. 1-3; Dan.; Amos 7-9; Zach. 1-6, etc. are certainly inward and spiritual. Many are of such a nature that they are not sensibly imaginable and perceptible. König goes too far when he makes the objectivity and truth of revelation depend on its outwardness, and can think of no working of God’s Spirit in the spirit of man except through the outward senses. He forgets that there are also hallucinations of sight and hearing, that the outward as such does not yet exclude self-deception and thus the certainty of revelation is not sufficiently proved by its outward character alone, Orelli at Herzog2 16:724 f. Kuenen H. C. O. II2 13. Van Leeuwen, Bijb. Godg. 62 v. Borchert, Die Visionen der Propheten, Stud. u. Krit. 1895, 2tes Heft.

As the last form of revelation, the inner illumination must still be mentioned. Hengstenberg, Christol. des A. T. III2 2 S. 158 cf. also Kueper, Das Proph. 53 f. thought that ecstasy was the ordinary state in which the prophet found himself when receiving revelation. But this opinion has been contested by many, e.g. by Riehm, Mess. Weissagung2 S. 15 f. König, Der Off. begriff II 48 f. 83 f. 132 f. and is now generally rejected. Ecstasy is not the rule, but the exception, Kuenen, Prof. I 98. H. C. O2 II 11. Most revelations to the prophets, also in the O. T., took place without any vision, e.g. with Isaiah, Hagg., Mal., Ob., Nah., Hab., Jerem., Ezech. Indeed, for the divine utterance the word “vision” is still often used, but this also happens where nothing is seen Jes. 1:1, 2:1; Amos 1:1; Hab. 1:1, 2:1; 1 Sam. 3:15; Ob. 1; Nah. 1:1 etc. The revelation then takes place inwardly through the Spirit, as Spirit of revelation. To be sure, König, Der Off. I 104 f. 141 f. 155 f. has asserted that the Spirit is not principle of revelation but only principle of illumination, i.e. that Jahveh reveals but the Spirit only makes subjectively receptive for that revelation; König came to this because he also thereby wished to maintain the objectivity and externality of revelation and wished to bind the subjective Spirit to the objective word of Jahveh. But Num. 11:25-29; Deut. 34:9, 1 Sam. 10:6, 19:20 v.; 2 Sam. 23:2; 1 Kon. 22:24; 1 Chron. 12:18, 28:12; 2 Chron. 15:1, 20:14 v., 24:20; Neh. 9:30; Jes. 11:1, 30:1, 42:1, 48:16, 59:21, 61:1, 63:10 v., Ezech. [257] 2:2, 3:24, 8:3, 11:5, 24; Micha 3:8; Hos. 9:7; Joël 2:28; Zach. 7:12, cannot be understood exclusively of a formal, subjective enabling by the Spirit; they teach clearly that the prophets spoke not only through but out of the Spirit, that prophecy proceeded from the Spirit in them. There was indeed also an activity of the Spirit making the prophet subjectively capable, but this is not the only one; it is not to be separated so strictly from the other revealing activity as König does; it is, on König’s standpoint, where revelation is wholly external, also unnecessary, Kuenen H. C. O2 14. And the lying spirit 1 Kon. 22:22 teaches clearly that the Spirit is source of the word, Herz.2 16:721. Jewish theology saw in the Spirit not only the source of illumination, but also of revelation and prophecy. Weber, System der altsyn. pal. Theol. 184-187. The N. Test. declares just as clearly that the O. T. prophets spoke out of and through the Spirit of God, Hd. 28:25; 1 Petr. 1:11; 2 Petr. 1:21. Yet there is a difference in the manner in which the H. Spirit inwardly communicates revelation in O. and N. T. Under the O. T. the H. Spirit descends from above and momentarily upon someone. He comes upon the prophets, Num. 24:2; 1 Sam. 19:20, 23; 2 Chr. 15:1, 20:14; becomes active upon them, Richt. 14:19, 15:14; 1 Sam. 10:6; falls upon them, Ez. 11:5; draws them on as a garment, Richt. 6:34; 1 Chr. 12:18; the hand, i.e. the power of the Lord, seizes them, Jes. 8:11; Ez. 1:3, 3:22, 8:1, 37:1, 40:1. Over against this working of the Spirit the prophets are then also mostly passive; they are silent, fall to the earth, are dismayed, and for a time are in an abnormal, ecstatic state. The Spirit of prophecy is not yet the abiding possession of the prophets; there is still separation and distance between the two; and the estate of the prophets still stands apart over against the people. The whole prophecy is still imperfect. Therefore it also looks ahead and expects a prophet upon whom the Spirit of the Lord will rest Deut. 18:18; Jes. 11:2, 61:1; indeed it foretells the fulfillment of Moses’ wish that all the people of the Lord might be prophets Num. 11:29; and it testifies of a future indwelling of God’s Spirit in all children of the Lord, Jes. 32:15, 44:3, 59:21; Joël 2:28; Ez. 11:19, 36:27, 39:29. In the N. T. the highest, the only, the true prophet appears. As Logos He is the full and completed revelation of God, Joh. 1:1 [258] v. 18, 14:9, 17:6; Col. 2:9. He receives no revelation from above or outside, but is Himself the source of prophecy. The H. Spirit does not come upon Him and does not fall down upon Him. He dwells in Him without measure Joh. 3:34. Out of that Spirit He is conceived, through that Spirit He speaks, acts, lives and dies, Mt. 3:16, 12:28; Luk. 1:17, 2:27, 4:1, 14, 18; Rom. 1:4; Hebr. 9:14. And that Spirit He bestows upon His disciples, not only as Spirit of regeneration and sanctification but also as Spirit of revelation and illumination, Mk. 13:11; Luk. 12:12; Joh. 14:17, 15:26, 16:13, 20:22; Hd. 2:4, 6:10, 8:29, 10:19, 11 vs. 12, 13:2, 18:5, 21:4; 1 Cor. 2:12 v.; 12:7-11. Through that Spirit particular persons are indeed still enabled for the office of prophet, Rom. 12:7; 1 Cor. 14:3; Ef. 2:20, 3:5 etc. Also the actual prediction is not lacking in the N. T., Mt. 24; Hd. 20:23, 21:8; 1 Cor. 15; 2 Thess. 2. Apoc. But all believers nevertheless partake of the anointing of the Spirit, 1 Joh. 2:20; and are taught by the Lord, Mt. 11:25-27; Joh. 6:45. All are prophets, who proclaim the virtues of the Lord, Hd. 2:17 v.; 1 Petr. 2:9. Prophecy as a special gift will be done away, 1 Cor. 13:8. In the new Jerusalem the name of God will be on everyone’s foreheads. The lie is there completely excluded, Apoc. 21:27, 22:4, 15. Literature on the prophets and prophecy in Schultz Altt. Theol. 4e Aufl. 213 f; and further König, Der Offenbarungsbegriff des A. T. Leipzig, Hinrichs 1882. Kuenen, Hist. crit. Onderzoek, 2e uitg. 1889 II bl. 1 v. Smend, Lehrbuch der altt. Religionsgesch. 1893. S. 79 f. Kuyper, Encycl. II 362 v. 429 v. C. H. Cornill, Der israel. Prophetismus, Strassburg 1894.

4. Miracles. Just as man, apart from his appearance and his word, also makes himself known by his deeds, so God also reveals himself not only by his words but also by his works. Word and deed stand in close connection. God’s word is a deed, Ps. 33:9; and his doing is a speaking, Ps. 19:2, 29:3; Isa. 28:26. Both, word and deed, accompany each other in creation as well as in re-creation. Commonly the word precedes, as promise or as threat, but it contains the deed as in germ within itself. His word does not return empty, but does what pleases Him, Isa. 55:10, 11. The word demands the deed; [259] the miracle accompanies the prophecy; not only the consciousness, also the being must be renewed. The words with which in Scripture the deeds, the works of God are designated, are different. According to their outward appearance they are נִפְלָאוֹת Ex. 3:20, 34:10; Ps. 71:17; פֶּלֶא Ex. 15:11; Isa. 25:1, insignia, ingentia, or מוֹפְתִים Ex. 4:21, 7:19; Ps. 105:5, splendidum quid, both gr. τερατα, something special, unusual, that distinguishes itself from the ordinary events. They are called גְּבוּרוֹת Deut. 3:24; Ps. 21:14, 54:3, 66:7, δυναμεις, מַעֲשִׂים Ps. 8:7, 19:2, 103:22; Isa. 5:19 or עֲלִילוֹת Ps. 9:12, 77:13 ἐργα μεγαλεια, in order to [designate] the great, divine power that reveals itself in them. Especially they are also called אוֹת Ex. 3:12, 12:13, etc. because they are a proof and sign of the presence of God. Those works of God are to be noted first of all in his creation and preservation. All God’s works are miracles. Also the works of nature are many times in Scripture designated with the name of miracles, Ps. 77:13, 97:3, 98:1, 107:24, 139:14. From that, however, it may not with Scholten, Supranaturalisme in verband met Bijbel, Christendom en Protestantisme Leiden 1867 bl. 9 v. be inferred that Holy Scripture knows no distinction between nature and miracle. Certainly, the thought that a miracle would be in conflict with the laws of nature and thus would be impossible, does not arise. Rather, the whole of Scripture proceeds from the faith that for God nothing is too wonderful, Gen. 18:14; Deut. 8:3 v.; Mt. 19:26. But therefore there is no lack of a distinction between the ordinary order of nature and the extraordinary acts of power of God. The O. T. knows a fixed order of nature, ordinances that apply for heaven and earth, that are fixed in the ordinance of the Lord, Gen. 1:26, 28, 8:22; Ps. 104:5, 9, 119:90, 91, 148:6; Eccl. 1:10; Job 38:10 v.; Jer. 5:24, 31:25 v., 33:20, 25. And the N. T. makes an equally clear distinction, Mt. 8:27, 9:5, 24, 33, 13:54; Luk. 5:9, 7:16, 8:53; Joh. 3:2, 9:32, etc. Miracles are a בְּרִיאָה a creation, something new, that otherwise is never seen, Ex. 34:10; Num. 16:30. The facts that in Holy Scripture are mentioned as miracles are also by us still regarded as miracles; about the qualification of those facts there is no difference, cf. Herzog2 17:360. Pierson, Gods wondermacht en ons geestelijk leven 1867 bl. 10 v. Gloatz in Stud. [260] u. Krit. 1886, 3tes Heft S. 403 f. W. Bender, Der Wunderbegriff des N. T. Frankf. 1871 S. 100 f. Schultz, Altt. Theol. 577 f. Furthermore Scripture does indeed acknowledge that also outside the revelation unusual powers can work and unusual things can happen, Ex. 7:11, 22, 8:7, 18, 9:11; Mt. 24:24; Apoc. 13:13 v.; a sign or miracle is in itself thus not enough for the sealing of a prophet, Deut. 13:1-3. But yet it is only Israel’s God who does miracles, Ps. 72:18, 77:15, 86:10, 136:4. Sometimes He brings those miracles about himself directly; sometimes He makes use of men or angels. But always it is God who does them. His δυναμις becomes manifest in them, Luk. 5:17, 14:19; Mk. 7:34; Luk. 11:20; Joh. 3:2, 5:19 v., 10:25, 32; Acts 2:22, 4:10. It is the Spirit of the Lord who works them, Mt. 12:28; Acts 10:38.

The miracles have their beginning and their foundation in the creation and preservation of all things, which is a continual work and miracle of God, Ps. 33:6, 9; Joh. 5:17. All that happens has its ultimate ground in the will and the power of God. Nothing can withstand Him. He does with the host of heaven according to his good pleasure, Jes. 55:8 v. Ps. 115:3. This power and freedom of God is proclaimed by nature, Jer. 5:22, 10:12, 14:22, 27:5; Jes. 40:12, 50:2, 3; Ps. 33:13-17, 104; Job 5:9 v., 9:4 v., etc. but comes to expression especially in the history of his people, Deut. 10:21, 11:3, 26:8, 29:2, 32:12 v.; Ps. 66:5 v., 74:13 v., 77:15 v., 78:4 v., 135:8 v.; Jes. 51:2, 9; Jer. 32:20 v.; Hd. 7:2 v. In this history the miracles occur especially. They take place with different purpose. Now once, to punish the ungodly, Gen. 6:6 v., 11, 19; Ex. 5 v.; Lev. 10:1; Num. 11:30 v., 14:21, 16:1 v., 21:6, etc. Mt. 8:32, 21:19; Hd. 13:11, etc. Then, to save and deliver God’s people, to bring salvation and healing, such as the plagues in Egypt, the passage through the Red Sea, the miracles in the wilderness, the healings of Jesus. More than once they also have the direct or indirect intention, to confirm the mission of the prophets, the truth of their word, and thus faith in their testimony, Ex. 4:1-9; Deut. 13:1 v.; Richt. 6:37 v.; 1 Sam. 12:16 v.; 1 Kon. 17:24; 2 Kon. 1:10, 20:8; Jes. 7:11, etc.; Mt. 14:33; Luk. 5:24; Joh. 2:11, 3:2, 5:36, 6:14, [261] 7:31, 9:16, 10:38, 12:37; Hd. 2:22, 10:38, etc. Prophecy and gift of miracles go together. All the prophets and also the apostles have the consciousness of being able to do miracles. Moses was great also in his miracles, Ex. 5-15; Deut. 34:10-12. His sin once consisted in doubt of God’s miraculous power, Num. 20:10 v. Around Elijah and Elisha a cycle of miracles is grouped, 1 Kon. 17-2 Kon. 13. With the later prophets the miracles no longer take so great a place. Often they make use of so-called symbolic actions, in order thereby to confirm their prophecy and, as it were, initially to realize it, 1 Kon. 11:29-39, 20:35 v., 22:11; Jes. 7:3, 8:1, 20:2 v., 21:6, 30:8; Jer. 13, 16, 18, 19, 25:15, 27, 28:10 v., 32:6, 43:8; Ezech. 4, 5, 6:11, 7:23, 12:3, 17:1; Hos. 1-3; Hd. 21:10 v., Schultz, Altt. Theol. 250 f. Smend, Lehrb. der altt. Rel. Gesch. 88. König, Der Offenbarungsbegriff II 111 f. But nevertheless miracles are still narrated of them too, and they have the conviction of being able to do miracles, Jes. 7:11, 16:14, 21:16, 38:7 cf. 2 Kon. 20; Jer. 22:12, 30, 28:16, 29:22, 36:30, 37:7 v.; Dan. 1-6. But all those miracles in the O. T. have not effected an elevation, a renewal of nature. They have had their effect. They have alternately punished and blessed humanity, and in any case preserved it from destruction. They have created in Israel a distinct people, delivered it from the bondage of Egypt, preserved it from merging with the Gentiles, and as the people of God protected it over against the oppressive power of nature. But they were momentary, passed by, diminished in effect and were forgotten. Life took its usual course. Nature seemed to triumph. Then prophecy raised its voice and it spoke that Israel could not perish and dissolve into the natural life of the Gentiles. God will come anew and in greater glory to his people. God will not forget his covenant, it is an eternal covenant, Ps. 89:1-5; Jes. 54:10. With that coming of God the old time passes over into the new. That is the turning point in world history. It is the יוֹם יהוה, the Day of the Lord, on which He will reveal his glory and display his miraculous power. God then gives signs of wonder in heaven, Am. 8:8 v.; Joel 2:30. The whole of nature, heaven and earth, will be moved [262] , Am. 9:5; Jes. 13:10, 13, 24:18-20, 34:1-5; Joel 2:2, 10, 3:15; Mich. 1:3 v.; Hab. 3:3 v.; Nah. 1:4 v.; Ezech. 31:15 v., 32:7 v., 38:19 v. Judgment will go over the ungodly, Jes. 24:16 v. etc. but it will also purify and set free. God will save his people by his miracles, Jes. 9:3, 10:24 v., 11:15 v., 43:16-21, 52:10, 62:8. He does something new on the earth, Jes. 43:19, brings Israel back out of death, Ezech. 37:12-14, and makes it share in a fullness of spiritual and material blessings. Forgiveness of sins, holiness, a new covenant, Jes. 44:21-23, 43:25; Ezech. 36:25-28; Jer. 31:31 v.; Zach. 14:20, 21, but also peace, security, prosperity will be its portion. Even nature will change into a paradise, Hos. 2:17 v.; Joel 3:18; Jer. 31:6, 12-14; Jes. 11:6-8, 65:25; Ezech. 34:29, 36:29 v.; Zach. 8:12. There comes a new heaven and a new earth, and the former things will no longer be remembered, Jes. 65:17, 66:22. This Jom Jhvh, this עֹלָם הַבָּא, αἰων μελλων, in contrast with the עֹלָם הַזֶּה, αἰων οὑτος, has, according to the representation of Scripture, begun with the N. Test. The coming of Christ is the turning point of the times. A new cycle of miracles is grouped around his person. He himself is the absolute miracle, descended from above and yet the true, perfect man. In him, in principle, creation has been restored again, raised up again from its fall to its former glory. His miracles are σημεια of the presence of God, proof of the Messianic time, Mt. 11:3-5, 12:28; Luk. 13:16, a part of his Messianic work. In Christ a divine δυναμις appears, which is stronger than every corrupting and devastating power of sin. This power he attacks, not only in the periphery, by healing diseases and ailments and doing all kinds of miracles; but he penetrates into its center, breaks and overcomes it. His incarnation and satisfaction, his resurrection and ascension are the great acts of deliverance of God. They are the principial restoration of the kingdom of glory. These facts of salvation are not means only, to reveal something, but they are the revelation of God itself. The miracle here becomes history, and history itself is a miracle. The person and the work of Christ is the central revelation of God; all other revelation groups itself around that. [263] But also after Jesus’ departure his miraculous power continues in the disciples, Mt. 10; Mk. 16:18; Luk. 8. And not only in the Acts are many miracles narrated, 2:43, 3:5, 5:12-16, 6:8, 8:6, 7, 13, 9:34, 40, 13:11, 14:3, 16:18, 19:11, 20:10, 28:5, 8; but Paul also bears witness to this miraculous power of the apostles, Rom. 15:18, 19; 1 Cor. 12:9, 10; 2 Cor. 12:12; Gal. 3:5, cf. Hebr. 2:4. For a time this miraculous power continues still in the congregation. But it has ceased, when Christianity is established and the church is the object in which God glorifies the miracles of his grace, Aug. de civ. 22:8, de util. cred. 16, de vera relig. 25. The spiritual miracles are those in which God now reveals his power and his glory, Luther bij Köstlin, Luthers Theol. II 249 v. 341 v. Scholten, L. H. K. I 143. Yet Scripture points to a future in which the miracle will anew do its work. The αἰων μελλων is completed only in the new heaven and the new earth, in which righteousness dwells. Then the miracle has become nature. Ethos and physis are reconciled. The kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world is one, Op. 21-22. Cf. Oehler Theol. des A. T. 1882 S. 210 f. Schultz, Altt. Theol. 270 f. 534 f. 577 f. Smend, Lehrb. der Altt. Rel. Gesch. 88 f. W. Bender, Der Wunderbegriff des N. T. Frankf. a/M. 1871. Ph. Schaff, Jesus Christ, the wonder of history 1867. Neander, Gesch. der Pflanzung u. Leitung der Chr. K. 5e Aufl. 1862 S. 49 f. 154 f. 336 f. Tholuck, Vermischte Schriften, Hamb. 1839 I 28 f.

B. Concept of special revelation.

5. The system of revelation, which Scripture makes known to us, has been far too much misunderstood and neglected in Christian theology. Only in more recent times has the concept and the essence of revelation become the object of deeper investigation. Formerly no need for this was felt. Between the Christians and the Heathens the possibility of revelation was not in dispute. The struggle was only over the truth of that revelation which was taught in O. and N. Test. And this was argued on all kinds of grounds by the apologists over against the attacks especially of Celsus and Porphyrius. For the rest, the [264] thoughts about revelation came down to this schema: God can only be known through God. All knowledge and service of God therefore rests on revelation on his part. But the revelation of God in nature and history is insufficient. Therefore there is need of a special revelation, which reaches its climax in Christ, Harnack, Lehrb. der Dogmengesch. I2 420 f. 436 f. 453 f. The following theologians, especially also the scholastics, devoted all care to determining and describing the relation between nature and revelation, knowing and believing, philosophy and theology, but did not think through the concept of revelation and also brought it up only in passing, cf. Thomas S. Theol. I qu. 57 art. 5 ad 3. II 2 qu. 2 art. 6. III qu. 55 art. 3. The Protest. theologians too have devoted too little attention to this concept. They immediately identified revelation with Holy Scripture and did not entirely escape the abstract-supranaturalistic and one-sidedly intellectualistic conception which had gradually been formed of it in theology. Cf. Gerhard, Loci Theol. I § 12. Calovius, Isagoge ad theol. p. 101 sq. 142 sq. Polanus, Synt. Theol. VI 9. Maresius, Syst. Theol. I § 15 sq. Heidegger, Corpus Theol. XII 46. Socinianism drove this supernatural and intellectual concept of revelation to a point, Fock, Der Socin. 296 f. 314 f. Remonstrantism had essentially the same representation, Limborch, Theol. Christ. II 9, 18. Between rationalism and supranaturalism there was no difference over the concept of revelation; for both it consisted in an external communication of doctrine. It was not surprising, and also fully deserved, that such a concept of revelation could not withstand the criticism of deism and rationalism. What was the religious value of a revelation which gave nothing but some intellectual truth, which perhaps later would still be found by reason itself? Yet it appeared that one had settled accounts with the concept of revelation all too quickly. Religion and revelation showed, upon deeper historical and philosophical investigation, a much closer affinity than had formerly been supposed. Thus the concept of revelation again came more into honor in more recent theology and philosophy, and various attempts at reconstruction were tried.

Hamann, Claudius, Lavater, Herder, Jacobi and others pointed to the affinity of religion and art and brought revelation [265] into connection with genial inspiration. The concept of revelation was thus expanded, so that everything became revelation. Religion, poetry, philosophy, history, language are different expressions of one and the same original life. Omnia divina et humana omnia. And in the midst of all these revelations stands Christ; to Him everything points, around Him everything groups itself, Ehrenfeuchter, Christenthum und moderne Weltanschauung, Göttingen 1876 S. 243 f. Schleiermacher also, Glaub. § 10, 13, decisively rejected the rationalistic doctrine of revelation. He did not seek its peculiarity in the more or less supernatural character which it bears, but in the new and original with which a person or an event appears in history. Revelation is therefore akin to poetic and heroic inspiration, and in fact consists in awakening new, original affections of religious feeling. By Schleiermacher that conception of revelation was prepared which locates its existence not in communication of doctrine but of life. Rothe, Zur Dogmatik 1862 S. 55-120 has, regarding revelation as inspiration, the same thought, but he assumes therewith, as a constitutive element of revelation, still an external, historical manifestation, in order that the internal revelation, the inspiration, may not be magical and mechanical. The peculiarities of the concept of revelation among the theologians who more or less attach themselves to Schleiermacher consist then especially in this: revelation is to be distinguished from theopneusty, from the H. Scripture; Scripture is not the revelation but its document; revelation is a religious, more precisely still a soteriological concept, indeed akin to genial, poetic, heroic inspiration but not identical; it is the correlate of religion alone; proceeding from God as Redeemer, it has no doctrine about all kinds of physical, historical and metaphysical things as its content, but only religious-ethical truth; it is communication of life, self-communication of God; it is not in the strict sense supernatural, but genuinely natural and human; it is finally not only external (manifestation), but also internal and spiritual (inspiration). Alongside this there is indeed still difference about beginning, extent, end of revelation, but in the main this is nevertheless the conception, as it is found in Nitzsch, System der chr. Lehre § 22. Twesten I 341 f. Martensen § 11, 12. Lange I § 56 f. Dorner I 569 f. Frank, System der chr. Wahrheit 2e Aufl. [266] II 8 f. Kähler, Wiss. der chr. Lehre I 192 f. Saussaye, mijne theologie 35 v. Gunning en Saussaye, Het ethisch beginsel 21 v. etc.

But not only Schleiermacher and his school have brought the concept of revelation to new life; Schelling and Hegel also have attempted the same in their way. Through them rationalism acquired a speculative character. They did not try to destroy Christian revelation by a critique of the understanding, but sought speculatively to trace the deep idea which lay at its foundation and at that of all Christian dogmas, and thus set themselves, as speculative rationalism, over against the vulgar rationalism of earlier times. According to Schelling in his first period, the whole world was the self-revelation of God. Nature is the visible spirit, spirit the invisible nature. God’s essence becomes knowable to man from the whole of nature, especially however from the development of the human spirit in art, religion, and science. And thus Hegel also taught that God does not reveal himself to man through a transient event in time, but He reveals himself in man himself, and becomes conscious of himself in man. And this becoming conscious of himself of God in man, is man’s knowledge of God, is religion, Religionsphilosophie 1832 I 29. II 158. Encyclop. S. 576. Revelation in Hegel is thus identical with the necessary self-revelation, with the becoming conscious of itself of the Absolute in the human spirit; the history of religions is the history of the Absolute’s coming to itself in human consciousness, and reaches its climax in Christianity, which expresses the unity of God and man. To this thought about revelation, as self-communication of God to each and every man, there attaches in the main that conception of revelation which we find in Marheineke, Grundlehren der chr. Dogm. § 206. Rosenkranz, Encycl. der theol. Wiss. 2e Aufl. 1845 S. 1 f. Erdmann, Glauben und Wissen 1837. Strauss, Glaubenslehre § 19. Feuerbach, Wesen des Christ. 2e Ausg. S. 174. Biedermann, Chr. Dogm. I 264 f. Pfleiderer, Grundriss § 16. Lipsius, Dogm. § 52, Philos. und Religion 1885 S. 266 f. Scholten, Initia, ed. 2. p. 26-39. L. H. K. I 165 v. 233, 299. What is common to these is the denial of the supernatural character of revelation, but otherwise there is great difference about content, extent, and manner. From both [267] groups the concept of revelation in the school of Ritschl is again distinguished. The peculiarity of this conception lies herein, that very little value is attached to the distinction of natural and supernatural revelation, that emphasis is laid on the positive character of every religion and on the historical, external in revelation, and that for Christianity that historical revelation is found especially or even exclusively in the person of Christ, Ritschl Rechtf. u. Vers. III3 190 f. 599 f. Kaftan, Wesen der chr. Religion 171 f. 295 f. Herrmann, Der Begriff der Offenbarung Giessen 1887. G. v. Schulthess-Rettberg, Der Gedanke einer göttlichen Offenbarung, Zurich 1893. Nitzsch, Lehrbuch der ev. Dogm. S. 131 f. Cf. the Groninger school in our country here, Hofstede de Groot, De Groninger Godgeleerden in hunne eigenaardigheid 42 v.

A clear and lucid understanding of revelation is still lacking in dogmatics. Among theologians there is disagreement about everything that comes into consideration with that concept. Perhaps a boundary can be drawn between those who assume a supernatural revelation or only a natural revelation. But even then the question arises whether the supernatural character of revelation lies in the manner in which it came to us, or in the new, original character of the content (Schleiermacher). In what, further, is supernatural revelation distinguished from natural revelation in nature and history, especially from the religious, poetic, heroic inspiration that is also found outside Christianity and has so often been brought into connection with Christian revelation (Hamann, Herder, Jacobi, Schleiermacher)? Where, subsequently, is that supernatural revelation to be found, also in the religions of the Heathens, or only in Israel, or even exclusively in the person of Christ (Schleiermacher, Ritschl). How far does it extend after Christ, is it limited to Him, or is also the working of the H. Spirit in regeneration, conversion, etc. still to be reckoned under the concept of revelation (Frank)? Is its content in the first place knowledge, so that it enlightens the understanding (Hegel, Biedermann, Scholten), or is it chiefly mystical in nature, an operation upon the disposition, an affection, an arousing of feeling (Schleiermacher, Lipsius, Opzoomer, Ethischen)? In revelation, is the external, the historical, the manifestation, whether then in nature (Hegel, Scholten), [268] or whether in history (Schelling, Ritschl), or specifically also as miracle (Rothe) the main matter, or does the centre of gravity lie in the subject in the self-revelation of the absolute Spirit, of God, to man (Biedermann, Lipsius)?

6. The revelation, which Scripture makes known to us, does not consist in a few disconnected words and facts, but is one historical and organic whole, a mighty world-governing and world-renewing system of acts of God. It appears, as we saw, in three forms, theophany, prophecy, and miracle, שְׁכִינָה‎, ‏נְבוּיָה‎ and בְּרִיאָה‎. But these three do not stand separately alongside one another; they form one whole and together aim at one goal. Already through the revelatio generalis God does not leave himself without witness to man; He reveals himself in nature and history, He speaks in heart and conscience; He works miracles of power. The revelatio generalis too may be called revelation. For in a broad sense revelation is all action that proceeds from God, in order to place man in a religious relation to Him. But through sin another revelation becomes necessary, which indeed stands in manifold connection with the revelatio generalis but which nevertheless is essentially, in form and content, distinct from it. It is directed, after all, to fallen man, and must therefore be a revelation of grace. The revelatio specialis is God’s seeking of and God’s coming to man. He must now so reveal himself and so speak and so work, that man is again renewed after his image. Therefore God comes to man in a human way. The incarnation is the central fact in the revelatio specialis, which spreads light over its whole domain. Already in creation God makes himself like men. But in the re-creation He becomes man and enters into our condition. And this incarnation, which is the proper content of the revelatio specialis, already in a certain sense begins immediately after the fall. The special revelation of God enters into history, and forms a history, which runs through the centuries. It assumes such a historical character, because humanity itself, to whom it is directed, exists only in the historical form. It shares its life, follows it in its courses, traverses with it the times unto the end. It reaches back deeply into the life of creation [269], attaches itself to providence and causes its light to shine through the prism of human persons, conditions, and events. It makes use of all character and individuality, of all disposition and gift, which are given in creation. It wraps itself in the forms of type and shadow, of image and symbol, of art and poetry, of epistolary form and chronicle. In religion it takes over the usages which are found in other religions, such as circumcision and offering, temple and priesthood. It even does not deem lot and dream and vision too insignificant to employ them as instrument. So deeply does the divine descend into the human, that the boundaries between revelation and pseudo-religion seem to be erased. Divine speech and oracle, prophecy and mantics, miracle and magic seem to draw near to one another.

And yet it is another heart that beats in Israel’s religion. The peripheral and atomistic view appeals to such facts of agreement between the religion of Scripture and the religions of the peoples, but it does not explain revelation in its character and significance, and in the end knows no counsel with Scripture. Therefore this view must yield to the central and organic, which from the center lets the light shine out to the outermost circumference. And that center is the incarnation of God. He is the one who in the revelatio specialis descends and makes himself like human beings. The subject of the special revelation is in the proper sense the Logos, the Malak Jhvh, the Christ. He is the mediator of creation, Joh. 1:3; Col. 1:15, but also of re-creation. Του γαρ δια της ἰδιας προνοιας και διακοσμησεως των ὁλων διδασκοντος περι του Πατρος, αὐτου ἠν και την αὐτην διδασκαλιαν ἀνανεωσαι, Athan. de incarn. c. 14. Cf. Iren. adv. haer. IV 6. He is the subject of revelation also already in the O. Test., the angel of the covenant, who led Israel, Ex. 14:19, 23:20, 32:34, 33:2; Jes. 63:8, 9, the content of prophecy Joh. 5:39; 1 Petr. 1:11; Apoc. 19:10. Through theophany, prophecy, and miracle he prepares his coming in the flesh. The O. Test. revelation is the history of the coming Christ. Theophany, prophecy, and miracle run out upon him. In Christ they fall together. He is the revelation, the word, the power of God. He shows us the Father, declares to us his name, accomplishes his work. The incarnation [270] is the conclusion, the goal and the end both of Israel’s history, and at the same time the center of all history. Bis hierher und von daher geht die Geschichte (Joh. von Müller). The incarnation is the Centralwunder; es ist das Wunder aller Wunder, da das Göttliche unmittelbar mit dem Menschlichen sich berührt, Ranke, Weltgeschichte VIII 72.

When the revelation of God in Christ, in his person and work, has appeared and has been described in Scripture, another dispensation enters in. The Holy Spirit came to dwell in the church; thereby the character of the times was changed. The αἰων οὑτος passed over into the αἰων μελλων. Just as in the first period everything was prepared for Christ, so now everything is derived from him. Then Christ was formed into the head of the church, now the church into the body of Christ. Then the Word, Holy Scripture, was completed, now it is being worked out. But yet this dispensation also takes a place in the system of revelation. The revelation has been continued, although modified according to the nature of the dispensation. The revelation, as intending and bringing forth the Christ, has reached its end. For Christ is there, his work is accomplished, and his word is completed. New, constitutive elements of the revelatio specialis can no longer be added. The question is therefore also of subordinate importance, whether in the Christian church the gift of prophecy and of miracles still continues. The testimonies of the church fathers are so numerous and powerful, that for the earliest times this question can hardly be answered in the negative, Thomas II 2 qu. 178. Voetius, Disp. II 1002 sq. Gerhard, Loci, loc. 22 sectio 11. Dr. C. Middleton, A free inquiry into the miraculous powers, which are supposed to have subsisted in the Christian Church, 3 ed. Lond. 1749. Tholuck, Ueber die wunder der Kath. Kirche, Verm. Schriften I 28-148. J. H. Newman, Two essays on scripture miracles and on ecclesiastical, 2 ed. Lond. 1870. H. Müller, Natur und Wunder, Strassb. 1892 S. 182. But even if those gifts have remained, the content of that revelatio specialis, which concentrates itself in Christ and has been laid down in Scripture, does not thereby become richer; and if, according to the thought of Augustine, de civ. 22, 8, de util. cred. 16, de vera relig. 25, they have diminished and ceased, that revelation does not thereby become poorer. However this may be, the revelatio specialis in Christ nevertheless continues in a certain sense in this dispensation. Even if all prophecy in the Christian church has ceased and every miracle in the proper sense is past, the church itself is from moment to moment product of the revelation. The spiritual miracles continue. The grace of God in Christ glorifies itself in illumination and regeneration, in faith and conversion, in sanctification and preservation. Christ is mediator; it is for the sake of the church that it concerns him; he came to renew the world and to recreate humanity after the image of God. The revelatio specialis finds its goal in bringing about a new order of affairs. And therefore it continues, in modified form, i.e. in a spiritual sense, even now. Its point of rest it finds only in the epiphany of Christ, in the new heaven and the new earth, in which righteousness dwells.

Revelation according to Scripture is therefore a historical process, an organic system, a continual divine action for the breaking of the power of sin, for the establishment of his kingdom, for the restoration of the cosmos, for ἀνακεφαλαιωσις των παντων ἐν Χριστῳ, Ef. 1:10. In the theophany God again sets himself as the only and true God over against the idols of man’s own adornment; in prophecy He places his thought as the truth over against the lie of Satan, and in the miracle He displays his divine power over against all works of unrighteousness. In revelation God posits and maintains his I over against all non-I, and brings it, in spite of all opposition, to general recognition and to complete triumph. Soteriological, therefore, is the whole of revelation. It proceeds from Christ, both in O. and in N. T. But soteriological then conceived in the sense of Scripture, not in a religious-ethical sense, as if revelation would contain only religious and ethical truth; still much less in an intellectual sense, as if revelation consisted only in doctrine. But soteriological in a scriptural sense, namely thus, that the content of revelation is not doctrine or life or emotion of the mind, but that it is all that together, a divine work, a world of thoughts and deeds, an ordo gratiae, which combats and conquers the ordo peccati on every terrain. The goal of revelation is not only to teach man and to enlighten his understanding (rationalism), to cause him to practise virtue (moralism), to cultivate religious emotions in him [272] (mysticism). But God’s purpose with his revelation extends much further and broader. It is none other than to withdraw man, humanity, the world from the power of sin, and to cause the Name of God to shine forth again in all creature. Sin has corrupted and destroyed everything, understanding and will, ethical and physical world. And therefore it is also the whole man and the entire cosmos, for whose salvation and restoration it is God’s concern with his revelation. Soteriological, therefore, very certainly is God’s revelation, but the object of that σωτηρια is the cosmos, and not only the ethical or the will with exclusion of the understanding and not the psychic alone with exclusion of the somatic and physical, but all together. For God has shut up all under sin in order that He might be merciful to all, Rom. 5:15 v., 11:32; Gal. 3:22.

C. Special revelation and Supranaturalism.

7. This organic conception of revelation has been misunderstood in the Christian church in a twofold way, both by supranaturalism and by naturalism (rationalism). Over against both it therefore needs to be set in a clearer light and maintained. First over against supranaturalism, which has arisen especially in Rome and then continues to have effects in various directions within Protestantism. Scripture does indeed know a distinction between the ordinary course of things and extraordinary works of God, but it still does not make the antithesis of natural and supernatural. This first occurs with the church fathers. Special revelation is identified with the supernatural and set over against the natural. Clemens Alex., Strom. 2, 2 already speaks of ὑπερφυης θεωρια, which one obtains through faith. Chrysostomus, Hom. 36 in Gen, calls the miracles ὑπερ φυσιν and φυσει μειζονα. Ambrosius, de mysteriis c. 9. sets gratia, miraculum, mysterium over against the ordo naturae. Johannes Damascenus speaks repeatedly of the miracles, such as the conception of Christ, the eucharist, etc. as ὑπερ φυσιν, ὑπερ λογον και ἐννοιαν, de fide orthod. IV 12-15. Cf. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der relig. Erk. I [273] 82 f. Since then the distinction of natural and supernatural has found acceptance and obtained citizenship in the whole of Christian theology. Without doubt this distinction also has a right to exist. Scripture may not make it in so many words; it nevertheless acknowledges an ordinary order of nature and alongside it deeds and works which have their cause only in the power of God. The revelation in Holy Scripture presupposes that there is yet another, higher and better world than this nature and that there is thus an ordo rerum is supra hanc naturam. The concepts of natural and supernatural therefore need to be clearly defined. Nature, from nasci, to be born, in general denotes that which, without foreign power or influence from outside, develops only according to its inward forces and laws. Nature then even stands over against art, education, culture, history, which do not arise of themselves, spontaneously, but come into being through human agency. But further the concept of nature is extended to the whole cosmos, insofar as this moves and develops not from outside but from within, through immanent forces and according to its own implanted laws. Supernatural is then everything that goes beyond the forces of the natura creata and does not have its cause in the creatures but in the omnipotence of God. In this sense special revelation was conceived in Christian theology. Taken as a whole, it had its origin in a special act of God, which had revealed itself not in the ordinary course of nature but in an order of affairs of its own, distinct from that. In addition, a further distinction was then made between the supernatural in an absolute sense, as something that goes beyond the power of all creatures, and the supernatural in a relative sense, as it surpasses the power of a particular cause in the given circumstances; and furthermore also between the supernaturale quoad substantiam, as the fact itself is supernatural, e.g. the raising of a dead person, and the supernaturale quoad modum, as only the manner of acting is supernatural, e.g. the healing of a sick person without means, Thomas, S. c. Gent. III 101. Even in these distinctions there lay in themselves as yet no danger. Indeed, they must be defended over against a philosophy which denies or weakens the supernatural. The expression supernatural is namely in later theology and [274] philosophy many times understood in a very altered sense, and alternately identified with the supersensible (Kant), the free (Fichte), the unknown (Spinoza, Wegscheider), the new and original (Schleiermacher), the religious-ethical, the spiritual (Saussaye), etc. But such an alteration of the fixed and clear meaning of a word leads to misunderstanding. If by supernatural one means nothing other than the supersensible, the ethical, etc., one does better to avoid the term. And the confusion becomes still greater when one mixes the natural and the supernatural together and then gives to this fusion the name of the Geistleibliche, God-human, etc. The concept of nature includes all that is created, not only matter, the material, but also soul and spirit; not only the physical but also the psychical, the religious and the ethical life, insofar as it arises of itself from human disposition; not only visible, but also invisible, supersensible things. The supernatural is not identical with the original, the genial, the free, the religious, the ethical, etc., but is the clear and fixed name only for that which cannot be explained from the forces and according to the laws of created things. Up to this point the distinction between natural and supernatural, which arose in Christian theology, is completely correct, definite, clear, cutting off all confusion. Subject to what was said above p. 230 f., special revelation, in its three forms of theophany, prophecy, and miracle, is supernatural in the strict sense.

But in Christian theology the concept of the supernatural was gradually delimited still more narrowly. On the one hand it was distinguished from creation and on the other hand from the spiritual miracles of regeneration etc. The first distinction was made because the supernatural exists not for God but only for us, and presupposes the ordinary order, called into being by creation. Of the supernatural one can speak only when nature already exists beforehand. And on the other hand regeneration, forgiveness, sanctification, unio mystica etc., were indeed regarded as direct acts of God, but were nevertheless not reckoned to the supernatural revelation, because they are not unusual and rare but in the church belong to the ordinary ordo rerum. The church itself is indeed [275] supranatural but nevertheless no miracle. The supernatural and the miracle are again distinguished. Not everything supernatural is a miracle, but the reverse is. Miracles are not only supernatural, but in addition also unusual and rare events in nature or grace. They occur not only praeter ordinem naturae alicujus particularis, but praeter ordinem totius naturae creatae. Angels and devils cannot in the proper sense perform miracles, but only such things as appear miraculous to us and occur praeter ordinem naturae creatae nobis notae, Thomas, S. Theol. I qu. 110 art. 4. S. c. Gent. I 6. III 112. Voetius, Disp. II. 973 sq. Thomas speaks not only of miracles praeter and supra, but also contra naturam, qu. de miraculis, art. 2 ad 3, Müller, Natur u. Wunder, Strassburg 1892 S. 145. And Voetius said that miracles indeed are not contra naturam universalem sed supra et praeter eam, but nevertheless could sometimes also be contra naturam aliquam particularem, Disp. II 973, cf. Gerhard, Loci Comm. Loc. 22 § 271 sq. And miracles thus had the following characteristics: opus immediatum Dei, supra omnem naturam, in sensus incurrens, rarum, ad confirmationem veritatis, Voetius, ib. II 965. Gerhard, ib. loc. 22 § 271. However much good there may now be in these determinations and distinctions made by scholasticism, they nevertheless brought with them no small danger. Special revelation was on the one hand detached from creation and nature; even though it was acknowledged that supernatural revelation had taken place not only now but already before the fall, Calovius, Isag. ad theol. p. 49, and thus in itself could not be in conflict with nature, yet this was not thought through. On the other hand special revelation was set over against the spiritual miracles, the works of grace, which continually take place in the church of Christ and thus was isolated from re-creation and grace. Special revelation thus came to stand entirely on its own, without connection with nature and history. Its historical and organic character was misunderstood. It did not enter into world and humanity, but remained floating outside and above it. It was finally conceived as a doctrine, as a proclamation of uncomprehended and incomprehensible mysteries, whose truth was confirmed by the miracles. It was and remained in one word a donum superadditum of the cosmos. [276]

8. In Rome this supranaturalistic and dualistic system has been consistently worked out. In God there are two conceptions of man, of his nature and destiny. Man in puris naturalibus, without the image of God, as he in fact still is after the fall, can have a pure knowledge of God from His works, can serve and fear Him and stand in a normal, in itself good, servant-relationship to Him, can practice all natural virtues, even also the natural love to God, and can thus bring it to a certain state of happiness in this and in the future life. If he does not bring it that far, then that is his own fault and this is to be attributed to the not or poor use of the natural powers bestowed upon him. But God still wants to give man a higher, supernatural, heavenly destiny. Then for that purpose He must grant to man dona superaddita both before and now after the fall. He must bestow upon him a supernatural grace, by which he can know and love God in another, better, higher way, can practice better and higher virtues, and can attain a higher destiny. That higher knowledge consists in the fides; that higher love in the caritas; those higher virtues are the theological, faith, hope, love, which are essentially distinguished from the virtutes cardinales (intellectuales et morales); and that higher destiny consists in the sonship of God, the birth from God, the unio mystica, the communion in the Divine nature, the θεωσις, deificatio, the visio Dei etc. This doctrine is already prepared in some statements of the church fathers, but was nevertheless first developed by scholasticism, especially by Halesius, Summa universae Theol. II qu. 91 m. 1. a. 3. Bonaventura, Breviloquium V cap. 1. Thomas disp. de verit. qu. 27. S. Theol. I 2. qu. 62 art. 1. In the struggle against Bajus and Jansenius it was ecclesiastically established, Denzinger, Enchir. symbol. et definit. num. 882 sq. and by the Vaticanum expressly pronounced, Sess. III cap. 2: revelatio absolute necessaria dicenda est, — — quia Deus infinita bonitate sua ordinavit hominem ad finem supernaturalem, ad participanda sc. bona divina. quae humanae mentis intelligentiam superant, with appeal to 1 Cor. 2:9. Cf. Canones II 3. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit, 2e Aufl. 1872 II S. 3-151. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der relig. Erk. I 105 f. II 75 f. Scheeben, Handb. der kath. Dogm. II 1878 S. [277] 240 f. Id. Natur u. Gnade Mainz 1861. Schäzler, Natur u. Gnade. Oswald, Religiöse Urgeschichte der Menschheit 2e Aufl. 1887 § 1 f.

Now it must be acknowledged that the distinction in the condition before and after the fall does not lie in revelation in itself. There was supernatural revelation also in paradise, Gen. 1:28 v.; 2:16 v.; it has therefore not first become necessary through sin. Indeed, even in the status integritatis there was also a revelation of grace, for even then the relation of love, in which God placed himself toward man, was a manifestation of unmerited goodness. What has thus been made necessary by sin is not revelation in itself, but the definite content of revelation, that is the gratia specialis, the revelation of God in Christ, the ἐνσαρκωσις του θεου. Revelation of God was needed also for religion in the status integritatis. But the religio christiana is grounded on a particular, definite revelation. Paul has this in view when in 1 Cor. 2 vs. 4-16 he speaks of the wisdom of God, which has always been hidden and has not ascended into the heart of man. Rome cannot really deny this itself, unless it were to accept the doctrine that, on the supposition that God wished to bestow upon man a finis supernaturalis, the whole supranatural order which now exists in the incarnation, the church, the sacraments, would also without and apart from sin have been necessary. Thereby, however, the soteriological character of revelation would be entirely lost, the fall would lose its significance, and sin would have brought about no change whatsoever. The doctrine of the finis supernaturalis has therefore in the Roman church always encountered much opposition, with Bajus, Jansenius, Hirscher, Hermes, Günther; but it is most closely connected with the whole Roman system, which is built not on the religious antithesis of sin and grace, but on the distinction of degree in the good, on the ranking of creatures and of virtues, on the hierarchy in a physical and in an ethical sense. The Reformation, however, had only one idea, one conception of man, namely that of bearer of the image of God, and this applied to all men. If that image in the narrower sense is lost, then thereby the whole human nature is damaged, and man can no longer have any religion and any ethos which correspond to the demand of God and to his own idea. Then his religion and his virtue, however beautiful [278] they may seem, are nevertheless corrupted at the root. There is no religio naturalis. All religions have become superstitions. But therefore the religio christiana is also essentially one with the religio vera in the status integritatis. The Reformed carried this so far that they said that Adam too had had the knowledge of the Trinity and faith, that even then the Logos had been mediator, not reconciliationis but unionis, that even then the H. Spirit was the author of all virtue and power, etc. The true thought lay in it, that the will of God is no arbitrariness, which alternately forms for itself now this and then that idea of man; that the conception of man, the nature of the image of God, and thus also the religio must be one. And from that it then finally followed that revelation was necessary not absolutely but relatively, not quoad substantiam but quoad modum. The religio is one before and after the fall; that, however, it is christiana, that has become necessary through sin. The religio christiana is a means, not an end; Christ is mediator, but the end is ὁ θεος τα παντα ἐν πασιν, 1 Cor. 15:28.

With that it is now further given that revelation cannot stand absolutely over against nature. With Rome there is a quantitative antithesis; the religio naturalis is essentially different from the religio supernaturalis; both stand alongside each other; they are two entirely different conceptions, two wholly distinct systems and orders; the ordo gratiae raises itself high above the orde naturae. But the Reformation has converted that quantitative antithesis into a qualitative one. Revelation stands not over against nature, but over against sin. That is the power which revelation seeks to break, but nature it restores and it completes. Creation itself is already revelation. Revelation existed before the fall. Revelation also still exists now in all the works of God’s hands in nature and history. His eternal power and divinity are understood and perceived from the creatures. Analogies of prophecy and miracle also exist outside the revelatio specialis. The inspiration of heroes and artists, the wondrous powers which sometimes come to light, can serve for elucidation and confirmation of the facts of revelation, mentioned in Scripture. Even the mantic and magic in the pagan religions are phenomena which, as caricature, still show resemblance to the original image in revelation. [279] Yes, this itself, as it were, reaches back into nature, attaches itself thereto, and prepares itself therein. The gratia communis points toward the gratia specialis, and this takes the former into service. Natura commendat gratiam, gratia emendat naturam. Even creation itself is built up on redemption lines, Orr, The christian view of God and the world, p. 323. See further my address on De algemeene Genade, Kampen 1894.

D. Special revelation and Naturalism.

9. The principled combating of revelation first began in modern philosophy. Spinoza still retains the word revelation and even deems it necessary, Tract. theol.-polit. cap. 15, 27, but by it he understands nothing else than that the simple cannot find the true religion, the word of God, by the light of reason, but must accept it on authority, ib. cap. 15, 44. cap. 4, 22-37. For the rest Spinoza recognizes no revelation in the proper sense; all decreta Dei are aeternae veritates and identical with the leges naturae, ib. cap. 4, 37; 3, 8; 6, 9, etc.; prophecy and miracle were subjected to a sharp criticism and explained in a natural way, ib. cap. 1-6. This criticism was continued by deism and rationalism. But rationalism can occur in different forms and changes each time in meaning, cf. Kant, Religion innerhalb usw. ed. Rosenkranz S. 185. Wegscheider, Instit. Theol. § 7 d. § 11-12. Bretschneider, Syst. Entw. aller in der Dogm. vork. Begriffe, § 34. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. S. 141 f. In the first place, by rationalism is designated that direction which indeed accepts a supernatural revelation, but entrusts the decision concerning the genuineness and the sense of that revelation to reason; to that belonged many Cartesian theologians, such as Roell, Wolzogen, G. W. Duker, and also Leibniz, Wolff e. a. Next, rationalism is the name for that opinion which indeed still deems a supernatural revelation possible, but only of such truths as reason sooner or later would also have been able to find. Revelation is then only temporarily and accidentally needed; it serves only as preparation and education for the general dominion [280] of the Vernunftreligion; it gives only more quickly and more easily what reason otherwise by a longer and more difficult way would have attained. Such is the concept of revelation in Lessing, Erziehung des Menschengeschlechts 1780, Fichte, Versuch einer Kritik aller Offenbarung 1792, and Kant, Religion usw. 1793. In the third place, as rationalism is known that theology which denies all supernatural revelation, but nevertheless assumes that God by special arrangements of his Providence has equipped persons and has paved ways that can bring humanity to a better and purer knowledge of religious truth. Of these Wegscheider is the principal representative, Instit. theol. I § 12 p. 58, and further Röhr, Henke, Gabler, Paulus, Gesenius, etc. And finally the name of rationalism is also given to that direction which since the middle of the 17th century was called naturalism, in England deism and also was called atheism, materialism, and which, denying all revelation, held the religio naturalis to be perfectly sufficient. To that belong Spinoza, Lud. Meyer, Voltaire, Rousseau, Reimarus, Nicolai, etc.

The arguments, advanced by this rationalism against revelation, come down to this: Revelation is in the first place impossible on the part of God, for it would imply that God was changeable, that his creation was imperfect and defective and therefore needed improvement; and that He himself, otherwise a Deus otiosus, then only worked when He works in an extraordinary manner. Further, revelation is also impossible on the part of the world, since science has more and more come to the discovery that this is always and everywhere governed by an unbreakable system of laws, which leaves no room for a supernatural intervention of God; science proceeds from this causal connection of things and cannot do otherwise; supranaturalism makes science impossible, puts arbitrariness in place of rule; in proportion as science has also advanced, all phenomena have lost their supranatural character; there even exists no right, against all experience, to hold a phenomenon to be supranatural; le surnaturel serait le surdivin. Subsequently, revelation, even if it had occurred, is nevertheless for the recipient himself and still more for those who live after him, unrecognizable and unprovable: [281] how is it ever to be decided that a prophecy or a miracle is from God, and not e.g. from the devil, originating? By what is a revelation recognizable for him who receives it and for those who live later? Such criteria are not to be indicated. They who accept a revelation therefore believe only on human authority, and in the highest and weightiest matters depend on men. Que d’hommes entre Dieu et moi! And finally, revelation conflicts with human reason; for whatever one may say, all revelation that is supra rationem is thereby also contra rationem, it thus suppresses reason and leads to fanaticism; but moreover, if the revelation communicates something that is supra rationem, then it can also never be taken up and assimilated and it always remains as an incomprehended mystery outside our consciousness; and if it communicates something that reason itself could have found, then it is unnecessary, at most gives only earlier and more easily what otherwise would nevertheless have been obtained, and unnecessarily deprives reason of its power and energy. Cf. Wegscheider, Instit. theol. § 10-12. Bretschneider, Handbuch der Dogm. 4e Aufl. I 188-329. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. 141 f. 165.

10. The revelation, which is set down in Holy Scripture, is a troublesome fact for everyone who denies it. For even he who combats its possibility and reality must nevertheless strive after an explanation of its historical origin. It has not arisen out of fraud, any more than religion. Faith in revelation is not something arbitrary or accidental, which occurs only here or there under special circumstances, but is essentially proper to all religion. The question of revelation is not so simple as rationalism sometimes imagined it. This is already immediately evident from the fact that all attempts, employed from the naturalistic side, to explain the biblical miracle-narratives in a natural way, have thus far suffered shipwreck. If revelation, in all its forms, of theophany, prophecy, and miracle, is not really supernatural but is only in that sense originating from God, as all activity of man has in Him its ultimate cause; then one is compelled to take refuge either in the so-called material or in the formal interpretation of the miracle-narratives. [282] That is, on the one hand one can leave the facts to a certain extent untouched and accept them as truth; one then seeks to explain these facts from the ignorance of the people concerning the natural causes and from the religious need to ascribe everything directly to God, Spinoza, Tract. theol. pol. cap. 1 en 6. Hase, Dogm. § 19. Leben Jesu § 15. Strauss, Glaub. I 280. Scholten, Supranat. in verband met Bijbel, Christ. en Prot. 1867, bl. 8 v.; or one explains them physically from unknown natural forces, Kant, Religion ed. Rosenkranz 101. Morus, Epitome Theol. Christ. p. 23. Schweizer, Glaub. der ev. ref. K. I 324 f.; or psychologically from a particular virtuosity, to sense the future in advance, Bretschneider, Dogm. I S. 300. Hase, Dogm. § 137, and to heal the sick without means, Weisse, Philos. Dogm. I S. 115. Ammon, Gesch. des Lebens Jesu 248; or teleologically from such arrangement and ordering of the physical and psychical forces lying in nature, that they bring about an unusual result and incite to recognition of God’s providence and to faith in the preacher, Wegscheider, Inst. Theol. § 48. Bretschneider, Dogm. I 314. Or on the other hand one can seek solution in the formal or genetic explanation, i.e. in a particular conception of the reports concerning the revelation; one then calls to aid the Oriental representation and clothing, and the accommodation of Jesus and the apostles to the popular conceptions, cf. Bretschneider, Syst. Entw. aller in der Dogm. vork. Begriffe, 4e Aufl. S. 135 f. Herzog2 art. Accomodation; or one seeks counsel with the allegorical, Woolston, Discourses on the miracles of our Saviour 1727; or with the natural, Paulus van Heidelberg, Philol.-krit. u. histor. Commentar über das N. T. 1800-1804. Leben Jesu 1828. Exeg. Handbuch über die 3 ersten Evang. 1830-33; or with the mythical, Eichhorn, Gabler, G. L. Bauer, Strauss, Leben Jesu 1835; or with the symbolic explanation, A. D. Loman, Gids Febr. 1884. Cf. Wegscheider, Instit. Theol. S. 214. Bretschneider, System. Entw. S. 248 f. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der relig. Erkenntniss II 156 f. 335 f. 405 f.

But all these explanations have had little success. Scripture simply cannot be interpreted in a naturalistic or rationalistic way. The facts of revelation themselves, which Scripture communicates to us, stand in the way of all such attempts. For although it is true that the revelation in Scripture, in form, has manifold agreement [283] with that to which other religions appeal, yet in principle it stands over against it; it makes between these and itself a definite distinction; it consciously and with complete assurance ascribes its origin solely to an extraordinary working of God. Scripture forbids all soothsaying and sorcery, Num. 19:16, 31, 20:6, 27; Deut. 18:10 v.; Jes. 8:9; Jer. 27:9; Hd. 8:9 v., 13:8 v., 19:13; Apoc. 21:8, 22:15. Prophets and apostles want nothing to do with that. They stand directly opposed to it and do not follow cunningly devised fables, 2 Petr. 1:16. Prophecy was formerly not brought forth by the will of a man, but the H. Spirit has driven the prophets, 2 Petr. 1:21; 1 Cor. 2:11, 12. The miracle is a σημειον of the presence of God. The clear self-consciousness which we encounter everywhere among the prophets, and the completely clear self-testimony which accompanies revelation everywhere in Scripture, offer an insurmountable stumbling block for the naturalistic explanation. Nor can the psychological method Strauss, Glaub. I 77. Kuenen, De profeten I 106 v., do justice to this self-consciousness and self-testimony of prophets and apostles, indeed of Christ himself. It may be gratefully acknowledged that the modern conception of revelation no longer thinks for a moment of holding the prophets and apostles to be intentional deceivers. But it still cannot escape the conclusion that all these men were poor deluded persons and, in good faith, erring, because they appealed to an alleged revelation and appeared with an imagined divine authority. For the issue is not as though revelation contains only certain facts, whose interpretation it leaves to our insight. But it itself casts a peculiar light upon those facts; it has, so to speak, concerning those facts its own view and its own theory. In the revelation of Scripture, word and fact, prophecy and miracle always go hand in hand. Both are necessary, in order that both consciousness and being may be re-created and the whole cosmos may be redeemed from sin. The light needs the reality and the reality needs the light, to produce — — the beautiful creation of His grace. To apply the kantian phraseology to a higher subject, without God’s acts the words would be empty, without His words the acts would be blind, Dr. Vos, The idea of biblical theology [284] as a science and as a theol. discipline, New-York, Randolph and Co. 1894 p. 15. See also Kuyper, Uit het Woord I 1873 bl. 69-160. Both, word and fact, are in revelation so intimately interwoven that the one cannot be accepted or rejected without the other. Every attempt to explain the facts of revelation naturalistically has therefore, up to now, always ended with the recognition that between the supranatural world-view of Scripture and that of the naturalists a deep chasm yawns and reconciliation is impossible. Professor Scholten provided a striking example of this. At first he still accepted the utterances of the Johannine Jesus as truth. Then he attempted to explain those utterances according to his altered insights, and to make exegesis serviceable to his heterodox dogmatics. And finally, in 1864, he openly acknowledged that the world-view of the fourth evangelist was different from his. Het Evangelie naar Johannes 1864 bl. III-VI. Every negative direction ultimately acknowledges that the revelation of Scripture is still conceived and represented most purely in orthodoxy. Radicalism leaves Scripture as it is and has done with revelation. Thereby the question is reduced to its deepest principle. The recognition or non-recognition of revelation is decided by our entire view of life and the world. Not historical criticism but self-criticism, not science but faith, not the head but the heart gives the decisive factor here. From the heart also proceeds the lack of understanding, Mk. 2:22. Our thinking is rooted in our being. Operari sequitur esse (Schopenhauer). Was für eine Philosophie man wähle, hängt davon ab, was für ein Mensch man ist. Unser Denksystem ist oft nur die Geschichte unseres Herzens (Fichte). That the recognition or non-recognition of revelation is in the last instance a question of faith is sufficiently proved by the fact that neither of the two, neither the supranatural nor the naturalistic conception, is able to remove all difficulties out of the way or to resolve all objections. The naturalistic view seems to be strong when it takes a few miracle narratives by themselves and isolates them from the whole; but that whole itself, the system of revelation and within it again the person of Christ, remain for it an insoluble riddle and a stone of stumbling. Conversely, the supranatural view has not yet succeeded in inserting all [285] particular facts and words of revelation into the order of the whole. But here there is nevertheless the agreement with revelation in its entirety, the insight into its system, the conception of its mighty harmony. If now the recognition of revelation were a philosophical proposition, it would be relatively of little weight. But a deep religious interest is involved with it. Religion itself is bound up with revelation. Whoever gives this up also loses religion, which is built upon it. The revelation of Scripture and the religion of Scripture stand and fall with one another.

11. The worldview which stands over against that of Scripture and in principle must combat all revelation, can best be designated by the name of monism. Monism, both in its pantheistic and in its materialistic form, strives to reduce all forces, substances, and laws that can be observed in nature to one single force, substance, and law. Materialism assumes only qualitatively identical atoms, which everywhere and always operate according to the same mechanical laws and by combination and separation cause all things and phenomena to come into being and to pass away. Pantheism likewise acknowledges nothing but one single substance, which is the same in all creatures and everywhere modifies and transforms itself according to the same logical laws. Both are animated by the same impulse, by the impulse and the longing for unity, which is proper to the human spirit. But while materialism seeks to find again the unity of substance and law, which prevails in the physical world, in all other, historical, psychical, religious, ethical, etc. phenomena and thus tries to make all sciences into natural science; pantheism attempts to explain all phenomena, also the physical, from the spirit and to convert all sciences into spiritual science. Both are naturalism, insofar as they perhaps still make room for the supersensible but in any case not for the supernatural, and for science and art, for religion and morality have enough with this cosmos, with the diesseits, Strauss, Der alte u. der neue Glaube, 2e Aufl. I 211 f. E. Haeckel, Der Monismus als Band zwischen Religion und Wissenschaft, 6e Aufl. Bonn 1893. Konrad Dieterich, Philosophie u. Naturwissenschaft, ihr neuestes Bündniss und die [286] monistische Weltanschauung, 2tes Ausg. Freiburg 1885. Dr. M. L. Stern, Philosophischer und naturwissenschaftlicher Monismus. T. Pesch, Die grossen Welträthsel, 2e Aufl. Herder, Freiburg II 8 f. Stöckl, Lehrbuch der Philos. II 1887 S. 117 f. Schanz, Apologie des Christ. I 1887 S. 249 f. The worldview of Scripture and of the whole of Christian theology is a wholly different one. It is not monism but theism, not naturalistic but supranatural. According to this theistic worldview there is a multiplicity of substances, of forces and substances and laws. It does not strive to erase the distinctions of God and world, spirit and matter, psychical and physical, ethical and religious etc. phenomena, but to discover the harmony which holds and binds all things together, and which is an outflow of the creative thought of God. Not sameness or uniformity, but unity in diversity is the goal of its striving. In spite of all pretensions of monism this theistic worldview has right and reason for existence. For monism has not succeeded in reducing all forces and substances and laws to one single one. Materialism runs up against the psychical phenomena (Du Bois Reymond, Die sieben Welträthsel), and pantheism cannot find the transition from thinking to being and does not know what to do with the multiplicity. Being itself is a mystery, a wonder. That something is, and whence it is, compels wonder from the thinking spirit, and this is therefore rightly called the beginning of philosophy. And the more that being is thought into, the more the wonder increases, for within the circle of being, of the cosmos we see different forces appear, in the mechanical, vegetative, animal, psychical world, and further in the religious and ethical, aesthetic and logical phenomena. Creation shows us an ascending order. The laws of the conservation of force, of causality and of continuity (natura non facit saltus) are indeed interpreted and misused in the service of monism. But nevertheless there appear time and again in nature forces which cannot be explained from the lower. Already in mechanical nature causality prevails only in a hypothetical sense. Like causes have like effects, but only under like circumstances. In the organic a force appears which does not originate from the inorganic [287]. Schon das Thier ist ein Wunder gegen die vegetabilische Natur und noch mehr der Geist gegen das Leben, gegen die bloss empfindende Natur, Hegel, Philos. der Rel., Werke XII 256. In the understanding, in the will, in religion, morality, art, science, law, history there are forces at work which essentially differ from the mechanical. The attempt to explain all these phenomena mechanically has thus far proved vain. The spiritual sciences have up to now retained their independent place. Dilthey, Einleitung in die Geisteswissenschaften I 1883 S. 5 f. Drummond, Das Naturgesetz in der Geisteswelt, Aus dem Engl. Leipzig 1886 S. 18 f. Although unwillingly, Prof. Land, Inleiding tot de Wijsb. 328 nevertheless must acknowledge that science for the time being is compelled to remain dualistic and even pluralistic.

Each of these forces works according to its own nature, according to its own law and in its own way. The forces differ and therefore also their operations and the way in which they work. The idea of a law of nature arose only gradually. Formerly one understood by lex naturae an ethical rule that was known by nature. Later this term was transferred to nature in a very improper sense, for no one has prescribed those laws to nature and no one is in a position to obey or to transgress them. Hence it is that there still prevails great difference concerning the concept and meaning of the laws of nature. Im 17ten Jahrhundert giebt Gott die Naturgesetze, in 18ten thut es die Natur selbst, und im 19ten besorgen es die einzelnen Naturforscher (Wundt). But so much is certain, that the so-called laws of nature themselves are no force that exercises dominion over the phenomena, but nothing other than a, often very defective and always fallible description of the way in which the forces lying in nature work. A law of nature says only that certain forces, under like circumstances, work in the same way, Ed. Zeller, Vorträge, IIIe Sammlung S. 194 f. Wundt, Philos. Studien III 195 f. IV 12 f. Hellwald, Culturgeschichte, 3e Aufl. I 32. Hartmann, Philos. des Unbewussten, 9e Aufl. II 96. Lotze, Mikrokosmos, 4e Aufl. I 31 f. II 50 f. III 13 f. Art. Naturgesetz in Herzog2. The regularity of the phenomena thus rests in the last instance on the unchangeableness of the different forces that work in nature and of [288] the last elements or substances of which it is composed. The laws differ, according as those elements and forces are distinct. The mechanical laws are different from the physical; the logical again different from the ethical and aesthetic. In a physical sense giving makes poorer, in an ethical sense it makes richer. The laws of nature, i.e. of the whole cosmos, of all creature, are therefore also no cordon around the things, so that nothing can penetrate or come out, but only a formula for the way in which, according to our observation, every force works according to its nature. All these elements and forces with the laws dwelling in them are, according to the theistic world-view, maintained from moment to moment by God, who is the last and highest, intelligent and free causality of all things. As creature they have no subsistence in themselves. It is God’s omnipresent and eternal power that maintains and governs everything. In Him, in his thought and in his government, lies the unity, the harmony, which holds together and connects all things in the richest diversity and leads them onward to one goal. Thereby there is unitas, mensura, ordo, numerus, modus, gradus, species in the creatures, as Augustine repeatedly says. Aliis dedit esse amplius, aliis minus, atque ita naturas essentiarum gradibus ordinavit, August. de civ. 12, 2. God is present in everything. In Him all things live and move and are. Nature and history are his work. He always works, Joh. 5:17. Everything reveals God to us. His finger may be more clearly to be noticed by us in the one event than in the other; the pure in heart sees God in all his works. Miracles are therefore absolutely not necessary in order to make us know God as sustainer and ruler of the universe. Everything is his deed. Nothing happens without his will. He is present with his being in all things. And therefore everything is also a revelation, a word, a work of God.

12. With such a worldview a supernatural revelation is absolutely not in conflict. For nature here does not exist for a single moment independently of God, but lives and moves in him. All power that appears in it is derived from Him and works according to the law that He has laid in it. God does not stand outside nature and is not shut off from it by an enclosure of laws, but is present in it and [289] bears it by the word of his power. He works from within, and can cause new powers to appear, which are distinct from the existing ones in nature and operation. And these higher powers do not nullify the lower, but nevertheless take a place of their own alongside and over against it. The human spirit strives at every moment to counteract the lower forces of nature in their operation and to rule over them. The whole of culture is a power by which man rules over nature. Art and science are a triumph of the spirit over matter. Likewise, in revelation, in prophecy and miracle, a new divine power appears, which indeed occupies a place of its own in the cosmos but absolutely does not conflict with the lower powers in their laws. There is no question of a so-called suspension of the laws of nature by the miracles. There is no Durchlöcherung of nature. Thomas already said: quando Deus agit aliquid contra cursum naturae, non tollitur totus ordo universi, sed cursus qui est unius rei ad aliam, de pot. qu. 6 art. 1, bij Müller, Natur und Wunder 133. Yes, even the ordo causae ad suum effectum is not nullified; although the fire in the furnace does not burn the three young men, in that fire there nevertheless remained the ordo ad comburendum. By the miracle no change is brought about in the powers that lie in nature, nor in the laws according to which they work. The only thing that happens in the miracle is that the operation of the powers present in nature is suspended at a particular point, because another power enters, which works according to a law of its own and produces an operation of its own. Science therefore has nothing to fear from the supranatural. But let every science remain in its domain and not arrogate to itself the right to prescribe the law to the other. It is the right and the duty of natural science, within its area, to seek the natural causes of the phenomena. But let it not rule over philosophy, when this investigates the origin and the destination of things. Let it also acknowledge the right and the independence of religion and theology, and not undermine the foundation on which these rest. For here religious motives for faith in a revelation come to expression, about which natural science as such cannot judge. Also with the various sciences the goal does not lie in uniformity but in [290] harmony. Let theology honor natural science, but itself lay claim to equal treatment. Let each science remain on its own terrain. The erasure of the boundaries has already caused far too much confusion. From that there has also arisen the assertion of Hume, Voltaire, Renan, that never yet has a miracle been sufficiently established, and that constant experience cannot be overthrown by a few testimonies. Renan, Vie de Jésus, p. LI says: nous ne disons pas, le miracle est impossible, nous disons, il n’ y a pas eu jusqu’ici de miracle constaté, and refuses to believe in a miracle, so long as not a commission of all kinds of scientific men, physiologists, chemists etc. has investigated such a fact and after repeated experimentation has established it as a miracle. With such a condition the miracle is judged a priori: for with the miracles of Scripture the opportunity for such an experiment is granted neither to Renan nor to any of us. The miracles belong once and for all to history; and in history a different method applies than in physics. Here the experiment is in its place. But in history we must make do with testimonies. If, however, in the historical domain the method of experiment must be introduced and applied, there is not a single fact that can withstand the test. Then it is the end of all history. Therefore let every science remain on its own terrain and investigate there according to its own nature. With the ear one cannot see, with the ell not weigh, and with the experiment one cannot test revelation, Vigouroux, Les livres saints et la critique rationaliste, 3e ed. 1890 I 73. II 294.

Furthermore, nature, the cosmos, is still far too much conceived as a machine, which is ready-made and is now driven by one force and always moves according to one law. Deism had this clumsy representation, but still it is unconsciously shared by many and serves in the combating of revelation. But nature, the cosmos, is not a piece of work that is finished and now possesses a certain independence; but it is φυσις, natura in the proper sense, it is always becoming, it finds itself in a continual teleological development, it is led in successive periods toward a divine destination. In such a conception of nature, again, miracles are completely in their place. Hellwald says on the last [291] page of his Kulturgeschichte, that all life on earth will once perish in the eternal rest of death and then ends with the comfortless words: Dann wird die Erde, ihrer Atmosphäre und Lebewelt beraubt, in mondgleicher Verödung um die Sonne kreisen, wie zuvor, das Menschengeschlecht aber, seine Kultur, sein Ringen und Streben, seine Schöpfungen und Ideale sind gewesen. Wozu? Naturally, in a system that ends with such an unanswered question, revelation and miracle would be nothing but an absurdity. But Scripture teaches us that revelation serves for this purpose, to recreate the creation, which was corrupted by sin, into a kingdom of God. Here revelation takes a completely proportionate and teleological place in the world-plan, which God has formed for himself and which He realizes in the course of the times. In that sense Augustine already said, portentum fit non contra naturam sed contra quam est nota natura, de civ. 21,8. c. Faustum 29,2. 26,3. The expression has many times been interpreted in a wrong sense in favor of a theology which tried to understand miracles as the working of a power which is by nature present in man or in nature, or also is restored in him by regeneration or faith. This peculiar conception already occurs in Philo and Neoplatonism, has then repeatedly found resonance with various Christian theologians, with Scotus Erigena, Paracelsus, Cornelius Agrippa, Böhme, Oetinger, cf. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der relig. Erk. II. 182 f. 361 f. and is now and then also found in the Vermittelungstheologie, Twesten, Vorles. I. 370 f. II. 171 f. Martensen, Dogm. § 16 f. Schleiermacher, Glaub. § 13,1 § 129. Sack, Apologetik S. 137 f. Lange, Philos. Dogm. § 64. Saussaye, mijne Theol. van Ch. d. l. S. 36 v. Gunning, Blikken in de openbaring II 37 v. Revelation, inspiration and miracle then belong to the original disposition of human nature. Indeed that disposition has been weakened by sin, but it nevertheless still comes to light in poetic and heroic inspiration, in magnetism and other related phenomena. Along an ethical path, through union with God, through ascetic purification, through regeneration etc., however, this disposition can be renewed and strengthened. All believers are thus actually inspired and can perform miracles. Si humana natura non peccaret eique, [292] qui eam condiderat, immutabiliter adhaereret, profecto omnipotens esset, Erigena, de div. nat. 4,9. Miracles are according to Zimmer, Ueber den allgem. Verfall des menschl. Geschlechts III n. 90 f., Zeichen des über die Herrschaft der Natur erhobenen Menschen, in welchem die Herrlichkeit des ersten Menschenpaares vor seiner Sünde dargestellt wird. When the soul is directed in love toward God, says Böhme, so mag sie Wunder machen, was sie will. In a related sense C. Bonnet, Recherches philosophiques sur les preuves du christianisme, Geneve 1771, had prophecy and miracle preformed beforehand in nature and brought about by the working of the ordinary forces of nature. Some theologians in the previous century therefore spoke of rationes seminales, primordiales and radicales of the miracles. But this attempt at explanation of miracles cannot be accepted. It confuses the natural with the supernatural, the supranatural with the religious-ethical and wipes out the boundaries between prophecy and mantics, miracle and magic, inspiration and illumination. Thus also the above-mentioned expression of Augustine may not be explained. By the natura nota he understands nature in our sense. And with a view to this he even says that the miracle is contra naturam, just as Thomas and Voetius later did (above p. 275). But that same miracle has now from the beginning been taken up by God into nature in a broader sense, i.e. into the destination of things determined by God, into the divine world-plan, F. Nitzsch, Augustinus’ Lehre vom Wunder, Berlin 1865. The same thought was later also expressed by Leibniz, Theodicée § 54. 207. God has from the beginning taken up the miracles into his world-plan and brings them about in his time; the miracles are not to be explained par les natures des choses créées, but des raisons d’un ordre supérieur à celui de la nature le portent à les faire. According to Leibniz, therefore, the miracles do not lie, like a germ, potentially enclosed in the forces of nature, as Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. S. 146 explains Leibniz, but are their constituting elements in the world-plan of God. Insofar the miracles very certainly belong to nature. They do not come in from outside into the existing cosmos, in order to disturb it, but they are taken up in the world-idea itself and serve for the restoration and perfection of fallen nature. Yes, even without sin there would have been place in the world for prophecy and miracle [293]. The supernatural did not first become necessary through the fall. Not revelation and miracle in themselves, only the soteriological character which both now bear, has been caused by sin. Insofar even the miracle is no foreign element that is added to the fallen creation. Revelation and religion, prophecy and miracle are in themselves no dona superaddita. They are completely natural, insofar as they belong to the world-idea of God and to the world-plan, which He in spite of all opposition brings to execution in time.

Nevertheless, revelation constitutes an order of affairs, which is distinct from the ordinary ordo naturae; a system of words and deeds of God, which itself is governed by one principle and appears before our eyes as an organic whole. Revelation is not ein einzelner Akt Gottes in der Zeit, isolated from the whole of nature, Strauss, Glaub. I 274, but is a world in itself, distinct from nature and yet adapted to it, related to it, destined for it. In this system of revelation, which begins with paradise and ends only in the parousia, much is still obscure and unexplained. Main lines can be drawn. In both the history of the prophecies and of the miracles there is order and progress to be discovered. Revelation too has its own laws and rules. It is the beautiful task of the historia revelationis, to trace these out, and to discover the system that lies hidden in its history. But there are still many facts, which in their proper significance for and connection with the whole are not yet discerned; still many words and deeds, which cannot be brought under any rule. This should not astonish and must least of all be exploited as a ground for unbelief. The philosophy of nature and of history is also far from finished with its work. It too stands at every moment before cruces, which it does not know how to explain. Yet for that reason no one doubts the unity of nature and the plan of history. Compared with these, revelation is even in a favorable case. Its main lines are fixed. As it begins in paradise and ends in the parousia, it forms a grand history, which spreads light over the whole of nature and history and therein, according to Augustine’s word, preserves the extraordinary by the ordinary from excess [294] and ennobles the ordinary by the extraordinary, bij Müller, Natur und Wunder 180. Without it we walk in darkness, we go to meet the eternal rest of death and we have no answer to the question, for what purpose everything has been. But with it we find ourselves in a world, which, in spite of all sinful power, is being led to meet restoration and perfection. Israel the preparation, Christ the center, the church the outworking, the parousia the crown — that is the cord, which binds the facts of revelation together.

Therefore faith in special revelation is in the end actually one with faith in another and better world than this one. If this world, with the powers and laws naturally indwelling in it, is the only and the best, then we must, of course, make do with this one as well. Then the leges naturae are equal to the decreta Dei, then this world is the Son, the Logos, the proper image of God, then in the ordo naturae, in which we live, there is already the full, adaequate revelation of God’s wisdom and power, of his goodness and holiness. What right is there then to expect that the There will nevertheless one day become Here, that the ideal will pass over into reality, that the good will triumph over the evil, and that the Welt der Werthe will once rule over the Welt der Wirklichkeit? Evolution does not bring us there. Nihil fit ex nihilo. Out of this world no paradise comes. What does not lie in it cannot proceed out of it. If there is no Jenseits, no God who stands above nature, no ordo supernaturalis, then to sin, to darkness, to death belongs the last word. The revelation of Scripture makes known to us another world of holiness and glory, which descends into this fallen world, not as doctrine only but also as divine δυναμις, as history, as reality, as a harmonious system of words and deeds together, and which lifts this world up out of its fall and out of the status peccati, through the status gratiae, and leads it onward into the status gloriae. Revelation is the coming of God to humanity in order to dwell with it eternally. Literature on the miracles besides those already mentioned: Köstlin, Jahrb. f. deutsche Wiss. 1864, 2tes Heft, S. 205-270 and art. Wunder in Herzog2. Nitzsch, Syst. der chr. Lehre § 34. Twesten, Vorles I. 366 f. Martensen, Dogm. § 16 f. Lange, Dogm. I 471 f. Rothe, Zur Dogm. 80 f. Gloatz, [295] Ueber das Wunder, Stud. u. Kr. 1886, 3tes Heft. Dorner, Glaub. I 569 f. 583 f. Philippi, Kirchl. Glaub. I 25 f. Saussaye, mijne Theol. 36 v. Oosterzee, Dogm. I 205 v. Kuyper, Uit het Woord II 69 v. III 114 v. Encycl. II 369 v. 446 v. Müller, Natur und Wunder, Strassburg, Herder 1892 and the literature cited there S. XV f., Gondal, Le miracle, Paris, Roger et Chernoviz 1894.

§ 11. Holy Scripture.

A. Revelation and Scripture.

1. The history of religions indicates not only an intimate connection between religion and revelation, but further also between revelation and Scripture. Magical formulas, liturgical texts, ritual treatises, ceremonial laws, priestly documents, historical and mythological literature, etc. occur in the religious sphere among all civilized peoples. But in an even narrower sense there is talk of holy Scriptures in the religions. Many peoples also have a book or a collection of books that possess divine authority and serve as a rule of doctrine and life. To these belong the Shu-king of the Chinese, the Veda of the Indians, the Tripitaka of the Buddhists, the Avesta of the Persians, the Koran of the Mohammedans, the Old Testament of the Jews, and the Bible of the Christians. Together these seven have been designated by Max Müller, Vorlesungen über den Ursprung der Religion 1880 S. 149 with the name of the book-religions. This phenomenon already indicates that revelation and Scripture cannot stand in an accidental, arbitrary connection. Indeed, the history of the doctrine of the Koran even offers remarkable parallels with that of the dogma of Scripture in the Christian church, M. Th. Houtsma, De strijd over het dogma in den Islâm tot op El-Ash’ari, Leiden 1875 bl. 96 v. See further on the holy books Ch. de la Saussaye, Lehrb. der Rel. Gesch. I 137 f. Lamers, Wetenschap v. d. godsd. II 249 v. Max Müller, Theosophy or psychological religion 1893. Lecture 2: The value of the sacred books.

Now in the first place thought and word, thinking and speaking, are most intimately related to one another. They are indeed not, as Max Müller, Vorlesungen über die Wissenschaft der Sprache I 3e Aufl. 1875 S. 459, Das Denken im Lichte der Sprache, Leipzig 1888 S. 70-115 thinks, identical; for there is also a thinking, a consciousness, an awareness, however unclear, without a word. Homo enim nihil potest dicere, quod non etiam sentire possit; potest etiam aliquid sentire, quod dicere non possit, Augustinus, Serm. 117, c. 5. But the word is nevertheless first the completed thought, the thought that has come to independence and to full maturity and therefore also the clear, lucid thought; an indispensable aid for conscious thinking. Language is the soul of the nation, the preserver of the goods and treasures of humanity, the bond of men and peoples and generations, the one great tradition, which makes the world of men, one in physis, also one in consciousness. But just as thought embodies itself in the word, so the word in turn in writing. Language too is nothing but an organism of signs, but of audible signs. And the audible sign naturally seeks stability in the visible sign, in writing. Writing is properly sign-art, and occurs in this broad sense among all peoples, but has gradually developed from sign- and picture-writing, through word- or concept-writing, into letter-writing. However refined and increased in accuracy, it is imperfect. Our thinking, says Augustinus, de trin. 7, 4, de doctr. christ. 1, 6 remains behind the thing, our thinking lags behind our speaking; and so too there is a great distance between word and writing. The sounds are always only approximately rendered in visible signs. Thinking is richer than speaking, and speaking richer than writing. But nevertheless writing is of great value and significance. Writing is the word made enduring, generalized, and aeternized. It makes the thought the property of those who are far from us and who are after us, the common good of humanity. It depicts the word and speaks to the eyes. It gives body and color to the thought. Writing is the ἐνσαρκωσις of the word.

That holds in general. The Traditionalists, de Bonald, Lamennais, Bautain certainly went too far, when they said that language was directly derived from God, that in language all the treasures of truth were preserved, and that man now became partaker of all [297] truth out of and through language, tradition, Stöckl, Lehrb. der neueren Philos. I 406 f. But there is nevertheless a good thought in it. And especially in the religious domain word and writing acquire a higher significance. Revelation in Christianity is a history. It consists in deeds, events, which pass by and soon belong to the past. It is an actus transiens, temporary, even momentary, and has this form of time, this perishable character, in common with all earthly things. And yet it contains eternal thoughts, which had significance not only for the moment in which it took place, and for the persons to whom it occurred, but which are of value for all times and for all men. How is this apparently contradictory to be united? For the strange character of it has been felt almost always. Deism in England called attention to it. Herbert of Cherbury expressed that only to such a revelation could faith be granted, which came to us ourselves immediately; revelations which others have received are for us only history, tradition, and in history we can never get further than to probability, de veritate 1656 p. 288, Lechler, Gesch. des engl. Deismus 49. Hobbes likewise said that a revelation which others had received could not be proved for us, Leviathan ch. 32. Locke made the same distinction between original and traditional revelation, Essay concerning human understanding IV ch. 18. Deism inferred from that that the religio naturalis was sufficient. It made a separation between fact and idea, the temporal and the eternal, zufällige Geschichtswahrheiten and nothwendige Vernunftwahrheiten. And the speculative rationalism of Hegel proceeded in the same track; the idea does not pour itself out in a single individual.

Now this separation has proved practically impossible. The detachment of the idea from history amounts in Christianity, as in every other religion, to nothing less than the loss of the idea itself. Lessing’s proposition in his writing Ueber den Beweis des Geistes und der Kraft: Zufällige Geschichtswahrheiten können der Beweis von nothwendigen Vernunftwahrheiten nie werden, at the time met with much approval. But that is only to be explained from the unhistorical sense and the deification of reason of the eighteenth century. The present century has unlearned the raving about the necessary truths of reason and the contempt for [298] history. It has learned to understand history in its deeper sense and in its eternal significance. If the facts of history were accidental, it itself would become an aggregate of events standing by themselves, without order, without coherence, without plan. Then there was no longer any history and its study an idle, useless occupation. And then it follows of itself that the history of revelation too loses all its value. But history is precisely the realization of God’s thoughts, the working out of a counsel of God concerning his creatures; there is unity, course, order, logos in it. And such a conception of history has first become possible through Christianity. Among Greeks and Romans it is not found; there were only peoples, there was no humanity. Scripture, however, teaches us to know the unity of the human race; it gives us the grand conception of a world history. And in this it itself takes the first and all-dominating place. The Geschichtswahrheiten are therefore not accidental, and least of all among these again the history of revelation. It is so necessary that without it the whole of history and the whole of humanity falls apart. It is the bearer of the thoughts of God; the apocalypse of God’s purpose, which again and again filled the apostle Paul with admiration and adoration; the revelatio mysterii, without which man gropes about in the dark. And on the other side the Vernunftwahrheiten of which Lessing spoke are also anything but necessary. Kant’s critique has demonstrated that otherwise. Precisely with respect to those nothwendige Vernunftwahrheiten there prevails at present generally a dubious scepticism. The relation is therefore precisely reversed. The historical has been seen through in its eternal significance and the rational has come to light in its changeableness.

The fact is, then, that we inherit everything from the forefathers. We bring nothing into the world, 1 Tim. 6:7. Physically and psychically, intellectually and ethically, we are dependent on the world around us. And religiously it is no different. The revelation, which exists in history, cannot come to us otherwise than by way of tradition, in the widest sense. A question why that revelation is not bestowed on every human being, Rousseau in his profession de foi, and Strauss, Glaub. I. 268 f., is really out of place. It presupposes that the revelation contains nothing else [299] than doctrine and forgets that it is and must be history. The center of revelation is the person of Christ. And Christ is a historical person; his incarnation, his suffering and dying, his resurrection and ascension are not susceptible of any repetition. Yes, it belongs precisely to the ἐνσαρκωσις, that he enter into history and live in the form of time. He would not have been like us in all things, if he had not subjected himself to time and space, to the law of becoming. Revelation, not as doctrine but as incarnation, of course cannot be otherwise than history, i.e. fall in a definite time and be bound to a definite place. The incarnation is the unity of being, ἐγω εἰμι, Joh. 8:58, and becoming, σαρξ ἐγενετο, Joh. 1:14. Moreover, also in revelation God follows the basic lines which He has drawn for the living-together of human beings. Humanity is not an aggregate of individuals, but an organic whole, in which all live from one another. Revelation follows this law, re-creation connects itself to creation. Just as we in every domain by means of tradition obtain a share in the goods of humanity, so also in religion. That too belongs to the idea of the incarnation. It itself is an actus transiens, but through tradition becomes the property and the blessing of all human beings. That, however, this revelation is still limited to such a small whole of human beings, presents a difficult problem, which later still needs to be investigated more closely; but this in itself moving fact can never for those who know it be a reason to reject it. Many peoples live in a state of crude barbarism. That too happens according to the will and the good pleasure of God. Yet it occurs to no one therefore to despise the blessings of civilization. Rousseau raved about the natural man, but he remained quiet in France.

2. The bearer of the ideal goods of humanity is language, and the σαρξ of language is writing. Here too God, in revelation, joins in. In order to enter fully into humanity and to be able to become wholly its property, revelation assumes the μορφη, the σχημα of Scripture. Scripture is the form of a servant of revelation. Yes, the central fact of revelation, viz. the incarnation, leads toward Scripture. In prophecy and miracle revelation descends so low [300] and sinks so deep, that it does not disdain even the lowest forms of the human, specifically of the religious life, as a means. The Logos himself becomes not ἀνθρωπος only, but δουλος, σαρξ. And likewise the word of revelation assumes the imperfect, defective form of writing. But only thus does revelation become the good of humanity. The goal of revelation is not Christ; Christ is center and means; the goal is that God again dwell in his creatures and in the cosmos reveal his glory. Θεος τα παντα ἐν πασιν. This too is in a certain sense an ἐνανθρωπησις του θεου, an incarnation of God. And in order to reach that goal, the word of revelation passes over into writing. Scripture too is therefore means and instrument, no goal. It flows forth from the incarnation of God in Christ, it is in a certain sense the continuation of it, the way along which Christ makes his dwelling in his church; the praeparatio viae ad plenam inhabitationem Dei. But in this indwelling of God it then also has its τελος, its end and goal, 1 Cor. 15:28. Like the whole of revelation, it too is an actus transiens.

As a result, the relation in which Scripture stands to revelation becomes clear. Earlier theology allowed revelation to be almost wholly absorbed into theopneusty, into the gift of Scripture. It mentioned revelation only in passing, and conceived it far too narrowly. It seemed as if there was nothing behind that Scripture. And Scripture came to stand entirely detached and isolated. It was not rooted in history. It had very much the appearance as if it had suddenly fallen down from heaven. The mighty conception of revelation as a history, which begins with the fall and ends only in the parousia, was almost wholly foreign to it. This view is untenable. For, in by far the most cases, revelation precedes theopneusty and is often separated from it by a long time. God’s revelation to the patriarchs, in the history of Israel, in the person of Christ was sometimes described only centuries and years thereafter; and the prophets and apostles also often set their revelations down in writing only a considerable time after receiving them, e.g. Jer. 25:13, 30:1, 36:2 v. Furthermore, many persons, such as Elijah, Elisha, Thomas, Nathanael, etc., were organs of revelation, who nevertheless never wrote a book that was included in the canon; [301] others, on the other hand, received no revelations and performed no miracles, and yet did indeed commit them to writing, as for example the writers of many historical books. Further, revelation took place in different forms, dream, vision, etc., and intended the making known of something that was hidden; theopneusty was always an operation of God’s Spirit in the consciousness and had as its goal the guarantee of the content of Scripture. The more recent theology therefore rightly made a distinction between revelation and Scripture. But it often fell into another extreme. It detached Scripture so wholly and entirely from revelation that this became nothing more than an accidental appendage, an arbitrary addition, a human document of revelation, which might perhaps still be useful but in any case was not necessary. In all kinds of variations this theme has been sung. Not the letter but the Spirit, not Scripture but the person of Christ, not the word but the fact is the principium of theology. And Lessing came to the well-known plea: o Luther! you great and holy man, you have delivered us from the yoke of the Pope, but who will deliver us from the yoke of the letter, from the paper Pope. This view is no less wrong and still more dangerous than the other. For revelation and theopneusty in many cases coincide entirely. Far from everything that is described in Scripture was previously revealed, but arose in the consciousness under the writing itself, e.g. in the psalms, the letters, etc. Whoever denies theopneusty and despises Scripture loses revelation also for a very great part; he retains nothing but human writings. Furthermore, revelation, even where it in fact or word preceded the description, is known to us solely and only through Holy Scripture. We know literally nothing of God’s revelations under Israel and in Christ, except only from Holy Scripture. There is no other principium. With Holy Scripture, therefore, the whole revelation falls, the person of Christ also falls. Precisely because revelation is history, there is no other way to know anything of it than the ordinary way in all history, that is, the testimony. The testimony decides for our consciousness concerning the reality of a fact. No communion with Christ except only through communion in the word of the apostles, Joh. 17:20, 21; 1 Joh. 1:3. Revelation exists for us, for the church of all centuries, only [302] in the form of Holy Scripture. And finally, theopneusty, as will appear later, is a property of the Scriptures, a proper and separate act of God in the production of Scripture, and thus in so far also itself to be recognized and honored as an act of revelation. Contempt or rejection of Scripture is therefore not an innocent act with respect to human testimonies concerning revelation, but denial of a special act of revelation of God, and thus in principle denial of all revelation.

Both directions are therefore one-sided, both that which fails to recognize revelation for the benefit of Scripture, and that which fails to recognize Scripture for the benefit of revelation. In the former case the φανερωσις, in the latter the θεοπνευστια, does not come into its own. There one has Scripture without writings; here one has writings without Scripture. There is a neglect of history there, here a contempt for the word. The first direction lapses into orthodox intellectualism, the second runs the danger of anabaptistic spiritualism. The correct view is this, that Scripture is neither identified with revelation nor detached from it and placed outside it. Theopneusty is an element in revelation; a final act, in which the revelation of God in Christ is, for this dispensation, brought to a close; in so far therefore the end, the crown, the perpetuation and the publication of revelation, medium, quo revelatio immediata mediata facta inque libros relata est, Baumgarten bij Twesten, Vorles. über die Dogm. I 402.

3. Revelation, then, taken as a whole, has reached its end and goal only in the parousia of Christ. But it falls apart into two great periods, into two distinct dispensations (above p. 270). The first dispensation extended to incorporate the full revelation of God into, and to make it a part of, the history of humanity. That whole economy can be regarded as a coming of God to his people, as a seeking of a tabernacle for Christ. It is thus predominantly a revelation of God in Christ. It bears an objective character. It is characterized by extraordinary acts; theophany, prophecy, and miracle are the ways along which God comes to his people. Christ is the subject of it. He is the Logos, who shines in the darkness, comes to his own, and becomes flesh in [303] Jesus. The Holy Spirit was not yet, because Christ had not yet been glorified. In this dispensation the committing to writing keeps pace with the revelation. Both grow from century to century. As the revelation advances, Scripture increases in extent. When in Christ the full revelation of God has been given, theophany, prophecy, and miracle in him have reached their climax, and the grace of God in Christ has appeared to all men, then at the same time the completion of Scripture is also there. Christ has in his person and work fully revealed the Father to us; therefore in Scripture that revelation is fully described to us. Revelation has in a certain sense reached its end. The dispensation of the Son makes way for the dispensation of the Spirit. The objective revelation passes over into the subjective appropriation. In Christ, in the midst of history, an organic center has been created by God; from there the circles are now drawn in ever wider circumference, within which the light of revelation shines. The sun, rising, covers only a small surface of the earth with its rays; standing in the zenith, it shines over the whole earth. Israel was only an instrument of revelation; it has performed its service and falls away, when it has brought forth the Christ, as far as the flesh is concerned; now the grace of God appears to all men. Revelation therefore does indeed continue, but in another way and in other forms. The Holy Spirit takes everything from Christ; he adds nothing new to the revelation. This is completed and therefore not susceptible of any increase. Christ is the Logos, full of grace and truth; his work is finished; the Father himself rests in his labor. His work cannot be supplemented or increased by the good works of the saints; his word not by tradition; his person not by the pope. In Christ God has fully revealed himself and fully bestowed himself. Therefore Scripture is also completed; it is the perfect word of God. And yet, though in another way, revelation continues, for it does not have its final goal in Christ, who is mediator, but in the new humanity, in the dwelling of God with his people. It continues in all its three forms of theophany, prophecy, and miracle. God comes to and dwells in the congregation of Christ; where two or three are gathered in his name, he is in the midst. He always continues to do miracles; he renews it by regeneration, [304] sanctification, and glorification; the spiritual miracles do not cease. God always works. But that is not enough. Not only the world of being, also that of consciousness must be renewed. In the Logos was the life but also the light of men; Christ is full of grace but also of truth; revelation consisted in miracle but also in prophecy. Word and deed went together in the first dispensation; they also accompany each other in the economy of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit regenerates but also illumines. But just as the spiritual miracles add no new element to the objective facts of revelation but are only effects of the miracle of God’s grace, wrought in Christ; so also prophecy in the congregation, the illumination of the Holy Spirit, is no revelation of hidden things but application of the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, which are comprehended in Christ and are displayed in his word. And both these activities of the Holy Spirit go hand in hand in this dispensation. Prophecy and miracle, word and fact, illumination and regeneration, Scripture and church accompany one another. Also now revelation is not doctrine alone, which illumines the understanding, but also a life, which renews the heart. It is both together in indissoluble unity. The one-sidednesses of intellectualism and mysticism are both to be avoided, for they are both a failure to recognize the richness of revelation. Because head and heart, the whole man in his being and consciousness, must be renewed, revelation in this dispensation continues in Scripture and in the church together. And both stand thereby in the closest connection to one another. Scripture is the light of the church, the church is the life of Scripture. Outside the church Scripture is a riddle, an offense. Without regeneration no one can know it. Whoever does not partake of its life cannot understand its sense and meaning. And conversely the life of the church is a hidden thing, if Scripture does not let its light shine upon it. Scripture explains the church, the church understands Scripture. In the church Scripture confirms and seals its revelation, and in Scripture the Christian, the church, learns to understand itself, in its relation to God and the world, in its past and present and future.

Therefore Scripture also does not stand by itself. It may not be conceived deistically. It is rooted in a history of centuries [305] and is the fruit of revelation under Israel and in Christ. But it is nevertheless not a book from long bygone times, which brings us into relation only with persons and events of the past. Holy Scripture is not a dull story and not an old chronicle, but it is the ever-living, eternally youthful word, which God now in this time and always causes to go forth to his people. It is the ever-continuing speech of God to us. It serves not only to make us know historically what has happened in the past. It does not even have the intention of providing us with a historical narrative according to the standard of fidelity that is demanded in other sciences. Holy Scripture is a tendenz-book; all that was written beforehand was written for our instruction, that we through patience and consolation of the Scriptures might have hope. Scripture was written by the Holy Spirit, in order that it might serve Him in his guidance of the church, in the perfecting of the saints, in the building up of the body of Christ. In it God comes daily to his people. In it He speaks to his children, not from afar, but from near. In it He reveals himself from day to day to the believers in the fullness of his grace and truth. Through it He works his wonders of compassion and faithfulness. Scripture is the abiding report between heaven and earth, between Christ and his congregation, between God and his children. It does not only fasten us to the past, it binds us to the living Lord in the heavens. It is the viva vox Dei, epistola Dei omnipotentis ad suam creaturam. Through the word God once created the world, through the word He maintains it; but through the word He also recreates it and prepares it for his dwelling. The theopneusty is therefore also an abiding property of Holy Scripture. It was not only theopneusted in the moment that it was set down in a book; it is theopneust. Divinitus inspirata est scriptura, non solum dum scripta est Deo spirante per scriptores; sed etiam dum legitur Deo spirante per scripturam et scriptura ipsum spirante, Bengel op 2 Tim. 3:16. Having proceeded from revelation, it is kept living and made efficax by the theopneusty. It is the Holy Spirit who maintains and connects with each other both prophecy and miracle, Scripture and church, and who thus prepares the parousia. For when being and consciousness both once [306] shall have been wholly renewed, then revelation has its end. Scripture is then no longer necessary. The theopneusty is then the portion of all the children of God. They shall all have been taught by the Lord and shall serve Him in his temple. Prophecy and miracle have become into nature, for God dwells among his people.

B. The doctrine of inspiration.

4. The authority of Holy Scripture has been acknowledged by all Christian churches. There is no dogma about which there is more unity than that of Holy Scripture. The genesis of this faith in Holy Scripture can no longer be traced. It exists, as far back as we go. In the O. T. the authority of Jahveh’s commandments and ordinances, i.e. of the thora and likewise of the prophets, is already established. Moses and the prophets have always been men of divine authority in Israel; their writings were immediately recognized as authoritative. The Jews have built upon that a doctrine of inspiration, as strict and exclusive as possible. The thora stands at the head in the Scripture of the O. T.; in its content it is identical with the divine Wisdom, the image of God, the daughter of God, the revelation of salvation sufficient in itself, destined for all peoples, the highest good, the way to life. If Israel had not sinned, it would have been sufficient. But now the writings of the prophets have later been added to it for explanation. All those writings are divine, holy, rule of doctrine and life, and with an infinite content. Nothing in it is superfluous; everything has meaning, every letter, every sign, down to the shape and form of a letter, for everything is derived from God. According to Philo, de migr. Abrahae, and Josephus, Ant. 4, 6, 5. c. Ap. 1,7 the prophets, at the inspiration, were in a state of rapture and unconsciousness, which they compared with the pagan mantics and also extended to others than the prophets, but the divine authority of Holy Scripture also stands immovably firm with them. Only, that authority was in fact again impaired by tradition. Scripture was namely insufficient in itself. According to the conception of the Jews there was also an oral tradition, which, originating from God, had been handed down by Moses, Aaron, the elders, the prophets, the men of the great synagogue to the scribes. It [307] was finally set down in the Mishna and Gemara, which now, as norma normata, has been added to the norma normans and, with the help especially of thirteen hermeneutical rules, was brought into agreement with Scripture, Zunz, Die gottesd. Vorträge der Juden 1832 S. 37 f. Weber, System der altsyn. pal. Theol. 1880. S. 14 f. 78 f. Schürer, Neutest. Zeitgeschichte, Leipzig, 1874. S. 437 f.

The Christian congregation now, together with Jesus and the apostles, did indeed reject the entire Jewish tradition, but nevertheless from the beginning acknowledged the divine authority of the O. T. Scripture, Harnack, Dogm. gesch. I 39 f. 145 f. 244 f. The congregation has never been without a Bible. It received the O. Test. from the hand of the apostles immediately with divine authority. The Christian faith from the beginning included within itself faith in the divine authority of the O. T. Clemens Romanus teaches the inspiration of the O. T. as clearly as possible. He calls the O. T. writings τα λογια του θεου, 1 Cor. 53, τας γραφας, τας ἀληθεις τας δια πνευματος του ἁγιου, ib. 45, adduces passages from the O. T. with the formula: the H. Spirit says, ib. 13 and says of the prophets: οἱ λειτουργοι της χαριτος του θεου δια πνευματος ἁγιου ἐλαλησαν ib. 8. He extends the inspiration also to the apostles, and says that they μετα πληροφοριας πνευματος ἁγιου went forth to preach, ib. 42, and that Paul wrote to the Corinthians πνευματικως ib. 47. For the rest, the apost. fathers supply little material for the dogma of Scripture: the inspiration itself stands firm, but about the extent and the limits of inspiration there is still difference; of the N. T. writings little is spoken, and apocryphal ones are sometimes cited as canonical. The Apologists of the 2nd century, Justinus, Coh. ad Graecos c. 8. and Athenagoras, Leg. pro Christo cap. 7. compare the writers to a cithara, lyre, or flute, of which the divine πληκτρον made use as of an organ. The doctrine of the apostles stands on one line with that of the prophets; just as Abraham, so we believe τῃ φωνῃ του θεου, τῃ δια τε των ἀποστολων του χριστου λαληθεισῃ παλιν και τῃ δια των προφητων κηρυχθεισῃ ἡμιν, Just. Dial. 119. The Gospels share in the same inspiration as the prophets, δια το τους παντας πνευματοφορους ἑνι πνευματι θεου λελαληκεναι, Theoph. ad Autol. 3 n. 12. With Irenaeus the full recognition is already present of the inspiration of both Testaments; [308] Scripturae perfectae sunt, quippe a Deo et Spiritu ejus dictae, adv. haer. 2, 28., they have one author and one purpose, 4, 9. And further the H. Scriptures are cited by the church fathers as θεια γραφη, κυριακαι γραφαι, θεοπνευστοι γραφαι, coelestes literae, divinae voces, bibliotheca sancta, chirographum Dei, etc. The writers are called λειτουργοι της χαριτος του θεου, ὀργανα θειας φωνης, στομα θεου, πνευματοφοροι, χριστοφοροι, ἐμπνευσθεντες, θεοφορουμενοι, Spiritu divino inundati, pleni etc. The act of inspiration is represented as a driving, leading, etc., but especially often as a dictating of the H. Spirit, Iren. 1. c. Aug. de cons. Evang. 1, 54; the writers were the hands of the H. S., Aug. ib., they were not the auctores, but only scriptores, scribae; auctor of the H. Scripture is God alone, Isidorus Hisp. lib. 1. de offic. c. 12, with Dausch, Die Schriftinspiration 1891 S. 87. Scripture is an epistola omnipotentis Dei ad suam creaturam, Aug. in Ps. 20. Serm. 2, 1. Greg. Magnus, Epist. 1. 4. ep. 31. There is nothing indifferent and nothing superfluous in it, but everything is full of divine wisdom; nihil enim vacuum, neque sine signo apud Deum, Iren. adv. haer. 4, 21, 3. Origenes in particular pressed this strongly and said that no tittle or iota was in vain, that there was nothing in Scripture, quod non a plenitudine divinae majestatis descendat, Homil. 2. 21. 39 in Jerem., and likewise Hieronymus, who said: singuli sermones, syllabae, apices, puncta in divinis scripturis plena sunt sensibus et spirant caelestia sacramenta. The H. Scripture was therefore without any defect, without any error, also in chronological, historical matters, Theoph. ad Autol. 23, Iren. adv. haer. 3, 5. What the apostles have written must likewise be accepted as if Christ himself had written it, for they were, as it were, his hands, Aug. de cons. Evang. 1, 54. In his letter to Hieronymus he says that he firmly believes that none of the canonical writers scribendo aliquid errasse. If therefore there is an error, non licet dicere: auctor hujus libri non tenuit veritatem sed: aut codex mendosus est, aut interpres erravit, aut tu non intelligis, c. Faust. 11, 5. But at the same time the self-consciousness of the writers in inspiration, over against Montanism, was accentuated as strongly as possible; prior investigation, distinction in development, use of sources and of memory, difference in language and style was by Iren. Orig. Euseb. [309] August. Hieron. etc. fully recognized; indeed by some a difference in the manner of inspiration between O. and N. T., or also a difference in degree of inspiration according to the moral condition of the writers, was assumed, Novatianus, de trin. 4. Orig. c. Cels. 7. 4. But all that did not detract from faith in the divine origin and the divine authority of the H. S. These were generally established. The practical use of Scripture in preaching, in proof, in exegetical treatment, etc. proves that still more and still more strongly than the statements standing by themselves. The church in this first period had more to do with the establishment of the canon than with the concept of inspiration, but understood by the canonical precisely divinae scripturae, Conc. Carth. 397 can. 47, and ascribed authority to these alone, Conc. Tolet. 447, cf. Denzinger, Enchir. symb. et defin. nr. 49. 125. Joh. Delitzsch, de inspir. scripturae s., quid statuerint patres apostolici et apologetae sec. saec. Lips. 1872. Hagenbach, Dogm. Gesch. § 31 f. Rudelbach, Zeits. f. d. ges. luth. Theol. u. Kirche 1840. W. Rohnert, Die Inspiration der H. S. u. ihre Bestreiter, Leipz. 1889 S. 85 f. P. Dausch, Die Schriftinspiration, eine bibl. geschichtl. Studie, Freiburg 1891. S. 45 f. Koelling, Die Lehre von der Theopneustie, Breslau 1891. 84 f. Cramer, Godgel. Bijdragen IV 49-121. Dr. W. Sanday, Inspiration, eight lectures on the early history and origin of the doctrine of biblical inspiration, Bampton lectures 1893.

5. The theology of the Middle Ages remained with the church fathers and did not further develop the doctrine of inspiration. Joh. Damasc., de fide orthod. 4, 17 only mentions Scripture in passing and says that law and prophets, evangelists and apostles, shepherds and teachers have spoken through the H. Geest; and therefore Scripture is theopneust. Erigena, de div. nat. I 66 sq. says that in all matters one must follow the authority of the H. S. because vera auctoritas rectae rationi non obsistit, but also omnis auctoritas, quae vera ratione non approbatur, infirma videtur esse. Thomas no more treats the doctrine of the H. Schrift than Lombardus does, but he nevertheless gives his thought about inspiration in his doctrine of prophecy, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 171 sq. Prophecy is specifically a gift of the intellect and consists first [310] in inspiratio, i.e. in an elevatio mentis ad percipienda divina, which takes place Spiritu Sancto movente, and second in revelatio, by which the divine things are known, darkness and ignorance are removed, and prophecy itself is completed, qu. 171 art. 1. More particularly, prophecy consists in the gift of the lumen propheticum, by which the divine things become visible, just as natural things do by the natural light of reason, ib. art. 2. But that revelation differs; sometimes it takes place through the mediation of the senses, sometimes by means of the power of imagination, sometimes also in a purely spiritual way, as with Solomon and the apostles, ib. qu. 173 art. 2. Prophecy per intellectualem visionem in general stands higher than that per imaginariam visionem; if, however, the lumen intellectuale does not reveal supernatural things, but only causes the naturally knowable things to be known and judged in a divine way, then such a prophetia intellectualis stands below that visio imaginaria which reveals supernatural truth. The writers of the hagiographa wrote repeatedly about matters that are naturally knowable, and then they spoke non quasi ex persona Dei, sed ex persona propria, cum adjutorio tamen divini luminis. Thomas thus recognizes different ways and degrees of inspiration. He also says, qu. 176 art. 1, that the apostles received the gift of tongues in order to be able to preach the gospel to all peoples, sed quantum ad quaedam quae superadduntur humana arte ad ornatum et elegantiam locutionis, apostolus instructus erat in propria lingua, non autem in aliena, and likewise the apostles were sufficiently equipped with knowledge for their office, but did not know everything that can be known, e.g. arithematica etc. But an error or untruth cannot occur in Scripture, S. Theol. I qu. 32 art. 4. II 2 qu. 110 art. 4 ad 3. The most extensive discussion of Scripture is by Bonaventura in the prooemium before his Breviloquium, ed. Freiburg 1881 p. 1-32: the H. Schrift has its origin not from human investigation, but from revelation of the Father through the Son in the H. Geest. No one can know it except through faith, for Christ is its content. It is cor Dei, os Dei (of the Father), lingua Dei (of the Son), calamus Dei (of the H. G.). Four things especially come into consideration with Scripture; its latitudo: it contains many parts, O. and N. T., different kinds [311] of books, legal, historical, prophetic etc.; its longitudo: it describes all times from creation up to the day of judgment in the three time periods of lex naturae, lex scripta and lex gratiae or in seven aetates; its sublimitas: it describes the different hierarchies, ecclesiastica, angelica, divina; its profunditas: it has a multiplicitas mysticarum intelligentiarum. However much the H. Schrift also uses different ways of speaking, it is always genuine, there is nothing untrue in it. For the H. Geest, ejus auctor perfectissimus nihil potuit dicere falsum, nihil superfluum, nihil diminutum. Therefore the reading and investigation of the H. S. is so urgently necessary; and for this purpose Bonaventura wrote his precious Breviloquium. Duns Scotus in the Prologus before his Sententiae does indeed adduce various grounds on which faith in the H. S. rests, such as prophecy, inner agreement, authenticity, miracles etc., but does not treat the doctrine of the H. S. And otherwise too we find little material for the dogma of Scripture in scholasticism. No need was felt for a special treatment of the locus de S. Scr., because its authority stood firm and no one contested it. It had in the Middle Ages, at least formally, an undisputed dominion. It was symbolically represented as the water of life, glorified in panegyrics, venerated and worshiped like the image of Christ, copied, illustrated, bound, and displayed in the most precious manner. It had a place of honor at the councils, was kept as a relic, worn around the neck as an amulet, buried together with the deceased, and used as a foundation for the taking of oaths. And it was also much more, than the Protestants later supposed, read, studied, explained and translated, Vigouroux, Les livres saints et la critique rationaliste, 3e ed. I 226 s. Janssen, Gesch. des deutschen Volkes, I 48 f. Herzog2 3, 545 f. There was no combating of Scripture. Nor does Abaelard, Sic et Non, ed. Henke et Lindenkohl, Marb. 1851 p. 10.11 say that prophets and apostles erred in writing, but only that they sometimes erred as persons, with appeal to Gregorius, who had also acknowledged that of Petrus; the gratia prophetiae was sometimes taken from them, so that they would remain humble and would acknowledge that they received and possessed that Spirit of God, qui mentiri vel falli nescit, only as a gift. And Agobard of Lyon [312] is no opponent of inspiration either; only, over against Fredegis of Tours, he advocates a more organic conception, which recognizes difference of language and style, grammatical deviations etc., Münscher-v. Coelln, Dogm. Gesch. II 1 S. 105. Ecclesiastically, the inspiration and authority of the H. Schrift were repeatedly expressed and recognized, Denzinger, Enchir. n. 296. 386. 367. 600.

6. The Council of Trent declared in sess. 4, that the truth is contained in the written books and unwritten traditions, which have been received from the mouth of Christ by the apostles or have been handed down by the same apostles, Spirito Sancto dictante, as from hand to hand and have come down to us; and that it therefore, after the example of the fathers, accepts and venerates all the books of O. and N. T., cum utriusque unus Deus sit auctor, and likewise the traditions ... tanquam vel oretenus a Christo, vel a Spiritu Sancto dictatas ... . Inspiration was here indeed extended to tradition, but nevertheless also clearly pronounced of Holy Scripture. But among the Roman theologians there soon arose great difference about the nature and the extent of inspiration. Both the auctor utriusque testamenti and the dictare were interpreted differently. The theologians of the 16th century were in general still devoted to the stricter direction of church fathers and scholastics. They were mostly adherents of Augustine in the doctrine of grace, Jansenists, Augustinians and Dominicans. The principal among this direction are Melchior Canus, Loci theol. 1563, Bannez, Comment. in primam partem D. Thomae Lugd. 1788. Bajus and Jansenius, Billuart, Summa S. Thomae tom. 2. Wirceb. 1758, Rabaudy, Exerc. de Scriptura sacra; in this century still Fernandez, diss. crit. theol. de verbali S. Bibl. inspiratione, but moreover also Jesuits, such as Tostatus, Costerus, Turrianus, Salmeron, Gregor de Valencia, De rebus fidei h. t. controv. Lugd. 1591 etc. These all teach a positive operation of God’s Spirit upon the writers, which also extended to the singula verba. But soon a laxer direction arose, and indeed among the Jesuits. In the year 1586 Lessius and Hamelius opened their lectures at the Jesuit college at Leuven, and defended there inter alia the propositions: 1o ut aliquis sit S. Scriptura, non est necessarium, singula ejus verba inspirata esse a Sp. So. 2o non est necessarium, [313] ut singulae veritates et sententiae sint immediate a Sp. So. ipsi scriptori inspiratae. 3o liber aliquis (qualis forte est secundus Machabaeorum) humana industria sine assistentia Sp. Si. scriptus, si Sp. Sus postea testetur, ibi nihil esse falsum, efficitur Scriptura sacra. Here verbal inspiration is rejected, immediate inspiration also of many matters, e.g. of history, which the writers knew, is deemed unnecessary, and even in the case of some books an inspiratio subsequens, so named later by Bonfrerius, or a posterior approbation of the H. G. is held to be sufficient. The faculties of Leuven and Douai condemned the propositions, but others in turn disapproved this censure, and the pope made no decision. The first two propositions found much acceptance, but the third went too far and was adopted only by few, inter alia by Bonfrerius, Frassenius, Richard Simon, Histoire critique du N. T. 1689 ch. 23, and in this century still by the bishop of Spiers, Haneberg, Gesch. der bibl. Offenbarung, 3e Aufl. 1863. Another direction is represented by Mariana, Tract. varii VIII, Ed. du Pin, Dissert. préliminaire tom. I Paris 1701. J. Jahn, Introductio in libros Vet. Test. 1814 and conceives inspiration as a purely negative assistance of the H. G., by which the writers were preserved from error. Both these directions held fast to the inerrancy of Holy Scripture, but identified this factual outcome with the divine origin of Scripture. In contrast, inerrancy in matters which were not in the narrower sense religious-ethical was surrendered and inspiration was limited to the properly dogmatic-ethical by Erasmus, on Mt. 2, Hd. 10, and Apologia adv. monachos quosdam Hispanos, Abbé Le Noir, Lenormant, Les origines de l’histoire d’après la Bible Paris 1880, de Broglie, Langen in Bonn, Rohling, Natur und Offenbarung 1872. Related to that is the representation of Holden, doctor of the Sorbonne, in his Divinae fidei analysis 1770 and Chrismann, Regula fidei catholicae, who assumed a proper inspiration for the truths of faith and morals but for the remaining content of Scripture taught only such an assistance as all believers enjoy. Of like purport is also the conception in the Roman Tübingen school, whose representatives Drey, Apologetik 1838 S. 204 f. Kuhn, Einl. in die Dogmatik 1859 S. 9 f. Schanz, Apol. des Christ. II 318 f. etc. [314] under the influence of Schleiermacher, brought inspiration into connection with the whole organism of revelation, and allowed it to extend in different degree to the different parts of Scripture. Most Roman theologians after the Reformation follow a middle way. On the one hand they reject the lax inspiration which would have consisted only in negative assistance or posterior approbation, for then all decisions of the councils, then everything true, would be called inspired. On the other hand they also deny the strict inspiratio verbalis, according to which all matters not only but even all singula verba are dictated and inspired, for many matters and words were known to the writers and therefore did not need to be inspired; the difference in language and style, the use of sources etc. also proves the incorrectness of verbal inspiration. An inspiratio realis is therefore enough, which is sometimes definite revelation, sometimes however assistance. This theory we find in Bellarminus, de Verbo Dei. I c. 14. cf. de Conc. II c. 12. XII c. 14. C. a Lapide on 2 Tim. 3:16. the Theologia Wirceburgensis, disp. 1 cap. 1. Marchini, de divinitate et canonicitate sacr. Bibl. Pars 1 art. 7. Liebermann, Instit. theol. ed. 8. 1857 I p. 385 sq. Perrone, Praelect. Theol. IX 1843 p. 66 sq. Heinrich, Dogm. I 382 f. Franzelin, Tractatus de div. Script. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit I 50. H. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der relig. Erk. II 108 f. F. Schmid, de inspirationis Bibl. vi et ratione. Jansen, Praelect. theol. I 767 sq. See further on these different theories of inspiration Perrone ib. IX 58 sq. Jansen, ib. 762 sq. P. Dansch, Die Schriftinspiration 1891. S. 145 f. The Vaticanum did indeed not propose a definite theory, but nevertheless decisively condemned that of the inspiratio subsequens and the mera assistentia, and declared, after having repeated the Tridentine decision, that the church recognizes those books as holy and canonical, not because they sola industria humana concinnati, sua (i.e. of the church) deinde autoritate sint approbati; nor also, because they revelationem sine errore contineant; but for the reason that they Spiritu Sancto inspirante conscripti Deum habent auctorem, atque ut tales ipsi ecclesiae traditi sunt. In can. 2, 4 the council calls the books once again divinitus inspiratos. In cap. 3 de fide it says, that fide divina et catholica ea omnia credenda sunt, quae in verbo Dei scripto vel tradito continentur. This decision leaves nothing [315] to be desired in clarity. The Roman church conceives inspiration as a positive operation of God’s Spirit and holds fast to the infallibility of Scripture. And the encyclical of Leo XIII de studiis Scripturae sacrae 18 Nov. 1893 is written in this same faith.

7. The Reformers accepted Scripture and its theopneustia, as it had been handed down to them by the church. Luther has now and then, from his soteriological standpoint, passed an unfavorable judgment on some books, Esther, Ezra, Neh., James, Jude, Rev., and conceded smaller inaccuracies, but yet on the other hand maintained inspiration in the strictest sense and extended it even to the letters. Bretschneider, Luther an unsere Zeit 1817. Schenkel, Das Wesen der Protest. II 56 f. Köstlin, Luthers Theologie II 246 f. W. Rohnert, Was lehrt L. von der Insp. der H. Schrift. Leipzig 1890. Fr. Pieper, Luthers doctrine of inspiration, Presbyt. and Ref. Rev. April 1893 p. 249-266. The Lutheran symbols have no separate article on Scripture, but presuppose its divine origin and authority everywhere, Conf. Aug. praef. 8. art. 7. Art. Smalc. II art. 2. 15. Form. Conc. Pars I Epit. de comp. regula atque norma 1. The Lutheran dogmaticians, Melanchthon in the praefatio before his loci, Chemniz, Examen Conc. Trid. Loc. 1. Gerhard, Loci Theol. loc. 1. etc. all have the same view. Not first Quenstedt and Calovius, but already Gerhard calls the writers Dei amanuenses, Christi manus et Spiritus Sancti tabelliones sive notarios, ib. loc. 1. cap. 2 § 18. Later ones only further developed and applied the principle, Heppe, Dogmatik des deutschen Prot. I. 207-257. Hase Hutt. Rediv. § 38 f. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. cap. 4. Rohnert, Die Inspiration der H. Schrift 169 f. Koelling, Die Lehre von der Theopneustie 1891. S. 212 f. Among the Reformed we encounter the same doctrine concerning Scripture. Zwingli often places the outward word behind the inward, concedes historical and chronological inaccuracies, and sometimes extends inspiration to pagan writers, Zeller, Das theol. System Zwingli’s 137 f. Chr. Sigwart, Ulr. Zwingli 45 f. But Calvin holds Scripture, in the full and literal sense, to be the word of God, Instit. I. c. 7-8, Comm. on 2 Tim. 3:16 and 2 Petr. 1:20; he does indeed not acknowledge the Epistle to the Hebrews as Pauline but nevertheless [316] as canonical, and assumes an error in Mt. 22:9, 23:25, but not in the autographa, Cramer, De Schriftbeschouwing van Calvijn. Heraut. no. 26 v. Moore, Calvins doctrine of holy Scripture, Presb. and Ref. Rev. Jan. 1893 p. 49 etc. The Reformed confessions mostly have an article on Holy Scripture and clearly express its divine authority, I Helv. 1-3. II Helv. 1. 2. 13. 18. Gall. 5. Belg. 3. Angl. 6. Scot. 18 etc.; and the Reformed theologians all without distinction adopt this same standpoint, Ursinus, Tract. theol. 1584 p. 1-33. Zanchius, Op. VIII col. 319-451. Junius, Theses Theol. cap. 2. Polanus, Synt. Theol. I 15. Synopsis, disp. 2. Voetius, Disp. Sel. I. 30 sq. etc. Cramer, De roomsch-kath. en oudprot. Schriftbeschouwing. Heraut no. 26 v. Heppe, Dogm. der ev. ref. K. S. 9 f. On a single occasion a weak attempt at a more organic view is to be perceived. Inspiration did not always consist in revelation, but, when it concerned known matters, in assistentia and directio; the writers were not always passive, but also active, so that they used their own understanding, memory, judgment, style, but in such a way that they were nevertheless led by the Holy Spirit and preserved from error, Synopsis 3:7. Rivetus, Isag. seu introd. generalis ad Script. V. et N. T. cap. 2. Heidegger, Corpus Theol. loc. 2. § 33. 34, but even thereby not the least detriment was done to the divinity and infallibility of Scripture. The writers were no auctores, but scriptores, amanuenses, notarii, manus, calami Dei. Inspiration was not negative but always positive, an impulsus ad scribendum and a suggestio rerum et verborum. It communicated not only unknown but also already known matters and words, for the writers then nevertheless had to know these precisely now and precisely thus, not only materialiter but also formaliter, not only humane but also divine, Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. 23, 24. Voetius, Disp. I 30. Inspiration extended to all chronol. histor. geogr. matters, to the words, even to vowels and signs. J. Buxtorf, Tract. de punctorum origine, autiquitate et auctoritate 1648. Anticritica 1653. Alsted, Praecognita Theol. p. 276. Polanus, Synt. Theol. I p. 75. Voetius, Disp. I 34. Cons. Helv. art. 2. Barbarisms and solecisms were not accepted in Holy Scripture. Difference of style was explained from the will of the Holy Spirit, who now and then wished to write otherwise, Quenstedt and Hollaz with Rohnert, Die Inspir. [317] der H. Schrift 205. 208. Winer, Grammatik des N. T. Sprachidioms, 6e Aufl. 11 f. Voetius ib. Gomarus, Op. 601. Materialiter, as regards letters, syllables, and words, Scripture is e sensu creaturarum, but formaliter, as regards the sensus θεοπνευστον, it is wrongly reckoned among creatures, since it is the mind, counsel, wisdom of God. Hollaz, Exam. ed. Teller p. 992, with Dausch 112. In 1714 Nitzsche in Gotha, according to Tholuck, Vermischte Schriften II 86, wrote a dissertation on the question whether Holy Scripture itself were God.

8. But when the theory of inspiration, as also among the Jews and the Mohammedans, had drawn its ultimate consequence, opposition arose from every side. Even in earlier times there was no lack of criticism of Scripture. Jehoiakim burned the scroll of Baruch, Jer. 36. Apion summarized all the accusations which were brought by the Heathen against the Jews concerning circumcision, the prohibition of swine’s flesh, the exodus from Egypt, the sojourn in the wilderness, etc. Josephus, contra Apionem, J. G. Muller, Des Flavius Josephus’ Schrift gegen den Apion 1877. The Gnostics, Manichaeans and the sects related to them in the Middle Ages tore the N. Test. loose from the Old, and ascribed this to a lower god, the demiurge. Especially Marcion in his Antitheses, and his disciples Apelles and Tatian, proceeding from the Pauline antithesis of righteousness and grace, law and gospel, works and faith, flesh and spirit, directed their attack against the anthropomorphisms, the contradictions, the immorality of the O. T., and said that a God who is wrathful, has regret, takes vengeance, is jealous, commands theft and lying, descends, gives a strict law etc. cannot be the true God. They also pointed with preference to the great difference between Christ, the true Messiah, and the Messiah, as the prophets expected him. Of the N. T. Marcion rejected all writings except those of Luke and Paul, and even corrupted these by abbreviation and interpolation, Tertullianus, adv. Marcionem. Epiphanius, Haer. 42. Irenaeus, adv. haer. passim. Harnack, Dogmengesch. I 226 f. Celsus continued this struggle in a keen-witted manner and delivered a sharp criticism of the first chapters of Genesis, the days of creation, the creation of man, the temptation, the [318] fall, the flood, the ark, the building of the tower of Babel, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and further of Jonah, Daniel, the supernatural birth of Jesus, baptism, the resurrection, the miracles, and accused Jesus and the apostles, for lack of a better explanation, of deceit. Porphyrius made a beginning with the historical criticism of the books of the Bible; he contested the allegorical exegesis of the O. T., ascribed the Pentateuch to Ezra, regarded Daniel as a product from the time of Antiochus, and also subjected many narratives in the Gospels to a sharp criticism. Julian later renewed all these attacks against Scripture once again in his Λογοι κατα χριστιανων. But with that the end of the criticism of that time was reached. Scripture came to general and undisputed dominion; criticism was forgotten. It revived in the Renaissance, but was then still for a time restrained by the Reformation and the Roman counter-reformation. Soon it rose again, in rationalism, deism and French philosophy. At first it directed itself more against the content of Scripture in the rational eighteenth century; thereafter more against the authenticity of the writings in the historically inclined nineteenth century. Porphyrius replaces Celsus, Renan follows after Voltaire, Paulus of Heidelberg makes way for Strauss and Baur. But the result always remains the same, Scripture is a book full of error and falsehood.

As a result of this criticism many have modified the doctrine of inspiration. At first inspiration is indeed still maintained as a supernatural operation of the H. G. in the writing, but limited to the religious-ethical; in the chronological, historical, etc., it is weakened or denied, so that greater or smaller errors can occur here. The Word of God is to be distinguished from Holy Scripture. Thus the Socinians already taught. The writers of O. and N. T. have indeed written divino spiritu impulsi eoque dictante, but the O. T. has only historical value, only the doctrine is immediately inspired, in the rest a leviter errare is possible, Fock, Der Socin. 326 f. The Remonstrants adopted the same standpoint. They acknowledge inspiration, Conf. art. 1, but admit that the writers have sometimes expressed themselves less exacte et praecise, Limborch, Theol. Christ. I c. 4 § 10, or sometimes also have erred in the circumstantiae fidei, Episcopius, Instit. Theol. IV 1 cap. 4, [319] or more strongly still, that in the historical books they needed no inspiration nor received it, H. Grotius, Votum pro pace ecclesiae, Clericus, in Dr. Cramer, De geschied. van het leerstuk der inspiratie in de laatste twee eeuwen 1887, bl. 24. The same doctrine concerning inspiration we then find with S. J. Baumgarten, J. G. Töllner, Semler, Michaelis, Reinhard, Dogm. § 19. Vinke, Theol. Christ. Dogm. Comp. 1853 p. 53-57. Egeling, Weg der Zaligheid, 3e dr. II 612, etc. But this theory nevertheless ran up against many objections. The separation between what is necessary for salvation and the incidental historical is impossible, because doctrine and history in Scripture are wholly interwoven. It does injustice to the consciousness of the writers, who by no means limit their authority to the religious-ethical but extend it to the entire content of their writings. It is in conflict with the use of Scripture by Jesus, the apostles, and the whole Christian church. This dualistic conception therefore made way for another, the dynamic one of Schleiermacher, Christ. Gl. § 128-132. It consists in this, that the theopneusty is transferred from the intellectual to the ethical domain. Inspiration is not in the first place a property of Scripture but of the writers. These were born again, holy men; they lived in the proximity of Jesus, underwent his influence, moved in the holy circle of revelation and were thus renewed, also in their thinking and speaking. Inspiration is the habitual property of the writers. Here their writings also share; they too bear a new, holy character. But this inspiration of the writers is therefore not essentially, but only gradually distinguished from that of all believers, for all believers are led by the H. Spirit. It also may not be conceived mechanically, as if it was only now and then and with some subjects the portion of the writers. God’s Word is not mechanically contained in Scripture like the painting in the frame, but it penetrates and animates all parts of Scripture, as the soul all the members of the body. However, not all parts of Scripture partake of this inspiration, this word of God, in equal measure; the closer something lies to the center of revelation, the more it also breathes the Spirit of God. Scripture is therefore at the same time a divine and a human book, on the one hand containing the highest truth and yet at the same time weak, fallible, imperfect; not revelation itself but the document [320] of revelation; not the word of God itself but description of that word; defective in many respects but nevertheless a sufficient instrument for us, in order to arrive at an infallible knowledge of revelation. Finally, it is also not Scripture, but the person of Christ or in general revelation that is the principium of theology. Naturally this theory of inspiration allows very many modifications; the theopneusty can be placed in a more or less intimate connection with revelation, the operation of the H. Spirit can be conceived more or less positively, the possibility of error can be conceded more or less far. But the basic thoughts nevertheless remain the same; inspiration is in the first place a property of the writers and thereafter of their writings, it is not a momentary act or a special gift of the H. Spirit but a habitual property, it works so dynamically that the possibility of error is not excluded in all parts. This theory has almost entirely replaced the old doctrine of inspiration. There are only few theologians any more who have not in the main adopted it. See Rothe, Zur Dogm. 121 f. Twesten, Vorles. I 401 f. Dorner, Glaub. I 620 f. Lange, Dogm. I § 76 f. Tholuck, art. Inspir. in Herzog1. Cremer, id. in Herzog2. Hofmann, Weiss. u. Erf. I 25 f. Id. Schriftbeweis, 2e Aufl. I 670 f. III 98 f. Beck, Vorles. über christl. Glaub. I 424-530, Einleitung in das System der christl. Lehre, 2e Aufl. § 82 f. Kahnis, Luth. Dogm. I 254-301. Frank, Syst. der chr. Gewissheit II 57 f. Id. Syst. der chr. Wahrheit, 2e Aufl. II. 409 f. Gess, Die Inspiration der Helden der Bibel und der Schriften der Bibel, Basel 1892. W. Volck, Zur Lehre von der H. Schrift, Dorpat 1885. Grau, Bew. d. Glaubens Juni 1890, S. 225 f. Zöckler, Bew. d. Gl. April 1892 S. 150 f. Kähler, Wiss. der chr. Lehre, 1884, S. 388 f. Kübel, Ueber den Unterscheid zw. der posit. u. der liber. Richtung in der mod. Theol. 2e Aufl. S. 216 f. Pareau et H. de Groot, Comp. dogm. et apol. Christ. 1848 p. 200 sq. H. de Groot, De Gron. Godgel. 1855 bl. 59 v. Saussaye, mijne Theol. van Ch. d. l. S. 49-61. Roozemeyer, Stemmen v. W. en Vr. Juli 1891. Dr. Is. van Dijk, Verkeerd Bijbelgebruik 1891. Daubanton, De theopneustie der H. Schrift 1882. Oosterzee, Dogmatiek § 35 v. Id. Theopneustie 1882. Doedes, Leer der zaligheid § 1-9. Id. De Ned. Geloofsbel. bl. 11-36. R. F. Horton, Inspiration and the Bible 4 ed. London [321] 1889. C. Gore, Lux mundi, 13 ed. London 1892, p. 247. Farrar and others, Inspiration, a clerical symposium, 2 ed. Londen 1888. W. Gladden, Who wrote the Bible, Boston, Houghton 1891. C. A. Briggs, Inspiration and inerrancy, with papers upon biblical scholarship and inspiration by L. J. Evans and H. P. Smiths, and an introduction by A. B. Bruce, London 1891. J. de Witt, Inspiration 1893 etc. Ritschl and his school may also be mentioned here, insofar as this, over against the theology of consciousness, lays emphasis on the objective revelation in Christ and in connection therewith also seeks to value Scripture, A. Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. II2 9 f. W. Herrmann, Die Bedeutung der Inspirationslehre für die ev. Kirche, Halle 1882. Kaftan, Wesen der christl. Rel. 1881 S. 307 f. Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. 212-252. E. Haupt, Die Bedeutung der H. Schrift für den evang. Christen, Gütersloh 1891 etc. But this theory satisfies neither the congregation nor also the so-called science. The critical objections against Scripture do not concern the periphery but the center itself of revelation. Therefore others have gone still further and have denied all inspiration as a supernatural operation of God’s Spirit. The Bible is an accidental collection of human writings, even if written by men with a deep religious disposition and arising among a people that may preeminently be called the people of religion. Of revelation and inspiration there is then only still in a figurative sense mention. At most a special guidance of God’s general providence in the origin and the collection of those writings is to be noted. Inspiration is only gradually different from the religious animation in which all the pious share, Spinoza, Tract. theol. polit. cap. 12. Wegscheider, Instit. theol. § 13. Strauss, Glaub. I 136 f. Schweizer, Glaub. I 43 f. 179 f. Biedermann, Dogm. § 179-208. Pfleiderer, Grundriss § 39 f. Lipsius, Dogm. § 179 f. Scholten, L. H. K. I 78 v. Yet it is remarkable that all these men still continue to acknowledge to a certain extent the religious value of Scripture. They see in it not only a source for the knowledge of Israel and of early Christianity, but also still try to maintain it as a means of grace for the cultivation of the religious-ethical life, cf. Bruining, Theol. Tijdschr. Nov. 1894 bl. 587 v. Insofar they distinguish themselves favorably [322] from all radicals, who have completely settled accounts with Scripture, have shaken off all piety for it, and have nothing but mockery and contempt left for it. Of this, in the first centuries Celsus and Lucian were the spokesmen; toward the end of the Middle Ages the blasphemy of the tres impostores found acceptance; in the 18th century expression was given to this hatred against Christianity by Voltaire, who from 1760 on had no other name for Christianity than l’infâme and since 1764 mostly signed his letters with écrasez l’infâme; and in this century this hostility against Christ and his word has still increased and expanded.

Over against all these more or less negative directions, the inspiration of Scripture in a positive and full sense is still in this century acknowledged and defended, apart from Roman Catholic theologians, by I. da Costa, On the divine inspiration of the H. S., published by Ds. Eggestein, Rott. Bredée 1884. Dr. A. Kuyper, Scripture the word of God, Tiel 1870. Id. The contemporary Scripture criticism, Amst. 1881. Toorenenbergen, Contributions to the explanation, testing and development of the doctrine of the Herv. Church, 1865, bl. 9 v. L. Gaussen, Theopneustie ou inspiration plénaire des S. Ecritures 1840. Id. Le Canon des S. Ecr. 1860. J. H. Merle d’Aubigné, L’autorité des Ecritures 1850. A. de Gasparin, Les écoles du doute et l’école de la foi 1853. Philippi, Kirchl. Glaub. 3e Aufl. 1883 I 125 f. Vilmar, Dogm. herausgeg. von Piderit, Gütersloh 1874 I 91 f. W. Rohnert, Die Inspiration der H. Schrift u. ihre Bestreiter, Leipzig 1889. Koelling, Die Lehre von der Theopneustie, Breslau 1891. Henderson, Divine Inspiration 1836. Rob. Haldane, The verbal inspiration of the old and new test. Edinb. 1830. Th. H. Horne, An introduction to the critical study and knowledge of the holy scriptures, 2e ed. London 1821 4 vol. vol. I. Eleazar Lord, The plenary inspiration of the holy Scripture, New-York 1858, ’9. W. Lee, The inspiration of holy Scripture, its nature and proof. 3e ed. Dublin 1864. Hodge, System. Theol. I 151. Shedd, Dogm. Theol. I 61 B. Warfield, The real problem of inspiration, Presb. and Ref. Rev. Apr. 1893 p. 177-221. W. E. Gladstone, The impregnable rock of holy Scripture, 2 ed. London 1892. [323]

C. Inspiration according to Scripture.

9. The Old Testament supplies for the doctrine of inspiration the following important moments: a) the prophets know themselves, at a definite moment of their life, to have been called by the Lord, Exod. 3; 1 Sam. 3; Isa. 6; Jer. 1; Ezek. 1-3; Am. 3:7, 8, 7:15. The calling often went against their own wish and desire, Ex. 3; Jer. 20:7; Am. 3:8, but Jahveh has been too strong for them. The conviction in Israel was general, that the prophets were messengers of God, Jer. 26:5, 7:15, raised up and sent by Him, Jer. 29:15; Deut. 18:15; Num. 11:29; 2 Chron. 36:15, his servants, 2 Kings 17:23, 21:10, 24:2; Ezra 9:11; Ps. 105:15 etc., standing before his face, 1 Kings 17:1; 2 Kings 3:14, 5:16. b) They are conscious that Jahveh has spoken to them, and that they have received the revelation from Him. He teaches them what they shall speak, Ex. 2:12; Deut. 18:18, puts the words in their mouth, Num. 22:38, 23:5; Deut. 18:18, speaks to them, Hos. 1:2; Hab. 2:1; Zech. 1:9, 13, 2:2, 7, 4:1, 4, 11, 5:5, 10, 6:4; Num. 12:2, 8; 2 Sam. 23:2; 1 Kings 22:28. Especially the formula is used: thus says the Lord, or: the word of the Lord came to me, or: word, oracle, נאם part. pass, the spoken word of Jahveh. The whole Old Test. Scripture is full of this expression. Time and again the prophetic discourse is introduced by it. Jahveh is even repeatedly introduced as speaking in the first person, Josh. 24:2; Isa. 1:1, 2, 8:1, 11; Jer. 1 vss. 2, 4, 11, 2:1, 7:1; Ezek. 1:3, 2:1; Hos. 1:1; Joel 1:1; Am. 2:1 etc. Properly it is Jahveh who speaks through them, 2 Sam. 23:1, 2, who speaks through their mouth, Ex. 4:12, 15; Num. 23:5, through their service, Hag. 1:1; 2 Kings 17:13. Their whole word is covered by the authority of Jahveh. c) This consciousness is in the prophets so clear and firm, that they even indicate the place and the time where Jahveh spoke to them and make a distinction between times in which He did and in which He did not speak to them, Isa. 16:13, 14; Jer. 3:6, 13:3, 26:1, 27:1; 28:1, 33:1, 34:1, 35:1, 36:1, 49:34; Ezek. 3:16, 8:1, 12:8; Hag. 1:1; Zech. 1:1 etc. And with that, this consciousness is so objective, that they clearly distinguish themselves from Jahveh; [324] He speaks to them, Isa. 8:1, 51:16, 59:21; Jer. 1:9, 3:6, 5:14; Ez. 3:26 etc., and they listen with their ears and see with their eyes, Isa. 5:9, 6:8, 21:3, 10, 22:14, 28:22; Jer. 23:18, 49:14; Ezek. 2:8, 3:10, 17, 33:7, 40:4, 44:5; Hab. 3:2, 16; 2 Sam. 7:27; Job 33:16, 36:10, and take the words of Jahveh into themselves, Jer. 15:16; Ezek. 3:1-3. d) Hence they make a sharp contrast between what God has revealed to them and what arises out of their own heart, Num. 16:28, 24:13; 1 Kings 12:33; Neh. 6:8; Ps. 41:6, 7. They lay it to the charge of the false prophets precisely that these speak out of their own heart, Ezek. 13:2, 3, 17; Jer. 14:14, 23:16, 26; Isa. 59:13, without being sent, Jer. 14:14, 29:9; Ezek. 13:6, so that they are lying prophets, Jer. 23:32; Isa. 9:14; Jer. 14:14, 20:6, 23:21, 22, 26, 31, 36, 27:14; Ezek. 13:6 v.; Mic. 2:11; Zeph. 3:4; Zech. 10:2 and diviners, Isa. 3:2; Mic. 3:5 v. Zech. 10:2; Jer. 27:9, 29:8; Ezek. 13:9, 12, 21:26, 28, 34; Isa. 44:25. König II 163-167. Herzog2 16, 726. e) The prophets are finally conscious, speaking or writing, of proclaiming not their own word but the word of the Lord. Besides, the word was not revealed to them for themselves, but for others. They had no freedom to conceal it. They must speak, Jer. 20:7, 9; Exod. 3, 4; Ezek. 3; Amos 3:8; Jonah, and therefore do not speak according to human favor or calculation, Isa. 56:10; Mic. 3:5, 11. Therefore they are precisely prophets, speakers in Jahveh’s name and of his word. And with that they then know that they must give all that they have received, Deut. 4:2, 12:32; Jer. 1:7, 17, 26:2, 42:4; Ezek. 3:10. And from the same impulse the writing of the prophets may and must also be derived. The literal texts where a command to write is given are few, Ex. 17:14, 24:3, 4, 34:27; Num. 33:2; Deut. 4:2, 12:32, 31:19; Isa. 8:1, 30:8; Jer. 25:13, 30:1, 36:2, 24, 27-32; Ezek. 24:1; Dan. 12:4; Hab. 2:2 and refer only to a very small portion of the O. T. Scripture. But the written recording is indeed a later, but nevertheless necessary stage in the history of prophetism. Many prophecies were certainly never spoken but were indeed intended to be read and pondered. Most are worked with care, even with art, and already by their form show [325] that they are intended for writing. The recording of the oracles was guided by the thought that Israel was no longer to be saved by deeds, that now and in far generations the service of Jahveh had to find entrance by word and reasonable conviction, Kuenen, Prof. I 74, II 345 v. They went to writing because they wished to address others than only those who could hear them. f) Between the received and the spoken or written word there is difference. There would be nothing degrading for the prophets in it, if they had recorded the received word as literally as possible. But the revelation continued also in the moment of theopneusty and modified and completed the earlier revelation, and this was thus freely reproduced. But precisely for that reason the prophets claim for their written word the same authority as for the spoken word. Even the interposed remarks of the prophets between the actual words of Jahveh, e.g. Isa. 6, 10:24-12:6, 31:1-3, 32, or the elaboration of a word of Jahveh by the prophet, 52:7-12, 63:15-64:12, make no exception to that. The transition from the word of Jahveh into the word of the prophet and conversely is often so sudden, and both are so interwoven e.g. Jer. 13:18 v., that separation is not possible. They have the same authority, Jer. 36:10, 11, 25:3. Isaiah in 34:16 calls his own recorded prophecies the Book of Jahveh. g) The prophets do not derive their revelation from the law. Although from their writings the extent of the thora cannot be determined, yet prophecy presupposes a thora. All prophets stand on the foundation of a law, they place themselves with their opponents on a common basis. They all presuppose a covenant concluded by God with Israel, a gracious election of Israel, Hos. 1:1-3, 6:7, 8:3; Jerem. 11:6 v., 14:21, 22:9, 31:31 v.; Ezek. 16:8 v.; Isa. 54:10, 56:4, 6, 59:21. The prophets have not been the creators of a new religion, of an ethical monotheism, Kuenen, Prof. II 335 v. The relation of Jahveh to Israel was never like that of Chemosh to Moab, Kuenen, Godsd. van Israel I 222. The prophets never speak of such an opposition between their religion and that of the people. They acknowledge that the people through almost all centuries have made themselves guilty of idolatry; but they always and uniformly regard that as unfaithfulness and apostasy, they proceed from the fact that the people knew better. They connect themselves with the people to the same revelation, to the same history. They speak from the conviction that they with the people have the same service of God in common, that Jahveh has chosen and called them to his service. Therein they find their strength, and therefore they test the people by the relationship existing by right between them and Jahveh, Hos. 12:14; Mic. 6:4, 8; Isa. 63:11; Jer. 7:25 etc., König, Die Hauptprobleme der altisr. Religionsgeschichte 1884 S. 15 f. 38 f. The thora denotes not only instruction of God in general, but is often also the name for the already existing, objective revelation of Jahveh, Isa. 2:3; Mic. 4:2; Am. 2:4; Hos. 8:1, 4:6; Jer. 18:18; Ezek. 7:26; Zeph. 3:4. The covenant of God with Israel, on whose foundation the prophets stand with the whole people, naturally also includes all kinds of statutes and rights, and the prophets therefore repeatedly speak of commandments, Isa. 48:18; Jer. 8:13, statutes Isa. 24:5; Jer. 44:10, 23; Ezek. 5:6, 7, 11:12, 20, 18:9, 17, 20:11 v., 36:27, 37:24; Am. 2:4; Zech. 1:6; Mal. 3:7, 4:4; rights, Ezek. 5:7, 11:12 etc. This thora must have contained the doctrine of the unity of Jahveh, of his creation and government of all things, the prohibition of idolatry, and other religious and moral commandments, and further also all kinds of ceremonial (sabbath, sacrifice, purity etc.) and historical (creation, exodus from Egypt, covenant-making etc.) components. Concerning the extent of the thora before prophetism there may be difference, the relation of law and prophets cannot be reversed without coming into conflict with the whole history of Israel and the essence of prophetism. The prophet in Israel was, as it were, die lebendige Stimme des Gesetzes und der Vermittler seiner Erfüllung (Staudenmaier). The most negative criticism sees itself compelled to accept the personality of Moses and his monotheism, the sojourn in Egypt, the exodus, the conquest of Canaan etc. still as historical, although with their criticism of the Pentateuch all ground for that is lacking, cf. e.g. Smend, Lehrb. der altt. Rel. S. 13 f. h) It is a priori probable that with a people, already so long acquainted with the art of writing, Herzog2 13, 689 f. the law will also already long have existed in written form. In Hos. 8:12 this seems also to be expressed, Bredenkamp, Gesetz und Proph. 21 f. König, Der Offenbarungsbegriff II 333 f. [327] This thora had from the beginning authority in Israel. Of doubt or contestation nothing is known. Moses occupied among all prophets an entirely unique place, Ex. 33:11; Num. 12:6-8; Deut. 18:18; Ps. 103:7, 106:23; Isa. 63:11; Jer. 15:1 etc. He stood to Jahveh in a special relation; the Lord spoke with him as a friend with his friend. He was the Mediator of the O. Testament. Everywhere the law ascribes to itself a divine origin. It is Jahveh who through Moses has given the thora to Israel. Not only the ten words Ex. 20 and the Book of the Covenant Ex. 21-23; but also all other laws are derived from a speaking of God to Moses. At every moment in the laws of the Pentateuch the formula occurs: the Lord said or spoke to Moses. Almost every chapter begins with it, Ex. 25:1, 30:11, 17, 22, 31:1, 32:9 etc.; Lev. 1:1, 4:1, 6:1 etc.; Num. 1:1, 2:1, 3:44, 4:1 etc. And Deuteronomy wishes to give nothing but what Moses spoke to the children of Israel, Deut. 1:6, 2:1, 2, 17, 3:2, 5:2, 6:1 etc. i) The historical books of the O. T. are all written by prophets and in a prophetic spirit, 1 Chron. 29:29; 2 Chron. 9:29, 20:34 etc. The prophets in their speeches and writings not only refer repeatedly to Israel’s history, but they are also the ones who have preserved, edited, and delivered it to us. But they by no means intend thereby to provide us with a faithful and connected narrative of the fortunes of the Israelite people, as other historians aim at. The prophets also in the historical books of the O. T. place themselves on the foundation of the thora and consider and describe from its standpoint the history of Israel, Judg. 2:6-3:6; 2 Kings 17:7-23, 34-41. The historical books are the commentary in facts of the covenant of God with Israel. They are not history in our sense but prophecy, and wish to be judged by another standard than the history books of the other peoples. It is not their concern that we should obtain accurate knowledge of Israel’s history, but that we should understand in the history of Israel the revelation of God, his thought and his counsel. The prophets are always proclaimers of the word of Jahveh, both where they look backward into history and when they look forward into the future. j) As regards finally the poetic books in the narrower sense, which are included in the [328] canon, these all, like the other O. T. writings, bear a religious-ethical character. They presuppose the revelation of God as their objective foundation and show the effect and application of that revelation in the different states and relations of human life. Ecclesiastes sketches the vanity of the world without and over against the fear of the Lord. Job occupies itself with the problem of the righteousness of God and the suffering of the pious. Proverbs depict for us true wisdom in its application to rich human life. The Song of Songs sings of the intimacy and the power of love. And the Psalms show us, in the mirror of the experiences of the pious of God, manifold grace. Lyric and didactic poetry enters in Israel into the service of the revelation of God. According to 2 Sam. 23:1-3 David, the sweet in songs of Israel, spoke by the Spirit of Jahveh and his word was on his tongue. k) In proportion as the various writings of the O. T. arose and became known, they were also recognized as authoritative. The laws of Jahveh were laid in the sanctuary, Ex. 25:22, 38:21, 40:20; Deut. 31:9, 26; Josh. 24:25 v.; 1 Sam. 10:25. The poetic productions were preserved, Deut. 31:19; Josh. 10:13; 2 Sam. 1:18; the Psalms were already early collected for the benefit of the cultus, Ps. 72:20; of the Proverbs the men of Hezekiah already made a second collection, Prov. 25:1. The prophecies were much read, Ezekiel knows Isaiah and Jeremiah, later prophets appeal to the preceding. Daniel, cap. 9:2 already knows a collection of prophetic writings, to which Jeremiah also belonged. In the post-exilic community the authority of law and prophecies stands firm, as clearly appears from Ezra, Haggai and Zechariah. Jesus ben Sirach sets law and prophets very high, cap. 15:1-8, 24:23, 39:1 v.; cap. 44-49. In the preface his grandson makes mention of three parts into which Scripture is divided. The LXX contains various apocryphal writings, but these themselves testify to the authority of the canonical books, 1 Macc. 2:50; 2 Macc. 6:23; Wisd. 11:1, 18:4; Baruch 2:28; Tob. 1:6, 14:7; Jesus Sir. 1:5, 17:12, 24:23, 39:1, 46:15, 48:25 etc. Philo cites only canonical books. The fourth book of Ezra cap. 14:18-47 knows the division into 24 books. Josephus, c. Ap. 1, 8, counts 22 books in three parts. Omnium consensu was [329] the Old Testament canon of Philo and Josephus like ours, G. Wildeboer, Het ontstaan van den Kanon des O. V. 1889 bl. 126 v. 134. Strack in Herzog2 7, 429.

10. This canon of the Old Testament possessed, for Jesus and the apostles, as well as for their contemporaries, divine authority. This is clearly evident from the following data: a) the formula with which the O. T. is cited in the N. is different, but always proves that the O. T. for the writers of the N. T. is of divine origin and bears a divine authority. Jesus sometimes cites a passage from the O. T. with the name of the writer, e.g. of Moses, Mt. 8:4, 19:8; Mk. 7:10; Joh. 5:45, 7:22; Isaiah, Mt. 15:7; Mk. 13:14; David, Mt. 22:43; Daniel, Mt. 24:15, but he also very often cites with the formula: it is written, Mt. 4:4 v., 11:10; Luk. 10 vs. 26; Joh. 6:45, 8:47, or: Scripture says, Mt. 21:42; Luk. 4:21; Joh. 7:38, 10:35, or also according to the auctor primarius, i.e. God or the H. Spirit, Mt. 15:4, 22:43, 45, 24:15; Mk. 12:26. The Evangelists often employ the expression: that which was spoken by the prophet, Mt. 1:22, 2:15, 17, 23, 3:3 etc. or by the Lord or by the H. Spirit, Mt. 1 vs. 22, 2:15; Luk. 1:70; Hd. 1:16, 3:18, 4:25, 28:25. John usually cites with the auctor secundarius, cap. 1:23, 46, 12:38. Paul always speaks of Scripture, Rom. 4:3, 9:17, 10:11, 11:2; Gal. 4:30; 1 Tim. 5:18 etc., which is sometimes even presented entirely personally, Gal. 3:8, 22, 4:30; Rom. 9:17. The Epistle to the Hebrews most often names God or the H. Spirit as auctor primarius, 1:5 v., 3:7, 4:3, 5, 5:6, 7:21, 8:5, 8, 10:16, 30, 12:26, 13:5. This manner of citing teaches clearly and distinctly that the Scripture of the O. V. for Jesus and the apostles, though composed of different parts and originating from different writers, nevertheless formed one organic whole, which had God himself as author. b) More than once this divine authority of the O. T. Scripture is also decisively expressed and taught by Jesus and the apostles, Mt. 5:17; Luk. 16:17, 29; Joh. 10:35; Rom. 15:4; 1 Petr. 1:10-12; 2 Petr. 1:19, 21; 2 Tim. 3:16. Scripture is a unity, which can be broken and destroyed neither in its entirety nor in its parts. In the last-cited text [330] the translation: every theopneuste Scripture is also useful, is pressed by the objection that then after ὠφελιμος the predicate ἐστιν could not have been lacking, Hofmann, Weiss. u. Erf. I 43. The translation: every writing, quite in general, is theopneust and useful, is excluded by the nature of the case. Thus there remains only a choice between the two translations: the whole Scripture, or: every Scripture, namely that which is included in τα ἱερα γραμματα, vs. 15, is theopneust. In substance this yields no difference, and with a view to passages such as Mt. 2:3; Hd. 2:36; 2 Cor. 12 vs. 12; Ef. 1:8, 2:21, 3:15; Col. 4:12; 1 Petr. 1:15; Jak. 1:2 πας without the article nevertheless also seems indeed to be able to mean the whole. c) Never do Jesus or the apostles stand critically over against the content of the O. T., but they accept it wholly and without reservation. In all parts, not only in the religious-ethical utterances or in those places in which God himself speaks, but also in its historical constituents, the Scripture of the O. T. is unconditionally recognized by them as true and divine. Jesus holds, e.g., Isa. 54 to be originating from Isaiah, Mt. 13:14, Ps. 110 from David, Mt. 22:43, the prophecy cited in Mt. 24:15 from Daniel, and ascribes the law to Moses, Joh. 5:46. The historical narratives of the O. T. are repeatedly cited and unconditionally believed, e.g. the creation of man, Mt. 19:4, 5; Abel’s murder, Mt. 22 vs. 35; the flood, Mt. 24:37-39; the history of the patriarchs, Mt. 22:32, Joh. 8:56; the destruction of Sodom, Mt. 11:23, Luk. 17:28-33; the burning bush, Luk. 20:37; the serpent in the wilderness, Joh. 3:14; the manna, Joh. 6:32; the history of Elijah, Luk. 4:25, 26; Naaman, ib., Jonah, Mt. 12:39-41 etc. d) Dogmatically the O. T. is for Jesus and the apostles sedes doctrinae, fons solutionum, πασης ἀντιλογιας περας. The O. T. is fulfilled in the New. It is more than once presented as though everything has happened with the purpose of fulfilling Holy Scripture, ἱνα πληρωθῃ το ρηθεν, Mt. 1:22 and passim, Mk. 14:49, 15:28; Luk. 4:2, 24:44; Joh. 13:18, 17:12, 19:24, 36; Hd. 1:16; Jak. 2:23 etc. Down to small details that fulfillment is observed, Mt. 21:16; Luk. 4:21, 22:37; Joh. 15:25, 17:12, 19:28 etc.; all that happened to Jesus was previously described in the O. T., Luk. 18:31-33. Jesus and the apostles justify [331] their conduct and prove their doctrine repeatedly with an appeal to the O. Test., Mt. 12:3, 22:32; Joh. 10:34; Rom. 4; Gal. 3; 1 Cor. 15 etc. And this divine authority of Scripture extends so far for them that even a single word, indeed a tittle and iota, is thereby covered, Math. 5:17, 22:45; Luk. 16:17; Joh. 10:35; Gal. 3:16. e) Nevertheless the O. T. in the N. T. is generally cited according to the Greek translation of the LXX. The writers of the N. T., writing in Greek and for Greek readers, commonly used the translation that was known to these and accessible for them. The citations can be divided into three groups according to their relation to the Hebr. text and to the Greek translation. In some texts there is deviation from the LXX and agreement with the Hebr. text, e.g. Mt. 2:15, 18, 8:17, 12:18-21, 27:46; Joh. 19:37; Rom. 10:15, 16, 11:9; 1 Cor. 3:19, 15:54. In others there is conversely agreement with the LXX and deviation from the Hebr., e.g. Mt. 15:8, 9; Hd. 7:14, 15:16, 17; Ef. 4:8; Hebr. 10:5, 11:21, 12:6. In a third group of citations there is more or less important deviation from both LXX and Hebr. text, e.g. Mt. 2:6, 3:3, 26:31; Joh. 12:15, 13:18; Rom. 10:6-9; 1 Cor. 2:9. It also deserves remark that some books of the O. T., namely Ezra, Neh., Ob., Nah., Zef., Esth., Pred. and Hoogl. are never cited in the N. T.; that indeed no apocryphal books are cited but nevertheless in 2 Tim. 3:8; Hebr. 11:34 v.; Judas 9 v. 14 v., names and facts are mentioned that do not occur in the O. T.; and that a few times Greek classics are also cited, Hd. 17:18; 1 Cor. 15:33; Tit. 1:12. f). As regards finally the material use of the O. T. in the N. T., in this too there is great difference. Sometimes the citations serve for proof and confirmation of some truth, e.g. Mt. 4:4, 7, 10, 9:13, 19:5, 22:32; Joh. 10:34; Hd. 15:16, 23:5; Rom. 1:17, 3:10 v., 4:3, 7, 9:7, 12, 13, 15, 17, 10:5; Gal. 3:10, 4:30; 1 Cor. 9:9, 10:26; 2 Cor. 6:17. Very often the O. T. is cited as proof that it had to be fulfilled in the N. T. and has been fulfilled; whether in a literal sense, Mt. 1:23, 3:3, 4:15, 16, 8:17, 12:18, 13:14, 15, 21:42, 27:46; Mk. 15:28; Luk. 4:17 v.; Joh. 12:38; Hd. 2:17, 3:22, 7:37, 8:32, etc., or in a typical sense, Mt. 11:14, 12:39 v., 17:11; [332] Luk. 1:17; Joh. 3:14, 19:36; 1 Cor. 5:7, 10:4; 2 Cor. 6:16; Gal. 3:13, 4:21; Hebr. 2:6-8, 7:1-10, etc. More than once the citations from the O. T. serve simply for elucidation, explanation, admonition, consolation, etc., e.g. Luk. 2:23; Joh. 7:38; Hd. 7:3, 42; Rom. 8:36; 1 Cor. 2:16, 10:7; 2 Cor. 4:13, 8:15, 13:1; Hebr. 12:5, 13:15; 1 Petr. 1:16, 24, 25, 2:9. In that use we are often surprised by the sense that the N. T. writers find in the text of the O. T.; thus especially in Mt. 2:15, 18, 23, 21:5, 22:32, 26:31, 27:9, 10, 35; Joh. 19:37; Hd. 1:20, 2:31; 1 Cor. 9:9; Gal. 3:16, 4:22 v.; Ef. 4:8 v.; Hebr. 2:6-8, 10:5. This exegesis of the O. in the N. T. presupposes in Jesus and the apostles the thought that a word or sentence can have a much deeper meaning and a much wider scope than the writer suspected with it or laid into it. This is also more than once the case with classical writers. No one will think that Goethe, in writing down his classical poetry, had before his mind all that is now found in it. Hamerling has expressed this clearly in his Epilog an die Kritiker, Poet. Werke, Tiel Campagne I 142 f. With Scripture this is the case in a much stronger degree, because, according to the conviction of Jesus and his apostles, it has the H. Spirit as auctor primarius and bears a teleological character, cf. also Valeton, Theol. Stud. 1887 aflev. 6. Theremin, Die Beredsamkeit eine Tugend S. 236. Not only in those few places mentioned above, but in the whole conception and interpretation of the O. Test., the N. Test. is borne by the thought that the Israelite has its fulfillment in the Christian. The entire economy of the O. V. with all its institutions and rights and in its whole history points onward to the dispensation of the N. Covenant. Not Talmudism, but Christianity is the rightful heir of the treasures of salvation, promised to Abraham and his seed. Literature on the O. T. in the N. T., Glassius, Philologia Sacra, ed. 6a 1691. Surenhusius, Βιβλος καταλλαγης, in quo sec. vet. theol. hebr. formulas allegandi et modos interpretandi conciliantur loca V. T. in N. T. allegata, Amst. 1713. J. Hoffmann, Demonstr. evang. per ipsum scripturarum consensum in oraculis ex V. T. in N. allegatis, Tub. 1773-81. Th. Randolph, The prophecies and other texts cited in the New Test. [333] compared with the Hebr. Original and with the Sept. version, Oxf. 1782. Dr. H. Owen, The modes of quotation used by the evangelical writers explained and vindicated, Lond. 1789. F. H. Horne, An introduction to the critical study and knowledge of the holy Script. 4 vol. Lond. 1821 II 356-463. C. Sepp, The doctrine of the N. T. concerning the H. Scripture of the O. V. 1849. Tholuck, Das A. T. im N. 6e Aufl. 1877. Rothe, Zur Dogm. 184 f. Hofmann, Weissagung und Erfüllung im alt. u. n. Test. 1841. E. Haupt, Die altt. Citate in den vier Evang. 1871. Kautzsch, De V. T. locis a Paulo allegatis, 1869. E. Böhl, Forschungen nach einer Volksbibel zur Zeit Jesu 1873. Id. Die altt. Citate im N. T. 1878. K. Walz, Die Lehre der Kirche von der Schrift nach der Schrift selbst geprüft, Leiden 1884. Kuenen, De Profeten II 199 v. Caven, Our Lords testimony to the Old Test. Presb. and Ref. Rev. July 1892. A. Clemen, Der Gebrauch des A. T. im N. 1893. Kuyper, Encycl. II 378 v. Hans Vollmer, Die altt. Citate bei Paulus usw. Freiburg 1895.

11. For the inspiration of the N. T. we find in the writings of the apostles the following data: a) Jesus’ testimony is valid throughout the whole N. T. as divine, true, infallible. He is the Logos, who declares the Father, Joh. 1:18, 17:6; ὁ μαρτυς ὁ πιστος και ἀληθινος, Op. 1:5, 3:14; cf. Jes. 55:4, the Amen, in whom all the promises of God are yea and amen, Op. 3:14; 2 Cor. 1:20. There has been no deceit, δολος, in his mouth, 1 Petr. 2:22. He is the Apostle and High Priest of our confession, Hebr. 3:1; 1 Tim. 6:13. He does not speak ἐκ των ἰδιων, like Satan who is a liar, Joh. 8:44. But God speaks through Him, Hebr. 5:1. Jesus is sent by God, Joh. 8:42 and speaks nothing but what He has seen and heard, Joh. 3:32. He speaks the words of God, Joh. 3:34, 17:8 and bears witness only to the truth, 5:33, 18:37. Therefore his testimony is true, Joh. 8:14, 14:6, confirmed by the testimony of God himself, 5:32, 37, 8:18. Not only is Jesus in an ethical sense holy and without sin, Joh. 8:46, but He is also intellectually without error, lie, or deceit. It is perfectly true that Jesus in a narrower sense did not move in the field of science. He came to earth to declare the Father to us and to accomplish his work. But [334] the inspiration of Scripture, about which Jesus speaks, is not a scientific problem but a religious truth. If He has erred in this, He has been mistaken on a point that is most closely connected with the religious life, and He can also in religion and theology no longer be acknowledged as our highest prophet. The doctrine of the divine authority of Holy Scripture forms an important constituent in the words of God which Jesus proclaimed. This infallibility was with Jesus, however, no extraordinary, supernatural gift; no donum gratiae and no actus transiens; but habitus, nature. If Jesus had written something, He would thereby have had no need of any special assistance of the H. G. He did not need inspiration as an extraordinary gift, because He received the Spirit not by measure, Joh. 3:34, was the Logos, Joh. 1:1 and the fullness of God dwelt bodily in Him, Col. 1:19, 2:9. b) Jesus, however, has left us nothing in writing, and He himself has departed. Thus He had to take care that his true testimony was handed over to humanity unadulterated and pure. To that end He chooses the apostles. The apostleship is an extraordinary office and a wholly special service in Jesus’ church. The apostles are specifically given to Him by the Father, Joh. 17:6, chosen by Himself, Joh. 6:70, 13:18, 15:16, 19 and in all manner of ways prepared and qualified by Him for their future task. That task consisted in this, that they, soon after Jesus’ departure, had to appear as witnesses, Luk. 24:48; Joh. 15:27. They had been ear- and eyewitnesses of Jesus’ words and works; they had beheld the word of life with the eyes and touched it with the hands, 1 Joh. 1:1, and now had to bring this testimony concerning Jesus to Israel and to the whole world, Mt. 28:19; Joh. 15:27, 17:20; Hd. 1:8. But every man is false, God alone is true, Rom. 3:4. The apostles too were unfit for this task of witnessing. They were therefore not the actual witnesses. Jesus makes use of them only as instruments. The actual witness, who is faithful and true as He himself, is the H. Spirit. He is the Spirit of truth, and will bear witness of Jesus, Joh. 15:26, and the apostles can first appear as witnesses after and through Him, Joh. 15:27. That Spirit is therefore in a special sense promised and bestowed upon the apostles, [335] Mt. 10:20; Joh. 14:26, 15:26, 16:7, 20:22. Especially Joh. 14:26 teaches that clearly. The H. Spirit ὑπομνησει ὑμας παντα ἁ εἰπον ὑμιν. He will take the disciples with their persons and gifts, with their memory and judgment etc. into his service. He will add materially nothing new to the revelation, which is not already contained in Christ’s person, word and work, for He takes everything from Christ and in so far only brings the apostles to remembrance and in that way leads them into all the truth, Joh. 14:26, 16:13, 14. And this testimony of the H. Spirit through the mouth of the apostles is the glorification of Jesus, Joh. 16:14, just as Jesus’ testimony was a glorification of the Father, 17:4. c) Equipped with that Spirit in a special sense, Joh. 20:22; Hd. 1:8; Ef. 3:5, the apostles after the day of Pentecost also openly appear as witnesses, Hd. 1:8, 21, 22, 2:14, 32, 3:15, 4:8, 20, 33, 5:32, 10:39, 51, 13:31. In bearing witness to what they have seen and heard lies the significance of the apostleship. To that they are called and qualified. From that they derive their authority. To that they appeal over against contestation and opposition. And God in turn affixes to their testimony his seal by signs and wonders, and spiritual blessing, Mt. 10:1, 9; Mk. 16:15 v.; Hd. 2:43, 3:2, 5:12-16, 6:8, 8:6 v., 10:44, 11:21, 14:3, 15:8, etc. The apostles are from the outset, jure suo, the leaders of the Jerusalem church, they have oversight over the believers in Samaria, Hd. 8:14, visit the churches, Hd. 9:32, 11:22, take decisions in the H. Spirit, Hd. 15:22, 28, and enjoy a generally recognized authority. They speak and act by virtue of the authority of Christ. And although Jesus nowhere gave an express command also to record his words and deeds in writing —only in the Revelation is there repeatedly mention of a command to write, 1:11, 19, etc.— the apostles speak in their writing with the same authority; writing is a special form of witnessing. Also in writing, they are witnesses of Christ, Luk. 1:2; Joh. 1:14, 19:35, 20:31, 21:24; 1 Joh. 1:1-4; 1 Petr. 1:12, 5:1; 2 Petr. 1:16; Hebr. 2:3; Op. 1:3, 22:18, 19. Their testimony is faithful and true, Joh. 19:35; 3 Joh. 12. d) Among the apostles Paul again stands by himself. He sees himself called to defend his apostleship against the Judaizers, Gal. 1-2; 1 Cor. 1:10-4:21; [336] 2 Cor. 10-13. Over against that contestation he maintains that he was set apart from his mother’s womb, Gal. 1:14; was called to be an apostle by Jesus himself, Gal. 1:1; has personally seen Jesus himself, 1 Cor. 9:1, 15:8; was deemed worthy of revelations and visions, 2 Cor. 12; Hd. 26:16; has received his Gospel from Jesus himself, Gal. 1:12; 1 Tim. 1:12; Ef. 3:2-8, and thus just as well as the other apostles is an independent and reliable witness, especially among the Gentiles, Hd. 26:16; his apostleship too has been confirmed with wonders and signs, 1 Cor. 12:10, 28; Rom. 12:4-8, 15:18, 19; 2 Cor. 11:23 v.; Gal. 3:5; Hebr. 2:4; and with spiritual blessing, 1 Cor. 15:10; 2 Cor. 11:5, etc. He is therefore conscious that there is no other gospel than his, Gal. 1:7; that he is faithful, 1 Cor. 7:25; has the Spirit of God, 1 Cor. 7:40; that Christ speaks through him, 2 Cor. 13:3; 1 Cor. 2:10, 16; 2 Cor. 2:17, 5:23; that he proclaims God’s word, 2 Cor. 2:17; 1 Thess. 2:13; even down to the expressions and words, 1 Cor. 2:4, 10-13; and not only when he speaks but also when he writes, 1 Thess. 5:27; Col. 4:16; 2 Thess. 2:15, 3:14. Like the other apostles Paul appears more than once with apostolic authority, 1 Cor. 5; 2 Cor. 2:9, and gives binding commands, 1 Cor. 7:40; 1 Thess. 4:2, 11; 2 Thess. 3:6-14. And indeed he appeals a single time to the judgment of the church, 1 Cor. 10:15, but not in order to subject his pronouncement to its approval or disapproval, but on the contrary to be justified by the conscience and the judgment of the church, which after all also has the Spirit of God and the anointing of the Holy One, 1 Joh. 2:20. So little does Paul thereby make himself dependent on the judgment of the church, that he says in 1 Cor. 14:37, that, if anyone thinks to be a prophet and to have the Spirit, this will then precisely come out in his acknowledgment that what Paul writes are the Lord’s commandments. e) These writings of the apostles had from the outset authority in the churches where they were known. They were soon disseminated and thereby received ever more extensive authority, Hd. 15:22 v.; Col. 4:16. The Synoptic Gospels show so great an affinity, that the one must have been known in whole or in part to the other. Jude is known to Peter, and 2 Petr. 3:16 already knows many letters of Paul and places them on one line with the other Scriptures. Gradually there came translations of N. T. writings for reading aloud in the church, Just. M. Apol. 1:67. In the first half of the second century these must already have existed, Papias in Euseb. H. E. 3:39. Just. M. Apol. 1:66, 67. A dogmatic use is already made of them by Athenagoras, de resurr. c. 16, who there proves his reasoning with 1 Cor. 15:33; 2 Cor. 5:10. And Theophilus, ad Autol. 3:4 cites texts from Paul with the formula, διδασκει, κελευει ὁ θειος λογος. Irenaeus adv. haer. 3, 11, Tert. ad Prax. 15 and others, the Peschitto and the fragment of Muratori place it beyond all doubt, that in the 2nd half of the 2nd century most writings of the N. T. had canonical authority and enjoyed an equal dignity with the books of the O. T. Concerning some books, Jak., Jud., 2 Petr., 2 and 3 Joh. there remained difference, Euseb. H. E. 3:25. But the objections against these antilegomena became ever fewer in the 3rd century. And the Synod of Laodicea in 360, of Hippo Regius in 393, and of Carthage in 397 could also include these antilegomena and close the canon. These decisions of the church were no arbitrary and authoritarian act, but only codification and registration of the right, which with respect to these writings had long already existed in the churches. The canon is not formed by a decision of councils. Canon non uno quod dicunt actu ab hominibus, sed paulatim a Deo animorum temporumque rectore, productus est, Loescher bij Herzog2 7, 424. In the important dispute of Harnack and Zahn over the history of the N. T. canon Harnack undoubtedly lays too one-sided an emphasis on the concepts, Divinity, infallibility, inspiration, canon, on the formal establishment of the dogma of the N. T. Scripture. Long before this took place in the 2nd half of the 2nd century, the N. T. writings had through the authority of the apostles, the reading aloud in the church, etc. come to generally recognized authority. To this inner process Zahn very rightly draws attention. Cf. concerning this dispute Köppel, Stud. u. Krit. 1891, 1es Heft, and Barth, Neue Jahrb. f. d. Theol. 1893, 1es Heft. f.) Which principles led the church, both under the Old and New Testament, in this recognition of the canonicity of the O. and N. T. writings, cannot be determined with certainty. Apostolic origin cannot have given the [338] decisive factor, for Mark, Luke and Hebr. are also included. Nor does the recognition of canonicity have its ground in the fact that no other writings concerning Christ existed, for Luk. 1:1 makes mention of many others, and according to Irenaeus adv. haer. 1:20 there was ἀμυθητον πληθος ἀποκρυφων και νοθων γραφων. The principle of canon formation also cannot lie in size and importance, for 2 and 3 Joh. are very small: nor in the acquaintance of the writers, Mark, Luke, with the apostles, for letters of Clement and Barnabas were not included; and also not in originality, for Matthew, Mark and Luke; Ephesus and Colossae; Jude and 2 Petr. are dependent the one on the other. Nothing else can be said of it than that the recognition of these writings took place of itself in all churches without any agreement. With a few exceptions, the O. and the N. T. writings were immediately, from their origin onward, in their entirety, without a word of doubt or protest accepted as holy, divine writings. The place and the time where authority was first ascribed to them cannot be indicated. The canonicity of the Bible books is rooted in their existence. They have authority of themselves, jure suo, because they are there. It is the Spirit of the Lord, who led in the writing and who brought them to recognition in the church. Harnack, D. G. I 304 f. 318 f. Wildeboer, Het ontstaan v. d. Kanon des O. V. 107 v. Reuss, Gesch. des N. T. § 298 f. Herzog2 art. Kanon. W. Lee, The Inspiration of holy Scripture, 3e ed. Dublin 1864 p. 43.

12. The result of this investigation into the doctrine of Scripture concerning itself can be summarized in this, that it maintains and presents itself as the word of God. The expression word of God or word of the Lord has in Scripture various meanings. Often it denotes thereby the power of God, by which He creates and sustains all things, Gen. 1:3; Ps. 33:6, 147:17, 18, 148:18; Rom. 4:17; Hebr. 1:3, 11:3. Next, the special revelation is so called, by which God makes something known to the prophets. In the O. T. the expression in this sense occurs on almost every page; time and again it is said there: the word of the Lord came to pass. In the N. T. we find it in this sense only, Joh. 10:35; the word [339] now no longer comes to pass and does not come a single time from above and from without to the prophets, it has come to pass in Christ and remains. Further, word of God means the content of revelation; then there is mention of word or words of God, alongside rights, laws, commandments, statutes, which have been given to Israel, Ex. 9:20, 21; Richt. 3:20; Ps. 33:4, 119:9, 16, 17 etc. Jes. 40:8; Rom. 3:2 etc. In the N. Test. the Gospel is so called, which has been revealed by God in Christ and was proclaimed by the apostles, Luk. 5:1; Joh. 3:34, 5:24, 6:63, 17:8, 14, 17; Hd. 8:25, 13:7; 1 Thess. 2:13 etc. It is not improbable that the name word of God is then further used in Scripture a single time, in order thereby also to denote the written law, thus a portion of Scripture, Ps. 119:11, 105. Schultz, Grundriss der ev. Dogm. 4 f. In the N. T. such a passage cannot be indicated. Also in Hebr. 4:12 word of God is not the same as Scripture. But nevertheless the N. T. in fact sees in the books of the O. V. nothing other than the word of God. God, or the H. Spirit is the auctor primarius, who spoke in Scripture through, δια c. gen., the prophets, Hd. 1:16, 28:25. Scripture is then so called both on account of its origin and on account of its content. The formal and material meaning of the expression is in Scripture most closely connected. And finally the name word of God is used for Christ himself. He is the Logos in an entirely unique sense, revelator and revelatio at the same time. All revelations of God, all words of God, in nature and history, in creation and re-creation, under O. and N. T. have in Him their ground, their unity and center. He is the sun, the other words of God are His rays. The word of God in nature, under Israel, in the N. Test., in Scripture may not for a moment be detached from Him and conceived apart from Him. There is revelation of God only because He is the Logos. He is the principium cognoscendi, in a general sense of all science, in a special sense, as Λογος ἐνσαρκος, of all knowledge of God, of religion and theology, Mt. 11:27.

D. Concept of inspiration.

13. Holy Scripture nowhere offers us a clearly formulated dogma concerning inspiration, but it gives the matter, the fact of theopneusty and all the moments that are necessary for the construction of [340] the dogma. It teaches the theopneusty of Scripture in the same sense and in the same way, just as clearly and just as distinctly, but also just as little formulated in abstract concepts, as the dogma of the Trinity, of the incarnation, of the satisfaction, etc. This has repeatedly been denied. Every sectarian and heretical tendency almost begins with an appeal to Scripture against the confession, and tries to make its deviation appear as commanded by Scripture. But in most cases deeper investigation leads to the acknowledgment that orthodoxy has the testimony of Scripture on its side. The moderns now in general readily concede that Jesus and the apostles accepted the O. T. Scripture as God’s word, Lipsius, Dogm. § 185 S. 141, Strauss I 79, Pfleiderer, Der Paulinismus, 2e Aufl. Leipz. 1890 S. 87 f. Rothe, Zur Dogm. 178 f. also acknowledges this with respect to the apostles, but thinks that ecclesiastical dogmatics cannot appeal to Jesus for its doctrine of inspiration. This opinion, however, stands fairly much by itself and is shared by few. Jesus’ positive statements about the O. T. Scripture, Mt. 5:8; Luk. 16:17; Joh. 10:35, his citation and use, Mt. 19:4, 5, 22:43 etc. speak too strongly to that end, and are in no way freer than those of the apostles. But this contrast, which Rothe makes between the teaching of Jesus and that of the apostles, does not elevate but in fact undermines the authority of Jesus himself. For of Jesus we know nothing except through the apostles; whoever therefore discredits the apostles and presents them as unreliable witnesses of the truth, immediately contradicts Jesus himself, who has appointed his apostles as completely reliable witnesses and by his Spirit would lead them into all the truth. And to that certainly also belongs the truth concerning Holy Scripture. The slogan: back to Christ is deceptive and false, if it stands in contrast with the testimony of the apostles.

Very common is also another antithesis, which is made in order to be freed from the self-testimony of Scripture. Scripture, so one then says, may here and there teach inspiration; but in order to build up the doctrine of Scripture concerning Scripture, the facts must also be taken into account, which Scripture in its origin, formation, history, composition and content makes known to us. Only such a theory of inspiration is therefore true and good, which is compatible with the phenomena of Scripture [341] and is derived from these themselves. Very often one then makes it appear in this connection that the opposing party imposes its own, a priori opinion upon Scripture, and presses it into the straitjacket of scholasticism. And one appeals to the fact that, over against all those theories and systems, one precisely wants to let Scripture itself speak and wants to let it testify only of itself. Orthodoxy is precisely lacking in reverence for Scripture. It does violence to the text, the facts of Holy Scripture, Dr. G. Wildeboer, Letterk. des O. V. bl. V. This representation sounds fine and plausible at first hearing, but upon closer consideration nevertheless proves untenable. The antithesis is in the first place not that between some or other theory of inspiration and the self-testimony of Scripture. Inspiration is a fact, taught by Holy Scripture itself. Jesus and the apostles have given a testimony concerning Scripture. Scripture contains a doctrine also about itself. Apart from all dogmatic or scholastic development of this doctrine, the question is simply this, whether Scripture in this its self-testimony deserves faith, or not. There can be difference over the question whether Scripture teaches such a theopneusty of itself; but if yes, then it ought also to be believed in that, just as well as in its statements about God, Christ, salvation, etc. The so-called phenomena of Scripture cannot overthrow that self-testimony of Scripture and may not even be summoned against it as a party. For whoever makes his doctrine of Scripture dependent on the historical investigation into its formation and structure, already begins by rejecting the self-testimony of Holy Scripture and thus no longer stands in faith in that Scripture. He thinks to be able to build up the doctrine of Scripture better from his own investigation than to derive it in faith from Scripture; he sets his own thoughts in place of and above those of Scripture. Furthermore, the self-testimony of Scripture is clear, plain and even by the opponents acknowledged as such, but the consideration of the phenomena of Scripture is the result of prolonged historical-critical investigation and changes itself in all kinds of forms according to the different standpoint of the critics; the theologian who wants to come from such investigations to a doctrine about Scripture in fact sets his scientific insight over against the doctrine of Scripture concerning itself. But along that road one also never comes to a doctrine about Scripture; [342] historical-critical investigation can give a clear insight into the origin, the history, the structure of Scripture but never leads to a doctrine, to a dogma de S. Scriptura. This can of course only be built on a testimony of Scripture concerning itself. No one thinks of calling a history about the origin and the constituent parts of the Iliad a doctrine. With this method, therefore, not only some or other theory about inspiration falls, but this itself as fact and testimony of Scripture. Inspiration, if one still retains that word, then becomes nothing but the short summary of what the Bible is, or rather of what one thinks that the Bible is, and can then be in direct conflict with what the Bible itself claims to be, and for which it gives and presents itself. The method that one follows is in essence no other than that whereby the doctrine of creation, of man, of sin, etc. is not built up from the testimony of Scripture concerning it, but from the independent study of those facta. In both cases it is a correcting of the doctrine of the Bible by one’s own scientific investigation, a making dependent of the testimony of Scripture on human judgment. The facts and phenomena of Scripture, the results of scientific investigation may serve for explanation, elucidation, etc. of the doctrine of Scripture concerning itself, but can never nullify the fact of inspiration, of which it testifies. While on the one hand it is thus asserted that only such an inspiration is acceptable as agrees with the phenomena of Scripture, it is on the other hand the principle that the phenomena of Scripture, not as criticism sees them, but as they are in themselves, are compatible with its self-testimony.

14. Usually what Scripture teaches concerning itself is summarized in the word theopneusty or inspiration. The word θεοπνευστος 2 Tim. 3:16 does not occur earlier and is therefore perhaps first used by Paul. Etymologically it can have both an active and a passive meaning, and thus be translated both as: breathing God, and as: breathed by God. But the passive meaning has the preference, because it is most supported by the passages where the word occurs outside the N. T. and is recommended by the doctrine of Scripture of the N. T., 2 Petr. 1:21. In the Vulgate it is rendered by [343] divinitus inspirata. The word inspiration originally has a much broader sense. The Greeks and Romans ascribed to all who brought something great and good to completion an afflatus or instinctus divinus. Nemo vir magnus sine aliquo afflatu divino unquam fuit, Cic. de Nat. D. 2, 66. Est deus in nobis, agitante calescimus illo, Ovid. Fasti 6, 5. The inspiration of poets, artists, vates, etc. can also indeed serve to elucidate the inspiration of which the H. S. speaks. Almost all great men have expressed that their most beautiful thoughts suddenly and unconsciously rose up in their soul and were for themselves a surprise. One testimony may suffice. Goethe once wrote to Ekkermann, cited by Hoekstra, Godg. Bijdr. 1864, bl. 27, 28. Jede Produktivität höchster Art, jedes bedeutendes Aperçue, jede Erfindung, jeder grosse Gedanke der Früchte bringt und Folgen hat, steht in Niemandes Gewalt und ist über alle irdische Macht erhaben. Dergleichen hat der Mensch als unverhoffte Geschenke von oben, als reine Kinder Gottes zu betrachten, die er mit freudigem Danke zu empfangen und zu verehren hat. In solchen Fällen ist der Mensch als das Werkzeug einer höhern Weltregierung zu betrachten, als ein würdig befundenes Gefäss zur Aufnahme eines göttlichen Einflusses. Carlyle, On heroes, hero-worship and the heroic in history, 4th ed. London 1854, has therefore pointed to the heroes or geniuses as the core of the history of humanity. In their turn these geniuses, in every domain, again inspired the mass. Luther, Baco, Napoleon, Hegel have transformed the thoughts of millions and changed consciousness. This fact already teaches us that an influence of the one spirit upon the other is possible. The manner thereof is different, whether the one man speaks to the other, whether the orator animates the crowd by his word, whether the hypnotist transplants his thought into the magnetized person, etc., but always there is suggestion of thoughts, inspiration in a broader sense. Now Scripture teaches us that the world is not independent and does not exist and live out of itself, but that the Spirit of God is immanent in all that is created. The immanence of God is the basis for all inspiration and theopneusty, Ps. 104:30, 139:7; Job 33:4. Being and life are inspired into every creature from moment to moment by the Spirit. Still more specifically, that Spirit of the Lord is the principle [344] of all understanding and wisdom, Job 32:8; Jes. 11:2, so that all knowledge and art, all talent and genius proceeds from Him. In the congregation He is the Spirit of regeneration and renewal, Ps. 51:13; Ezech. 36:26, 27; Joh. 3:3; the distributor of the gifts, 1 Cor. 12:4-6. In the prophets He is the Spirit of prediction, Num. 11:25, 24:2, 3; Jes. 11:2. 42:1; Micha 3:8, etc. And so also, in the composition of Scripture, He is the Spirit of inspiration. This latter activity of the H. G. therefore does not stand by itself; it stands in connection with his entire immanent activity in the world and in the congregation. It is the crown and the apex of everything. The inspiration of the writers in the production of the Bible books is built upon all those other activities of the H. Spirit. It presupposes a work of the Father, by which the organs of revelation long beforehand from birth onward, yes even before birth in their lineage, environment, upbringing, development, etc. were prepared for that task to which they would later be specially called, Ex. 3-4; Jer. 1:5; Hd. 7:22; Gal. 1:15, etc. Inspiration therefore may not, as the moderns do, be identified with heroic, poetic, religious animation; it is not a work of the providentia Dei generalis, not an influence of God’s Spirit in equal measure and in the same manner as in the heroes and artists, even though it is also the case that this influence of God’s Spirit is more than once presupposed in the prophets and Bible writers. The Spirit in creation prepares the Spirit in re-creation. Further, in proper inspiration there is also presupposed a preceding work of the Son. The gift of theopneusty is bestowed only within the circle of revelation. Theophany, prophecy and miracle precede proper inspiration. Revelation and inspiration are distinct; the former is a work of the Son, of the Logos, the latter of the H. Spirit. There is therefore truth in the thought of Schleiermacher, that the holy writers stood under the influence of the holy circle in which they lived. Revelation and inspiration must be distinguished. But inspiration is not identical with revelation (cf. above bl. 300). It is rooted in it, but it rises above it. Finally, inspiration presupposes usually, although not always, also a work of the H. Spirit himself in regeneration, faith and conversion. The prophets and apostles were mostly holy men, [345] children of God. This thought of ethical theology also therefore contains elements of truth. But nevertheless inspiration is not identical with regeneration. Regeneration encompasses the whole man, inspiration is an operation in consciousness. The former sanctifies and renews, the latter illumines and instructs. The former does not of itself bring inspiration with it, and inspiration is possible without regeneration, Num. 23:5; Joh. 11:51; cf. Num. 22:28; 1 Sam. 19:24; Hebr. 6:4. Regeneration is a habitus permanens, inspiration is an actus transiens. With all these mentioned activities of God, therefore, inspiration stands in the closest connection. It may not be isolated from them. It is taken up into all those influences of God in all that is created. But here too the evolution-theory must be combated, as though the higher would arise only by immanent development out of the lower. The operation of God’s Spirit in nature, in humanity, in the congregation, in the prophets, in the Bible writers is related and analogous, but not identical. There is harmony, no sameness.

15. In what, then, does it itself consist? Scripture sheds light on this, when it repeatedly says that the Lord speaks through the prophets or through the mouth of his prophets. With respect to God the preposition ὑπο is used; He is the one speaking, He is the proper subject; but the prophets are his speaking or writing organs, with respect to them the preposition δια c. gen. is always used and never ὑπο, Mt. 1:22, 2:15, 17, 23, 3:3, 4:14, etc.; Luk. 1:70; Hd. 1:16, 3:18, 4:25, 28:25. God, or the H. Spirit is the proper speaker, the spokesman, the auctor primarius, and the writers are the organs through whom God speaks, the auctores secundarii, the scriptores or scribae. Further clarification is also given by 2 Petr. 1:19-21, where the origin of prophecy is not sought in the will of man, but in the driving of God’s Spirit. The φερεσθαι, cf. Hd. 27:15, 17 where the ship is driven by the wind, is essentially distinguished from the ἀγεσθαι of the children of God, Rom. 8:14; the prophets are borne, driven by the H. Spirit and consequently spoke. And likewise the proclamation of the apostles is called a speaking (ἐν) πνευματι ἁγιῳ, Mt. 10:20; Joh. 14:26, 15:26, 16:7; 1 Cor. 2:10-13, 16, 7:40; 2 Cor. 2:17, 5:20, 13:3. Prophets and apostles are thus θεοφορουμενοι; it is God, [346] who speaks in and through them. But Scripture itself leads us to conceive this speaking of God through the mouth of the prophets as organically as possible. There is here a distinction between the prophets and the apostles, and again among both mutually. Moses stands at the top among the prophets; God spoke with him as a friend with his friend. With Isaiah the driving of the Spirit bears a different character than with Ezekiel; Jeremiah’s prophecies distinguish themselves by their simplicity and naturalness from those with Zechariah and Daniel. With all the prophets of the O. T. the driving of the Spirit is more or less transcendent; it comes from above and from outside to them, falls upon them and works momentarily. With the apostles, on the other hand, the H. Spirit dwells immanently in the hearts, leads and drives, illumines and instructs them. There is thus very great difference also in the organic character of inspiration. But nevertheless all of Scripture commands us to think inspiration not mechanically but organically. Not, however, because a mechanical inspiration would in itself be impossible and impermissible and in conflict with the dignity of man. If it is not unworthy for a child to believe his parents and teachers on authority and simply to learn from them what it does not know; if it is not unworthy for a servant to receive commands from his lord, which he does not understand and only has to carry out, what unworthy thing would there then lie in it for man, to stand in such a relation to the Lord his God? But God has not taken this way; He has descended to man in revelation and inspiration and has joined himself to the peculiarities and even to the weaknesses of his human nature. That too has been a grace of the ἐνσαρκωσις. Just as the Logos did not overwhelm a man and unite himself with him but entered into the human nature and prepared and formed this itself through the Spirit, by whom it was conceived, so the Spirit of the Lord has also acted in inspiration. He has entered into the prophets and apostles themselves and has thus taken them into service and brought it about that they themselves investigated and thought, spoke and wrote. He is the one who speaks through them; but they themselves are at the same time the ones who speak and write. They were driven by the Spirit, but they nevertheless spoke themselves, ἐλαλησαν, 2 Petr. 1:20. Often the O. T. Scripture is cited in the N. T. with the auctor primarius, Luk. 1:70; Hd. 1:16, [347] 3:18, 4:25, 28:25 and always in Hebr. 1:5 f., 4:3, 5 etc., but just as often with the auctores secundarii, Moses, David, Isaiah etc., Mt. 13:14, 22:43; Joh. 1:23, 46, 5:46, 12:38. The moments of inspiration are not each to be considered separately on their own, but stand in connection with all that precedes: the prophets and apostles are from youth on prepared and made capable for their task; their character, nature, inclination, intellect, development etc. is not suppressed, but, as itself already formed by the Spirit of the Lord, is now also taken into service and used by that same Spirit; their whole person with all gifts and powers is made serviceable to the calling to which they are called. Investigation, Luk. 1:1, reflection and remembrance, Joh. 14:26, use of sources etc., is therefore not excluded by inspiration, but is included in it. Almost all books of O. and N. T. are therefore in a certain sense also occasional writings. Of a direct command to write there is mention only in a few texts; they by no means cover the whole content of Scripture. But those occasions too, which pressed toward writing, belong to the leading of the Spirit; precisely through these He drove on to writing. The calling to prophet and apostle did indeed of itself and naturally include that to speak and to testify, Ex. 3; Ez. 3; Am. 3:8; Hd. 1:8 etc., but not that of writing. For many prophets and apostles did not write. From Mt. 28:19 a special command to write is not to be derived. Among the charismata, 1 Cor. 12, writing is not mentioned, Bellarm., de verbo Dei IV cap. 3-4. But the H. Spirit has so guided the history of the church under Israel and in the N. T., that the deed had to pass over into the word and the word into the writing. From this guidance, with prophets and apostles the calling to write, the impulsus ad scribendum, was born. And that writing is the highest, the mightiest, the most general testimony, which does not vanish on the breath of the wind but manet in aeternum. And precisely because the writings of the prophets and apostles did not arise outside but out of and in history, therefore there is a science in theology which investigates and makes known all those occasions and circumstances under which the Bible books arose. When then the prophets and apostles thus bear witness in writing, they also retain their own character, their own language and style. At all times this difference in the books of the Bible has been recognized, but not always satisfactorily explained. It is not to be explained from this, that the H. Spirit according to mere arbitrariness now once and then thus wanted to write; but entering into the writers, He also entered into their style and language, into their character and peculiarity, which He himself had already prepared and formed. To that also belongs that He in the O. T. chooses Hebrew, in the N. T. Hellenistic Greek, as vehicle of the divine thoughts. In this too there was no arbitrariness. Purism defended in an awkward manner a precious truth. Measured by the Greek of Plato and Demosthenes, the N. T. is full of barbarisms and solecisms; but the marriage, which in Hellenistic Greek was concluded between pure Hebrew and pure Attic, between the Eastern and Western spirit, was in the domain of language the realization of the divine thought, that salvation is from the Jews, but is destined for all humanity. The language of the N. T. is not the most beautiful, grammatically and linguistically considered, but it is indeed the most suitable for communication of the thoughts of God. The word has also in this respect become truly and universally human. And finally, when the prophets and apostles wrote, then their own experience and history more than once supplied the material for their writing. In the psalms it is the pious singer, who alternately laments and rejoices, sits downcast in sorrow or exults with joy. In Rom. 7 Paul depicts for us his own life-experience, and through the whole of Scripture it is time and again the persons of the writers themselves, whose life and experience, whose hope and fear, whose faith and trust, whose complaint and misery is described and portrayed. That rich life, that deep experience, of a David e.g. has by the Spirit of the Lord been so formed and guided, that it, taken up into Scripture, would be for instruction to the following generations, in order that we through patience and consolation of the Scriptures might have hope, Rom. 15:4. Organic inspiration alone does justice to Scripture. It is in the doctrine of Scripture the effect and application of the central fact of revelation, the incarnation of the word. The Λογος has become σαρξ, and the word has become Scripture; they are two facts which run parallel not only, but are also most intimately connected. Christ has become flesh, a servant, without form or glory, the most despised among men; He has [349] descended into the lowest parts of the earth, has become obedient unto the death of the cross. And so also the word, the revelation of God, has entered into the creaturely, into the life and history of men and peoples, into all human forms of dream and vision, of investigation and reflection, even to the humanly weak and despised and ignoble; the word has become writing, and as writing has subjected itself to the lot of all writing. All this has happened, in order that the excellency of the power, also of the power of Scripture, may be God’s and not from us. Just as every human thought and action is fruit wholly of the action of God in whom we live and are, and at the same time wholly fruit of the activity of man, so also Scripture is product wholly and entirely of the Spirit of God, who speaks through the prophets and apostles, and at the same time wholly product of the activity of the writers. Θεια παντα και ἀνθρωπινα παντα.

16. This organic view has, however, repeatedly been used in order precisely to detract from the first point, from the authorship of the Holy Spirit. The incarnation of Christ demands that one trace it out into the depth of its humiliation, in all its weakness and disgrace. The description of the word, of revelation, invites us to recognize also in Scripture that weak and humble element, that form of a servant. But just as the human in Christ, however weak and humble, nevertheless remained free from the sinful, so also is Scripture sine labe concepta. Human wholly and in all its parts, but also likewise θεια παντα. Yet in many ways this divine character of Scripture has been done short. The history of inspiration teaches us that this was first, up to into the 17th century, extended further and further, down to the vowels and points (inspiratio punctualis), and subsequently that it has gradually more and more been contracted and limited, from the points to the words (insp. verbalis), from the singula verba to the word, the thought (Wort instead of Wörterinspiration with Philippi, Kirchl. Glaub. I3, 252), from the word as thought to the things (insp. realis), from the things to the religious-ethical content, to that which in the proper sense has been revealed, to the word of God sensu stricto, to the special object of saving faith (insp. fundamentalis, religiosa), from [350] these things again to the persons (insp. personalis), and from these finally to denial of all inspiration as a supernatural gift. Now it is gratifying that even the most negative direction still wants to assure Scripture a place and ascribe to it some value in the religious life and thinking of Christendom. The doctrine of Holy Scripture is not an opinion of this or that school, no dogma of a particular church or sect, but an articulus fundamentalis, an article of faith of the one holy catholic Christian church. Its significance for the whole of Christianity is being seen better and better; its unbreakable connection with Christian faith and life is being recognized ever better. For a time in dogmatics referred to the media gratiae, it has regained with honor its place in the introduction to dogmatics, Nitzsch, Lehrb. der ev. Dogm. 212. The whole Roman and Greek church still stands unweakened in the confession of the divine inspiration of Holy Scripture. Many Protestant churches and directions have up to now withstood all violence to dislodge it from this foundation. The congregation continues, through preaching and instruction, through reading and investigation, to live mediately or directly from Scripture and to nourish itself with Scripture. Even he who in theory denies inspiration speaks and acts in the practice of life many times as if he fully accepts it. The dualism of believing and knowing, in which according to many a conception orthodoxy finds itself with the doctrine of Scripture, does not come into comparison with the twofold position of the Vermittelungstheologie, which in the lecture hall denies inspiration and in the pulpit in fact confesses it. Radicalism comes more and more to the recognition that the inspiration of Scripture is taught by Scripture itself and must be accepted or rejected with it. All this shows that life is stronger than doctrine and that Scripture itself always reacts again against every naturalistic explanation. It itself claims to have proceeded from the Spirit of God and maintains this claim over against all criticism. Every attempt to strip it of the mysterious character of its origin, content, and power has thus far ended with giving it up and leaving Scripture to be Scripture. An inspiration is therefore no explanation of Scripture, and thus properly also no theory; but it is and ought to be a believing confession of what Scripture testifies concerning itself [351] in spite of the appearance that is against it. Inspiration is a dogma like the Trinity, the incarnation, etc., which the Christian accepts, not because he sees its truth, but because God testifies it thus. It is no scientific pronouncement but a confession of faith. With inspiration as with every other dogma, it is not in the first place the question: how much can and may I confess without coming into conflict with science, but what is the testimony of God and what is accordingly the pronouncement of the Christian faith? And then only one answer is possible, that Scripture presents itself as the word of God and the church of God in all ages has recognized it as such. Inspiration rests on the authority of Scripture and has obtained testimony from the church of all ages.

With this dogmatic and religious character of the doctrine of inspiration, the inspiratio personalis and fundamentalis is in conflict. Yet there is also in these conceptions a good thought. For it has certainly been the persons who, with all their gifts and powers, were taken into service in the inspiration by the H. Spirit; and those persons were holy men, men of God, suitably equipped for this work. Also, in Scripture there is without doubt a distinction between more and less important parts; not all books of the Bible have equal value. But both representations of inspiration weaken the testimony which Scripture gives of itself, and are not born from the plerophoria of faith but from transaction with science. Moreover, the inspiratio personalis still runs up against these objections, that it effaces the distinction between inspiration and illumination (regeneration), between the intellectual and the ethical life, between the φερεσθαι of the prophets, 2 Petr. 1:21 and the ἀγεσθαι of the children of God, Rom. 8:14, between the H. Scripture and edifying reading. Further, with Rome it reverses the relation of Scripture and church into its opposite, deprives the congregation of the firmness which it needs and makes it dependent on science, which must decide what in Scripture is or is not the word of God. Indeed many advocates of this theory of inspiration try to escape these objections by appealing to the person of Christ as source and authority of dogmatics, but this does not help for that reason, since there is precisely difference over the question who [352] Christ is and what He has taught and done. If the apostolic testimony concerning Christ is not reliable, no knowledge of Christ is possible. Added to that is that, if Christ is authority, He is that also in the doctrine concerning Scripture; the inspiration must then precisely be accepted on his authority. The above-mentioned theory comes into conflict with the authority of Christ himself. The inspiratio fundamentalis differs from the inspiratio personalis in that it still assumes a special activity of the Spirit in the writing, but only with some parts of Scripture. This representation, however, is so deistic and dualistic that it is already for that reason unacceptable. Besides, word and fact, the religious and the historical, what is spoken by God and by men in Scripture are so interwoven and interlaced that separation is impossible. The history in Scripture too is a revelation of God. And finally these two theories nevertheless do not meet the objections which are raised from the side of science against Scripture and its inspiration. For these by no means concern only some subordinate points in the periphery of revelation, but touch its heart and center itself. The inspiratio personalis and fundamentalis is by no means more scientific and more rational than the strictest inspiratio verbalis.

The other theories of inspiration, inspiratio punctualis, verbalis, realis and also the word-inspiration of Philippi, differ little among themselves. The activity of the H. Spirit in the writing has nevertheless consisted in this, that He, after having prepared the human consciousness of the scriptores in all manner of ways, through birth, upbringing, natural gifts, investigation, remembrance, reflection, life-experience, revelation, etc., now in and under and with the writing itself caused to arise in that consciousness those thoughts and words, that language and style, which could interpret the divine thought in the best way for men of every rank and station and people and century. In the thoughts the words and in the words the vowels are included. But from that it does not follow that the vowel-signs in our Hebr. manuscripts would have originated from the writers themselves. From that it also does not follow that everything is full of divine wisdom, that every iota and every tittle has an infinite content. Everything has its sense and its meaning very certainly, but there in that place and in the context in which it [353] occurs. Not atomistically may Scripture be regarded, as if each word and each letter separately in itself and isolated, as such, would have been inspired by God, with an own intention, with an own and thus divine, infinite content. That leads to the foolish hermeneutical rules of the Jewish scribes and does not honor but dishonors the H. Scripture. But organically must the inspiration be conceived, so that also the least has its place and meaning and at the same time nevertheless lies at a much further distance from the center than other parts. In the human organism nothing is accidental, neither the length, nor the breadth, nor the color, nor the tint; but for that reason not everything stands in the same close connection with the life-center. Head and heart take a much more important place in the body than hand and foot, and these again stand in value far above nails and hairs. Also in Scripture not everything lies equally closely gathered around the center; there is a periphery, which moves widely around the midpoint, but it too belongs to the circle of the thoughts of God. Kinds and degrees in the inspiration itself therefore are not there. The hair of the head partakes of the same life as heart and hand. It is one anima, which tota est in toto corpore et in omnibus partibus. It is one Spirit, from which the whole of Scripture has proceeded through the consciousness of the writers. But indeed there is difference in the manner in which the same life is immanent and active in the different parts of the body. There is diversity of gifts, also in Scripture, but it is the same Spirit.

E. Objections against inspiration.

17. Against this inspiration of Scripture many and very serious objections are raised. They are derived from historical criticism, which contests the authenticity and credibility of many books of the Bible; from the internal contradictions, which occur repeatedly in Scripture; from the manner in which the Old Test. is cited and explained in the New; from profane history, with which the narratives of Scripture are often not to be reconciled; from nature, which both in its origin and in its existence contradicts Scripture with its creation and its miracles; from religion and morality, which often pass a [354] disapproving judgment on the faith and life of the persons of the Bible; from the present form of Scripture, which, as textual criticism shows, has been lost in its autographa, is corrupt in its apographa and defective in its translations, etc. It is a vain attempt to explain away these objections and to act as if they do not exist. But yet in the first place attention must be drawn to the ethical significance of the struggle which in all centuries has been waged against Scripture. If Scripture is the word of God, that struggle is not accidental but necessary and also perfectly explicable. Because it is the description of the revelation of God in Christ, it must call forth the same resistance as Christ himself. He has come into the world for a κρισις and has been set for a fall and a rising again for many. He brings separation between light and darkness and makes the thoughts out of many a heart manifest. And likewise Scripture is a living and powerful word, a judge of the thoughts and the deliberations of the heart. It was not only inspired, it is still theopneust. Just as much precedes the act of inspiration, the whole activity of the H. Spirit in nature, history, revelation, regeneration, so also much follows. Inspiration does not stand by itself. The H. Spirit does not withdraw, after the act of inspiration, from Holy Scripture and does not abandon it to its fate, but He bears and animates it, and brings its content in all manner of form to humanity, to its heart and conscience. Through Scripture as the word of God the H. Spirit binds a continual struggle against the thoughts and deliberations of the ψυχικος ἀνθρωπος. In itself, therefore, it need not cause the least astonishment that Scripture at all times has encountered contradiction and opposition. Christ has borne a cross, and a servant is not greater than his lord. Scripture is the handmaid of Christ. It shares in his reproach. It calls forth the enmity of sinful man.

From that, now, not all opposition to Scripture is indeed to be explained. But still the attacks to which Scripture in this century is exposed are not to be regarded in themselves. They undoubtedly hang together with the entire direction of mind of this century. Concerning persons and intentions, judgment does not belong to us; but it would be superficial to assert that the struggle against Scripture in this century stood wholly on its own, was governed by wholly [355] other and much purer motives than in earlier centuries, that now only the head would speak along and the heart would remain entirely outside of it. Every believer has the experience that he, in the best moments of his life, also stands the strongest in faith in Scripture; his trust in Scripture increases with his faith in Christ, and conversely ignoratio Scripturarum is of itself and in that same measure also an ignoratio Christi (Hieronymus). The connection of sin and error often lies deep beneath the surface of conscious life. In another it is almost never to be pointed out, but sometimes it is discovered to one’s own eye of the soul. The struggle against Scripture is in the first place a revelation of the enmity of the human heart. But that enmity can express itself in different ways. It by no means comes out only and perhaps not even the strongest in the criticism to which Scripture in our time is subjected. Scripture as the word of God meets resistance and unbelief with every psychical man. In the days of dead orthodoxy, in principle unbelief in Scripture was just as powerful as in our historical and critical century. The forms change, but the essence remains one. Whether the enmity against Scripture expresses itself in a criticism like that of Celsus and Porphyrius, or whether it reveals itself in a dead faith, the enmity is in principle the same. For not the hearers, but the doers of the word are pronounced blessed. The servant who has known the will of his lord and has not made himself ready nor done according to his will, he shall be beaten with many stripes.

Therefore it remains a duty for every human being, first of all, to lay aside this enmity against the word of God and to lead all thoughts captive to the obedience of Christ. Scripture itself everywhere comes forward with this demand. Only the pure in heart shall see God. Regeneration causes the kingdom of God to be beheld. Self-denial is the condition for being Jesus’ disciple. The wisdom of the world is foolishness with God. Scripture assumes, over against every human being, so lofty a position that, instead of submitting to his criticism, it rather judges him in all his thoughts and desires. And this has been the standpoint of the Christian church over against Scripture at all times. Humility was according to Chrysostom the foundation [356] of philosophy. Augustine said: quemadmodum rhetor ille rogatus, quid primum esset in eloquentiae praeceptis, respondit: pronuntiationem; quid secundum, pronuntiationem; quid tertium, pronuntiationem; ita si me interroges de religionis Christianae, primo, secundo et tertio semper respondere liberet: humilitatem. Calvin, Inst. II 2, 11, cites this with approval. And Pascal, Pensées, Art. 8, cries it out to man: humiliez-vous, raison impuissante, taisez-vous, nature imbécile..... écoutez Dieu! Thus the church has stood over against Scripture in all ages. And the Christian dogmatician may assume no other position. For a dogma does not rest on the results of any historical-critical investigation, but rests only on the testimony of God, on the self-testimony of Holy Scripture. A Christian does not believe because everything reveals God’s love, but in spite of everything that awakens doubt. Also in Scripture much remains that awakens doubt. All believers know how to speak of that from experience. The men of Scripture criticism often represent it as though the simple congregation knew nothing of the objections that are brought against Scripture and felt nothing of the difficulty of continuing to believe in Scripture. But that is an impure representation. Certainly, simple Christians do not know the obstacles which scholarship places in the way of faith in Scripture. But they nevertheless know, in greater or lesser measure, the struggle that is waged in both head and heart against Scripture. There is not a single believer who has not in his own way learned to know the antithesis between the σοφια του κοσμου and the μωρια του θεου. It is one and the same and it is an always continuing struggle, which must be fought by all Christians, learned or unlearned, to keep the thoughts captive under the obedience of Christ. No one overcomes that struggle here on earth. Over the whole inheritance of faith there remain cruces that must be overcome. There is no faith without struggle. Believing is struggling, struggling against the appearance of things. As long as someone still believes something, his faith is contested from all sides. The modern believer is not delivered from that either. Concessions only weaken but do not set free. Thus there remain still objections enough, also for him who submits childlike to Scripture. These need not be glossed over. There are cruces in Scripture that are not to be explained away [357] and that probably also will never be resolved. But these difficulties, which Holy Scripture itself offers us over against its inspiration, have for a great part not been newly discovered in this century; they have been noticed at all times, and nevertheless Jesus and the apostles, Athanasius and Augustine, Thomas and Bonaventura, Luther and Calvin, have all Christians of all churches and through all centuries confessed and acknowledged Scripture as the word of God. Whoever wants to wait with faith in Scripture until all objections have been removed out of the way and all contradictions have been reconciled, never comes to faith. What someone sees, why would he also hope for it? Jesus pronounces blessed those who have not seen and yet will have believed. But moreover, objections and difficulties exist in every science. Whoever does not want to begin with believing, never comes to knowing. The Erkenntnisstheorie is the principle of philosophy; but it is mystery from the beginning to the end. Whoever does not want to proceed to scientific investigation before he sees the path paved along which we come to knowledge, never begins with it. Whoever does not want to eat before he understands the whole process by which the food comes to him, dies of hunger; and whoever does not want to believe the word of God before he sees all difficulties solved, perishes of spiritual lack. With understanding it will not do, seize the uncomprehended (Beets). Nature, history, and every science offers as many cruces as Holy Scripture. Nature contains so many riddles that it can often make us doubt the existence of a wise and righteous God. There are ἐναντιοφανη in abundance on every page of the book of nature. There is an inexplicable remainder (Schelling), which mocks all explanation. Who therefore gives up faith in the Providence of God, which extends over all things? Mohammedanism, the life and the destiny of life of the uncivilized peoples is a crux in the history of humanity, just as great and just as difficult as the composition of the Pentateuch and the Synoptici. Who therefore doubts that God also writes that book of nature and of history with his almighty hand? Naturally one can here and thus also with Scripture throw oneself into the arms of agnosticism and of pessimism. But despair is a salto mortale also in the scientific domain. With unbelief the mysteries of being do not decrease but increase. And the discontent of the heart becomes greater.

18. But furthermore the organic conception of inspiration provides many means to meet the objections raised against it. For it implies that the Holy Spirit, in the writing of the word of God, has disdained nothing human in order to serve as an organ of the divine. The revelation of God is not abstractly supranatural, but has entered into the human, into persons and circumstances, into forms and customs, into history and life. It does not remain hovering high above us, but has descended into our condition; it is flesh and blood and has become like us in all things except sin. It now constitutes an ineradicable component of this cosmos in which we live, and continues its renewing and restoring operation therein. The human has become the organ of the divine, the natural the revelation of the supernatural, the visible sign and seal of the invisible. In inspiration use has been made of all gifts and powers that lie in human nature. Thereby, in the first place, the difference in language and style, in character and individuality, that is to be noticed in the books of the Bible is completely explicable. Formerly this difference was explained from the will of the Holy Spirit, and a deeper consideration was lacking. But with organic inspiration this difference is completely natural. Also the use of sources, the writers’ familiarity with earlier writings, personal investigation, memory, reflection, and life experience is not excluded by the organic conception but included. The Holy Spirit himself has in that way prepared his scriptores; he did not descend upon them all at once from above, but made use of their whole personality as his instrument. Here too the word applies, that gratia non tollit sed perficit naturam. The personality of the writers has not been erased but maintained and sanctified. Inspiration therefore in no way requires that we, literarily or aesthetically, equate the style of Amos with that of Isaiah, or that we would deny all barbarisms and solecisms in the language of the N. T. In the second place, the organic conception of revelation and inspiration brings with it that ordinary human and natural life is not [359] excluded but has also been made serviceable to the thoughts of God. Scripture is the word of God; it not only contains it but it is it. But the formal and material element may not be separated from one another in this expression. Inspiration alone and by itself would not yet make a writing the word of God in the scriptural sense. Even if a book on geography, for example, were wholly and entirely inspired and in the most literal sense dictated word for word, thereby it would still not be theopneust in the sense of 2 Tim. 3:16. Scripture is the word of God, because the Holy Spirit testifies in it of Christ, because it has the Λογος ἐνσαρκος as subject matter and content. Form and content penetrate one another, and are not to be separated. But in order to portray this image of Christ to us full-length as before our eyes, for that it is necessary that human sin and the satanic lie also be depicted in all their horror. In the painting the shadow is necessary, in order to make the light stand out more clearly. Sin must also in Bible saints be called sin, and error may also in them not be excused. And while the revelation of God in Christ thus takes unrighteousness up into itself as antithesis, it also does not disdain the human-weak and natural. Christ has considered nothing human foreign to himself, and Scripture also does not forget the smallest cares of daily life, 2 Tim. 4:13. The Christian does not stand antithetically over against the human; it is its restoration and renewal. In the third place, with the content the intention and the destination of Scripture also most closely cohere. All that was written beforehand was written for our instruction. It serves for instruction, refutation, improvement, instruction that is in righteousness, in order that the man of God may be perfect, fully equipped for every good work. It serves to make us wise unto salvation. Holy Scripture has a thoroughly religious-ethical destination. It does not wish to be a handbook for the various sciences. It is principium only of theology and demands that we shall read and investigate it theologically. In all the disciplines that group themselves around Scripture, it must be our concern to obtain the saving knowledge of God. For that Scripture offers us all the data. In that sense it is completely sufficient and perfect. Whoever, however, wishes to derive from Scripture a history of Israel, a biography of Jesus, [360] a history of Israel’s or of early-Christian literature, etc., finds himself repeatedly disappointed. Then there are gaps, which cannot be filled except by conjectures. Historical criticism has entirely forgotten this destination of Scripture. It attempts to deliver a history of Israel’s people and religion and literature, and comes a priori with demands to Scripture, which it cannot satisfy. It runs up against contradictions that cannot be resolved, sifts sources and books endlessly, arranges and orders them quite differently, with the sole result that a hopeless confusion arises. From the four Gospels no life of Jesus is to be constructed and from the Old Testament no history of Israel. The Holy Spirit has not intended that. Notarial recording has not been the inspiration. The harmonistics of the evangelical narratives has failed, cf. Dieckhoff, Die Inspiration und Irrthumslosigkeit der H. Schrift, Leipzig 1891. Id. Noch einmal über die Insp. u. Irrth. der H. S. Rostock 1893. Herzog2 art. Evangelienharmonien en Synopse. To exact knowledge, such as we demand in mathesis, astronomy, chemistry, etc., Scripture does not correspond. Such a standard may not be applied to it. Therefore the autographa have also been lost. Therefore the text, however slight the degree, is corrupt; therefore the congregation and truly the laypeople not only possess Scripture only in an imperfect and fallible translation. Those are facts that cannot be denied. And they teach us that Scripture has its own standard, is of its own interpretation, and has its own destination. That destination is none other than that it would make us wise unto salvation. The Old Testament is not a source for a history of Israel’s people and religion but indeed for a historia revelationis. The Gospels are not a source for a life of Jesus but indeed for a dogmatic knowledge of his person and work. Scripture is the book for the Christian religion and for Christian theology. For that it has been given. For that it is suited. And therefore it is the word of God, bestowed upon us by the Holy Spirit.

19. From this the relation finally becomes clear in which Scripture stands to the other sciences. Much misuse has been made of the word of Baronius: Scripture does not say, [361] how the heaven goes but how we go to heaven. Precisely as book of the knowledge of God Scripture has much to say, also to the other sciences. It is a light on the path and a lamp for the foot, also of science and art. It lays claim to authority in every domain of life. Christ has all power in heaven and on earth. Objectively the limitation of inspiration to the religious-ethical part of Scripture is untenable, and subjectively the separation between the religious and the rest of the life of man is not to be maintained. Inspiration extends to all parts of Scripture, and religion is a matter of the whole man. Very much of what is mentioned in Scripture is also of principial significance for the other sciences. The creation and fall of man, the unity of the human race, the flood, the origin of peoples and languages, etc. are facts also for the other sciences of the highest importance. At every moment science and art come into contact with Scripture, the principia for the whole of life are given in Scripture. Nothing may be detracted from this. But yet on the other hand there also lies a great truth in the word of Cardinal Baronius. Also all those facts are communicated in Scripture not in and for themselves, but with a theological purpose, in order that we should know God unto salvation. Scripture never intentionally concerns itself with science as such. Christ himself, although free from all error and sin, nevertheless never moved in a narrower sense in the domain of science and art, of commerce and industry, of jurisprudence and politics. His was another greatness; the glory of the Only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth. But precisely thereby He has been a blessing also for science and art, for society and state. Jesus is Saviour, that alone, but that also wholly. He did not come only to restore the religious-ethical life of man and to leave all the rest untouched, as if this were not corrupted by sin and had no need of restoration. No, as far as sin extends, so also the grace of Christ extends. And likewise it is with Scripture. It too is through and through religious, the word of God unto salvation, but for that very reason also precisely a word for family and society, for science and art. Scripture is a [362] book for the whole of humanity, in all its ranks and estates, in all its generations and peoples. But for that very reason it is not a scientific book in a narrower sense. Wisdom, not learnedness is what speaks in it. It does not speak the exact language of science and of the school, but that of observation and of daily life. It does not judge and describe things according to the results of scientific investigation, but according to intuition, according to the first, living impression that the phenomena make on man. Therefore it speaks of the drawing near of the land, of the rising and standing still of the sun, of the blood as the soul of the animal, of the kidneys as seat of the affections, of the heart as source of thoughts, etc. and in doing so does not concern itself at all with the scientifically-precise language of astronomy, physiology, psychology, etc. It speaks of the earth as the centre of God’s creation and chooses no party between the Ptolemaic and the Copernican world-view. It does not decide between Neptunism and Plutonism, nor also between allopathy and homoeopathy. The scriptores of Holy Scripture probably knew in all these sciences, geology, zoology, physiology, medicines, etc. nothing more than all their contemporaries. Nor was it necessary. For Holy Scripture employs the language of daily experience, which is always true and always remains. If Scripture instead of that had used the language of the school and had spoken scientifically-exactly, it would have stood in the way of its own authority. If it had decided for the Ptolemaic world-view, it would be unbelievable in an age that honoured the Copernican system. It also would not have been able to be a book for life, for humanity. But now it speaks in general-human language, intelligible for the simplest, clear for learned and unlearned both. It employs the language of observation, which will always continue to exist alongside that of science and of the school. Therefore it can also endure until the end of the ages. Therefore it is old, without ever becoming antiquated. It is always young and fresh; it is the speech of life. Verbum Dei manet in aeternum. [363]

§ 12. Properties of Scripture.

A. The properties of Scripture in general.

1. The doctrine of the affectiones of Holy Scripture has developed entirely out of the struggle against Rome and Anabaptism. In the confession of the inspiration and authority of Scripture there was agreement, but otherwise there was in the locus de S. Scr. a great difference between Rome and the Reformation. The relation in which Rome had placed Scripture and church to one another was in the Reformation changed in principle. With the church fathers and scholastics, Scripture, at least in theory, still stood far above church and tradition; it rested in itself, was αὐτοπιστος and for church and theology the norma normans. Augustine said, scriptura canonica certis suis terminis continetur, in Harnack, D. G. II 85, and reasons Conf. 6,5, 11,3 thus, as if the truth of Holy Scripture depends only on itself. Bonaventure, de sept. don. n. 37-43, cited in the Breviloquium ed. Freiburg 1881 p. 370, declares: ecclesia enim fundata est super eloquia Sacrae Scripturae, quae si deficiant, deficit intellectus........ Cum enim ecclesia fundata sit in Sacra Scriptura, qui nescit eam, nescit ecclesiam regere. More such testimonies are cited by Gerhard, Loci theol. I cap. 3 § 45, 46 from Salvianus, Biel, Cajetanus, Hosius, Valentia etc. Canisius says in his Summa doctrinae christ., in cap. de praeceptis ecclesiae § 16: Proinde sicut scripturae propter testimonium Divini Spiritus in illa loquentis credimus, adhaeremus ac tribuimus maximam auctoritatem, sic ecclesiae fidem, reverentiam obedientiamque debemus. And also Bellarmine, de Verbo Dei, lib. 1 cap. 2 still declares: Sacris Scripturis, quae propheticis et apostolicis litteris continentur, nihil est notius, nihil certius, ut stultissimum esse necesse sit qui illis fidem habendam esse negat. All were of the opinion that Scripture could sufficiently be proved as truth from and through itself; it does not depend on the church, but conversely the church on it; the church with its tradition may be regula fidei, but fundamentum fidei it is not yet. That is Scripture alone.

But the church with its office and tradition began at Rome, the longer the more, to assume an independent position and to acquire authority [364] alongside Holy Scripture. The relation of the two was at first not more precisely defined, but nevertheless soon demanded a better regulation. And when the church continually increased in power and self-sufficiency, the authority was the longer the more transferred from Scripture to the church. Various moments in history indicate the process through which the church raised itself from the position under, to that alongside, and finally also to that above Scripture. The question, which of the two, Scripture or the church, had precedence, was clearly and consciously posed for the first time in the time of the reforming councils. Despite the contradiction of Gerson, d’Ailly, and especially of Nicolaas van Clémange, Herz.2 3:247 it was decided in favor of the church. Trent has sanctioned this over against the Reformation. In the struggle against Gallicanism the question was further specified, and in the Vaticanum 1870 it has been so resolved, that the church was declared infallible. The subject of this infallibility, however, is not the ecclesia audiens, nor the ecclesia docens, nor also the collective bishops, assembled in council, but specifically the pope. And this one again not as a private person, nor also as bishop of Rome or patriarch of the West but as Supreme Shepherd of the whole church. He possesses this infallibility indeed as head of the church and not apart from her, but he nevertheless does not possess it through and with her, but above and in distinction from her. Even bishops and councils have a share in the infallibility, not separated from, but only in unity with and submission to the pope. He stands above all, and alone makes the church, tradition, the councils, the canons infallible. Councils without the pope can err and have erred, Bellarminus, de Conc. et Eccl. II c. 10-11. The whole church, both docens and audiens, is only infallible una cum et sub Romano pontifice, Jansen, Theol. I 506. Therewith the whole relation of church and Scripture is reversed. The church, or more concretely the pope, precedes and stands above Scripture. Ubi papa, ibi ecclesia, Jansen, I 511. The infallibility of the pope makes that of the church, the bishops and councils and likewise that of Scripture unnecessary.

2. From this Roman conception of the relationship of Scripture and church all the differences proceed which in the doctrine of [365] Scripture exist between Rome and the Reformation. They concern chiefly the necessity of Holy Scripture, the apocrypha of the O. Test., the editio Vulgata, the Bible prohibition, the interpretation of Scripture and tradition. Formally the reversal in the relationship of Scripture and church comes out most clearly in this, that the more recent Roman theologians treat the doctrine of the church in the pars formalis of dogmatics. The church belongs to the principia fidei. As Scripture in the Reformation, so is the church, the magisterium, or properly the pope the formal principle, the fundamentum fidei in Romanism, Jansen, I 829.

Over against this the Reformers placed the doctrine of the properties of Scripture. It bore entirely a polemical character, but for that very reason it also stood, in the main, fixed from the beginning, Heppe, Dogm. d. deutschen Prot. I 207-257. Gradually it was also incorporated more or less systematically and methodically into dogmatics, not yet with Zwingli, Calvin, Melanchthon, etc., but nevertheless already with Musculus, Loci Comm. 1567 p. 374 sq. Zanchius, de S. Script. Op. VIII 319 sq. Polanus, Synt. Theol. 17 sq. Junius, Theses Theol. Op. I 1594 sq. etc., and in the Lutheran church with Gerhard, Quenstedt, Calovius, Hollaz, etc. But in the treatment there was difference. Sometimes all manner of historical and critical material was discussed in it; dogmatics took up almost the whole “Introduction,” the canonica generalis and specialis, into itself. Also the number and the division of the properties were stated unequally. Authority, usefulness, necessity, truth, clarity, sufficiency, origin, division, content, apocrypha, council, church, tradition, editio authentica, translations, interpretation, proofs, testimonium Sp. Si., all this and much more was brought up in the doctrine of Scripture and of its properties. Little by little there came more delimitation of the material. Calovius and Quenstedt distinguished between affectiones primariae and secundariae; to the former belonged the auctoritas, veritas, perfectio, perspicuitas, semet ipsam interpretandi facultas, judicialis potestas and efficacia, and under the latter were reckoned the necessitas, integritas, puritas, authentia and legendi omnibus concessa licentia. Still simpler was the order followed many times: auctoritas, necessitas, perfectio seu sufficientia, perspicuitas, semet ipsam interpretandi facultas and efficacia, Hase, Hutterus Rediv. § 43 f. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. S. 27 f. Herzog2 2, [366] 365 f. Heppe, Dogm. der ev. ref. K. 9 f. Voigt, Fundamentaldogm. S. 644 f. But even so there is still simplification to be made. The historical, critical, archaeological material etc. does not belong in dogmatics, but in the bibliological disciplines of theology. The authentia, integritas, puritas etc. therefore cannot be treated fully in dogmatics; they are mentioned there only insofar as the doctrine of Scripture also offers some data for its condition. The veritas, after inspiration and authority, no longer needs a separate argument, and would thereby rather be weakened than strengthened. The efficacia finds its place in the doctrine of the media gratiae. Thus only the auctoritas, necessitas, perfectio and perspicuitas remain. Among these there is still this distinction, that the auctoritas is not a property that is coordinated with the others, for it is given of itself with the inspiration; the necessitas, perspicuitas and sufficientia, on the other hand, do not flow from the inspiration in the same sense. It is conceivable that an infallible Scripture had to be supplemented and explained by an infallible tradition. Rome does indeed acknowledge the authority of Scripture, but denies its other properties.

B. The authority of Scripture.

3. The authority of Scripture has at all times been acknowledged in the Christian church. Jesus and the apostles believed in the O. Test. as the word of God and ascribed to it a divine authority. The Christian church was born and grew up under the authority of Scripture. What the apostles have written must be accepted as if Christ himself had written it, Aug. de cons. evang. I 35. And Calvin declares in his exposition of 2 Tim. 3:16, that we owe to Scripture eandem reverentiam as to God. That authority of Scripture stood firm in all churches and among all Christians until the previous century. In contrast, between Rome and the Reformation there arose a serious difference concerning the ground on which that authority rests. Church fathers and scholastics still often taught the autopistia of Scripture, but the driving force of the Roman principle has more and more pushed the church before Scripture. The church, so runs the general Roman doctrine at present, precedes Scripture temporally and logically. [367] It existed earlier than Scripture, and does not owe its origin, existence, and authority to Scripture, but exists in and through itself, i.e. through Christ, or the H. Spirit who dwells in it. Scripture, on the other hand, has precisely proceeded from the church and is now by it acknowledged, confirmed, preserved, interpreted, defended, etc. Scripture thus indeed needs the church, but the church does not need Scripture. Without church there is no Scripture, but without Scripture there is indeed a church. The church with the infallible tradition is the original and sufficient means to preserve and communicate revelation; the H. Scripture was added later, is in itself insufficient, but as support and confirmation of tradition is useful and good. In fact, at Rome Scripture is made wholly dependent on the church. The authenticity, integrity, inspiration, canonicity, authority of Scripture is determined by the church. In that connection, however, this distinction is then made, that Scripture does not, quoad se, but quoad nos, wholly depend on the church. The church does not by its recognition make Scripture inspired, canonical, genuine, etc., but it is nevertheless the only one that can know these properties of Scripture in an infallible manner. The self-testimony of Scripture, after all, does not make out that precisely these books of O. and N. T., and no others and no fewer, are inspired; nowhere does the H. Scripture give a catalogue of the books that belong to it; the texts that teach inspiration never cover the whole of Scripture, 2 Tim. 3:16 applies only to the O. Test.; moreover, an appeal for the inspiration of Scripture to Scripture itself is always still only a circular proof. The Protestants are therefore also mutually divided over the books that belong to Scripture; Luther’s judgment concerning James differs from that of Calvin, etc. The proofs for Scripture derived from the church fathers, etc., are not firm and solid enough; they have as motiva credibilitatis great value, but they nevertheless give only probability, human and thus fallible certainty. Only the church gives divine, infallible certainty, as Augustine then also said: ego vero Evangelio non crederem, nisi me catholicae ecclesiae commoveret auctoritas, c. epist. Manich. cap. 5. c. Faustum l. 28. cap. 2,4,6. The Protestants have therefore also been able to accept and acknowledge Scripture as God’s word, because they received it from the hand of the church, Bellarminus, de Verbo Dei IV cap. 4. Perrone, Praelect. [368] Theol. IX 71 sq. Heinrich, Dogm. I 775 f. Jansen, Theol. I 766 sq. The Vaticanum, sess. 3. cap. 2 acknowledged the books of the O. and N. T. as canonical, propterea quod Sp. So. inspirante conscripti Deum habent autorem atque ut tales ipsi ecclesiae traditi sunt. Guided by these thoughts, Rome at Trent sess. 4 and in the Vatican sess. 3 cap. 2 established the canon, included in it, after the example of the Greek translation and the practice of the church fathers, also the apocrypha of the O. T., and moreover declared the editio Vulgata to be the authentic text, so that this has decisive authority in church and theology.

4. Over against this Roman doctrine the Reformation set the autopisty of Scripture, Calvijn, Inst. I c. 7. Ursinus, Tract. Theol. 1584 p. 8 sq. Polanus, Synt. I c. 23-30. Zanchius, de S. Scriptura, Op. VIII 332-353. Junius, Theses Theol. c. 3-5. Synopsis pur. theol. disp. 2 § 29 sq. Gerhard, Loci theol. I c. 3. etc. With this difference, the question did not run about this, whether the church did not have a calling to fulfil over against Scripture. It was generally conceded that the church is of great significance for Scripture. Its testimony is of great weight and a motivum credibilitatis. The church of the first centuries possesses in its testimonies a strong support for Scripture. For every human being the church is the guide to Scripture. In this sense the word of Augustine is and remains true, that he was moved by the church to believe Scripture. Protestant theologians, Calv. Inst. I 7, 3. Polanus, Synt. p. 30. Turretinus, de S. Scr. auctoritate, disp. 3 § 13 s. Gerhard, Loci theol. I c. 3 § 51 have weakened this word of Augustine, by letting it apply only to the past, to the origin of faith. But the reasoning of Augustine t. a. p. is clear. He places his Manichaean opponent before this dilemma: you must either say to me: believe the catholic, but these precisely warn me to believe you, or do not believe the catholic, but then you also cannot appeal to the gospel over against me, quia ipsi Evangelio, catholicis praedicantibus, credidi. The church is indeed for Augustine a motive of faith, of which he here makes use over against the Manichaean. But there is a difference between motive and the final ground of faith. How he sees in the church a motive of faith [369], he elsewhere, C. Faustum lib. 32 c. 19, himself clarifies when he says: cur non potius evangelicae autoritati, tam fundatae, tam stabilitae, tanta gloria diffamatae atque ab apostolorum temporibus usque ad nostra tempora per successiones certissimas commendatae, non te subdis? Cf. de util. cred. c. 14. The church with her dignity, her power, her hierarchy etc. has always made a deep impression on Augustine. She continually moved him to faith, she supported and strengthened him in doubt and struggle, she was the firm hand that always again led him to Scripture. But thereby Augustine does not mean to say that the authority of Scripture depends on the church, that she is the last and deepest ground of his faith. Elsewhere he says clearly that Holy Scripture has authority through itself and must be believed for its own sake, Clausen, Augustinus S. Scr. interpres 1827 p. 125. Dorner, Augustinus, Berlin 1873 S. 237 f. Reuter, Augustinische Studien, Gotha 1887 S. 348 f. Schmidt, Jahrb. f. deutsche Theol. VI 235 f. Hase, Protest. Polemik 5te Aufl. Leipzig 1891 S. 81. Harnack D. G. III 70 f.

The church has and retains for every believer, right up to his death, a rich and deep pedagogical significance. The cloud of witnesses that lies around us can strengthen and encourage us in the struggle. But this is quite something different from the authority of Scripture being dependent on the church. Rome does not even dare to express this openly. The Vatican Council nevertheless also recognized the books of the O. and N. T. as canonical for this reason too, propterea quod Spiritu S inspirante conscripti Deum autorem habent and as such have been handed down to the church. And the Roman theologians make a distinction between the authority of Scripture quoad se and quoad nos. But that distinction cannot apply here. For if the church is the final and deepest ground why I believe in Scripture, then that church, and not Scripture, is αὐτοπιστος. And now one of two: Scripture contains a testimony, a doctrine about itself, about its inspiration and authority, and then the church does nothing but accept and confirm that testimony; or Scripture itself does not teach such an inspiration and authority, and then the dogma of the church about Scripture is judged for the Protestant. The Roman theologians therefore also find themselves in no small contradiction. On the one hand they attempt, in the doctrine of Scripture, to demonstrate its inspiration and authority from itself [370]; and on the other hand, having arrived at the doctrine of the church, they endeavor to weaken those proofs and to show that only the testimony of the church gives an incontrovertible certainty. If, on the contrary, the authority quoad se depends on Scripture itself, then it is also quoad nos, the final ground of our faith. The church can only acknowledge what is; it cannot make what is not. The accusation that in that way a circular reasoning is made and Scripture is proved with Scripture itself, can be thrown back upon Rome itself, since it proves the church with Scripture and Scripture with the church. If Rome remarks against that, that in the first case it uses Scripture not as God’s word but as human, credible and reliable testimony, then the Protestant theologian can also adopt this remark: first, from Scripture as reliable testimony, the inspiration is derived and thereafter, with this, Scripture as God’s word is proved. But much more significant is this, that in every field of science, and thus also in theology, the principia stand firm by themselves. The truth of a principium cannot be demonstrated, but only recognized. Principium creditur propter se, non propter aliud. Principii principium haberi non potest nec quaeri debet, Gerhard, Loc. theol. I cap. 3. Zanchius, Op. VIII 339 sq. Polanus, Synt. I cap. 23 sq. Turret. Theol. El. loc. 2 qu. 6. Trelcatius, Schol. et method. loc. comm. S. Theol. Institutio 1651 p. 26.

Scripture itself therefore also clearly teaches that not the church but the word of God, written or unwritten, is αὐτοπιστος. The church has at all times been bound to that word of God, insofar as it was there and in that form in which it existed. Israel receives the law on Horeb, Jesus and the apostles submit themselves to the O. T. Scripture, the Christian church from the beginning is bound to the spoken and written word of the apostles. The word of God is the foundation of the church, Deut. 4:1; Jes. 8:20; Ezech. 20:19; Luk. 16:29; Joh. 5:39; Ef. 2:20; 2 Tim. 3:14; 2 Petr. 1:19 etc. The church can indeed bear witness to the word, but the word stands above her. She can grant no one faith in the word of God in the heart. That the word of God alone can do, by itself and the power of the H. Spirit, Jer. 23:29; Mk. 4:28; Luk. 8:11; Rom. 1:16; Hebr. 4:12; 1 Petr. 1:23. And already by that alone it appears that the [371] church stands beneath Scripture. Therefore the church and the believers can come to know the inspiration, authority, canonicity of Scripture from itself, but they can never proclaim and establish these on their own authority. The Reformation preferred some uncertainty to a certainty that was obtained only by an arbitrary decision of the church. For Scripture indeed nowhere gives a catalogue of the books that it contains. Concerning some books there has been in the oldest Christian church and also later a difference of opinion. The text does not possess that integritas, which also Luth. and Reformed theologians so gladly wished. But nevertheless the Reformation maintained the autopisty of Scripture over against the claims of Rome, made the church subordinate to the word of God, and thereby saved the freedom of the Christian.

5. Alongside this difference between Rome and the Reformation concerning the ground of the authority of Scripture, there arose in the seventeenth century within the Protestant churches themselves yet another important struggle about the nature of that authority. On this point there was agreement, that Scripture, because it had God as its author, possessed an auctoritas divina. More precisely this authority was defined by the fact that Scripture had to be believed and obeyed by all, and was the only rule of faith and life. This definition, however, of itself led to the distinction of an auctoritas historica and an auctoritas normativa. For the revelation of God is given in the form of a history; it has passed through different times. By no means everything that is recorded in Scripture has normative authority for our faith and life. Much of what has been commanded and instituted by God, or prescribed and ordained by prophets and apostles, no longer concerns us directly and related to persons living earlier. The command to Abraham to sacrifice his son; the order to Israel to kill all Canaanites; the ceremonial and civil laws that were valid in the days of the O. T.; the determinations of the synod at Jerusalem and so much more are certainly, as history, still useful for teaching and admonition, but can and may no longer be followed by us. And not only that, but revelation in its description has recorded not only the good works of the saints but also the evil deeds of the ungodly [372]. Thus there occur in Scripture, more than once, words and actions which, though presented as historically true, are not presented as normative; so far is it from the case that these may be a rule for our faith and life, that they must rather be rejected and disapproved. Also the sins of the saints, of an Abraham, Moses, Job, Jeremiah, Peter etc., are communicated for warning, not for imitation. And finally, with many persons, with the patriarchs, Deborah, the judges, the kings, the friends of Job, Hannah, Agur, the mother of Lemuel, the poets of some psalms, such as the imprecatory psalms ps. 73:13, 14, 77:7-9, 116:11, and further with Zechariah, Simeon, Mary, Stephen etc., the question can be raised whether their words are inspired only formally, as regards their recording, or also materially, as regards their content. Voetius judged that many of these persons, such as Job and his friends, cannot be reckoned among the prophets and maintained this opinion over against Maresius, Voetius, Disp. I 31, 40-44. V 634-640. Maresius, Theologus paradoxus p. 83-87, and further Maccovius, Loci Comm. p. 31-32, Cloppenburg, de canone theol. disp. 3 Op. II 18-23. Witsius, Misc. Sacra I 316-318. Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. I 131-134. Carpzovius, Critica S. Vet. Test. I c. 2 § 3. This question did indeed have no further consequences, but was nevertheless in many respects important. It first brought clearly to consciousness that there is a distinction between word of God in a formal sense and word of God in a material sense, and compelled reflection on the relation in which both stand to one another. Now that relation was very certainly conceived by most of the above-mentioned theologians all too dualistically. The auctoritas historiae and the historia normae cannot be separated in Scripture in so abstract a manner. The formal and the material meaning of the expression word of God are far too closely connected. Even in the lying words of Satan and the evil deeds of the ungodly God has something to say to us. Scripture is not only useful for teaching but also for warning and admonition. It instructs and corrects us, both by deterring and by inciting, both by shaming and by comforting. But by that distinction it was indeed made clear that Scripture cannot and may not be conceived as a lawbook full of articles. An appeal to a text outside the context is not enough for a [373] dogma. The revelation, laid down in Scripture, is a historical and organic whole. Thus it wants to be read and explained. And therefore the dogma, which comes to us with authority and wants to be a rule for our faith and life, must be grounded on the whole organism of Scripture and derived from it. The authority of Scripture is different from that of a state law.

6. The nature and ground of the authority of Scripture, however, have been brought into discussion especially in more recent theology. In earlier times the authority of Holy Scripture rested on its inspiration and was thereby self-evidently given. But when inspiration was abandoned, the authority of Scripture was no longer maintainable. This was indeed attempted in all manner of ways, but one saw oneself compelled to conceive both the grounds and the character of the authority of Holy Scripture in an entirely different way. The authority of Scripture, insofar as it was still acknowledged, was then based on the fact that it is the authentic document of revelation; expresses the Christian idea most purely, just as water is also purest at the source; is the fulfilment of the Old Testament idea of salvation, and contains Christian doctrine completely, even if only in germ, within itself; and is the beginning and continual renewal of the Christian spirit in the congregation. These and similar considerations for the authority of Scripture can be found among theologians of the most diverse directions, such as in Scholten, L. H. K. I 78 v. Saussaye, mijne theol. van Ch. d. l. S. 53 v. Schleiermacher, Gl. § 129 f. Rothe, Zur Dogm. S. 166 f. Lipsius, Dogm. § 193 f. Biedermann, Dogm. § 193 f. Schweizer, Christl. Gl. I S. 178 f. Hofmann, Weiss. u. Erf. III 98 f. Ritschl, Rechtf. u. Vers. II 5 f. 9 f. enz. Yet all these grounds are not firm enough to bear an authority such as religion requires. They may be taken into consideration as motiva credibilitatis, but as grounds they are untenable. For, in the first place, by the distinction between revelation and its document, between the word of God and Scripture, they in fact render the authority of Scripture wholly illusory. For if not Scripture as a whole, but only the word of God in it, the religious-ethical, the revelation or whatever one wishes to call it, has authority, then each person has to determine for himself what that word of God in Scripture is, and each determines this at pleasure. The centre of gravity is transferred from the [374] object to the subject; Scripture does not criticise man, but he judges Scripture; the authority of Scripture depends on human good pleasure; it exists only insofar as one wishes to acknowledge it, and is thus wholly destroyed. But even if all these grounds could vindicate some authority for Scripture, it would nevertheless be no other than a purely historical authority. And this is insufficient in religion. Here we do not have enough with a historical, i.e. human and fallible authority. Because religion touches our salvation and is connected with our eternal interests, we can in it make do with nothing less than a divine authority. We must not only know that Scripture is the historical document for our knowledge of Christianity and that it contains and reproduces the original Christian ideas most purely; but in religion we must know that Scripture is the word and the truth of God. Without this certainty there is no comfort in life and in dying. And not only does every Christian have need of this certainty, but the church itself as an institute cannot dispense with this assurance. For if a preacher lacks the conviction of the divine truth of the word that he proclaims, his preaching loses all authority and influence and power. If he has no divine message to bring, who then gives him the right to appear before people of like movements as he? Who gives him freedom to place himself above them in the pulpit, to occupy them with the highest interests of soul and life and even to announce to them an eternal weal or an eternal woe? Who dares and who can do that, other than he who has a word of God to proclaim? The Christian faith and Christian preaching both demand a divine authority on which they rest. Titubabit fides, si divinarum scripturarum vacillat auctoritas, Aug. de doctr. christ. I 37.

Therefore it also cannot meet with approval when the nature of the authority of Scripture is described as moral. Lessing already began with that when he said that something is not true because it stands in the Bible, but that it stands in the Bible because it is true. Since his sigh for deliverance from the authority of the letter and from the paper pope, believing on authority has in all sorts of ways been made ridiculous. Christian theologians have allowed themselves to be influenced thereby [375] and have modified or contested belief in authority. Doedes e.g., Inl. tot de leer van God, 1880 bl. 29-40 wants to know nothing of believing on authority and speaks only any longer of moral authority in religion. Saussaye, mijne Theol. van Ch. d. l. S. 53 v. declares that there is no other than moral authority and that the moral is wholly authority. Intellectual authority does not exist, but moral authority is morality, religion itself. One does not believe the truth on authority, but the truth has authority, i. i. has the right that one obey it. This representation, however, suffers from confusion of concepts. The truth has authority, most certainly; no one who denies it. But the question is precisely, what in the religious domain truth is and where it is to be found. To this only a twofold answer is possible. Either on the one side: what truth is, or if one will, who Christ is, that the apostles tell us, that Scripture tells us; or on the other side: this is decided by one’s own judgment, by the reason or the conscience of each human being for himself. In the latter case there is no authority and no authority of Scripture any more; it is wholly and entirely subjected to the criticism of the subject. Then it also helps nothing, to say with Rothe, Zur Dogm. 287, that the Bible is the completely sufficient instrument, in order to arrive at a pure knowledge of God’s revelation. For every objective standard is lacking, according to which in Scripture that revelation can be assessed and found. There is indeed only one ground on which the authority of Scripture can rest, and that is its inspiration. If this falls, then it is also done with the authority of Scripture. It then contains only human writings, which as such cannot assert a single title to be norma for our faith and life. And with Scripture, for the Protestant all authority in religion falls. All attempts, then still again to find some authority or other back, e.g. in the person of Christ, in the church, in religious experience, in reason or conscience, end in disappointment, Stanton, The place of authority in matters of religious belief, London Longmans 1891. James Martineau, The seat of authority in religion, London Longmans 1891. C. A. Briggs, The authority of H. Scriptures. Inaugural address, 4 ed. New-York Scribner, 1892. L. Monod, Le problème de l’autorité, Paris Fischbacher 1892. E. Doumergue, L’autorité en matière de foi, Lausanne Payot 1892. E. Ménégoz, [376] L’autorité de Dieu, réflexions sur l’autorité en matière de foi. Paris Fischbacher 1892. G. Godet, Vinet et l’autorité en matière de foi, Revue de théol. et de philos. Mars 1893 p. 173-191. They prove only that a religion without authority cannot exist. Religion is essentially distinguished from science. It has its own certainty; not such a one that rests on insight, but that consists in faith, in trust. And this religious faith and trust can only rest in God and in his word. In religion a testimonium humanum and a fides humana are insufficient; here we have need of a testimony of God, on which we can rely in life and death. Inquietum est cor nostrum, donec requiescat in Te! Rightly, then, Harnack also says, D. G. III 73, es hat in der Welt keinen starken religiösen Glauben gegeben, der nicht an irgend einem entscheidenden Punkt sich auf eine äussere Autorität berufen hätte. Nur in den blassen Ausführungen der Religionsphilosophen oder in den polemischen Entwürfen protestantischer Theologen wird ein Glaube construirt, der seine Gewissheit lediglich den eigenen inneren Momenten entnimmt. Cf. also P. D. Chantepie de la Saussaye, Zekerheid en twijfel 1893 bl. 138 v. The right and the value of authority in religion is gradually being recognized again.

7. But, even if religion can suffice with a divine authority alone, the nature of that authority still needs to be investigated more closely. Authority is in general the power of someone who has something to say; the right to have a say in one matter or another, hence in Middle Dutch geweld, power, Woordenboek der Ned. Taal s. v. Of authority there can be mention only between unequals; it always expresses a relation of a superior to his inferior, of a higher to his lower. Because among human beings there is no equality but all kinds of distinction exist, there can among them be mention of authority. And because that inequality is so great and so manifold, authority among human beings occupies a very broad place. It is even the foundation of the entire human society. Whoever undermines it, labours at the destruction of society. Foolish and dangerous, therefore, is it to place believing on authority in a ridiculous light. Augustine already asked: Si quod nescitur credendum non est, quomodo serviant parentibus liberi eosque [377] mutua pietate diligant, quos parentes suos esse non credant....... Multa possunt afferri quibus ostendatur, nihil omnino humanae societatis incolume remanere, si nihil credere statuerimus, quod non possumus tenere perceptum, de util. cred. 12. In every domain we live by authority. Under authority we are born and brought up in family, society, and state. Parents have authority over their children, the master over his pupils, the government over its subjects. In all these cases the authority is clear. It expresses a power that by right accrues to someone over another. It therefore comes forward with commands and laws, demands obedience and submission, and in case of revolt even has a right of coercion and punishment. But we extend this concept of authority further and apply it also in science and art. Here too there is distinction of gift, and the relation of superiors and inferiors, of magistri and discipuli, arises. There are men who through their genial disposition and diligent labour have acquired mastery in one field or another, and who therefore can speak with authority in this domain. From the discoveries of these magistri the inferiors, the laymen, live and learn. Yes, because of the tremendous expansion of science, even the most excellent can be magister only in a very small domain; in all the rest he is discipulus and must trust in the research of others. This authority in science and art, however, bears another character than that of parents, teachers, and government; it is not juridical, but ethical in nature; it cannot and may not compel, it has no right of punishment. The persons who here appear with authority may be ever so distinguished and weighty; their testimony counts only insofar as they can adduce grounds for it. The authority here thus does not rest ultimately in the persons, so that an ipse dixit would be conclusive, but rests in the proofs on which their assertion is based. And because all human beings received some understanding and judgment, blind faith is here impermissible and the striving after an independent insight, insofar as necessary and possible, a duty. In history too this is the case. The knowledge of history rests actually entirely on authority, on testimonies of others; but these testimonies need not be believed blindly, but may and must be seriously examined, so that as far as possible one’s own insight may come into its right. In one [378] word, in scientiis tantum valet auctoritas humana, quantum rationes.

This concept of authority we finally also find again in religion and theology. Here authority is not needed in a lesser degree but in a much higher measure than in family and society, in science and art. Here it is a vital necessity. Without authority and faith religion and theology cannot exist for a moment. But authority here bears an entirely distinctive character. It must of course be an auctoritas divina. And already thereby it is distinguished from authority in society and state, in science and art. From the latter it differs especially in this respect, that in science and art one’s own insight may judge and decide. But with a divina auctoritas this is not in place. When God has spoken, all doubt is over. The divina auctoritas is therefore not to be called moral, at least not in the sense in which we speak of the moral ascendancy of a person, for religion is not a relation of an inferior to his superior, but of a creature to his Creator, of a subject to his Sovereign, of a child to his Father. God has the right to command man and to demand unconditional obedience from him. His authority rests in his being, not in the rationes. In so far the authority of God and of his word agrees with that of the government in the state and of the father in the family. And there is nothing degrading in it and nothing that in any way whatsoever detracts from man’s freedom, if he listens childlike to the word of God and obeys it. To believe God on his word, i.e. on authority, is just as little in conflict with man’s dignity as it dishonours a child to rely with unlimited trust on the word of his father. And so far is it from the Christian’s gradually outgrowing this authority, Schweizer, Christl. Glaub. I 186 f., that he precisely the longer the more, with denial of all his own wisdom, comes to believe God on his word. The believer never on this earth rises above the standpoint of faith and of authority. In proportion as he increases in faith, he clings the more firmly to the authority of God in his word. But on the other side there is nevertheless also a great difference between the authority of God in religion and that of a father in his family and of a government in the state. A father [379] compels his child if need be and brings it by punishment to submission; and the government does not bear the sword in vain. Compulsion is inseparable from the authority of the earthly government. But God does not compel. His revelation is a revelation of grace. And in that he comes to man not with commands and demands, with compulsion and with punishment, but with the invitation, with the admonition, with the entreaty, to let himself be reconciled with him. God could appear as Sovereign over against man. He will one day as Judge judge all who have been disobedient to the gospel of his Son. But in Christ he descends to us, becomes like us in all things, deals with us as rational and moral beings; then yet again, encountering hostility and unbelief, to resume his sovereignty, to carry out his counsel and to prepare glory for himself out of all creature. The authority with which God appears in religion is thus entirely of its own kind. It is not human but divine. It is sovereign and yet works in a moral way. It does not compel, and yet knows how to maintain itself. It is absolute and yet is resisted. It invites and entreats, and yet is invincible.

And such is also the authority of Scripture. As the word of God it stands high above all authority of men in state and society, in science and art. Before it all else must yield. For one must obey God more than men. All other authority is limited within its sphere and is valid only on its own terrain. But the authority of Scripture extends over the whole human being and over the whole of humanity. It stands above understanding and will, above heart and conscience; it is not to be compared with any other authority. Its authority is absolute, because it is divine. It has the right to be believed and obeyed by everyone at all times. In majesty it far surpasses all other power. But it calls no one to help, in order to bring itself to recognition and dominion. It does not need the strong arm of the government. It does not require the support of the church. It does not call upon the sword and the inquisition. It does not wish to rule by coercion or violence. It wishes free and willing recognition. And therefore it itself brings that about, in a moral way, through the working of the H. Spirit. Scripture watches over its own authority. Therefore formerly one also spoke of an [380] auctoritas causativa of Scripture, qua Scriptura assensum credendorum in intellectu hominis generat et confirmat, Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. § 8.

C. The necessity of Scripture.

8. In the authority of Scripture there is great agreement among the Christian churches, but in the three other, now following, properties there is important difference. Rome, on account of the relation which it assumes between Scripture and church, can neither see nor acknowledge the necessitas S. Scripturae. With Rome the church is αὐτοπιστος, self-sufficient, living out of and through the H. Spirit; it has the truth and preserves it faithfully and purely through the infallible teaching office of the pope. Scripture, on the other hand, having proceeded from the church, may be useful and good as norma, but it is not principium of the truth. It is not necessary ad esse ecclesiae. The church properly does not have Scripture, but Scripture, for its authority, supplementation, interpretation, etc., does have need of the church. The grounds for this doctrine are derived from the fact that the church before Moses and the first Christian congregation had no Scripture, and that many believers under the O. and also still under the N. Test. have never possessed and read Scripture but lived solely and only from tradition, Bellarminus, de verbo Dei IV c. 4. Heinrich, Dogm. I 735 f. Liebermann, Instit. theol. 1857 I p. 449 sq. Dieringer, Lehrb. der kath. Dogm. 4e Aufl. 633. Gutberlet, Lehrb. der Apol. III 1894 S. 221 f. Jansen. Prael. theol. I 786 sq. etc.

But not only does Rome in that way combat the necessity of Holy Scripture; all kinds of mystical movements have also weakened and failed to recognize the significance of Scripture for church and theology. Gnosticism rejected not only the O. T. but applied the allegorical method to the N. T. and thereby attempted to bring its system into agreement with Scripture. The sensible forms and historical facts have only symbolic significance; they are a clothing, which is necessary for people of a lower standpoint, but for the more highly developed, the πνευματικοι, falls away. Scripture is not a source of truth, but only a means to raise oneself to the higher standpoint of gnosis, Herzog2 5, 209 f. Harnack, D. G. I 214 f. In the [381] Montanism a new revelation appeared, which supplemented and improved that in the N. T. Montanism, especially in its moderate form in Tertullian, on the one hand wished to be nothing new and to maintain the authority of Scripture in full; and yet it greeted in Montanus a prophet, in whom the Paraclete promised by Jesus, the last and highest revelation, had appeared. Scripture in that way had to yield to the new prophecy, which was proclaimed by Montanus, Harnack, D. G. I 353 f. Herzog2 10, 258 f. The church did indeed condemn these movements, and the church fathers combated this spiritualism. Augustine wrote against it in the prologue to his book de doctrina christiana; but yet Augustine also assumed that the pious, especially the monks, could be equipped with so great a measure of faith, hope, and love, that they could dispense with Scripture for themselves and could live without it in solitude, de doctr. christ. I c. 39. Spiritualism kept recurring, and reacted against the constricting power of church and tradition. Various sects, the Cathars, Amalric of Bena, Joachim v. Floris, the brothers and sisters of the free spirit and later the Libertines in Geneva, considered that after the period of the Father and of the Son that of the Holy Spirit had arrived, in which all lived by the Spirit and no longer needed the external means of Scripture and church, Kurtz, Lehrb. der Kirchengesch. § 108, 116. Reuter, Gesch. der relig. Aufklärung im M. A. II 198 f. Herzog2 2, 677. 6, 786. 8, 652 f. Hahn, Gesch. der Ketzer im M. A. II 420 f. III 72 f. Gieseler, Kirchengeschichte, II, 2, 1826 S. 437 f. Hagenbach, Kirchengesch. in Vorlesungen II 1886 S. 480 f. Mysticism, which flourished in the Middle Ages in France and Germany, sought by means of asceticism, meditation, and contemplation to attain a communion with God which could dispense with Scripture. Scripture was indeed necessary by way of a ladder in order to climb to this height, but became superfluous when the unity with God, the visio Dei, had been attained, Herzog1 12, 427 f. Harnack, D. G. III 374 f. The Anabaptists in particular exalted the inward word at the expense of the outward. Already in 1521 the contrast was made between Scripture and Spirit, and this contrast has become a permanent characteristic of Anabaptism, Sepp, Kerkhist. Stud. 12. Holy Scripture is not the true word of God, but only a testimony and [382] description; the genuine, true word is that which is spoken by the Holy Spirit in our hearts. The Bible is only a book with letters; Bible is Babel, full of confusion; it cannot work faith in hearts, only the Spirit teaches us the true word. And if that Spirit instructs us, then we can also dispense with Scripture; it is a temporary aid but not necessary for the spiritual man, A. Hegler, Geist u. Schrift bei Sebastian Franck, Freiburg 1892. J. H. Maronier, Het inwendig woord, Amst. 1890. Vigouroux, Les livres saints et la critique rationaliste, 3e ed. I 435-453. Hans Denck already identified that inward word with natural reason, and pointed to many contradictions in Scripture. Ludwig Hetzer considered Scripture not at all necessary. Knipperdolling demanded at Munster that Holy Scripture had to be abolished and that one should live only according to nature and spirit, Herz.2 10, 362. Mysticism turned into rationalism. We see the same phenomenon later in the Anabaptist and independent sects in England, in the time of Cromwell, among the Quakers and in Pietism. The elevation of the inward above the outward word always led to identification of the instruction of the Spirit with the natural light of reason and conscience, and thus to complete rejection of revelation and Scripture. No one has therefore more sharply contested the necessity of Scripture than Lessing in his Axiomata against Goeze. He too distinguishes between letter and spirit, Bible and religion, theology and religion, the Christian religion and the religion of Jesus, and now says that the latter existed and can exist independently of the former. Religion was, after all, there before the Bible was. Christianity was there before evangelists and apostles wrote. The religion taught by them can continue to exist even if all their writings were lost. Religion is not true because evangelists and apostles taught it, but they taught it because it is true. Their writings may and must therefore be explained according to the inward truth of religion. An attack on the Bible is not yet an attack on religion. Luther has delivered us from the yoke of tradition; who will deliver us from the still much more unbearable yoke of the letter?

9. These thoughts about the non-necessity of Scripture have in more recent theology been introduced especially through Schleiermacher. [383] In his Glaubenslehre § 128, 129 he says that faith in Christ does not rest on the authority of Scripture, but precedes the faith of Scripture and precisely causes us to bestow a special esteem on that Scripture. Among the first Christians faith in Christ did not arise from Holy Scripture, and thus it cannot arise from it in our case either; for in their case and ours faith must have the same ground. Scripture is therefore not a source of religion, but indeed norma; it is the first member in the series of Christian writings, it stands closest to the source, i.e. the revelation in Christ, and thus had little danger of taking up impure constituent elements into itself. But all the writings of the evangelists and apostles, just like all subsequent Christian writings, have proceeded from one and the same Spirit, the Gemeingeist of the Christian church. The church is not built on Scripture, but Scripture has proceeded from the church. Through Schleiermacher these thoughts have become the common property of more recent theology. They seem so true and to speak so self-evidently, that no thought is given to any doubt or criticism. With almost all theologians one can find the representation that the church existed before Scripture and thus can also exist independently of it. The church rests in itself, it lives out of itself, i.e. out of the Spirit who dwells in it. Holy Scripture, in the beginning, in the freshness of its youth having proceeded from it, is indeed norma but no source. The source is the personal, living Christ, who dwells in the congregation; dogmatics is description of life, explication of the religious consciousness of the congregation, and in that has as guideline Scripture, which has interpreted that life of the congregation first and most clearly. The church is thus actually the Verfasserin der Bibel, and the Bible is the Reflex der Gemeinde, Lange, Philos. Dogm. § 77. Rothe, Zur Dogm. 333 f. Frank, Syst. der chr. Gewissheit II 57 f. Philippi, Kirchl. Glaub. I3 190 f. Hofstede de Groot, De Gron. Godg. 71 v. 97 v. Saussaye, mijne Theol. van d. l. S. 49 v. Gunning en de la Saussaye Jr. Het ethisch beginsel der theol. 34, enz.

All these ideas, of Rome, Anabaptism, mysticism, rationalism, of Lessing, Schleiermacher, etc., are most closely related to one another. Schleiermacher in particular, by his reversal of the relation between Scripture and church, has offered Rome a powerful support. All agree in this, [384] that Scripture is not necessary but at most useful, and that the church can also exist from and through itself. The difference lies only in this, that Rome seeks the ground and the possibility for this continued existence of the Christian religion in the instituted church, i.e. in the infallible pope, Schleiermacher c. s. in the congregation as organism, i.e. in the religious community, and mysticism and rationalism in the religious individuals. All seek the continued existence of the church in the guidance of the H. Spirit, in the indwelling of Christ, but this has with Rome its organ in the pope, with Schleiermacher in the organism of the congregation, with Anabaptism in every believer head for head. It is easy to see that Rome here occupies the strongest position. For certainly, there is a guidance of the H. Spirit in the congregation, Christ has risen from the dead, lives in heaven and dwells and works in his church on earth. There is a mystical union between Christ and his body. The word alone is insufficient, the principium externum also demands a principium internum. Protestantism knew all this very well and confessed it from the heart. But the question was this, whether the church for the conscious life of religion was bound to the word, to Scripture, or not. Religion is, after all, not only a matter of the heart, the feeling, the will, but also of the head. God must also be served and loved with the understanding. For the conscious life, therefore, the church must have a source from which it draws the truth. Now Rome, with its infallible pope, can assert that Scripture is not necessary. The infallibility of the church indeed makes Scripture superfluous. But Protestantism has no infallible organ, neither in the institute nor in the organism nor in the individual members of the congregation. When it denies the necessity of Scripture, it weakens itself, strengthens Rome, and loses the truth, which is an indispensable element of religion. Therefore the Reformation insisted so strongly on the necessity of Holy Scripture. Scripture was the δος μοι που στω of the Reformation. It succeeded because, over against the authority of church, councils, and pope, it could set the authority of God’s holy word. Whoever abandons this standpoint of the Reformation works unconsciously at the building up of Rome. For if not Scripture but the church is necessary for knowledge of religious truth, then this becomes the indispensable [385] medium gratiae. The word loses its central place and retains only a preparatory, pedagogical significance. Scripture may be useful and good; necessary it is not, neither for the church as a whole nor for the believers in particular.

10. Although the Reformation thus sought its strength against Rome in Scripture and maintained its necessity, it nevertheless did not thereby deny that the church for centuries before Moses had existed without Scripture. It is also true that the church of the N. T. was founded by the preaching of the apostles and for a long time existed without a New-Testament canon. Furthermore, the congregation is still always nourished and planted in the heathen world by the proclamation of the gospel. The books of the O. and N. T. have further arisen gradually; they were, before the art of printing, disseminated in small number; many believers in earlier and later time have died without ever having read and examined Scripture, and even now religious life seeks satisfaction for its needs not only in Scripture but at least equally in all manner of edifying literature. All this can be acknowledged wholeheartedly, without thereby in the least doing any injustice to the necessity of Scripture. Indeed, God, if it had pleased Him, could very certainly have preserved the church in the truth in yet another way than by means of a written word. The necessity of Scripture is not absolute but ex hypothesi beneplacentiae Dei.

But thus understood, this necessity is nevertheless raised above all doubt. Man has at all times lived only by the word that proceeds from the mouth of God, Mt. 4:4. The word of God has from the beginning been the seed of the church. Most certainly the church existed before Moses without Scripture. But there was nevertheless a verbum ἀγραφον, before it became the ἐγγραφον. The church has never lived out of itself and rested in itself, but always by the word of God. Rome does not teach this either, but assumes a tradition that infallibly preserves the word of God. But this does indeed need to be stated over against those who allow revelation to consist only in life, in an inpouring of divine powers, in the awakening of religious emotions. The church may therefore be older than the written, but it is nevertheless younger than the spoken word, Zanchius, Op. VIII [386] 343 sq. Polanus, Synt. theol. I c. 15. Synopsis pur. theol., disp. 2. Gerhard, Loci theol. I cap. 1 § 5 sq. The common assertion that the church of the N. T. existed for a long time without Scripture must also be properly understood. It is true that the canon of the N. T. writings was first generally recognized in the second half of the second century. But the Christian congregations had from the beginning the Old Testament. They have been founded by the spoken word of the apostles. Very soon many congregations came into possession of apostolic writings, which were also given to others for reading, soon served for reading aloud in the churches and very soon were disseminated. It speaks for itself that, as long as the apostles lived and visited the congregations, no distinction was yet made between their spoken and written word; tradition and Scripture were, as it were, still one. But when the first period was past and the distance from the apostles became greater, the writings of the apostles rose in significance, and their necessity gradually increased. Indeed the necessitas S. Scripturae is also not a stable but an ever growing property. Scripture was not always in its entirety necessary for the whole church. Scripture has arisen and been completed gradually. As revelation progressed, it also increased in extent. Each period of the church had enough with that portion of Scripture that then existed, just as it had enough with the revelation that had occurred up to that point. Scripture, like revelation, is an organic whole that has grown; in the seed the plant was included, in the germ the fruit was included. Both, revelation and Scripture, kept equal pace with the state of the church and conversely. Therefore no conclusion can be drawn from the earlier conditions of the church for the present. Let the church before Moses have been without Scripture, let the church before the completion of revelation never have been in possession of the whole Scripture; from that nothing follows for that dispensation of the church in which we live, in which revelation has ended and Scripture has been completed. For this dispensation Scripture is not only useful and good, but also decidedly necessary ad esse ecclesiae.

11. Scripture, however, is the only adequate means to preserve the spoken word unadulterated and to make it the property of all [387] people. Vox audita perit, littera scripta manet. The shortness of life, the unfaithfulness of memory, the cunning of the heart, and all kinds of other dangers that threaten the purity of tradition, make the recording of the spoken word absolutely necessary for preservation and dissemination. With the word of revelation this applies in an even heightened degree. For the gospel is not according to man, it stands in direct opposition to his thoughts and desires, it stands as divine truth over against his lie. Moreover, revelation is not intended for one generation and for one time, but is destined for all peoples and centuries. It must complete its course through the whole of humanity and until the end of times. The truth is one, Christianity is Universalreligion. How can this destination of the word of revelation be attained otherwise than by its being recorded and written down? The church cannot perform this service of the word. Nowhere is its infallibility promised. Always it is referred in Scripture to the objective word, to the law and the testimony. Properly speaking, even Rome itself does not assert that. The church i.e. the assembly of believers is not infallible in Rome, nor is the assembly of bishops, but only the pope. The declaration of the pope’s infallibility is a proof for the Reformation thesis of the unreliability of tradition, of the fallibility of the church, and even of the necessity of Scripture. For this declaration of infallibility implies that the truth of the word of revelation is not preserved or cannot be preserved by the church as an assembly of believers, since this too is still subject to error, but that it can only be explained from a special assistance of the H. Spirit, in which, according to Roman assertion, the pope shares. Rome and the Reformation thus agree in this, that the word of revelation in and for the church can remain purely preserved only through the institution of the apostolate, i.e. through inspiration. And the dispute runs only about this, whether that apostolate has ceased or is continued in the pope. On the other hand, the assertion of the Vermittelungstheologie is wholly untenable, that Scripture has proceeded from the church and that it thus properly is the Verfasserin der Bibel. One can assert that only if one fails to recognize the proper office of the prophets and apostles, identifies inspiration with regeneration [388] and wholly and entirely detaches Scripture from revelation. According to the doctrine of Scripture, however, inspiration is a special act of the H. Spirit, a special gift to prophets and apostles, by which they have been able to hand down the word of God purely and unadulterated to the church of all centuries. Scripture has thus not proceeded from the church, but has been given to the church by a special activity of the H. Spirit in the prophets and apostles. Scripture belongs also to the revelation which has been bestowed by God upon his people. In this Rome and the Reformation are in agreement. But the Reformation maintains over against Rome, that that special activity of the H. Spirit has now ceased, i.e. that the apostolate no longer exists and is not continued in the pope. The apostles have set down their testimony concerning Christ fully and purely in the H. Scriptures. Through these they have made the revelation of God the property of humanity. Scripture is the word of God that has completely entered into the world. It makes that word general and eternal, wrests it away from error and lie, from forgetfulness and perishability. In proportion as humanity becomes greater, life shorter, memory weaker, science more extensive, error more serious and the lie more brazen, the necessitas S. Scripturae increases. In every domain writing and the press gain in significance. The art of printing was a giant step toward heaven and toward hell. In this course of development the H. Scripture also shares. Its necessity comes to light ever more clearly. It is disseminated and made into common property as never before. Into hundreds of languages it is translated. It comes under everyone’s eye and into everyone’s hand. More and more it appears to be the suitable means to bring the truth to the knowledge of all people. That alongside this the religious literature remains for many the principal nourishment for their spiritual life, proves nothing against the necessity of the H. Scripture. For all Christian truth is nevertheless drawn directly or indirectly from it. The derived brook also receives the water from the spring. It is an untenable assertion that even now something of Christian truth would come to us outside and without the H. Scripture. In the first century such a thing was possible, but now the streams of tradition and Scripture have long since flowed together and the first has long since been absorbed into the second. [389] Rome can maintain this only through its doctrine of the continuation of the apostolate and the infallibility of the pope. But for a Protestant this is impossible. The Christian character of the truth can be demonstrated solely and only by the fact that it is rooted with all its fibers in the H. Scripture. There is no knowledge of Christ except from Scripture, no communion with Him except through communion in the word of the apostles. Cf. Ursinus, Tract. theol. p. 1 sq. Zanchius, Op. VIII 343 sq. Polanus, Synt. Theol. I c. 15. Synopsis pur. theol., disp. 2. Turretinus, Theol. El. loc. 2, qu. 1-3. Heppe, Dogm. der ev. ref. K. 25, 26 enz.

12. Even if the necessity of Scripture is acknowledged, there can nevertheless still be difference of opinion about the duration of that necessity. Even he who is of the opinion that Scripture has had its time often readily agrees that it, in its time, has been of great significance for the education of men and peoples. But in all manner of ways the duration of that necessity has been limited. Gnosticism acknowledged its necessity for the ψυχικοι but contested it for the πνευματικοι. Mysticism did indeed deem Scripture necessary at the standpoint of cogitation and meditation, but no longer at that of contemplation and visio Dei. The rationalism of Lessing and Kant assigned to revelation, Scripture, the statutory Religion a pedagogical place, in order that thereby the dominion of the Vernunftreligion might be prepared. Likewise Hegel judged that the form of intuition in religion was necessary for the people, but that the philosopher with his concepts no longer had any need of it. And time and again one hears it expressed that religion is good for the mass in order to keep them in check, but that the developed and the civilized are far exalted above that.

There lies in this conception an unmistakable and glorious truth. Revelation, Scripture, the church, the whole Christian religion indeed bears a temporal, preparatory and pedagogical character. Just as the Old Testament oeconomie of the foedus gratiae has passed away, so also this dispensation of the covenant of grace, in which we live, will once belong to the past. When Christ has gathered his church and has presented it to the Father as a pure bride, He hands over the [390] kingdom to God. Moreover, the duality of grace and nature, of revelation and reason, of authority and freedom, of theology and philosophy cannot be of eternal duration. The highest in religion after all consists in this, that we serve God without compulsion and without fear, out of love alone, according to the utterance of our own nature. It is God himself in his revelation who is concerned with forming human beings in whom his image is again fully restored. He granted us not only his Son but also the H. Spirit, in order that he would regenerate us, would write his law in our heart and would make us fit for every good work. Regeneration, sonship, sanctification, glorification are the proofs that God educates his children to freedom, to a service of love that never grieves. In so far the above-mentioned conceptions can be called an anticipation of the future ideal. But they are nevertheless of a very dangerous tendency. They all proceed from a confusion between the dispensation of the present and that of the hereafter. Because the new Jerusalem will no longer need sun and moon, both nevertheless remain necessary here on earth. Because we shall one day walk in sight, faith nevertheless remains indispensable in this dispensation. Although the militant and the triumphant church is one, there nevertheless remains a distinction in the condition and life of both. The boundary line may and can not be erased. The heavenly life we never bring here on earth. We walk by faith and not by sight. We now see through a mirror in a dark saying; only hereafter shall we see face to face and know, as we are known. The visio Dei is reserved for heaven. Independent, self-sufficient we never become on this earth. We remain bound to the cosmos that surrounds us. The standpoint of authority can never be overcome here on earth.

But furthermore this doctrine of the temporal necessity of Scripture digs a deep chasm between the psychic and the pneumatic men, between the civilized and the mass, between the philosophers and the people. And such a chasm has in no respect any right to exist. If religion consisted in knowledge, then the learned would enjoy a privilege above the undeveloped. But religiously all men are equal; they have the same needs. In Christ there is no distinction [391] of Greek and barbarian. Religion is one for all men, however different they may be in estate, rank, development, etc. for for religion, i.e. before the face of God, all those distinctions of rank and privileges are worthless, by which one among men excels above others. The separation between those two kinds of men therefore also testifies to a spiritual pride, which itself is in direct conflict with the essence of the Christian religion, with the humility, the lowliness, etc., which it demands. The publicans go before the Pharisees, and the least is in the kingdom of heaven the greatest.

Next, there would still be something to be said for this separation, if rationalism were right and revelation consisted in nothing but Vernunftwahrheiten. For then these, although provisionally known from revelation, could later be derived by thought from reason itself. But revelation has a wholly different content than a rational doctrine. It is history, has grace as its content, the person of Christ as its centre, the re-creation of humanity as its goal. All this can never be found by thought or derived from reason. In order to know such a revelation, Scripture remains necessary at all times. Even a revelation of God to every human being head by head would not be able to bestow what now the revelation in Christ through Scripture offers to all human beings. The historical character of revelation, the fact and the idea of the incarnation, and the organic view of the human race require a Scripture, in which the revelation of God is laid down for the whole of humanity (cf. blz. 299). Therefore it can now also be decided, what on bl. 143 was still left undecided, whether namely revelation comes individually to each human being or is given to all through Scripture. Just as one sun with its rays illuminates the whole earth, so Christ is the rising from on high, who appears to those who sit in darkness and shadow of death, and so the one and the same Scripture is the light on everyone’s path and the lamp for everyone’s foot. It is the word of God to the whole of humanity. History itself bears a powerful testimony for this necessity of Scripture. The highly spiritual mysticism has repeatedly turned over into the most vulgar rationalism; and the enthusiastic spiritualism has often ended in the coarsest materialism. [392] The necessitas S. Scripturae is proved negatively just as strongly from the movements that combat it, as positively from the churches that confess it.

D. The clarity of Scripture.

13. Another important property which the Reformation, over against Rome, ascribed to Scripture, was the perspicuitas. According to Rome, Scripture is obscure, Ps. 119:34, 68; Luk. 24:27; Hd. 8:30; 2 Petr. 3:16. Also in those matters which have reference to faith and life, it is not so clear that it can dispense with interpretation. For it treats of the deepest mysteries, of God, the Trinity, the incarnation, predestination, etc., and is even in the moral precepts e.g. Mt. 5:34, 40, 10:27; Luk. 12:33, 14:33 many times so unclear that misunderstanding and misconstrual has occurred at every moment in the christ. church. For a right understanding of Scripture, all manner of knowledge is also necessary of history, geography, chronology, archaeology, languages, etc., which is unattainable for the laity. The Protestants themselves therefore also write countless commentaries and, in the most important texts, diverge from one another in exegesis. Therefore an interpretation of Holy Scripture is necessary. This cannot be given by Scripture itself; Scripture cannot be its own interpreter. Already Plato, Phaedrus p. 274 said that the letter is mishandled and cannot help itself, and that it needs the help of its father. It is mute and cannot give a decision in a dispute. It is like the law, according to which the judge renders judgment, but it is not law and judge at the same time. The learned Jesuit Jakob Gretser made a deep impression at the religious colloquy at Regensburg 1601, when he spoke thus: Sumus in conspectu sacrae Scripturae et Spiritus Sancti. Pronuntiet sententiam. Et si dicat: tu Gretsere male sentis, cecidisti causa tua, tu Jacobe Heilbrunnere vicisti; tunc ego statim transibo ad vestrum scamnum. Adsit, adsit, adsit et condemnet me! Thus there must be an interpreter and a judge, who gives decision according to Scripture. If there is no such judge, then the interpretation becomes wholly subjective; each judges according to his pleasure and holds his own individual conception to be infallible. Every heretic has his letter. Everyone seeks, according to the well-known distich of Werenfels, [393] in Scripture precisely his dogmata. Scripture is delivered over to all manner of arbitrariness. Individualism, enthusiasm, rationalism, endless division is the outcome. And what is the worst, if there is no infallible interpretation, then there is also no absolute certainty of faith; the foundation on which the Christian’s hope rests is then pious opinion, scientific insight, but no divine, infallible testimony. And so far is it from the case that someone can form for himself from Holy Scripture a personal conviction or doctrine, that also the Protestants in fact just as well as the Roman Catholics live from tradition and rely on the authority of church, synods, fathers, writers, etc.

Such an infallible, divine interpretation of Scripture has, however, been bestowed by God in his church. Not the dead, uncomprehended, obscure Scripture, left to itself, but the church, the living, ever-present, always renewing itself by the Spirit, is the mediatrix of truth and the infallible interpreter of Holy Scripture. For everyone is the best interpreter of his own word. The true interpreter of Scripture is therefore the Holy Spirit, who is its author. And this one has his infallible organ in the church, or better still, in the pope. The church is, through tradition, in possession of the truth; it is led by that same Spirit who brought Scripture into being; it is akin to it; it alone can understand its sense; it is the pillar and ground of the truth. Thus it has also always been the practice. Moses, the priests, Christ, the apostles explained and decided for the congregation, Ex. 18; Deut. 17:9 v.; 2 Chr. 19:9 v.; Pred. 12:12; Hagg. 2:2; Mal. 2:7; Mt. 16:19, 18:17, 23:2; Luk. 22:32; Joh. 21:15 v.; Hd. 15:28; Gal. 2:2; 1 Cor. 12:8 v.; 2 Petr. 1:19; 1 Joh. 4:1, and popes and councils have followed that example. Therefore the Council of Trent in sess. 4 determined that no one may interpret Holy Scripture contra eum sensum, quem tenuit et tenet sancta mater ecclesiae, cujus est judicare de vero sensu et interpretatione Scripturarum Sanctarum, aut etiam contra unanimem consensum Patrum, and thereby bound exegesis not only negatively, as some Roman Catholics attempt to construe it, but very decidedly also positively. No one may give another exegesis than that which the church has given through her patres, councils, or popes. The professio fidei of Pius IV, in Denzinger, [394] Enchir. symb. et defin. n. 864 and the Vaticanum sess. 3 cap. 2 alin. 4 leave no doubt about this. But not only is, by this doctrine of the obscurity of Scripture, scientific exegesis subjected to the pope. Still more dependent and bound thereby is the layman. Scripture, on account of its obscurity, is not suitable reading for the laity. Without interpretation it is unintelligible for the people. Therefore the translating of Scripture into the vernacular and the reading of the Bible by the people, since the misuse that was made of it in the Middle Ages and later, has been more and more restricted by Rome. Reading of Scripture is not permitted to the laity except with permission of the ecclesiastical authority. The Protestant Bible societies have repeatedly been condemned by the Popes, and in the Encyclical of 8 Dec. 1864 placed on one and the same line with the socialist and communist associations, Denzinger, Enchir. n. 1566. And indeed the present pope in his Encyclical de studiis Sacrae Scripturae recommends the study of Scripture, but not to the laity, Vincentius Lerinensis, Commonitorium cap. 3. Bellarminus, de verbo Dei, lib. III. M. Canus, Loci Theol. II cap. 6 sq. Perrone, Praelect. theol. IX 98 sq. Heinrich, Dogm. I 794 f. Möhler, Symbolik § 38 f. Jansen, Prael. theol. I 771 s. Herzog2 art. Bibellesen.

14. The doctrine of the perspicuitas S. Scr. has repeatedly been misunderstood and incorrectly represented, both by Protestants and by Roman Catholics. It does not imply that the matters and subjects of which Scripture treats are not mysteries, which far surpass the human understanding. Nor does it assert that Holy Scripture is clear in all its parts, so that no scientific exegesis would be necessary. And it likewise does not mean that Holy Scripture, also in the doctrine of salvation, is plain and clear for every human being without distinction. But it includes only this, that that truth, the knowledge of which is necessary for everyone unto salvation, is not on every page of Holy Scripture equally plain, but nevertheless throughout the whole of Scripture is presented in so simple and comprehensible a form, that someone, to whom the salvation of his soul is the concern, can easily, by his own reading and investigation, learn to know that truth from Scripture, without help and guidance of church and priest. The way of salvation is there, not [395] as regards the matter but as regards the modus tradendi, clearly set down for the salvation-desiring reader. The πως may he not understand, the ὁτι is nevertheless clear, Zwingli, De claritate et certitudine verbi Dei, Op. ed. Schuler et Schulthess I 65 sq. Luther bij Köstlin, Luthers Theol. 2e Ausg. 1883 II 58 f. Zanchius, de Scr. Sacra, Op. Omnia VIII 407 sq. Chamier, Panstratia catholica 1626 Loc. 1 Lib. I cap. 13-32. Amesius, Bellarminus Enervatus. Amst. 1630, lib. 1 cap. 4 en 5. Turretinus, Theol. El. loc. 2 qu. 17. Trigland, Antapologia cap. 3. Synopsis pur. Theol. disp. 5. Gerhard, Loci Theol. Loc. 1 cap. 20 sq. Glassius, Philologia Sacra 1691 p. 186 sq.

Thus understood, perspicuitas is a property which Holy Scripture repeatedly predicates of itself. The thora has been given by God to all Israel, and Moses conveys all the words of the Lord to the whole people. The law and the word of the Lord is not far from any of them, but is a light on the path and a lamp for the foot, Deut. 30:11; Ps. 19:8, 9, 119:105, 130; Spr. 6:23. The prophets address themselves, speaking and writing, to the whole people, Jes. 1:10 v., 5:3 v., 9:1, 40:1 v.; Jer. 2:4, 4:1, 10:1; Ezech. 3:1. Jesus speaks openly to all the crowds, Mt. 5:1, 13:1, 2, 26:55, etc. and the apostles write to all the called saints, Rom. 1:7; 1 Cor. 1:2; 2 Cor. 1:1 etc., and themselves provide for the dissemination of their letters, Col. 4:16. The written word is recommended to all for examination, Joh. 5:39; Hd. 17:11 and is precisely written in order to bestow faith, patience, hope, consolation, doctrine, etc., Joh. 20:31; Rom. 15:4; 2 Tim. 3:16; 1 Joh. 1:1 v. Of a withholding of Scripture from the laity there is nowhere any mention. The believers are themselves of age and able to judge, 1 Cor. 2:15, 10:15; 1 Joh. 2:20; 1 Petr. 2:9. The words of God are entrusted to them, Rom. 3:2. The church fathers therefore also know nothing of the obscurity of Scripture in the later Roman sense. To be sure, they often speak of the depths and mysteries of Holy Scripture, cf. passages in Bellarm. de verbo Dei III c. 1.; but they just as often extol its clarity and simplicity. Thus Chrysostom says, hom. 3 de Lazaro, when he compares the writings of the prophets and apostles with those of the philosophers: Οἱ δε ἀποστολοι και οἱ προφηται τοὐναντιον ἁπαν ἐποιησαν· σαφη γαρ και δηλα τα παρ’ αὐτων [396] κατεστησαν ἁπασιν, ἁτε κοινοι της οἰκουμενης ὀντες διδασκαλοι, ἱνα ἑκαστος και δι’ ἑαυτου μανθανειν δυνηται ἐκ της ἀναγνωσεως μονης τα λεγομενα. And elsewhere, hom. 3 in 2 Thess. he says: παντα σαφη και εὐθεα τα παρα ταις θειαις γραφαις, παντα τα ἀναγκαια δηλα. Likewise we read in Augustine, de doctr. chr. 2, 6: nothing is drawn from those obscurities which is not found said elsewhere most fully, and ibid. 9: in those things which are clearly handed down in the scriptures, all things are found which contain faith and morals of living. Also well known is the word of Gregory I, in which he compares Scripture to a fluvius planus et altus, in quo et agnus ambulet et elephas natet. Even now Roman theologians must still acknowledge that much in Holy Scripture is so clear that the believer can not only understand it, but also the unbeliever, rejecting the clear sense, is inexcusable, Heinrich, Dogm. I 819. The church fathers therefore also did not think of forbidding the reading of Scripture to the laity. On the contrary, they repeatedly urge examination of the Holy Scriptures, and relate the blessing which they themselves received from the reading, Vigouroux, Les livres saints et la critique rationaliste, 3 ed. I 280 s. Gregory I still recommended the reading of Scripture to all laymen, Herzog2 2, 376. The restriction of Bible reading arose only when, since the twelfth century, various sects began to appeal to Scripture against the church. The opinion then gained entrance that the Bible reading of the laity was the principal source of heresy. In self-defense Rome then, more and more, taught the obscurity of Scripture and bound its reading to the permission of the ecclesiastical authority.

15. Indeed, the churches of the Reformation over against Rome have no more powerful weapon than Scripture. It deals the deadliest blows to ecclesiastical tradition and hierarchy. The doctrine of the perspicuitas S. Scr. is one of the firmest bulwarks of the Reformation. It most certainly brings its serious dangers with it. Protestantism is hopelessly divided by it. Individualism has developed at the expense of the sense of community. The free reading and investigation of Scripture is and is being misused in the most shocking way by all kinds of parties and directions. But still the disadvantages do not outweigh the advantages [397]. For the denial of the clarity of Scripture entails the subjection of the layman to the priest, of the conscience to the church. With the perspicuitas S. Scr. falls the freedom of religion and conscience, of church and theology. It alone is able to maintain the freedom of the Christian man; it is origin and guarantee of the religious and also of the political freedoms, Stahl, Der Protest. als polit. Princip. 2e Aufl. 1853. Saussaye, Het Protest. als politiek beginsel, Rott. 1871. Kuyper, Het Calvinisme, oorsprong en waarborg onzer constitutioneele vrijheden, Amst. 1874. And a freedom that cannot be obtained and possessed otherwise than with the danger of licentiousness and arbitrariness, is always still to be preferred above a tyranny that suppresses all freedom. God himself, at the creation of man, chose this way of freedom, which brought with it the danger and in reality also the fact of sin, above that of forced submission. And still He follows in the government of world and church this royal way of freedom. That is precisely His honor, that He nevertheless through freedom reaches His goal, creates order out of disorder, light out of darkness, cosmos out of chaos. Both, Rome and the Reformation, agree in this, that the H. Spirit alone is the true interpreter of the word, Mt. 7:15, 16:17; Joh. 6:44, 10:3; 1 Cor. 2:12, 15, 10:15; Phil. 1:10, 3:13; Hebr. 5:14; 1 Joh. 4:1. But Rome thinks that the H. Spirit teaches infallibly only through the pope; the Reformation believes that the H. Spirit dwells in the heart of every believer; every child of God has the anointing of the Holy One. It therefore gives Scripture into everyone’s hand, translates and disseminates it and uses in the church no other than the vernacular. Rome boasts of her unity, but this unity seems greater than it is. The splitting of the Reformation into a Lutheran and Reformed has its analogy in the schism of the Greek and Latin church. Under the appearance of an external unity there is hidden in Rome an almost equally great internal division. The number of unbelievers and indifferent persons is not smaller in Roman countries than in Protestant. Rome has been no more able to stem the stream of unbelief than the churches of the Reformation. Already before the Reformation unbelief had spread in wide circles, e.g. in Italy. The Reformation did not call this forth [398], but rather checked it and roused Rome itself to vigilance and combat. Cartesius, the father of rationalism, was Roman. The German rationalists are counterbalanced by the French materialists; Rousseau by Voltaire, Strauss by Renan. The Revolution has struck its deepest roots and borne its most bitter fruits in Roman countries. Furthermore, it remains to be seen whether the number of parties, directions, and sects that repeatedly arise would not be just as great in Rome as in Protestantism, if Rome did not have the power and the courage to suppress every direction by censorship, ban, interdict, if need be by the sword. It is truly not thanks to Rome that so many flourishing Christian churches have arisen alongside her. Whatever shadow-sides the division of Protestantism also has, it nevertheless also proves that religious life here is a power that repeatedly creates new forms for itself and, amid all diversity, nevertheless also reveals a deeper unity again. And in any case, Protestantism with its division is to be preferred above the dreadful superstition in which the people in the Greek and in the Roman church are becoming more and more entangled. Marian service, veneration of relics, image-worship, adoration of saints increasingly displace the service of the one, true God. Cf. Trede, Das Heidenthum in der römischen Kirche, Gotha, Perthes, 4 Theile 1889-92.

16. Because of this perspicuitas, Scripture also has the facultas se ipsam interpretandi and is se supremus judex controversiarum, Synopsis pur. theol. disp. 5 § 20 sq. Polanus, Synt. Theol. Lib. I c. 45. Turret. Theol. El. Loc. II qu. 20. Amesius, Bellarm. enervatus Lib. I c. 5. Cloppenburg, De Canone Theol. disp. 11-15. Op. II 64 sq. Moor, Comm. in Markii Comp. I 429 sq. Gerhard, Loci Theol. Loc. I c. 21, 22. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. 6e Aufl. S. 42 f. Scripture interprets itself, the obscure passages are explained by the clear, and the fundamental thoughts of Scripture as a whole serve to elucidate the parts. That was the interpretatio secundum analogiam fidei, which was also advocated by the Reformed. The Reformers too did not come to Scripture voraussetzungslos. They adopted the doctrine of Scripture, the apostolic creed, the decisions of the first councils almost without criticism. [399] They were not revolutionary and did not want to begin from the start, but protested only against the errors that had crept in. The Reformation was not the liberation of the natural man, but of the Christian man. There was therefore from the beginning among the Reformers an analogia fidei, in which they themselves stood, and according to which they interpreted Scripture. Under that analogia fidei they originally understood the sense derived from the clear passages of Holy Scripture itself, which was then later set down in the confessions, Voetius Disp. V 9 sq. 419 sq. Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. I 436. VI praefatio. Turret., Theol. El. I qu. 19. Philippi, Kirchl. Gl. I 217 f. Zöckler, Handbuch I 663 f. Luz, Hermeneutik 154-176. In connection with that, the church also had a calling with respect to the interpretation of Holy Scripture. By virtue of the potestas doctrinae, granted to her by Christ, and the gift of interpretation, bestowed on her by the Holy Spirit, 1 Cor. 14:3, 29; Rom. 12:6; Ef. 4:11 v. the church has the duty, not only to preserve Scripture, but also to interpret and defend it, and to formulate the truth in her confession and to detect and resist errors. The church too is thus within her circle and on her terrain judex controversiarum, and has to test every opinion by and to judge it according to Holy Scripture. She need not be infallible for that, for the judge in the state too is indeed bound to the law, but is fallible in his pronouncements. And so it is also in the church. Scripture is norma, the church is judge. But here too there is a higher appeal. Rome denies this and says that the pronouncement of the church is the last and highest. From it even an appeal to the divine judgment is no longer possible. She binds in the conscience. But the Reformation maintained that a church, however venerable, could nevertheless err. Her interpretation is not magisterialis, but ministerialis. She can bind in the conscience only insofar as someone acknowledges her as divine and infallible. Whether she indeed corresponds with God’s word, no earthly power can determine, but each can determine only for himself, Synopsis pur. theol. 5, 25 sq. The church can then cast someone out as a heretic, but he stands and falls in the end his own lord. The simplest believer can and may, with Scripture in hand, if need be oppose an entire church, as Luther did against Rome. Only thus is the freedom of the Christian, and at the same time the sovereignty [400] of God, maintained. From Scripture there is no higher appeal. It is the highest court. No power or pronouncement stands above it. It is that which in the end, for each in his conscience, decides. And therefore it is judex supremus controversiarum.

E. The sufficiency of Scripture.

17. Finally, by the Reformation there was also confessed the perfectio or sufficientia S. Scripturae. The Roman church thinks that Scripture is imperfect in partibus and must be supplemented by tradition. It declared at Trent, sess. 4, that it traditiones ipsas, tum ad fidem tum ad mores pertinentes, tanquam vel ore tenus a Christo vel a Sp. So. dictatas et continua successione in Ecclesia Catholica conservatas, pari pietatis affectu et reverentia suscipit et veneratur, and stated in the Vatic. sess. 3 cap. 2, that supernatural revelation is contained in libris scriptis et sine scripto traditionibus, quae ipsius Christi ore ab Apostolis acceptae, aut ab ipsis Apostolis Spiritu Sancto dictante quasi per manus traditae ad nos usque pervenerant. The grounds which Rome adduces for this doctrine of tradition are various. First it is pointed out that the church before Moses was entirely without Scripture and that also after that time until today many believers live and die without ever reading or investigating Scripture. By far the most children of God live from tradition and know little or nothing of Scripture. It would also be strange if this were different in the religious and ecclesiastical sphere than in every other domain. For, in law and custom, in art and science, in family and society tradition is the bearer and the nourisher of our life. Through it we are connected to the forefathers, take over their treasures and also leave them behind again to our children. The analogy already demands that there also be a tradition in the church; but this must here be so much more glorious and more certain than elsewhere, because Christ has given the Holy Spirit to his church and through him leads his congregation infallibly in all truth, Mt. 16:18, 28:20; Joh. 14:16. In addition there come still many statements of Scripture which acknowledge the right and the value of tradition, Joh. 16:12, 20:30, 21:25; Hd. 1:3; 1 Cor. 11:2, 23; 2 Thess. 2:14; 1 Tim. 6:20; 2 Joh. 12; 3 Joh. 13, 14. Jesus has orally and through [401] his Spirit taught his disciples still many things, which have not been described by them but have been propagated from mouth to mouth. Church fathers, councils, popes have also recognized such an apostolic tradition from the beginning. In fact the church still always lives from and out of this oral, living tradition. Scripture alone is insufficient. For apart from the fact that by no means everything has been recorded, various writings of prophets and apostles have also been lost. The apostles did indeed receive a command to bear witness, but not to do that in writing. They came to writing only through the circumstances, necessitate quadam coacti; their writings are therefore also mostly occasional writings, and contain by no means everything that is needed for the doctrine and the life of the church. Thus we find in Scripture little or nothing of the baptism of women, the Sunday celebration, the episcopate, the sevenfold sacraments, purgatory, the immaculate conception of Mary, the salvation of many Heathens in the days of the O. T., the inspiration and canonicity of the various Bible books etc.; yes, even dogmata such as of the Trinity, the eternal generation, the procession of the H. G., infant baptism etc. are not literally and in so many words to be found in Scripture. In one word: Scripture is useful, but tradition is necessary, Bellarminus, de Verbo Dei, lib. IV. Melchior Canus, Loci theol. lib. 3. Perrone, Praelect. Theol. IX 228 sq. Klee, Dogm. I 277 f. Heinrich, Dogm. Theol. II S. 1 f. Jansen, Praelect. theol. dogm. I 788 sq. Möhler, Symbolik § 38 f. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit 2e Aufl. I 72 f. Dieringer, Dogm. § 126. Liebermann, Instit. theol. I p. 448 sq. For the Greek church, Kattenbusch, Confessionskunde I 292.

18. Over against this Roman doctrine of tradition the Reformation set that of the perfection and sufficiency of Holy Scripture. The good right of this combating of Rome has been set in a clear light by the development of the concept of tradition itself. The first Christian congregations were, just as even now the congregations among the Heathen, founded by the preached word. The doctrine and usages which they had received from the apostles or their companions propagated itself for a considerable time from mouth to mouth and from generation to generation. This concept of tradition was clear; it designated the [402] doctrine and usages which had been received from the apostles and were preserved and propagated in the churches. But in proportion as the distance became greater which separated the churches from the apostolic time, it became more and more difficult to determine whether something was really of apostolic origin. The African church therefore protested against the exaggerated value which, especially in the second half against Gnosticism, was attached to this tradition. Tertullianus, de virg. vel. c. 1 said: Dominus noster veritatem se, non consuetudinem cognominavit. Likewise Cyprianus, Epist. 74 over against the tradition to which the bishop of Rome appealed, set the texts Jes. 29:13; Mt. 15:9; 1 Tim. 6:3-5 and said: consuetudo sine veritate vetustas erroris est. Christ has not called himself custom but the truth. The former must yield to this. Therefore it became necessary to define tradition more precisely and to state its characteristics. Vincentius Lerinensis found in his Commonitorium cap. 2 the criteria of an apostolic tradition in this, that something ubique, semper et ab omnibus creditum est. Hoc est etenim vere proprieque catholicum. At first the mark of tradition thus consisted in this, that it was of apostolic origin. Now there is added to it, that something in that case may be regarded as of apostolic origin, if it is truly general, catholic. The apostolicitas becomes knowable by the universitas, antiquitas and consensio. The Tridentinum, the Vaticanum and also the theologians, in the definition of tradition, attach themselves to these criteria of Vincentius. But in substance there is deviation; the consequence led further. It was not maintainable that something was apostolic only when it was really always, everywhere and by all believed. Of what doctrine or of what usage could such an absolute catholicity be demonstrated? The three criteria have thus gradually been weakened. The church may indeed not declare something new to be dogma and must hold to the tradition, but the preservation of that tradition is not to be thought mechanically as of a treasure in the field, but organically as Mary preserved and pondered the words of the shepherds in her heart, Heinrich, II 12. A truth can thus very well earlier not have been believed, or not generally believed; it is nevertheless infallible apostolic tradition, when it is now only generally believed. The two criteria antiquitas and universitas are thus not copulative but distributive [403] marks of tradition; they are not both together and at the same time necessary, one of the two is enough. In fact, thereby the antiquitas has been sacrificed to the universitas. But also this latter is again limited. The question arose, who the organ for the preservation and for the recognition of tradition was. The church in general could not be this. Möhler, Symbolik, 6e Aufl. 357, did indeed still identify tradition with das fortwährend in den Herzen der Gläubigen lebende Wort, but this answer was thought much more Protestant than Roman. The task, to preserve and to determine the doctrine, could and might not be assigned to the church in general, i.e. to the laity. In the church a distinction is to be made between the ecclesia audiens and docens. Both do indeed belong together, and are imperishable, but the first possesses only an infallibilitas passiva, i.e. it is only infallible in its believing, in that it and so long as it remains in connection with the ecclesia docens. But also this latter is again not the proper organ of doctrine. Gallicanism, the Old-episcopal clergy and the Old Catholics have remained standing here, and ascribe infallibility to the bishops collectively. But this standpoint is untenable. When are those bishops infallible? Outside of, or only in, the council? If the latter, are they only infallible if they are unanimous, or is only the majority infallible? How great must this be? Is one vote of majority sufficient? Is the council without, and even over against, or only in agreement with the pope infallible? All questions with which Gallicanism was in serious embarrassment. The papal system therefore went a step further and ascribed infallibility to the pope. This primacy of the pope is the product of a development of many centuries, the consequence of a direction of mind which was already very early present in the church. Gradually the pope has been regarded as the infallible organ of divine truth and thus also of tradition. Bellarminus, de Verbo Dei, lib. 4 c. 9 included among the marks of tradition also this rule: id sine dubio credendum esse, ex apostolica traditione descendere, quod pro tali habetur in illis ecclesiis, ubi est integra et continuata successio ab Apostolis. Now there were, he says further, in antiquity many such churches besides Rome. At present, however, it is only left in Rome. And therefore ex testimonio hujus solius ecclesiae [404] a certain argument can be taken to prove Apostolic traditions. The church of Rome determines and decides what apostolic tradition is. Later theologians, especially among the Jesuits, have developed this further. And on 18 July 1870, in the fourth session of the Vatican council, infallibility was openly proclaimed as dogma. Now it is indeed certain that the pope in this his infallibility is not thought apart from the church, especially not from the ecclesia docens. Further, the symbols, decrees, liturgies, patres, doctores and the whole history of the church are so many monuments of tradition, to which the pope, in the determination of a dogma, attaches himself and with which he has to take account. But nevertheless tradition is formally not identical with the content of all those monuments. Tradition is infallible; but what tradition is, is in the last instance decided only by the pope, with, without, or if need be against the church and the councils. The assessment whether and to what extent something semper, ubique et ab omnibus has been believed cannot rest with the church, neither with the ecclesia audiens nor with the ecclesia docens, but rests of itself only with the infallible pope. If the pope proclaims a dogma, then it is eo ipso apostolic tradition. The criterion of tradition has thus successively been sought, in apostolicity, in catholicity, in episcopal succession, in papal decision. Therewith the end has been reached. The infallible pope is the principium formale of Romanism. Roma locuta, res finita. Pope and church, pope and Christianity are one. Ubi Papa, ibi ecclesia, ibi religio Christiana, ibi Spiritus. From the pope there is no higher appeal, not even to God. Through the pope God himself speaks to humanity, Perrone I 229, IX 279. Jansen I 804, 822 s. 829. Heinrich I 726 note, II 148 f. 537. Maistre, du Pape, Oeuvres Choisies de Joseph de Maistre III, Paris z. j. 71.

This outcome of the course of development of tradition demonstrates the falsity of the principle that was at work in it from the beginning. The infallibility of the pope can only later, in the doctrine of the church, be treated at length. But it is clear that the good and true element, for the sake of which in the first centuries it was a matter of maintaining tradition, has been entirely lost. Then it was a matter of preserving that which, by virtue of apostolic institution, was believed and customary in the congregations. It was self-evident that one [405] then attached great weight to tradition and did not yet see the indispensability and necessity of the apostolic writings. But the mark of apostolicity, which then of itself was proper to tradition, had to disappear when one became further removed from the apostolic time. The relative independence of tradition alongside Scripture disappeared more and more. The streams of Scripture and tradition flowed together. And soon after the death of the apostles and their contemporaries it became impossible to demonstrate anything as of apostolic origin otherwise than by an appeal to the apostolic writings. Of no single dogma that the Roman church confesses outside of and without Scripture is the apostolic origin to be proven. The doctrine of tradition at Rome serves only to justify the deviations from Scripture and from the apostles. Veneration of Mary, the sevenfold number of sacraments, papal infallibility, etc., those are the dogmas which cannot do without tradition. At an ill-chosen hour apostolic tradition has been identified with ecclesiastical customs and with papal decisions. Tradition is at Rome die gemeine Superstition, das Heidenthum, Harnack D. G. III 559 noot.

19. In fact, by this doctrine of tradition the Scripture is deprived of all its authority and power. The Roman Catholics predicate infallibility of both, Scripture and tradition (pope), but acknowledge that there nevertheless exists a great distinction between the two. In both, indeed, the cause of infallibility is sought in a special, supernatural operation of the H. Spirit; for Rome understands very well that the infallibility of tradition cannot be derived from the believers as such, from the power and the spirit of Christianity, which dwells and works in the believers. For there occur in the church and among the believers many errors, which often prevail for a long time and carry many along. The infallibility of the pope is therefore, just as much as that of Scripture, explained from an extraordinary operation of the H. Spirit on the basis of Mt. 16:18, 28:20; Joh. 14:16 v., 15:26, 16:12 v. Concil. Vatic. sess. 3. But there is nevertheless a distinction. The activity of the H. Spirit in the apostles consisted in revelation and inspiration: that in the pope consists in assistance. The Vaticanum cap. 4 says: neque enim Petri successoribus [406] Spiritus Sanctus promissus est, ut eo revelante novam doctrinam patefacerent, sed ut eo assistente, traditam per Apostolos revelationem seu fidei depositum sancte custodirent et fideliter exponerent. Scripture is therefore the word of God in the proper sense, inspired, at least according to many theologians, even down to the singula verba; the decisions of councils and popes are words of the church, which purely reproduce the truth of God. Scripture is the word of God, tradition contains the word of God. Scripture preserves the words of the apostles in their original form, tradition reproduces the doctrine of the apostles only as regards the substance. The books of the prophets and apostles are often written without investigation, only from revelation; but with the assistentia divina, promised to the church, the persons are always themselves active, investigate, deliberate, judge, decide. With inspiration the activity of the Spirit was in the strict sense supranatural, but with assistance it often consists in a complex of cares of Providence, by which the church is preserved from error. And finally, inspiration in Scripture extends to all matters, also of history, chronology, etc., but by the assistance of the H. G. the pope is infallible only when he speaks ex cathedra, i.e. as Pastor and Doctor of Christendom, and when he doctrinam de fide vel moribus ab universa ecclesia tenendam definit. Scripture thus has at Rome still some praerogatives above tradition, Bellarminus, de Conciliis et Ecclesia, lib. 2 c. 12. Heinrich, I 726 f. II 220-245. Jansen, I 616.

But in fact tradition does great detriment to Scripture. In the first place Trent determines that Scripture and tradition must be venerated pari pietatis affectu et reverentia. Subsequently the inspiration of Holy Scripture is by most Roman theologians conceived as an inspiratio realis, so that not the singula verba but the things have been inspired. Further, infallibility quoad formam and quoad substantiam are so closely connected the one with the other, that the boundary line between both cannot be drawn. Further, the pope in the strict sense is infallible only in matters of faith and life, but in order to be able to be this, he must also be so in the judgment concerning the sources of faith and in interpretation, i.e. in the determination of what Scripture and tradition is, in the determination of the authority of the church fathers, of the councils etc.; in the judgment concerning the errors and heresies and even of the [407] facta dogmatica, in the prohibition of books, in matters of discipline, in approbation of orders, in canonization of saints etc. Heinrich, II 557 f. And even if the pope is not in all the other things in the strict sense infallible, his power and authority nevertheless also extends over all things, quae ad disciplinam et regimen ecclesiae pertinent, and this potestas is plena and suprema and extends over all pastores and fideles, Conc. Vatic. cap. 3. Indeed by many Romanists it is demanded that the pope, in order to be able to exercise this spiritual sovereignty, must be a temporal prince; and it is asserted that he, if not directly, yet indirectly possesses the summa potestas disponendi de rebus temporalibus omnium christianorum, Bellarm. de Romano Pontifice lib. 5. de Maistre, du Pape, livre 2. Jansen. I 651 sq. The power and authority of the pope goes far beyond that of Scripture. He stands above it, judges concerning its content and its meaning and establishes auctoritate sua the dogmata of doctrine and life. Scripture may be the principal means to point out the agreement of contemporary doctrine and tradition with the doctrine of the apostles; it may contain much which otherwise would not be known so well; it may be a divine instruction of doctrine, which surpasses all others, Heinrich, I 732 f.; it is nevertheless always for Rome only an aid, which is useful but not necessary. The church existed before Scripture, and the church contains not a part but the full truth, Scripture however contains only a portion of doctrine. Scripture does indeed have need of tradition, the confirmation of the pope, but tradition not of Holy Scripture. Tradition is not a supplement of Scripture, but Scripture is a supplement of tradition. Scripture alone is insufficient, but tradition alone is indeed sufficient. Scripture rests on the church, but the church rests in itself, Heinrich, I 730 f.

20. The development of tradition into papal infallibility and the necessarily resulting degradation of Scripture already in itself proves the good right of the Reformation to rise up against tradition. However, it did not leave it at attack alone, but set over against the doctrine of Rome that of the perfectio or sufficientia Scripturae, Luther in Köstlin, Luthers Theol. 2e Ausg. 1883 II 56 f. 246 f. Gerhard, Loci theol. loc. I c. 18. 19. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. § 9. Calv. Inst. [408] IV c. 10. Polanus, Synt. Theol. I c. 46. 47. Zanchius, Op. VIII col. 369 sq. Ursinus, Tract. Theol. 1584 p. 8 sq. 22 sq. Chamier, Panstratia Cathol. Loc. 1 lib. 8 en 9. Amesius, Bellarminus enervatus, Lib. I c. 6. Turret., Theol. El. loc. 2 qu. 16. Heppe, Dogm. der ev. ref. K. p. 11 f. Holtzmann, Kanon und Tradition, Ludwigsb. 1859. A. W. Dieckhoff, Schrift und Tradition, Rostock 1870. J. L. Jacobi, Die kirchl. Lehre von der Tradition u. h. Schrift, 1 Abth. Berlin 1847. P. Tschackert, Evang. Polemik gegen die röm. Kirche, Gotha 1885 § 23 f. Id. art. Tradition in Herzog2. Hase, Protest. Polemik, 5te Aufl. Leipzig 1891 S. 77 f. Harnack, Dogm. Gesch. III 593 f. 623 f. Hodge, Syst. Theol. I 104 etc. This property of Holy Scripture too must be well understood. It is not thereby asserted that all that was spoken or written by the prophets, by Christ, and by the apostles has been included in Scripture; for many prophetic and apostolic writings have been lost, Num. 21:14; Jos. 10:13; 1 Kon. 4:33; 1 Chron. 29:29; 2 Chron. 9:29, 12:15; 1 Cor. 5:9; Col. 4:16; Phil. 3:1, and Jesus and the apostles certainly spoke many more words and did signs than are described, Joh. 20:30; 1 Cor. 11:2, 14; 2 Thess. 2:5, 15, 3:6, 10; 2 Joh. 12; 3 Joh. 14 etc. Nor does this property imply that Holy Scripture contains all usages, ceremonies, provisions, and regulations which the church needs for her organization; but only that it contains the fidei articuli completely, the res necessariae ad salutem. And then this property also does not include that these articuli fidei are literally and with so many words, αὐτολεξει and totidem verbis, comprised in it, but only that they are contained in Scripture either explicite or implicite in such a way that, without the help of another source, they can be derived from it solely by comparative investigation and by reflection. And finally this perfectio S. Scr. is not to be understood as if Holy Scripture has always been the same quoad gradum. In the different times of the church, Scripture, up to its completion, was unequal in extent. But in every time that word of God, which existed unwritten or written, was also sufficient for that time. The Reformation too made a distinction between a verbum ἀγραφον and ἐγγραφον, Ned. geloofsbel. art. 3. But Rome accepts both alongside each other, and holds them to be species of one genus; [409] the Reformation sees in this distinction only one and the same word of God, which first existed for a time unwritten and was thereafter recorded. The dispute between Rome and the Reformation therefore runs only over this, whether now, after Scripture has been completed, there still exists alongside it another word of God in unwritten form, in other words whether the written word of God explicite or implicite contains all that which we need to know for our salvation, and thus is regula totalis et adaequata fidei et morum, or whether alongside it in religion and theology still another principium cognoscendi must be assumed. But thus posed, this question seems hardly any longer susceptible of a twofold answer. The Roman church too acknowledges that Scripture is completed, that it forms an organic whole, that the canon is closed. However highly it also esteemed tradition, it has nevertheless in theory not yet ventured to place the decisions of the church on one line with Scripture. It still makes a distinction between verbum Dei and verbum ecclesiae. But how can the insufficiency of Scripture ever be taught, so long as one is in earnest with the verbum Dei? Church fathers did not think of it and clearly express the complete sufficiency of Holy Scripture. Irenaeus, adv. haer. III praef. and cap. 1 says that we know the truth through the apostles, per quos Evangelium pervenit ad nos, quod quidem tunc praeconaverunt, postea vero per Dei voluntatem in Scripturis nobis tradiderunt fundamentum et columnam fidei nostrae futuram. Tertullianus, adv. Hermog. c. 22, de carne Chr. c. 8 admires the plenitudo Scripturae, and rejects everything quod extra Scripturam is. Augustinus, Sermo de Past. c. 11 testifies: quidquid inde audieritis, hoc vobis bene sapiat; quidquid extra est respuite. And likewise many others speak, cf. the places collected by Chamier, Panstratia Cathol. Loc. I lib. 8 cap. 10. Alongside that they very certainly also acknowledge tradition, but they take up into it precisely an element that undermines their conviction of the sufficiency of Scripture and has ended in the later Roman doctrine of the insufficientia S. Scr. and of the sufficientia traditionis. Both, Scripture and tradition, are not to be maintained alongside each other; what is withheld from the one is bestowed upon the other. Tradition can only rise if and insofar as Scripture declines. It is therefore also very strange that Rome on the one hand holds Scripture to be completed and the canon to be [410] closed, indeed even recognizes Scripture as the word of God; and yet regards that Scripture as insufficient and supplements it with tradition. Many Roman theologians today rightly say that Scripture is the not necessary but at most useful supplement of tradition.

21. But this doctrine is in direct conflict with Scripture itself. Never is the church in O. and N. T. referred to anything other than the word of God, always at hand, whether written or unwritten. Only by that can man live spiritually. In the Scripture always present the church finds all that it needs. The following Scriptures presuppose the preceding, attach themselves to them, and are built upon them. The prophets and psalmists presuppose the thora. Isaiah in chap. 8:20 calls all to the law and the testimony. The N. T. regards itself as fulfilment of the Old, and points back to nothing other than the existing Scripture. Still more strongly speaks the fact that everything that lies outside Scripture is excluded as decisively as possible. Traditions are rejected as commandments of men, Jes. 29:13; Mt. 15:4, 9; 1 Cor. 4:6. The tradition, which arose in the days of the O. Test., has led the Jews to rejection of the Christ. Jesus sets over against it his I say unto you, Mt. 5 and precisely again, over against the Pharisees and scribes, joins himself to the law and the prophets. The apostles appeal only to the O. T. Scripture and never refer the churches to anything other than the word of God, which has been proclaimed by them. In so far as tradition in the first time wished to be nothing other than preservation of what had been personally taught and instituted by the apostles, it also as yet bore no dangerous character. But from that the Roman tradition has degenerated altogether. It is unprovable that there is still any doctrine or any usage originating from the apostles, except in so far as this can be demonstrated from their writings. The tradition at Rome, from which the mass, the Mariolatry, the papal infallibility etc. has proceeded, is nothing but the sanction of the factual condition of the Roman church, the justification of the superstition that has forced its way in within it.

From the sufficiency of Holy Scripture there further also follows from the nature of the N. T. dispensation. Christ has become flesh and has [411] accomplished all the work. He is the last and highest revelation of God. He has declared the Father to us, Joh. 1:18, 17:4, 6. Through Him God has spoken to us in the last days, Hebr. 1:1. He is the highest, the only prophet. Even the Vatic. Council cap. 4 acknowledges that the assistentia divina, bestowed upon the pope, did not consist in revelatio and in revelation of a new doctrine. And Rome attempts to demonstrate its dogmata, however new, yet always as much as possible from Holy Scripture, and to present them as development and explication of what is present in germ in Scripture, Lombardus, Sent. III dist. 25. Thomas S. Theol. II 2 qu. 1 art. 7. qu. 174 art. 6. Schwane, Dogmengeschichte I 2e Aufl. 1892 S. 7 f. Heinrich II 23 f. But by that it entangles itself in no small difficulty. For either the dogmata are all, in the same sense as e.g. the Trinity, the two natures of Christ, etc., explication of moments that are contained in Scripture, and in that case tradition is unnecessary and Scripture sufficient; or they are indeed new dogmata, which have no support in Scripture, and then the assistentia divina of the pope is indeed essentially a revelatio and revelation of new doctrine. This latter may then still be denied theoretically, but in practice it is nevertheless accepted. Therefore the Roman theologians after the Reformation are in general more liberal than before that time in the acknowledgment that some dogmata are grounded only in tradition. And therefore arguments are now adduced for tradition which formerly were not, or at least not in that sense and to that extent, employed. Now the insufficiency of Scripture and the right of tradition are proved from this, that prophetic and apostolic writings have been lost, that Christ did not teach everything to his apostles, that the apostles also orally commanded much to the congregations, etc. But that writings have been lost, and whether they were inspired (Bellarm. de verbo Dei IV c. 4) or not (August. de civ. 18, 38), is of no consequence. For the question is only whether the Scripture at hand contains all that which it is necessary to know for our salvation; and not whether it contains all that prophets and apostles have written, and Christ himself has spoken and done. Even if writings of prophets and apostles were still found, they would no longer be able to serve as Holy Scripture. And so it stands also with the [412] instruction of Jesus and the apostles. They have spoken and done more than is described to us. Knowledge thereof would be historically important; but is religiously unnecessary. We have enough in Scripture for our salvation, and have no other writing, even if it had come from Jesus himself, any longer necessary. That was the doctrine of the Reformation. Quantitatively the revelation has been much richer and greater than Scripture has preserved for us, but qualitatively, substantially Holy Scripture is perfectly sufficient for our salvation. Rome therefore also cannot name any other dogmata than those of Mariolatry, the infallibility of the pope and the like, which have arisen from tradition apart from Scripture; but all those which have reference to God, man, Christ, salvation, etc. are, according to Rome as well, to be found in Scripture itself. What witnesses then do we still need. The Roman tradition serves only to prove the specifically Roman dogmata, but the Christian, the catholic dogmata are, according to Rome itself, all grounded in Scripture. This fact too shows that Scripture is sufficient, and that the nature of the N. T. dispensation brings about and requires this sufficientia S. Scr. Christ has revealed everything fully either personally and orally or also through his Spirit to the apostles. Through their word we believe in Christ and have fellowship with God, Joh. 17:20; 1 Joh. 1:3. The H. Spirit reveals no new doctrine any more; He takes it all from Christ, Joh. 16:14. In Christ the revelation of God is completed. And likewise the word of salvation is perfectly comprehended in Scripture. It forms one whole; it itself makes the impression of an organism that has reached its full maturity. It ends where it begins. It is a circle that returns again into itself. It begins with creation; it ends with the re-creation of heaven and earth. The canon of O. and N. T. was first closed when all new Ansätze der heilshistorie were present, Hofmann, Weissagung u. Erfüllung I 47. The H. Spirit has no other task in this dispensation than to apply the work of Christ and likewise to explain the word of Christ. He adds nothing new to either. The work of Christ does not need to be supplemented by the good works of believers; the word of Christ does not need to be supplemented by the tradition of the church; Christ himself does not need to be succeeded and replaced [413] by the pope. The Roman doctrine of tradition is the denial of the perfect incarnation of God in Christ, of the all-sufficiency of his sacrifice, of the perfection of his word. The history of the Roman church shows us the slowly continuing process, how a false principle insinuates itself and at first still places itself under Christ and his word, then places itself alongside it, soon raises itself above it, in order to end in a complete replacement of Scripture by tradition, of Christ by the pope, of the congregation by the institute. The development is certainly not yet at an end. It seems an anomaly that the pope, who gradually raised himself above Scripture, church, council, tradition, is appointed by fallible men, even if they are cardinals. Who can better than he, who himself is infallible, designate his successor? Thus it is quite possible that papal sovereignty in the future will prove incompatible with the power of the cardinals. In any case the path of the deification of man by Rome has not yet been run to the end.

22. Yet by this all the good and true is not denied, which lies enclosed in the doctrine of tradition. The word tradition has a broader sense still than that which is given to it by Rome. Rome understands by it a doctrine which has been handed down by the apostles, is preserved by the bishops, specifically by the pope, and is determined and proclaimed by him; but this conception proved untenable. Tradition, however, can also be understood of that entire religious life, thinking, feeling, acting, which is found in every religious community and finds its expression in all kinds of forms, morals, customs, usages, religious language and literature, confession and liturgy etc. In this sense there is tradition in every religion. Indeed the concept can be extended still further to all those rich and manifold bonds which connect the following generations to the preceding. In this sense no family, no lineage, no society, no people, no art, no science etc. can exist without tradition. Tradition is the means by which all treasures and goods of the forefathers are transferred to the present and the future. Over against the individualism and atomism of the former century, the Bonald, Lamennais [414] and others and Bilderdijk among us have again placed the significance of the community, the authority, the language, the tradition etc. in the clearest light. Such a tradition there is very certainly also in religion and in the church. Already the universality points to it, that we are not dealing here with an accidental phenomenon. We find tradition not only in the Roman church but also among the Jews, the Mohammedans, the Buddhists etc. In the higher religions there is added yet another reason for the necessity of tradition. They are all bound to a holy scripture, which arose in a definite time and in that sense comes, the longer the more, to stand further away from the now living generation. The Bible too is a book, written in long bygone centuries and under all kinds of historical circumstances. The different books of the Bible bear the character of the time in which they arose. However clear Scripture then may be in the doctrine of salvation and however much it is and remains the viva vox Dei, cf. above p. 305, it nevertheless requires for right understanding many times all kinds of historical, archaeological, geographical knowledge. The times have changed, and with the times the people, their life and thinking and feeling. Therefore a tradition is needed, in order to preserve the connection between Scripture and the religious life of this time. Tradition in a good sense is the interpretation and application of the eternal truth in the speech and the life of the present generation. A Scripture without such a tradition is impossible. Many sects in earlier and later time have indeed attempted this. They wanted to know of nothing but the words and letters of Scripture; rejected all dogmatic terminology that was not used in Scripture; disapproved all theological training and science, and sometimes came to demand literal application of the civil laws under Israel and of the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount. But all these directions thereby condemned themselves to a certain ruin or at least to a languishing life. They place themselves outside society and lack all influence upon its people and its age. Scripture is not there to be learned by heart from without and parroted but to enter into the full rich human life and to form it, to guide it, and to bring it to independent activity in every domain. The Reformation therefore also placed itself on another standpoint. It did not reject all tradition as such, it was [415] reformation, no revolution. It did not attempt to create everything anew, but indeed to cleanse everything of error and abuse according to the rule of God’s word. Therefore it remained standing on the broad Christian foundation of the apostolic symbol and the first councils. Therefore it was for a theological science, which interpreted the truth of Scripture in thought in the language of the present. The difference in the conception of tradition between Rome and the Reformation consists in this: Rome wants a tradition which runs independently alongside Scripture, a traditio juxta Scripturam or rather still a Scriptura juxta traditionem. The Reformation recognizes only such a tradition as is grounded on and flows forth from Scripture, traditio e Scriptura fluens, Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. I 351. Scripture was, according to the thought of the Reformation, an organic principle, from which the whole tradition, living on in preaching, confession, liturgy, cultus, theology, religious literature etc., grew up and is nourished; a pure spring of living water, from which all brooks and channels of religious life are fed and maintained. Such a tradition is grounded in Scripture itself. When Jesus has completed his work, He sends the H. Spirit, who indeed adds nothing new to revelation, but nevertheless leads the church into the truth, Joh. 16 vs. 12-15, until through all diversity it comes to the unity of faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, Ef. 3 vs. 18, 19, 4:13. In this sense there is a good, true, glorious tradition. It is the way along which the H. Spirit causes the truth of Scripture to pass over into the consciousness and life of the church. Scripture is, after all, only means, no end. The end is that the church, instructed from Scripture, freely and independently proclaim the virtues of Him who has called it out of darkness into his marvellous light. The verbum externum is instrument, the verbum internum is end. Scripture has reached its destination, when all shall be taught by the Lord and filled with the H. Spirit.

CHAPTER III. Internal Principle.

Monergism Books

§ 13. Meaning of the Internal Principle.

1. To the principium externum, which was discussed in the previous chapter, there must correspond in man himself a principium internum. By Herbert Spencer, Principles of psychology § 120, life is defined as the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external relations; and indeed all life in man rests on a reciprocal correspondence of subject and object. Man is in every respect dependent on the world outside him; he is autonomous in no single domain, he lives from what is given, i.e. from grace. But reciprocally he is adapted to that whole world outside him, he stands connected with it through all kinds of relations. His body is taken from the dust of the earth, composed of the same elements as other bodies, and therefore akin to the physical world. His vegetative life is nourished from the earth; food, covering and clothing are bestowed on him by nature; light and air, alternation of day and night he needs for his bodily life; he is a microcosm, earthly from the earth. As anima sensitiva he received in the senses organs, by which he can perceive and represent to himself the world outside himself in its various relations. Through the logos that is in him, he raises himself to the world of intelligible things and traces the logos that has embodied itself in the visible. And likewise man stands, religiously and ethically, in relation with a true world of ideal and spiritual goods and has received a facultas to perceive and [417] to know this world. The investigation into the essence of religion earlier already led us pp. 177, 212, to a certain religious disposition in man, to a receptivity of his nature to perceive the divine. Scripture expresses this thus, that man is created after God’s image, that he is his offspring and that he possesses in the νους an organ to notice God’s revelation in his creation. Religion presupposes that man is akin to God.

But even if this religious receptivity may be proper to human nature, it is nevertheless an abstraction and in reality never occurs in a pure state and without content. Whatever rich aptitude for science or art may also be hidden in a child, it is nevertheless born in a state of helplessness. It depends on the grace of its environment. Food and drink, shelter and clothing, representations and concepts, sensations and desires we receive from the circle in which we are born and brought up. Religion too is impressed upon us by our parents and caretakers. It is with religion as with language. We bring the capacity for speech with us at birth; but the language in which we shall later express our thoughts is bestowed upon us by the environment. Schopenhauer, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, 6e Aufl. II 181, therefore makes the correct remark, that religions enjoy a great privilege over philosophical systems, because they are impressed upon children from their youth. Religion grows up from childhood onward together with the most intimate and tender life and is for that reason also almost ineradicable. The rule is that someone dies in the religion in which he was born. The Mohammedan, the Christian, the Roman, the Protestant commonly remain faithful until their death to the religion of their youth and of their parents. Except in times of religious crisis, such as at the rise of Christianity, Mohammedanism, the Reformation, conversions are rare; change of religion is the exception, not the rule. Indeed, most people live and die without ever being shaken by serious doubt in their religious faith. The question why they believe in the truth of the religious representations in which they have been brought up does not arise in thought. They believe, find more or less satisfaction in their faith, and do not reflect on the [418] grounds on which their conviction rests. If faith is strong, there is no place for such an investigation into the grounds of faith. He who is hungry does not first investigate the manner in which the bread is prepared that is set before him. Primum vivere, deinde philosophari. There is a great difference between life and reflection. It is not a proof of richness but of poverty of religious life, if most attention is devoted to the formal questions. When philosophical power of thought is exhausted, one throws oneself upon the history of philosophy. When one no longer lives in the confession of the church, its origin and history are investigated. And when faith loses its power and confidence, an investigation is instituted into the grounds on which it rests.

2. Yet such investigation has its good and useful side. Kant has turned the whole of philosophy upside down into a critique of the faculty of knowledge. And no one will despise the investigations which since then have been devoted to the nature and the certainty of our knowledge. But yet too highly strained expectation here is always followed by disappointment. The problems here are so complicated that solution seems unattainable. All attempts to arrive at a satisfactory answer in this question are weighed down by serious objections. Sometimes voices are raised which counsel against further investigation, because it is completely useless. These formal questions have no influence on science itself. Whether one be idealist or empiricist, realist or nominalist, there is in any case no science to be obtained except along the path of observation and thinking. Also in theology and religion there is reason to warn against exaggerated expectations. The Erkenntnisstheorie does not compensate for faith; the pars formalis of dogmatics cannot replace the pars materialis. Indeed the investigation into the grounds of faith is much more difficult than that into the grounds of knowing. In the first place it is in general impossible for believers, in a scientific sense, to give an account to themselves of the reasons why they believe. Their life out of faith is for them themselves proof enough of the truth and value of that faith. He who is hungry and eats, thereby of itself experiences the nourishing power of the bread and has no need of investigation into its chemical constituents [419]. Further, it is also even for scientific theologians an exaggerated demand, that beforehand they must prove the scientific right of the Erkenntnisstheorie from which they proceed, before they may make a beginning with the theological labour, A. Ritschl, Theologie und Metaphysik 1881 S. 38. A theologian is after all no philosopher. Even if philosophical formation is indispensable for the divine, he nevertheless does not need first to have investigated all philosophical Erkenntnisstheorieën before he can appear as theologian. Theology brings its own theory of knowledge with it and is indeed dependent on philosophy but not on any philosophical system. And finally the object of the investigation here lies so deeply hidden in the life of the soul and is so intimately interwoven with the finest and tenderest stirrings of the human heart, that it almost entirely escapes our own and much more still another’s observation. Religion is rooted deeper in human nature than any other power. For it man gives up everything, his money and his goods, his wife and his child, his name, his honour, his life. Only religion has blood-witnesses, martyrs. Preserving it, man can lose everything, with it he nevertheless preserves himself. But denying it, he himself is lost. Who then will be able to trace the root of this life, which is one with the life of man himself? Who will be able to lay bare the ground on which believing rests? Faith itself is already such a wondrous and mysterious power. We describe it by knowing, assenting, trusting etc., but immediately feel the weakness of this definition, and after long reasoning in the end have still said nothing or very little. The question: how and why do I know, is so difficult that all philosophical power of thought has not yet found the answer. But still more difficult is the question: how and why do I believe? It is for ourselves a riddle, for we cannot descend into the depths of our own mind and cannot penetrate with our gaze into the darkness that lies behind our consciousness. And for others it is an even greater hiddenness. For for ourselves as grounds of faith there still count all kinds of moods and emotions, deliberations and dispositions, which accompany faith and attach us inseparably fast to the object of our faith. But to others we cannot communicate these; they are destined for no revelation [420] and are not susceptible of any communication. If we sometimes attempt it, they lose under the communication their power and value; we feel ourselves least satisfied by it. And often the end is that what was indicated as ground cannot stand the test and proves to be no ground. Nevertheless faith, in spite of all reasoning, maintains itself and says: I cannot do otherwise, God help me, amen.

3. Therefore it causes no surprise that the grounds for religious and thus also for Christian faith are stated very differently. To the question: how someone comes to faith and why he believes, the answers diverge very widely. Some are of the opinion that man in himself, in his own nature, possesses sufficient data in order to discern, to judge, and to accept a religious representation, the revelation, the Scripture. The organ for the judging and acceptance of revelation is sought in turn in the understanding; faith then rests on historical-apologetic grounds. Or reason is indicated as such an organ; faith is then built on speculative reasoning. Or also conscience, the disposition, the heart is regarded as organ for the divine; faith is then based on ethical-practical motives. But always, with these directions, a man is presupposed who perhaps in one way or another has been prepared for revelation, but who nevertheless in fact still stands outside the faith and for whom now the revelation must be justified by an intellectual or moral way.

The following investigation will teach that these grounds are insufficient and that the standpoint adopted by these tendencies cannot be accepted. But already a priori the inadequacy of these different methods can be seen. Religion, after all, is an independent magnitude; it is essentially distinct from science, art, morality. It has its own principium cognoscendi externum, viz. revelation, and therefore also demands its own principium cognoscendi internum. Just as the eye corresponds to the light, the ear to the sound, the logos in us to the logos outside us, so to the objective revelation a subjective organ in man must correspond. Religious receptivity in general, the semen religionis, the νους cannot [421] be considered for that. For, in the first place, this never and nowhere occurs in a pure state and without content. From the first awakening onward it is always grown into a historical religion and accommodated to it. But, in the second place, revelation in Scripture proceeds from the presupposition that man is also corrupted in this his religious disposition and is in need of re-creation. It would therefore destroy itself, if it recognized in the psychical man its competent judge. It places itself over against him in an entirely different relation. It does not place itself beneath him and does not submit to his judgment, but stands high above him and asks nothing but faith and obedience. Indeed, Scripture expressly declares that the psychical man does not understand the things of the Spirit of God, that they are foolishness to him, that he rejects and disavows them in enmity. The revelation of God in Christ asks for no support, no justification from men. It posits and maintains itself in high majesty. Its auctoritas is normative but also causative. It fights for its own triumph. It conquers for itself the hearts. It makes itself irresistible. Therefore revelation falls apart into two great dispensations. When the oeconomy of the Son, of the objective revelation, has ended, that of the Spirit enters in. Of this subjective revelation too God is the author. From Him the action proceeds. He is the first and the last. Man does not come to revelation and does not seek God. God seeks man. He seeks him in the Son, He seeks him also in the Spirit. If God in the last days has spoken to us through the Son, then the H. Spirit comes, who takes up the cause for Christ with the world, pleads his case, defends his word and inclines the hearts of men to obedience. The H. Spirit is the great, mighty Witness of Christ, objectively in Scripture, subjectively in man’s own spirit. In that Spirit man receives an adaequaat organ for the outward revelation. God can only be known by God; in his light alone can the light be seen. No one knows the Father, except him to whom the Son wills to reveal him, and no one can say Jesus to be the Lord, except through the H. Spirit. God is thus the principium essendi of religion and theology; the objective revelation in Christ, laid down in Scripture, is its principium cognoscendi externum; [422] and the H. Spirit, who has been poured out in the congregation, regenerates it and leads it into the truth, is its principium cognoscendi internum. In this testimony of the H. Spirit revelation closes and reaches its goal. For it is the good pleasure of God to re-create humanity after his image and likeness. Objective revelation is therefore not enough; it must continue and be completed in the subjective revelation. Yes, the former is only means, the latter is goal. The principium externum is instrumental; the principium internum is the principium formale and principale, bl. 143.

Therefore the Christian church at all times made confession of the testimonium Spiritus Sancti. God is the author of the external revelation; but He is also the one who elects the congregation, founds the church, and in it bears witness of Christ. Scripture is his word, the congregation is his temple. In so far there is unanimity in the confession of all churches concerning the testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Not the natural but only the spiritual man knows the things which have been bestowed on him by God, 1 Cor. 2:12 v. But otherwise there is nevertheless great difference concerning this witness of the Holy Spirit, especially between the Roman church and the churches of the Reformation. For according to Rome, Scripture is given to the church, and indeed to the church as institute, and only through it to the believers. The church receives, preserves, authorises, explains Holy Scripture. All revelation of God to the believers is mediated through the institute of the church. The church always stands between God and the believers. The church is mediatrix, medium gratiae, principium externum. She is the temple of the Holy Spirit. The testimonium Spiritus Sancti expresses itself in Rome only through the church as institute, through the ecclesia docens, through the magisterium, through the pope. But according to the Reformation the revelation, Scripture, is given, indeed also to the church, but to the church as organism, to the congregation, to the believers. They are the temple of the Holy Spirit. The testimonium Spiritus Sancti is the property of all believers. Where two or three are gathered in Jesus’ name, He is in the midst. In Rome the institute is the essence of the church; according to the Reformation this is a temporary aid, but the essence of the church lies in the assembly of the believers. This is the dwelling of God, the body of Christ, the temple of the Holy Spirit. [423]

§ 14. The Historical-Apologetic Method.

1. Hardly had Christianity penetrated into the Greco-Roman world, when it saw itself called to a serious struggle. Jews and Heathens attacked it and raised all kinds of objections against it. Then in the 2nd century the Apologists arose, who sought to ward off these attacks and tried to defend Christianity. Justinus Martyr, Dialogus c. Tryphone, Tertullianus, adv. Judaeos, and Eusebius, Demonstratio evangelica wrote against the Jews. Much greater was the number of apologetic writings against the Heathens. The principal ones are Justinus Martyr, Apologia maior en minor; Tatianus, Orat. adv. Graecos; Athenagoras, Legatio sive supplicatio pro Christianis; Theophilus, ad Autolycum; Clemens Alex., Coh. ad gentes; Origenes, contra Celsum; Tertullianus, Apologeticus en Ad nationes; Arnobius, Disput. adv. gentes; Minucius Felix, Octavius; Eusebius, Praeparatio evangelica; Athanasius, Orat. adv. gentes; Cyrillus, adv. impium Julianum; Augustinus, de civ. Dei. In these works, for the truth of Christianity the following arguments are advanced: a) it is safer, of two uncertain things, to believe that which quod aliquas spes ferat quam omnino quod nullas, Arnobius, adv. gentes II 4; b) the agreement of Christianity with the best and finest, with the σπερματα ἀληθειας, which are also still found among the Heathens through the operation of the Logos, Athenag. Leg. 6. Justinus, Apol. maior 20 sq. Minucius, Octav. 19, 20; c) the excellence of Christianity above the heathen religions, so that every human soul must involuntarily bear witness to it, Justinus, Apol. min. 10. Tertull. de testim. an. 1. Arnobius, adv. gentes II 2; d) the moral influence of Christianity on doctrine and life, so that the horrible sins of idolatry, sorcery, hatred, greed, cruelty etc. have disappeared through it, Epist. ad Diognetum 5. Justinus, Apol. maior 14. Athen., Leg. 11. Orig., c. Cels. I 26. Arnob., adv. gentes I 63. Lactant., Instit. div. III 16. Euseb., Praep. evang. I 4; e) the steadfastness of the martyrs, Just. M., Apol. II 12, and the holiness of the ascetics, Just., Apol. I 15. Athen., Leg. 33, 34. Euseb., Dem. Evang. III 6; f) the predictions and their fulfillment, Just., Dial. c. Tryph. [424] 7, 8. Just., Apol. I 31. Orig., c. Cels. I 2; g) the miracles, not only in earlier but also in the present time, Just., Dial. c. Tryph. 39, 82, 88. Iren., adv. haer. II 31, 32. Tertull., Apol. 23. Orig., c. Cels. III 24; h) the holy character and life of Jesus and the apostles, Arnob., adv. gentes I 63. Euseb., Dem. evang. III 3, 5; i) the testimony of Scripture, the agreement of the Scriptures among themselves, the simple language, the divine content, which could not be produced by any human reason, Just. M., Coh. ad Graec. 8. Orig., de princ. IV 1, together with the wondrous origin, preservation, and spread of Scripture, Tertull., Apol. 19; and finally also j) the testimony of tradition and of the church, Iren., adv. haer. I 10, III 3. Tertull., de praescr. 20. Cypr., de unitate eccles. August., de civ. dei etc. Cf. Münscher-v. Coelln, Lehrb. der christl. Dogm. Gesch. I 1832 S. 103 f. Hagenbach, Dogm. Gesch. § 29 f. Harnack, Dogm. Gesch. I2 413 f. These arguments have since then obtained general citizenship in Christian theology. The content of the supernatural truths was incomprehensible to reason, Thomas S. Theol. I qu. 32 art. 1, S. c. Gent. I c. 9. All the more, then, it came down to proving that God had revealed himself. All the proofs that could be adduced for that were summarized under the name of rationes inductivae or motiva credibilitatis, Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 2 art. 9 ad 3, art. 10. Duns Scotus, Prol. Sentent. qu. 2. Ludovicus Vives, de veritate fidei christ. 1543. Cf. Frohschammer, Die Philosophie des Thomas v. Aquino, Leipzig 1889 S. 130 f. After the Reformation, especially the argument derived from the church was further developed. The church then became at Rome more and more fundamentum et regula fidei. Augustinus had already said that he was moved by the church to believe in Scripture. The Roman Catholics after the Reformation made the church into the strongest ground for faith in Scripture, in revelation. The motiva credibilitatis were often divided into three kinds, Becanus, Theol. Schol. Tom. II pars. II tract. 1 cap. 6. Mogunt. 1623 p. 93, into such as are valid over against Jews and Heathens; into others that have significance especially for the Roman Catholics themselves; and into a third group that are of force over against the heretics. To this last now belongs especially the church with its 15 notae, as they are enumerated by Bellarminus, de Conciliis et Ecclesia, [425] Lib. IV. What the Reformers said of Scripture is applied to the church. It is like the sun, which spreads its rays and can easily be known by its own light. Among the proofs for revelation the church takes the first and the highest place; it is of all the most powerful motive to faith. The Conc. Vatic. Sess. III cap. 3 de fide declared: ad solam enim catholicam Ecclesiam ea pertinent omnia, quae ad evidentem fidei christianae credibilitatem tam multa et tam mira divinitus sunt disposita. Quin etiam Ecclesia per se ipsa, ob suam nempe admirabilem propagationem, eximiam sanctitatem et inexhaustam in omnibus bonis foecunditatem, ob catholicam unitatem invictamque stabililatem, magnum quoddam et perpetuum est motivum credibilitatis et divinae suae legationis testimonium irrefragabile. The value of all these proofs, also of that of the church, consists in this, that they can demonstrate the credibility of revelation. They are capable of producing a fides humana and of proving the reasonableness of believing. They make the truth of revelation clear to such a degree and to such a height that all reasonable doubt is excluded. If on the side of man no sinful self-interest and no hostility of the heart came into play, then those motives would be powerful enough to move to faith in revelation. They do not indeed make revelation evidenter veram, for if that were the case, then no faith would any longer be necessary and faith would also lack all merit; but yet indeed evidenter credibilem, Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 1 art. 4 ad 2, 4, art. 5 ad 2, qu. 2 art. 1 ad 1. Bellarm., de Conc. et Eccl. IV cap. 3. Billuart, Summa S. Thomae hodiernis acad. moribus accommodata, VIII p. 25 sq. P. Dens, Theologia ad usum seminariorum II 275 sq. The Roman theologians therefore usually take up all those arguments of apologetics into dogmatics and treat them at length, Perrone, Prael. Theol. I. Jansen, Prael. Theol. I 117 sq. Hake, Handbuch der allgem. Religionswissenschaft, Freiburg 1887 II 1 f. Heinrich, Dogm. I 279 f. Liebermann, Dogm. I p. 33 sq. etc. Some even went so far that they also considered these proofs sufficient for the unbeliever, Billuart, I p. 28, 29. Dens, II 292. But most acknowledged that all these proofs were nevertheless only motives and that they did not constitute the last and deepest [426] ground of faith. That could only be the authority of God, Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 2 art. 1 ad 3 en art. 10. S. c. Gent. I c. 9. Billuart VIII p. 1 sq. Becanus ib. p. 3-17. Dens, II 280 sq. Jansen, Prael. Theol. I 701-706. And that faith in revelation on the ground of God’s authority does not come about through those proofs but through an auxilium dei, an instinctus interior, which moves the will to faith, Thomas II 1 qu. 109 art, 6, qu. 112 art. 2 en 3, qu. 113 art. 4. The Conc. Vatic. sess. III cap. 3 de fide, likewise recognized on the one hand that faith was a virtus supernaturalis, qua Dei aspirante et adjuvante gratia ab eo revelata vera esse credimus, non propter intrinsecam rerum veritatem naturali rationis lumine perspectam, sed propter auctoritatem ipsius Dei revelantis. But on the other hand it nevertheless attached great value to the apologetic arguments and therefore immediately added: ut nihilominus fidei nostrae obsequium rationi consentaneum esset, voluit Deus cum internis Spiritus Sancti auxiliis externa jungi revelationis suae argumenta..... quae.... divinae revelationis signa sunt certissima et omnium intelligentiae accommodata. It even condemned in canon 3, 3 the one who said, revelationem divinam externis signis credibilem fieri non posse, ideoque sola interna cujusque experientia aut inspiratione privata homines ad fidem moveri debere. This appreciation of apologetics at Rome in turn coheres with the whole system. The supernatural revelation is erected on the foundation of the natural. The former is reached only successively and by steps. Man in puris naturalibus first comes by proofs to theologia naturalis. This is praeambula fidei. Here even science is possible. The proofs are convincing. In itself there is as yet no question of faith here. Whoever has come so far and stands on the foundation of theol. naturalis, can now further, through the motiva credibilitatis, especially through the signa and notae ecclesiae, see the credibility of revelation, and recognize the reasonableness of believing. And when thus the fides humana has been obtained, and man has prepared himself through the actus praeparatorii, he is by the gratia infusa itself taken up into the supernatural order and he prepares himself through good works again for heaven, for the visio Dei. Man goes out of the state of nature upward by steps. Each time he comes to stand a degree higher. The pura naturalia, theol. [427] naturalis, motiva credibilitatis, actus praeparatorii, gratia infusa, bona opera, visio Dei form the different rungs of the ladder, which stands on the earth and reaches into heaven.

2. The Reformation has indeed in principle combated this hierarchy of Rome and adopted another standpoint. It did not take its position in natural reason, in order to lead this successively up to faith, but in the Christian faith. And it declared as decisively as possible, as will be shown later, that that faith rested only on God’s authority and was wrought only by the H. Spirit. But the Protestant theologians have nevertheless not always strictly maintained this principle and have repeatedly returned to the doctrine of theologia naturalis and of the historical proofs for the truth of revelation. Calvin says, Inst. I, 7, 3, that it would be easy for him to prove the divinity of the H. Scripture and in cap. 8 adduces various grounds for it. And thus also speak and act Ursinus, Tract. Theol. p. 1-33. Zanchius, Op. VIII col. 335 sq. Polanus, Synt. Theol. I c. 17 sq. c. 27, 28. Synopsis pur. theol. disp. 2, 10 sq. Du Plessis-Mornay, Traité de la vérité de la religion chrétienne contre les Athées etc. Anvers 1581. Abbadie, Traité de la vérité de la religion chrét. 1684 etc. Cf. Heppe, Dogm. der ev. ref. K. S. 20-22. Hase, Hutt. Rediv. § 37. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. S. 32, 33. The conviction that these proofs were sufficient to produce at least a fides humana has involuntarily contributed to emancipating reason from faith and to placing the dogmata of theol. naturalis and of the H. Scripture outside the fides salvifica. Therewith rationalism in the Protest. churches also began. Socinianism rejected the testimonium Spiritus Sancti and grounded the truth of Christianity on historical proofs, Catech. Racov. qu. 5-30. Fock, der Socin. 338 f. Remonstrantism went the same way, Episcopius, Instit. Theol. Lib. IV cap. 2. Limborch, Theol. Christ. I c. 4. Id. De veritate relig. Christ. collatio cum erudito Iudaeo 1687. Hugo Grotius, de veritate relig. christ. 1627. Cf. Wijnmalen, Hugo de Groot as defender of the Christ. Utrecht 1869. Through Cartesius rationalism also penetrated into the Geref. churches. The theologia naturalis came to stand independently alongside the theologia revelata. And within this [428] latter, to reason was granted the right to investigation and explanation of the credentials of revelation, H. A. Roëll, Dissert. de theol. naturali 1700 etc. Leibniz expressed the generally prevailing opinion, when he set revelation over against reason, as an extraordinary envoy stands over against a competent assembly. This examines his credentials and, when it has found these genuine, goes to listen to him respectfully. Discours sur la conformité de la foi avec la raison § 29. Deism in England and rationalism in Germany soon inferred from that that the theologia naturalis was completely sufficient. And supranaturalism, which conceded the emancipation of reason in the theol. naturalis and in the investigation into the truth of revelation, could appear before that reason with no other than historical and rational proofs. In that way Christianity was defended and dogmatics worked on by a number of men in England, Germany, the Netherlands, of whom we here recall only the names of Butler, The analogy of religion natural and revealed 1736. Paley, View of the evidences of christianity 1794. Id. Natural Theology 1802. Chalmers, The evidence and authority of the christ. revelation 1817. Id. Natural theology 1823; cf. Tholuck, Vermischte Schriften I S. 163-224. Reinhard, Morus, Doederlein, Knapp, Storr e. a.; in this country by Van Nuijs Klinkenberg, Muntinghe, Heringa, Vinke etc. and the works of the Haagsch Genootschap. And furthermore we also find later this standpoint still again with Pareau and Hofstede de Groot, Compendium Dogm. et Apolog. Christ. 3 ed. 1848 p. 179 sq.; Van Oosterzee, who at first adopted the standpoint of Schleiermacher Jaarb. v. wet. Theol. 1845 bl. 1-74, but later sought salvation in an apologetics that preceded dogmatics, Jaarb. v. wet. Theol. V bl. 406. The doctrine of the Herv. Church of J. H. Scholten considered 1851 bl. 51, 53. Dogmatics § 30-34, § 38 etc.; Doedes, who by unbiased, purely historical investigation wants to come to know Christianity, The right of the Christ. maintained over against philosophy 1847, Modern or Apost. Christ. 1860, The so-called modern Theol. somewhat elucidated 1862; abroad with Voigt, Fundamentaldogmatik 1874 S. 184 f. 232 f. Gretillat, Exposé de theol. systématique II 176 s. A. B. Bruce, Apologetics, Edinburgh, Clark 1892 p. 42. W. M. Mc. Pheeters, Apostolical sanction the test of canonicity, Presb. and Ref. Rev. [429] Jan. 1895. Ed. König, Der Glaubensact des Christen, Erl. 1891, S. 143 f. and many other apologetic works, cf. Christlieb, Art. Apologetik in Herzog2.

3. But this standpoint has proved untenable through the history of supranaturalism itself and through the sharp criticism of Rousseau and Lessing, of Kant and Schleiermacher. Apologetics undoubtedly has a right to exist; an important task has been entrusted to it. It has to maintain and to defend the truth of God over against all opposition both from within and from without. Through various circumstances it has undeservedly fallen into contempt. In the first place it lost the love of many through the weakness and subtlety of the arguments which it brought forward against the serious and scientific opposition to the Christian faith. Subsequently it began, more and more, to inspire aversion through the supposition from which it often proceeded, that Christianity was a doctrine which could be demonstrated rationally. Further, fear of science, which often spoke in so lofty a tone and so infallibly proclaimed its dogmas, has often deterred believers from defence. People did indeed continue to believe, but withdrew anxiously, and avoided all contact with science; sometimes one eagerly took refuge in mysticism or agnosticism. Yet there is no reason to despise apologetics. The apologists of the second century, the church fathers, the scholastic theologians, the reformers, etc., they all stood in the firm faith that the truth of God, over against the opposition to which it was exposed from all sides, had to and could be defended. They did not leave the attacks unanswered. They sought out the enemy and did not rest until they had overcome him. That faith is already a power and almost half the victory. Doubt and distrust in the cause which we champion makes us powerless in the struggle. But thereby, of itself, the standpoint is also already indicated, from which alone a good defence of the truth can be undertaken. Apologetics cannot precede faith and does not attempt to prove the truth of revelation a priori. It presupposes the truth and faith in the truth; it stands on the foundation of dogmatics and now attempts to maintain and to defend the dogma against the opposition [430] to which it is subjected. If, however, the Christian revelation, which presupposes the darkness and error of the psychical man, were to submit itself beforehand to his reason for judgment, it would thereby contradict itself. It would thereby place itself before a tribunal whose competence it had first denied. And once, in the principia, recognizing the right of reason, it would soon no longer be able, in the articuli fidei, to contest that right. Supranaturalism must always lead to rationalism, because in principle it is already rationalistic. But apart from this principled objection, the historical-apologetic proof also does not lead to the desired result. It could still get a certain distance in a time when the genuineness of the biblical books and the historical truth of their content still stood fairly generally. But the miracles and prophecies of Scripture themselves now stand in such need of defence, that they can no longer possibly serve as arguments. Apologetics, in order to prove something, would first have to treat the whole so-called introductory science and would have to take up numerous other disciplines into itself, before it could make a beginning with the exposition of the truth; it would never, in this way, come to faith, to dogmatics; the pars formalis would so expand that for the pars materialis no time and no place would remain. This long road could then still be taken by someone who possessed time and strength and gift enough to institute such an investigation into the truth of the Christian faith; but it would be wholly inaccessible to the simple person, who nevertheless just as much as the learned, and not first tomorrow but already now, at this moment, has need of the peace and the comfort of faith, and who therefore, for the salvation of his soul, would become dependent on an intellectual and therefore the more unbearable clericalism. And suppose even that this were still no predominant objection and that historical investigation were for all people the only way to the knowledge of the truth; then the result, which would be obtained in the most favourable circumstances, would nevertheless be no other than a fides humana, which tomorrow again could be shaken and overthrown by other and better investigations. Eternity indeed cannot hang on a spider’s web. In religion no man and no creature may stand between God and my soul. To live and to die comforted and blessed [431] is not possible so long as I rest in a human, fallible testimony. In religion there is need not of a lesser but of a much stronger and firmer certainty than in science. Here there is rest only in the testimony of God. The testimony of the church is also insufficient. It is of great value not only at the origin but also in the continuance of the Christian faith. It remains a support up to the end of life. It is indeed a motivum perpetuum to faith. We are bound in our whole life to a community. A human being is a ζωον πολιτικον. The community keeps us standing, each time we threaten to stumble. The cloud of witnesses, lying around us, encourages us in the struggle. There is required an unusual courage and strength of spirit, to remain steadfast when all abandon us and stand over against us. But community strengthens one’s own conviction. Yet for that reason the testimony of the church cannot be the last and deepest ground of faith. Roman theologians also recognize that themselves, as will later appear. In the investigation into the grounds of faith they are in no way in a better condition with their infallible church than the Protestants. For they too must pose the question: on what does faith in the church rest? If on apologetic proofs, then the same objections arise against that which have been raised above. And if on the testimonium Spiritus Sancti, then this doctrine is the cornerstone of the Christian faith.

§ 15. The Speculative Method.

1. Supranaturalism fell under the blows of Rousseau and Kant, of Lessing and Schleiermacher. A mighty reversal followed. Classicism gave way in every area to romanticism, the dominion and autonomy of the subject. In the first period, with the feeling of freedom, this reaction went so far that it eliminated everything objective and held the subject to be sufficient unto itself. The subject thus produces, if not the matter (Fichte), then at any rate the form (Kant) of the world. The non-I is a product of the I, the moral world-order comes into being through man himself, and the moral law is freely and royally set by genius [432] itself. Schleiermacher too at first adopted this standpoint. But this absolute idealism led to all kinds of dreadful consequences. The French Revolution showed the dangerousness of this autonomy of man. Yet there had to be something objective, that stood firm and had authority. Thus came the restoration, i.e. the attempt, while retaining the same point of departure, nevertheless to come back from the subject to the objective. Of that restoration Hegel was the philosophical spokesman. He elevated the subjective, ethical idealism of Fichte to an objective, logical idealism, and replaced the idea of being with that of becoming. The whole world became a process, a development of the logical idea. In this evolution religion too has its place. But that religion veils itself in forms and symbols, which can be understood in their deep meaning only by speculative reason. Rationalism understood nothing of that, and simply set aside the dogmas of the church, not knowing what to do with them. But those dogmas are full of deep, philosophical meaning. Hegel’s spirit threw itself upon those dogmas, stripped them of their historical symbolic forms, and traced the idea in them. History is only the shell, the covering; the kernel itself is deep, true philosophy. Not the rationalistic doctrines God, virtue, immortality, but the highest and deepest dogmas of Christianity, such as the Trinity, the incarnation, the satisfaction, become the object of bold, philosophical speculation. Outside Scripture and outside any authority, those dogmas are derived as necessary from reason and proved as supremely rational. Theology and philosophy were apparently reconciled, faith was transformed by speculative reason into absolute knowing. This speculative method was adopted and applied to dogmatics, indeed with very different outcome, by Daub, Markeineke, Strauss, Feuerbach, Vatke, Weisse, lastly by Biedermann. Biedermann deviates from Hegel on important points and does not accept his a priori method; but proceeding from the Christian dogmas, he nevertheless attempts, in the same way as Hegel, to analyze these into the religious principle that underlies them and the historical expression which they have assumed, and then further to develop them speculatively and practically, Christl. Dogm. 2e Aufl. I 15, 16. And likewise in this country Scholten has attempted, in the Reformed dogmas [433] to distinguish between clothing and idea, and to interpret them in a monistic and deterministic sense.

2. But this speculative method has also found acceptance in the school of Schleiermacher. Schleiermacher had in common with Hegel the subjective point of departure, yet he took his position not in reason but in feeling. Religion is a peculiar determination of feeling or of immediate self-consciousness. Further, he did not conceive that feeling individually, but historically, as it existed in a religious community and in the Christian congregation in particular had been formed by Jesus as the Erlöser. And finally he saw in dogmatics no speculative development but only description of the pious states of mind or of the faith of the congregation; Schleiermacher opposed in theory all mixing of theology and philosophy. But on the other hand Schleiermacher’s Glaubenslehre nevertheless showed that his own religious experience deviated very strongly from that of the Christian congregation and very certainly had also been formed under the influence of Spinoza; and in his Kurze Darstellung he gave the first place to philosophical theology, which was given the task of determining the essence of Christianity. In fact, in Schleiermacher theology became wholly dependent on philosophy, Kurze Darst. § 24, 32 f. cf. Christl. Glaub. § 2 f. The Vermittelungstheologie, with Schleiermacher, took its standpoint in consciousness, in faith, the confession of the congregation, but combined therewith the speculative method of Hegel, in order thereby to elevate faith to knowledge and to make authority yield to independent rational insight. Twesten strives, by means of reasoning, to derive an orthodox-Lutheran dogmatics from pious feeling, Vorles. I2 21 f. Müller wishes by a regressive way, through reflection on his own experience, from the religious certainty of faith to arrive at an objective knowledge of God, Dogm. Abhandlungen 1870 S. 1-42, and art. Dogmatik in Herzog1. Martensen assigns to the reborn consciousness the task of reproducing scientifically from its own depths the doctrine of Scripture and of the church, Dogm. § 31 f. With Dorner the Glaubenslehre is not merely descriptive, but also constructive and progressive; it brings religious knowledge to systematic Begründung und Entfaltung and attempts to demonstrate the Christian idea of God [434] as necessary, by indicating that it is the supplementation and completion of the concept of God überhaupt, Glaub. I 155 f. Especially in Rothe this speculative method of the Vermittelungstheologie clearly emerges; the consciousness of God is the idea from which he, with the aid of Hegelian dialectic, derives the whole creation, nature, history, sin, redemption, Theol. Ethik § 7. Among the Vermittelungstheologians there is moreover great diversity, but they all have point of departure and method in common with one another; they proceed not from some or other authority, but from the Christian consciousness of the congregation, and seek the proof for the truth of faith not in an appeal to some or other authority but in inner evidence, in logical necessity.

3. Even outside the circle of those theologians who, in a stricter sense, attach themselves to Hegel and Schleiermacher, this method has found acceptance. Hofmann does indeed not conceive dogmatics as a description of states of mind, any more than as a reproduction of Scripture- or church-doctrine and also not as a development of Christian knowledge from a general principle, but he nevertheless, like Schleiermacher, proceeds from Christian piety. Dogmatics is an unfolding of that which makes the Christian a Christian, of the personal communion of God with man mediated by Christ. Die Erkenntniss und Aussage des Christenthums ist vor allem Selbsterkenntniss und Selbstaussage des Christen, Schriftbeweis, 2e Aufl. I S. 5-16. Philippi, Kirchl. Glaub. I 52 f. 108 f. Kahnis, Luther. Dogm. I 7, 8 have this same subjective point of departure. Ebrard attempts in dogmatics to demonstrate the truth and necessity of the Erlösungsthatsachen, by comparing them at all points with the scientifically developed Erlösungsbedürfniss, Dogm. § 52. etc. Frank in particular has, in his System der Christl. Gewissheit, 2e Aufl. 1884, taken over and elaborated this thought. Hofmann took his standpoint in the factual state of the communion of God with man. This rests and bears the certainty in itself, and Scripture bears witness to it. Here, therefore, there was no place for a system of Christian certainty. The Christian is conscious of himself, and with that everything is said. But Frank does not stop here; he attempts to give an account why the Christian believes all that [435] which his faith contains. He thus constructs a System der christlichen Gewissheit. Theology, so he says, must, in distinction from philosophy I 26 f., place itself not outside but in the midst of Christian consciousness, and from there survey and judge everything, also the natural, S. 31, 32, 119, 137. Christian certainty, after all, has its foundation and essence not in all kinds of external proofs, nor also in an external authority, but in the Christian himself, in his moral experience and self-determination. This particular moral experience is regeneration and conversion, S. 113. The Christian knows that a change has taken place with him and is still continually taking place, so that there now dwells in him a twofold direction, a twofold I, S. 120 f.; and he is as certain of that as a sick person who recovered is conscious of his former sickness and his present health, S. 129. From this experience of regeneration he now of himself and at once posits the whole content of Christian truth; he does so by virtue of the nature of the new life bestowed on him and can divest himself of this truth of faith as little as of himself, S. 193. In three circles that Christian truth of faith groups itself around the experience of regeneration. First the Christian, by virtue of his new life, posits those truths of faith which are given directly and immediately with the fact of regeneration, namely the reality of sin, of righteousness, and of future perfection. This is the domain of the central, immanent truths, which still belong entirely to the self-consciousness of the Christian. Around this there forms a second circle of truths; the believer can namely explain this new condition only by the reality of the personal God, the existence of God as Triune, and the reconciliation acquired by the God-man. These three together form the group of the transcendent truths, and indicate the factors which have brought about that moral change of regeneration in the Christian. And finally around this there forms yet a third circle of truths, namely the transeunt, which indicate the means by which the above-mentioned transcendent factors effect the experience of salvation in the Christian; and these are church, word of God, Scripture, sacrament, miracles, revelation and inspiration. Finally, Christian certainty also includes yet a definite relation [436] of the regenerate person to natural life, to world and humanity, S. 191 f.

4. This speculative method had important advantages over the apologetic one of the rationalistic period. The clarity which in the previous century was held to be the standard of truth had changed revelation into a doctrine, the church into a school, regeneration into moral improvement, the crucified Christ into the wise man of Nazareth. Rationalism had falsified the whole Christian religion. With contempt the cultivated turned away from revelation and religion, from congregation and faith. It required courage, as Schleiermacher and Hegel did, to go back to the congregation and its dogmas and to discover therein, even if only in a certain sense, deep religious truth. It was a display of moral strength to break with the rationalistic demand for clarity, to take up the cause of the despised religion of the congregation and once again to pronounce the right and the value of the Christian faith. More still, there lay in the point of departure of Hegel and Schleiermacher a glorious truth. Thinking and being are most intimately related and correspond to each other. Rationalism tried to justify religion before the incompetent tribunal of common sense. But Hegel and Schleiermacher both saw that religion occupies its own place in human life, that it forms an independent magnitude and therefore also demands its own corresponding organ in human nature. Hegel and Schleiermacher differed among themselves in the indication of that organ; the one sought it in reason, the other in feeling. But both nevertheless rose above vulgar rationalism and both pointed to the harmony of subject and object. If with their subjective point of departure they had meant nothing else, their victory over rationalism would have deserved only assent. For the objective does not exist for us except insofar as it comes to our consciousness. It is not to be approached in any other way than through consciousness. And religion therefore is also no reality for me, except insofar as I have taken it up in feeling or reason, or whatever its organ may be in man. But Hegel and Schleiermacher did not content themselves with the proposition that [437] thinking and being correspond to each other; they identified both. This identification of thinking and being is the πρωτον ψευδος of speculative philosophy. Plato already proceeded from that, when he held the ideas to be the true world. Cartesius took it over in his cogito ergo sum. Spinoza spoke in the same sense of a causa sui, cujus essentia involvit existentiam. Fichte brought it to dominion in modern philosophy. The great question in that connection is this: do we think something because it exists, or does something exist because we must think it necessarily, logically? Speculative philosophy said the latter. But between thinking and being, however great an agreement may yet exist, there is a no less essential distinction. From thinking there is no conclusion to being, because the being of all creatures is no emanation of thinking but rests on an act of power. The essence of things is to be ascribed to thinking; existence only to the will of God. Human thinking therefore presupposes being; it first rises on the foundation of the created; we can only reflect on what has been pre-thought for us and comes to our consciousness through the world. If, however, with modern philosophy one rejects all material that has come to us from outside, and takes pure reason or abstract feeling as one’s point of departure, one retains nothing, or at most such a general, contentless and vague principle that nothing, let alone the whole world, or the whole Christian revelation and religion, can be derived from it, cf. above p. 148 v.

The philosophy of Hegel was therefore not so innocent as it could originally seem. It was the elaboration and application of Fichte’s proposition, that the I posits the not-I, that the subject creates the object. Schleiermacher in theology went back to this principle, because for him all authority in religion had fallen away, the rational and historical proofs for Christianity did not satisfy him, and God also in his opinion was unknowable to reason. Just as Kant wanted to restore by practical reason what he had lost by the critique of pure reason, so Schleiermacher too saw no possibility of saving religion except by proceeding from the religious subject, from feeling, from consciousness. From that it followed that dogmatics could be nothing other than description of states of mind and [438] thus properly belonged in historical theology. Theology became anthropology, pisteology, ecclesiology, and ceased to be what it had always claimed to be, knowledge of God. But Schleiermacher could nevertheless not stop there; also in religion it is not reality but truth that concerns us. The justification of Christianity was therefore in the first part of the encyclopaedia assigned to philosophy. Because there is no other ground any longer on which the Christian faith rests, philosophy receives the task of maintaining religion in its right and value. The Vermittelungstheologie took over Schleiermacher’s subjective point of departure, followed the track drawn by him for the defence of religious truth, and thus of itself came to an alliance with the dialectical, speculative method of Hegel. It could not be satisfied with the empirical knowledge of the content of Christian consciousness. Such a knowledge was, after all, no science. Not the fact of faith alone had to be ascertained; also the right and the truth of faith had to be demonstrated. And because one had no other proof, recourse was taken to speculation. The speculative theology that arose after Schleiermacher strove for a higher knowledge of Christianity than that which rested on authority and was obtained through faith. It was a renewal of the old Gnosticism. The Christian dogmas, such as the Trinity, the incarnation, the satisfaction, had to be not merely confessed as articles of faith but also be seen through and understood in their necessity. The that is not sufficient; the how and why must also be understood. The speculative Vermittelungstheologie therefore sought to escape the lower standpoint of authority and strove to make Christianity rest as absolute truth in itself. It did indeed proceed from faith but set knowledge as its goal. Necessity of thought was for it the proof of truth.

That this method would lead to no desired result either in philosophy or in theology was foreseeable and has been strikingly proved by history. Refutation is almost superfluous. Speculation has long since had its time. The philosophy of Hegel led, in Feuerbach and Strauss, to rejection of the whole Christian faith. The philosophical treatment of orthodox dogmatics by Schweizer, Scholten, Biedermann has only for a short time covered the [439] dogmatic poverty of modern theology. The more orthodox Vermittelungstheologie can with justice boast of the works of Rothe, Dorner, Lange, Martensen, Müller etc., which are full of deep and beautiful thoughts; but it has nevertheless absolutely not answered the expectation which it had aroused. It did not succeed in changing the foolishness of the cross into a wisdom of the world; it did not succeed, by its profound reflections, in winning the children of this age again for Christ. On the contrary, the mediation resulted in an even more radical separation of believing and knowing, of theology and philosophy, of congregation and world. The speculation, which was pursued by a part of the Vermittelungstheologie, also proceeded from the incorrect presupposition that Christianity was a logical system of thoughts, from whose first member all the following could be derived by thinking and reasoning. But if the being of things in general already rests not on thinking but on willing; if history, however much an execution of a counsel of God, is nevertheless something essentially different from an arithmetic example; then all the more is the Christian religion distinct from a logical system of thoughts. For Christianity is history, it is a history of grace, and grace is something other and something more than a logical conclusion. In the Christian religion, therefore, even the deepest thinker never gets beyond the childlike standpoint of authority and faith. See, besides the literature mentioned above on p. 151, the art. Specul. Theol. and Theosophie in Herzog1. Pelt, Theol. Encyklopädie 1843 S. 532 f. Rothe, Theol. Ethik, 2e Aufl. § 1 f. J. Müller, Die christl. Lehre v. d. Sünde, 5te Aufl. I S. 1-31.

5. The theology of Dr. Fr. H. R. Frank, professor at Erlangen, † Febr. 1894, deserves separate discussion. Frank combats as strongly as possible the so-called prolegomena of dogmatics, System der christl. Gewissheit 2e Aufl. 1884 I 36 f., and gives in their place a System der christlichen Gewissheit. This title, however, is not particularly clear. Certainty, assurance is a state of the soul and as such excludes system. If, however, certainty is here taken for the objects of faith, of which the Christian is certain, then System [440] der christl. Gewissheit is as much as System der christl. Wahrheit. That cannot be the intention, for Frank has given precisely this title to his second important work. In his System der christl. Gewissheit I 48 he explains himself more precisely and says that this system has as its object the Gewissheit, insofar as it extends to the zu verbürgenden Wahrheitsgehalt, i.e. certainty as a psychological state with all that which it assures insofar as it assures it. The system of Christian certainty consequently amounts to a formal schema of the different kinds and degrees of certainty, which proceed from Christian self-consciousness with respect to the objects of faith. Now, however, it is not Frank’s intention that the objects of the Christian faith would not already exist beforehand and would not be known. He expressly declares the contrary, Gew. I 313. Neither does he deny that Christian certainty would arise through the word, Dogmatische Studien, Erl. u. Leipz. 1892 S. 56. He does not wish to derive those objective truths from the reborn subject, ib. S. 68, 69. More still; when he has derived all that which follows from Christian self-consciousness from it, and has developed and completed the whole system of Christian certainty, then he says in clear words that there now follows a reversal, and that the last becomes the first. The Christian has, out of and through his own certainty, found the objective ground on which he rests with his life of faith, namely the grace of God in Christ, and from there he now builds up the system of Christian truth, Syst. der chr. Gew. II 281 f. Frank’s intention is only to give an answer to the question: how does a human being come to it, to rely on those objective factors of salvation, God, Christ, the H. Scripture, etc., to accept Scripture without qualification as God’s word, S. der chr. Gew. II 285 f. Dogm. Stud. 56. In the system of Christian certainty, therefore, Frank develops not so much the grounds of faith as the ways along which a human being comes to certainty concerning the Christian truths of faith. And in general Frank now says that a human being obtains this certainty not through historical or rational proofs and likewise not through authority, church, tradition, etc., but only through the experience of regeneration, S. d. chr. Gew. I 314.

The question which Frank has set before himself to answer, [441] is therefore of the very greatest importance; it is also necessary and good, for Christian certainty does not speak of itself and is often subject to doubt. The answer, too, which Frank gives to that question, is to a certain extent correct. Just as the eye is necessary in order to behold the light, so regeneration is needed in order to see the kingdom of heaven. But doubt may arise whether Frank’s System der christlichen Gewissheit corresponds to this his good intention. And for that doubt there is ground. For the whole system as such is in conflict with that expressed intention. If Frank had wished to do nothing other than describe how the believer comes to certainty, then he would only have brought to light the origin and the nature of that certainty and would have ended with that. Just as the Erkenntnisstheorie only develops the grounds on which belief in the external world rests, but does not derive every object in that world from this certainty, so the system of Christian certainty ought to have been content with indicating the grounds of certainty but ought not to have discussed its content. Then, however, there would also have been no system in the proper sense of the different objects to which certainty relates, possible. Frank, however, does much more; he gives a system. He derives all truths of faith successively, indeed not in a temporal but yet in a logical, causal sense, Gew. I 47, II 290 from regeneration. He has the Christian gradually come from the experience of regeneration to all Christian dogmata, “as if” he previously and by another way knew nothing of them. Thus Frank does with all dogmata, of sin, guilt, God, Trinity, incarnation, resurrection, etc. We get the impression as if all these truths, apart from Scripture and church, can be derived by the Christian from his regeneration. Frank continually confuses with one another the causa essendi and the causa cognoscendi, the objective ground of the truth of faith and the subjective way by which someone comes to certainty of it. He exchanges and identifies objective truth and subjective certainty. More than once he expresses himself thus, as if the regenerate person simply posits the objective truths of faith as realities by virtue of his spiritual experience, Gew. I 94, 193. He speaks of an Autonomie des christlichen Subjektes as Garanten der Wahrheit, I 151. [442]

6. All this is rooted in Frank in a peculiar theory of knowledge. He goes a good way along with the idealism of modern philosophy, I 58 f. The object as object, i.e. for the subject, is present only through that Setzung durch das Subject, ib. 61. Indeed Frank acknowledges the reality of the objective world, be it also not in an empiricist and sensualist sense, ib. 59, 60. But our knowledge never has to do with the Ding an und für sich, but always with the Ding für uns. That we ascribe to the object an existence in itself, comes from the fact that we see ourselves compelled to posit the object thus and not otherwise. Both directions, both empiricism and idealism, do that; they differ only in the manner in which they do it, ib. 61. Certainty is therefore always certainty concerning an object. It consists precisely in this, des Objectes inne zu sein als der Wahrheit, ib. 63. We do not get further by this reasoning than that our mind is so constituted that it must assume the objective reality of the objects of which it is certain; whether, however, the human mind does this rightly and does not suffer from hallucination, is for Frank no question. The necessity of the Setzung is for him the ultimate ground of objective reality. Certainty is for him not essential but, in terms of epistemology, the guarantee of truth. Reality is indeed the ground of being of certainty, but this is the ground of knowing of reality.

This epistemology Frank also applies to the Christian faith. The objective truths and facts of Christianity do indeed essentially and causally precede faith, but in an epistemological sense they follow upon it. Just as he now in philosophy takes the self-consciousness of man as his point of departure, so in theology he proceeds from the self-consciousness of the Christian, from the experience of regeneration. But against this point of departure and against this method there are many objections. a) This regeneration of the Christian and likewise all his other spiritual experiences, including even his certainty, have not arisen spontaneously in the Christian, but from the beginning and continually stand in connection with the objective factors of Scripture, church, etc. Frank himself acknowledges that repeatedly, I 123, 124, 191, etc.; but wrongly he then detaches spiritual experience a priori from those objective factors, in order to place it by itself and to let it rest in itself. [443] Frank’s point of departure, viz. the certainty of the Christian, is a mere abstraction; that certainty rests from the outset and always on the objective factors of salvation coming to the believer from without. b) By, as was remarked above, in the System der chr. Gew. II 281 f. acknowledging that the order now reverses, Frank himself concedes that regeneration offers no sufficient certainty for the objective truth of the Christian faith. For if the objective, causal order is indeed such as Frank indicates it in his System der christlichen Wahrheit, viz. such that the objective precedes, then this must also be the order of the whole system. The system must be an imprint of the order of being, not of the way in which someone comes to knowledge and certainty of the objective truth. For this way is so different that it is not susceptible of any systematic description, cf. above p. 50. c) The method according to which Frank constructs the objective dogmas out of the certainty of the Christian is one that does not fit in the Christian religion and theology. It is borrowed from speculative philosophy. Just as this took its point of departure in a general, from everything abstracted, vague principle; so the self-consciousness of the Christian detached from all objective factors, his certainty an sich, is the cogito ergo sum, the δος μοι που στω for Frank. From that he concludes first of all to the immanent truths of faith. Subsequently he calls the method of natural science to his aid and concludes regressively from the effect to the cause and wants to explain the new life of the Christian wholly according to empirical method, I 39. As the physicist by spectral analysis seeks to learn to know the chemical constituents of the sun, so Frank attempts to reduce the life of regeneration by analysis to its objective factors, I 315. The Christian, reflecting on his spiritual life, can explain it in no other way than by assuming that God is triune, that Christ became man and has made satisfaction, etc. d) This method is also in conflict with all Christian experience. Thus never did any Christian come to certainty concerning the objective truth. It goes entirely outside reality. Moreover it is impractical, for in doubt and unbelief the Christian lacks precisely that certainty which alone, according to Frank, can guarantee him the objective truth of his faith. In [444] such times he has need precisely of an objective word, an objective act, which sustains him and to which he can cling and from the depth of doubt and temptation can again lift himself up. e) Finally there are still various other objections to be raised against Frank’s system. Thus the transition from natural to spiritual knowing and likewise the connection between both in Frank suffers from lack of clarity. The distinction of a twofold I in the regenerate is liable to all manner of misunderstanding; in regeneration no new I is created in man but the I of the psychical man is renewed. The splitting of dogmatics into a system of certainty and a system of truth is not to be maintained, because the certainty of the Christian cannot be described without the truth to which it applies. But the above is enough to show that the accusation of subjectivism, even if it is vague, has not been brought wholly unjustly against the theology of Frank, just as against that of Ritschl. Cf. on Frank: Henri Bois, De la certitude chrétienne. Essai sur la théologie de Frank, Paris Fischbacher 1887. O. Flügel, Die spekulative Theol. der Gegenwart 2e Aufl. 1888 S. 188 f. Dr. A. Carlblom, Zur Lehre von der christl. Gewissheit, Leipzig 1874. Dorner, Christl. Glaubenslehre I 1879 S. 37 f. Pfleiderer, Die Entwicklung der protest. Theol. usw. 1891 S. 183 f. Polstorff, Der Subjektivismus in der modernen Theologie und sein Unrecht, Gütersloh 1893. Gottschick, Die Kirchlichkeit der s. g. kirchl. Theol. 1890 S. 110 f. Ernst Haack, Ueber Wesen und Bedeutung der christl. Erfahrung, Schwerin 1894.

§ 16. The Ethical-Psychological Method.

1. Besides the historical proofs and the speculative reasoning, there exists yet a third way by which one has sought to justify the Christian faith; and that is the ethical-psychological method. This does not conceive Christianity as a doctrine that can be demonstrated, or as a historical fact that can be proved; but as a religious-ethical power, which [445] addresses itself to heart and conscience. Therefore it also does not think that Christianity can be made acceptable to every human being without distinction and in all circumstances, but it demands in the human being a prior moral disposition, a sense for the good, a need for redemption, a feeling of dissatisfaction, etc. And when Christianity then comes into contact with such a human being, it commends itself to his conscience as divine truth without reasoning and proof. For it satisfies his religious-ethical needs, it corresponds to his higher, noble inspirations, it reconciles him with himself, it frees him from the guilt and the burden of sin, it grants him peace, comfort, blessedness, and in all this it proves itself as the power and the wisdom of God.

This proof for the truth of Christianity is also already very old. Tertullian already appealed to the testimony that the soul involuntarily renders for Christ, the test. an. 1. cf. Apol. c. 17. Arnobius, adv. gentes II, 2. With many Apologists we find the thought that pagan philosophy and mythology are unfit to give a satisfactory answer to the questions concerning God, man, and world; to satisfy the religious needs and to cultivate a truly moral life. Christianity, on the other hand, comprises all the true and good that was also still present, scattered, in the pagan world; it gives material for thought, it renews the heart, it cultivates all kinds of virtues; Christianity is the true philosophy. Ὁσα οὐν παρα πασι καλως εἰρηται, ἡμων των χριστιανων ἐστιν, Just. Mart. Apol. II 13. cf. Harnack, D. G. I 421 f. 436 f. Likewise Duns Scotus points, in the prologue to his Sententiae, to the reasonableness of the content of revelation, to its moral operation, and to its sufficiency for man, in order to reach his destination. The arguments, adduced by Roman Catholic and Protestant theologians for the truth of revelation, were not only derived from the miracles and predictions etc.; but also from the beauty and majesty of the style of Scripture, from the mutual agreement of all its parts, from the sublimity and divinity of its content, from the operation and influence that had proceeded from the Christian religion upon the intellectual, moral, aesthetic, social, and political life of the individual and of families and peoples, [446] Bellarminus, de Conc. et Eccl. lib. 4. cap 11 sq. Perrone, Praelect. Theol. I 129 sq. Jansen I 158 sq. 269 sq. Hake, Handbuch der allgem. Religionswiss. 1887 II 228 f. Calv. Inst. I c. 8. Maresius, Syst. theol. loc. I § 31. Synops. pur. theol. Disp. 2. § 17 sq. 25. Vitringa, Doctr. christ. relig. cap. 2 § 26-29. Hoornbeek, Theol. pract. I p. 48. Quenstedt, Theol. didact-pol. I cap. 3 sect. 2 qu. 16. Glassius, Philol. Sacra I tract. 3. etc. Even Rousseau could not withhold his praise, in his Emile, from the life and teaching of Jesus: oui, si la vie et la mort de Socrate sont d’un sage, la vie et la mort de Jesus sont d’un Dieu. Supranaturalism divided the proofs for Christianity into external and internal, and by the latter understood precisely those which showed the agreement of Christianity with the rational and moral nature of man and were especially of force for his heart and conscience. The theologians of this direction also saw that the proofs were nevertheless not sufficient for every human being without distinction, that they afforded not mathematical but moral certainty, and therefore also presupposed a certain moral disposition on man’s side, Knapp, Glaub. I S. 71 f. Bretschneider, Dogm. I S. 281 f. Id., Entwicklung aller in der Dogm. vork. Begriffe, 4e Aufl. S. 219-230. Muntinghe, Theol. Christ. pars theor. § 38. Vinke, Theol. Christ. Dogm. Comp. p. 17 sq. Voigt, Fundamentaldogm. S. 269 f. Oosterzee, Dogm. I bl. 199. 234 v. 252 v. Gretillat, Exposé de theol. systém. II 163 s. 176 s. A. B. Bruce, Apologetics, Edinb. 1892 p. 42.

Above all, however, the ethical-psychological method has come into honour through Pascal and Vinet. In both, however, it was not yet in opposition to the historical demonstration. The historical proofs even form a necessary element in Pascal’s apology and were by him himself very highly valued, Wijnmalen, Pascal as opponent of the Jesuits and defender of Christianity 1865 bl. 164-188. But he nevertheless assigned to those historical proofs another place and significance. His apology is anthropological, it proceeds from the misery of man, and wishes to awaken in him a need for redemption. And then it shows that that need finds no satisfaction in the pagan religions and in the philosophical systems but only in the Christian religion prepared by Israel’s religion. And also [447] Vinet did not disdain the historical proofs, Discours sur quelques sujets religieux, 6e ed. Paris 1862 p. 29. Essais de philos. morale et relig. 1837 p. 36 s., but he nevertheless deems them insufficient and attaches greater value to the inward proof. He wishes that the apologist should walk the ethical path and recommend Christianity from its ethical side, as the true humanity, to the conscience of man, cf. his l’Evangile compris par le coeur in the Discours t. a. p. p. 29-41, and Le regard, in his Etudes Evangéliques 1847, cf. Dr. J. Cramer, Alex. Vinet, Leiden, Brill 1883 bl. 99 v. 117 v. Since then this method, with neglect and sometimes even with contempt of the historical proofs, has been adopted and honoured by Astié, De theol. des verstands en de theol. des gewetens, from the French by D. Ch. de la Saussaye 1866. Pressensé, Les Origines, Paris 1883 p. 114-128. Sécrétan, La civilisation et la croyance, Paris, Alcan 1887, Saussaye, my Theol. van d. l. S. bl. 55 v. 64 v.; and furthermore we find this same demonstration for Christianity in Delitzsch, System der christl. Apol. Leipzig 1869 S. 30, 34 f. Baumstark, Christl. Apol. auf anthropol. Grundlage I 1872 S. 34-36. Köstlin, Die Begründung unserer sittlich-relig. Ueberzeugung, Berlin 1893 S. 58 f. etc.

2. Related to this method is the moral proof, as it was advanced by Kant. Kant assumed two sources for our knowledge, sensibility for the matter, and the understanding for the form of our knowledge. But above that there now still stands reason, pure Vernunft, whose a priori synthetic Grundsatz is this, that it ascends from the conditioned to the unconditioned, Kr. d. r. Vern. ed. Kirchmann 5te Aufl. S. 300, cf. 310, 312, 319, 347. By virtue of this peculiarity the theoretical reason forms various Grundsätze or ideas, ib. 308, which are absolute, unbedingt, transcendent and are produced by reason not arbitrarily, but in accordance with its nature, ib. 312 f. Those ideas are especially threefold, God, freedom and immortality, ib. 317 f. These ideas, however, cannot be demonstrated in their objective truth, but can only be derived subjectively from the nature of reason. The objects of those ideas are not perceptible, and thus not knowable. We arrive at those ideas only through a necessary Vernunftschluss, ib. 321. They are all three theoretically unprovable. [448] They do not increase our knowledge, but only regulate and order it, and make us view and consider everything thus, “asob” those ideas had reality, ib. 337, 425, 512, 530, 535, 537, 539, 540 f. That they have reality and what they are, the theoretical reason cannot teach us. But now reason is not only theoretical but also practical. That is: it bears a moral law, a categorical imperative, within itself and holds duty before us. And it demands that we shall fulfil that duty unconditionally, without ulterior intention, solely out of respect for that duty as such. It thus reveals that the human being still belongs to another order than that of nature, namely to a moral world-order; that he has to strive after a highest good, which far surpasses the sensible goods of life and consists in nothing else than in the unity of virtue and happiness. If this command of duty is now no illusion but practicable, and the highest good, the unity of virtue and happiness, will indeed once be attained; if, in other words, the moral world-order in us and outside us will once triumph over the order of nature; then God, freedom, immortality must exist. These three are thus postulates of practical reason, their reality is demanded by the moral law, practical reason has need of their existence, Kr. der prakt. Vernunft, ed. Kirchmann, 3e Aufl. 1882. S. 159 f.

That is in the main Kant’s famous theory of postulates. But it is not above criticism. In the first place it is not clear who derives these postulates from practical reason. Kant seems to think that practical reason itself does this. But then there are two practical reasons, a preceding and a following one, one that holds up duty and one that from that by reasoning concludes to the existence of the ideas. Practical reason then itself becomes theoretical again, Rauwenhoff, Wijsb. v. d. godsd. 325, 328. Of greater weight is another objection, namely the ground on which theoretical or practical reason concludes to the existence of those ideas; what is the urgent motive for those postulates? If that ground, that motive lies in practical reason in itself, in the categorical imperative, in the command of duty as such; then even the most immoral person can from the phenomenon of that practical reason conclude to the reality of these three ideas. Now it sometimes seems as if Kant really [449] means this. He repeatedly gives the impression as if practical reason in itself, without more, in order to be able to realize itself, must posit these postulates. He says not only that every morally developed human being is authorized to postulate thus, but that it is unavoidable for every rational being to conclude thus; that the assumptions of the existence of God, freedom and immortality are just as necessary as the moral law itself, Kr. d. pr. V. 173 note; and he argues precisely S. 146 f. 149 f. that the moral law, in order to be practicable, must assume those three ideas as existing. But, if this is Kant’s meaning, then we are not dealing with psychologically mediated but with objectively logical postulates; and the question arises, why is such a logical postulate then nevertheless not knowledge, not an element of theoretical reason? Why does Kant call this knowledge only practical? Therefore there is more in favor of thinking that the ground and the motive for these postulates does not lie in practical reason in itself, but in the moral disposition, in the moral will of the human being, who seriously, be it also with weakness, tries to obey the duty which practical reason prescribes to him. Therefore he declares in the Kr. d. r. Vernunft S. 638 f., that the moralische Glaube is a holding-for-true on psychological, moral grounds; therefore this moral faith does not say, it is certain, but I am morally certain; therefore it rests on the Voraussetzung moralischer Gesinnungen, ib. 639. And likewise he says, Kr. d. pr. V. S. 172: der Rechtschaffene darf sagen; I will that there is a God, I do not let this faith be taken from me, my moral interest demands the existence of God; and S. 173: moral faith is not a command, a faith that is commanded is an absurdity; and S. 173-175: the consciousness of duty is objective and likewise the possibility to act morally and to be happy; but whether that connection between virtue and happiness is now established by a personal God or by the coherence of nature, we do not know. The moral interest here gives the decisive factor; it stands in unserer Wahl, but practical Vernunft decides for faith in a wise Creator of the world. Indeed, in Kant a double striving is noticeable, on the one hand to maintain the rationality and on the other hand the freedom of faith. Faith in God, freedom and immortality is in so far objective as it is postulated by [450] the practical reason that is proper to all, but nevertheless also again depends on the moral disposition of the individual human being. Cf. on practical Vernunft and Kant’s theory of postulates inter alia Schopenhauer, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, 6e Aufl. I 610-625. J. Gottschick, Kants Beweis für das Dasein Grottes 1878. E. Katzer, Der moralische Gottesbeweis nach Kant und Herbart, Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1878 S. 482-532, 635-689. B. Pünjer, Gesch. der christl. Religionsphil. II S. 19-30. Fr. Paulsen, Was uns Kant sein kann, Separat-Abdruck aus der Vierteljahrsschrift für wiss. Philos. V S. 57 f. Rauwenhoff, Wijsbeg. v. d. godsd. 321 v. Leendertz, The ethical-evangelical standpoint and the Christian-religious faith 1891 I 215 v.

3. The significance of Kant for theology consisted chiefly in this, that he made a separation between phaenomenon and noumenon, erklärbare and erlebbare Wirklichkeit, world of being and of values, knowing and believing, science and religion, theoretical and practical reason. Religion came to stand alongside and outside science, and rested on its own foundation, on that of man’s moral nature. Already at once the influence of Kant’s philosophy on theology was noticeable. Supranaturalism argued, on the ground of the unknowability of the supersensible, the necessity of revelation. Rationalism attached itself to Kant’s rational morality and moralistic religion. Schleiermacher adopted Kant’s doctrine of the unknowability of the supernatural and his separation of religion and science, but sought for religion a safe refuge in feeling. But especially after the vanity of the historical-apologetic and of the speculative proof had become apparent, many went back to Kant. In this country this already took place through Hoekstra. Dissatisfied by the intellectualism and determinism of Scholten, he sought the foundation of religious faith with Kant in practical reason and its postulates. Faith is according to Hoekstra a moral act of the will, a postulate of our inward spiritual man over against the experiences of life; it rests on faith in the truth of our own inner being. That worldview is alone the true one, which corresponds to our inner being, to our moral needs, Bronnen en grondsl. van [451] het godsd. geloof 1864 bl. 23 v. 45 v. Later Hoekstra in an article in the Theol. Tijdschr. 1872 bl. 1 v. has specified his thought more precisely, and grounded religious faith not on our needs, ideals, aspirations in general, but specifically on the unconditional sense of duty, ib. 32, cf. Wijsgeerige Godsdienstleer I 220. In connection with Hoekstra, Ph. R. Hugenholtz, Studien op godsdienst- en zedekundig gebied, Amst. 1884-89, e.g. II 142 v. Rauwenhoff, Wijsb. v. d. godsd. 335 v. Leendertz, Het ethisch-evang. standpunt en het christ. godsd. geloof. Rott. 1891 I 7, 10, 57 v. and others let religious faith take root in moral self-consciousness. The ethical moderns have gone one step further; refraining from the attempt to arrive at a philosophical system, they have separated faith and science as sharply as possible and have limited religion to the domain of the moral. Religion is moral idealism, devotion to the moral ideal, faith in the power of the good, which power then according to most still indeed has an objective existence, but with some is nothing but a conception of the human spirit. Cf. Rauwenhoff, Wijsb. v. d. godsd. bl. 116 v., 366 v., who on bl. 116 also indicates litt. Furthermore still J. W. v. d. Linden, in de Gids, Dec. 1883 and Bijblad van de Herv. 9 Sept. 1887. Dr. A. Bruining, Verschillende schakeeringen van modernen, Bijblad v. d. Herv. 10 Febr. 1885. De Bussy, Ethisch idealisme 1875. Id. Over de waarde en den inhoud van godsd. voorstellingen 188O. Id. De maatstaf van het zedelijk oordeel, enz. 1889. Id. Theol. Tijdsch. Jan. 1895 bl. 1-14. A similar dualism is also found with Dr. J. H. Gunning, Overlevering en wetenschap 1879, Dr. J. W. Gunning, in the introduction before Christendom en Natuurwetenschap, eight lectures of Fred. Temple, Haarlem 1887, and likewise with Doedes, when he makes a separation between faith, which rests on grounds, and science, which rests on proofs, Inl. tot de Leer van God 1880 bl. 7 v.

4. In Germany the return to Kant dates from Liebmann’s book on Kant und die Epigonen 1865 and F. A. Lange’s Geschichte des Materialismus 1866. Cf. Hans Vaihinger, Hartmann, Dühring und Lange, Iserlohn 1876 S. 18 f. 54 f. usw. Ed. von Hartmann, Neukantianismus, Schopenhauerianismus und [452] Hegelianismus, 2e Aufl. 1877 S. 1-118. In theology Kantianism was renewed by Ritschl and Lipsius. The principia of the theology of Ritschl and his school are these: first of all a separation must be made between metaphysics and religion (theology). The metaphysical concept of the Absolute has nothing to do with the religious idea of God, Ritschl, Theol. u. Metaph. 1881 S. 13. Rechtf. u. Vers. III2 201 f. 211 f. 221 f. Herrmann, Die Religion im Verhältniss zum Welterkennen und zur Sittlichkeit, Halle 1879 carried the separation through still further, and made a distinction between the object of metaphysics and of religion, ib. S. 100, between the explainable and the experienceable Wirklichkeit, S. 100, 107, between the natural and the moral world, S. 269, 355. Cf. also Kaftan, Das Wesen der christl. Religion, Basel 1881 S. 200. Subsequently theology has not to take its standpoint before faith, in a theologia naturalis, which does not exist, but in the faith of the congregation. From there it must proceed and consider and appraise everything, Ritschl, Theol. u. Metaph. S. 11 f. 61. Rechtf. u. Vers. I2 364 III 2-8, 13, 32, 162, 165, 198, 304, 356 f. Orthodoxy did indeed still let the fides historica, the assensus, precede the fides salvifica, i.e. the fiducia, but that was in conflict with the original doctrine of the Reformation in Luther, Melanchton and Calvin. In that way faith would always again depend on external proofs, consist in accepting some truths, and be deprived of all freedom, independence and certainty, Ritschl, Fides implicita, Bonn, 1890 S. 69. Gottschick, Die Kirchlichkeit der sogenannten kirchl. Theol. Freiburg, 1890 S. 11-53, 69 f. Traub, Glaube u. Theol., Stud. u. Krit. 1893, 3tes Heft S. 568-588. Herrmann, Die Gewissheit des Glaubens und die Freiheit der Theol., Freiburg 1887, 2e Aufl. 1889. Id. Der Verkehr des Christen mit Gott, Stuttgart 1886 S. 18 f. 83 f. 92 f. 2e Aufl. 1892. Id. Der evang. Glaube und die Theol. Albr. Ritschls 1890. Id. in Beweis des Glaubens 1890. Kaftan, Brauchen wir ein neues Dogma, 1890, S. 37. Id. Glaube u. Dogma. Zeits. f. Theol. u. Kirche v. Gottschick 1891 S. 478 f. cf. 1893 S. 427 f. Kattenbusch, Ueber religiösen Glauben im Sinne des Christ. Giessen 1887. In the third place the theology of Ritschl attempts to bind saving faith to the historical revelation in the person of Christ. Faith is precisely as fiducia [453] not acceptance of a doctrine but trust in a person. But then faith naturally does not arise of itself from man, but presupposes an object and some prior knowledge of that object. Herrmann even acknowledges that the notitia is a Vorbedingung des Glaubens, Verkehr des Christen mit Gott, 2e Aufl. S. 182. Zeits. f. Theol. u. K. von Gottschick IV, 4tes Heft S. 273. On what ground does that object, that historical revelation in Christ, now stand firm? From where comes the certainty concerning its reality? The answer that is given to that important question by the Ritschlians is very different. Ritschl himself actually gives no answer. He refers the individual man to the congregation, which has the experience of the forgiveness of sins and of the sonship of God, but does not say what must compel the individual man to join that congregation. Only he grounds the existence of God and the reasonableness of the Christian worldview on the self-appraisal of the spirit, Rechtf. u. Vers. III2 200 f. 209 f. 573 f. His followers, however, usually take other paths and let the truth of the revelation in Christ rest on inner experience. The contemplation of Christ strikes us by his moral greatness; He makes a deep impression on the unprejudiced mind, humbles but also raises up to the confidence that God is our Father, Herrmann, Der Verkehr des Christen mit Gott 1886 S. 18 f. 26 f. Beweis des Glaubens 1890 S. 81 f. Gottschick, Die Kirchlichkeit der sogen. kirchl. Theol. 1890 S. 222, 226. Traub, Stud. u. Krit. 1893, S. 577. cf. Köstlin, Die Begründung unserer sittl. relig. Ueberzeugung 1893, S. 98 f. Frank, Dogmatische Studien 1892, S. 46 f. Herrmann combats as strongly as possible that historical proofs can convince us of the truth of the person of Christ; he also leaves historical criticism completely free and withholds nothing from it, but he nevertheless says that the Christus extra nos is the ground of his faith, Zeits. f. Theol. u. K. 1894, IV 4tes Heft S. 281; he speaks of a zweifellose Thatsache, S. 280; finds that the basic features of the image of Jesus allow no doubt about the historical reality of Jesus, S. 285, and acknowledges this objective truth not on the ground of proofs, but because he has felt and lived through the power of the life of Jesus over himself, S. 288; because Jesus’ life has the power, sich unserm Gewissen als eine wirkliche Thatsache [454] zu bezeugen, S. 293. And only that is content of faith which has the power sich dem Gewissen als wirkliche Thatsache zu bezeugen, S. 293. A deeper analysis of the truth and certainty of faith is not given to us in the school of Ritschl; the impression that the person of Christ makes on us, the power that proceeds from the gospel in our mind, the moral experience of humility and joy, the agreement of the idea of the kingdom of God with our needs and demands, Kaftan, Die Wahrheit der chr. Relig. Basel 1889 S. 537 f., seems to vouch for the truth of the revelation in the person and the life of Christ. Finally the content of faith in the theology of Ritschl is reduced to a minimum. Ritschl said, Rechtf. u. Vers. III2 369 cf. 191 f. alle Erkenntnisse religiöser Art sind directe Werthurtheile. Philosophy also does appraise. But there the Werthurtheile are incidental and accompanying. In religion they are independent; they rest on man’s pleasure or displeasure, on his weal or woe; they have reference to his relation to the world, and are independent of science. If science therefore keeps to its own terrain and does not attempt to build up a worldview, then no conflict is possible, Ritschl, Theol. u. Metaph. 7, 9. Rechtf. u. Vers. III2 189-197. Fides implicita S. 68, 70. Herrmann went still further and even expressed that the reality of faith for science was an imagination, Die Religion usw. S. 108, 112. But nevertheless Ritschl and Herrmann held fast to the historical revelation of God in Christ as foundation and source of religious faith and in so far let religion consist not only in Werth- but also in Seinsurtheile. It was also all too clear that religious knowing just as much includes the conviction of the reality of its object as scientific knowing. Werthurtheile are dependent on Seinsurtheile or else nothing but imagination. Kaftan, Das Wesen der christl. Religion S. 35 f. 41 f. 55 f. accordingly also acknowledges that the Werthurtheile presuppose objective truth, even though in erkenntnisstheoretischen sense he also lets this depend on those. And Häring, Die Theol. und der Vorwurf der doppelten Wahrheit 1886 does say that practical, moral grounds move us to faith, but nevertheless adds that the Christian faith does not carry the guarantee for the truth of what is believed in [455] itself, for wishing is no proof for the fulfillment of the wish; but that it finds that guarantee in the historical fact of the revelation of God in Christ, cf. Häring also Zur Lehre von der h. Schrift, Stud. u. Krit. 1893, 1es Heft S. 177-212, especially S. 199 f. Hence that others point out that, even if so much in Scripture may succumb for criticism, yet enough still remains standing. Die ganze Erscheinung Christi can nevertheless not be unhistorical. Faith is independent of the supernatural birth of Christ, Harnack, Das apost. Glaubensbekenntniss, Berlin, 1892, of the resurrection, Harnack, Dogmengesch. I2 73 f. Gottschick, Die Kirchlichkeit usw. S. 90, of the miracles. Only if historical-critical research would want to take from us that Christ is our Lord, then Christian faith would come into resistance against that, cf. Otto Ritschl, Der histor. Christus, der christl. Glaube u. die theol. Wissenschaft, Zeits. f. Theol. u. Kirche v. Gottschick III 4, 5tes Heft S. 371 f., Traub, Stud. u. Krit. 1893, S. 577 f. Erich Haupt, Die Bedeutung der h. Schrift für den evang. Christen, 1891. Max Reischle, Der Glaube an Jesus Christus und die geschichtliche Erforschung seines Lebens, Leipzig 1893. Of the rich litt. on the theology of Ritschl and his school there are only mentioned Stählin, Kant, Lotze, Albr. Ritschl 1888. Pfleiderer, Die Ritschl’sche Theol., Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. April 1889 S. 162 f., also published separately at Braunschweig by Schwetske. Id. on Herrmann, Kaftan and Bender, Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1891 S. 321-383. Id. Entw. der prot. Theol. 1891 S. 228 f. Flügel, Die spekul. Theol. der Gegenwart 1888 S. 230 f. Frank, Die Theol. A. Ritschl’s 3e Aufl. Erl. 1891. Flügel, Ritschl’s philos. und theol. Ansichten, 2e Aufl. 1892. G. Mielke, Das System A. Ritschl’s dargestellt, nicht kritisirt, Bonn Marcus 1894. Saussaye on Ritschl, Theol. Stud. by Dr. Daubanton 1884 p. 259 ff. and my art. there 1888 p. 369 ff.

5. Ultimately the same standpoint is also adopted by R. A. Lipsius, Lehrbuch der ev. prot. Dogm. 1876, 2e Aufl. 1879, 3e Aufl. 1893. Dogmatische Beiträge, Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1878, also published separately Leipzig, Barth, 1878. Neue Beiträge, Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1885, and published separately under the title Philosophie und Religion, Leipzig 1885. [456] Die Hauptpunkte der christ. Glaubenslehre, Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1889 S. 1-41, and published separately Braunschw. 1889, 2e Aufl. 1891. Lipsius too limits science to the domain of inward and outward experience, Lehrb. der ev. prot. Dogm. § 1. Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1885 S. 181 f. 1889 S. 1 f. But now Lipsius nevertheless acknowledges, in distinction from Ritschl and Herrmann, still some right of metaphysics. Our reason feels need and impulse to ascend from the world of experience to an unbedingten Grund, and thus forms the concepts of the Absolute, the soul, etc., Jahrb. 1885 S. 200, 278 f. 372, 395, ib. 1889 S. 3. Our spirit strives for unity, Jahrb. 1885 S. 283. But this metaphysical or philosophical thinking is no longer science proper, it produces no positive content, it does not increase our possession of truth, as Biedermann thinks; it yields only Formbestimmingen, Grundbegriffe, regulative Prinzipien, Jahrb. 1885 S. 275-283. When we nevertheless want to put some content into it and want to obtain transcendent knowledge by it, then we transfer sensible forms onto it, and entangle ourselves in an antinomy. The logical and the symbolic conception of the metaphysical struggle with each other, Jahrb. 1885 S. 281-283, ib. 1889 S. 4. Along this path, therefore, no knowledge of the supersensible is to be obtained. But there is still another path, that of practical, sittliche Nöthigungen. Man namely is a thinking but also a willing and acting being, and he feels himself compelled, as such, to maintain himself over against the world. From the Widerspruch between man’s spirit and nature religion is born in him. This is a practical matter of the spirit, and arises not first of all from theoretical but from practical needs. The practical, ethical impulse, to maintain himself in his existence, urges man to faith in God, to the postulating of a supersensible world. Faith thus begins where science ceases, Jahrb. 1885 S. 377 f. 557 f. This faith brings with it a certainty of its own, not a scientific but a moral certainty, a certainty of experience, resting on the erlebte Gewissheit of my own person, Jahrb. 1885 S. 385 f. 438 f. For another this certainty may perhaps be nothing but imagination, but for the subject himself it is certain, ib. 387 f. Such experience is also the only criterion for the truth of the Christian [457] religion, of revelation in Christ. The appropriation of the historical revelation into personal possession is the only direct proof for the truth of the Christian religion. The personal experience of believers confirms the historical revelation, just as the latter awakens and strengthens the former, Jahrb. 1885 S. 600 f. And the Christian, thus believing, then makes confession of supersensible realities; in the dogmas he gives not a description of states of mind and Werthurtheile, but Seinsurtheile concerning the relation of man to God and of God to man and world. These religiöse Aussagen are objectively true, if they stand in unbreakable, logically necessary connection with the realization of our highest destination of life. Not accidental, but indeed necessary Werthurtheile prove the objective truth of the religious utterances, Jahrb. 1885 S. 440, 445. For the believer himself these proofs are sufficient; and over against non-believers he still has an indirect apologetic proof in this, that practical Nöthigungen compel man to religion; religion is no compulsion, no natural power, but is practically, psychically necessary, and is in so far grounded in man’s being, Jahrb. 1885 S. 627 f. 639 f. Dogmatically the believer moreover still has the task, to combine the content of faith with all his knowledge of the world into one whole. Herrmann has kept believing and knowing as strictly as possible and to the end separated. But Lipsius lets the content of both indeed arise from a source of its own, but then nevertheless wants finally to combine it into a einheitliche Weltanschauung. Dogmatics cannot indeed prove the content of faith and elevate believing to knowing, but it can and must bring the Christian, the teleological world-view into connection with the causal world-view, with the knowledge of the world obtained from elsewhere, and it then has to show that there is no conflict, that the conflict is only apparent, that there is in fact unity. Even if the dogmas contain no scientific truth, no theoretical Erkenntnisse; even if they are all figurative and anthropomorphistic; they nevertheless may not be in conflict with the firm results of science. The unity of our spirit forbids the acceptance of a double truth. The religious idea of God and the concept of the Absolute, freedom and necessity, teleological and causal world-view etc. must be compatible [458] with each other, Jahrb. 1885 S. 648 f. 658 f. 662 f. ib. 1889 S. 6. Dogm. § 3. Cf. concerning Lipsius inter alia Ed. von Hartmann, Die Krisis des Christ. in der mod. Theol. Berlin 1880 S. 69 f. Biedermann, Christl. Dogm. 1884 I 58 f. 160 f. Flügel, Die spekul. Theol. der Gegenwart 1888 S. 95 f. Pfleiderer, Entw. der prot. Theol. 1891, S. 241 f. Bruining, Theol. Tijdschr. Nov. 1894 etc.

6. This ethical, practical method of justifying religion and Christianity certainly deserves far preference over historical and speculative argumentation. It does not conceive religion merely as doctrine, which must be justified for the understanding, nor as a condition of the subject, which must be analytically dissected by thought. But it sees in religion a historical, objective power, which corresponds to the moral constitution of man and finds therein its proof and its justification. But yet this method too is subject to serious objections. In the first place, the agreement of a religion with the moral needs of man is most certainly of great significance. The satisfaction of heart and conscience is the seal and the crown of religion. A religion which cannot comfort in mourning and sorrow, in life and in dying, cannot be the true religion. Of other sciences, logic, mathesis, physics, etc., we do not expect that they will offer comfort to the guilty conscience and the saddened mind. But a religion which stands helpless at the sick- and deathbed, which cannot confirm the doubting and cannot raise up the downcast, is not worthy of that name, Gottschick, Die Kirchlichkeit usw. S. 4 f. The so often made antithesis between truth and comfort does not belong in religion. A truth which contains no comfort, which is not connected with the religious-ethical life of man, thereby also ceases to be a religious truth. Just as medical science in all its parts is governed by the healing of the sick, so in religion man is concerned with peace and blessedness. But however highly this comfort in religion may be esteemed and however much it may, together with other proofs, be taken into consideration as a powerful motivum credibilitatis; yet it, alone and set by itself, is insufficient as proof. For some comfort and satisfaction is to be found in all religions; the experiences of [459] misery and guilt, of doubt and trust, of patience and hope are present not only among Christians, but also to a greater or lesser degree among Mohammedans, Buddhists, etc. A religion which offers no comfort and grants no satisfaction to the moral needs of man is certainly false; but conversely not every religion is yet the true one in which man seeks his comfort and his satisfaction. Further, the needs of heart and conscience, to which some religion or other corresponds, are either themselves awakened under the influence of that religion, and then their satisfaction is fairly natural and a proof of little force; or they have arisen outside that religion, under other influences and under the operation of another religion, and then precisely that peculiar need which this religion presupposes is not present and the satisfaction is entirely lacking. Of an unconscious aspiration of the soul toward Christianity, in reality almost nothing is found. Of a ripeness of the peoples for the Gospel, the history of missions teaches bitterly little. The Gospel is not according to man, not according to the needs, as man himself imagines them. Outside revelation man does not know himself either. The oft-repeated assertion that Christianity corresponds to man’s needs brings with it the serious danger that the truth is made ready-made for human nature. The proposition that the truth is genuinely human because it is divine so easily turns into the opposite, that it is only divine because it is human. Preaching to please, instead of to the heart of Jerusalem, is not uncommon even on Christian pulpits. Next, the experience in which the proof for the truth of religion is sought is a very floating concept. What then is there in a historical religion that can really be content of experience? Experienced are some religious-ethical emotions of guilt, remorse, forgiveness, gratitude, joy, etc. But all the rest that occurs in a historical religion falls outside experience. For not a single one of the twelve articles of faith can the “I believe” be replaced by the “I experience”. That God is Creator of heaven and earth, that Christ is God’s only-begotten Son, conceived by the H. Spirit, born of Mary, etc., etc., is of course not susceptible of any experience. On the foundation of religious-ethical experience the truth of historical Christianity can [460] never be built. The consequence of this elevation of experience to principium cognoscendi is then also only that the content of faith and dogmatics is more and more detached from all that is historical and is restricted to the so-called religious-ethical. That, however, is nothing other than a new form for the already repeatedly attempted in vain separation between idea and fact in Christianity. The fruit, however, can no longer be plucked when the tree is cut down; and the fresh, clear water no longer flows when the spring is stopped.

7. Instead of in the satisfaction of heart and conscience, others have sought the content and the proof of the Christian religion in so-called Werthurtheile. Yet this is only another name for the same thing. If by that nothing else were meant than that a dogma must always contain a religious-ethical value, no one could raise any objection to these Werthurtheile. In every dogma one must, as was already said earlier, hear the heart of religion beat. But in the theology of Ritschl these Werthurtheile acquired a wholly different meaning. Detached from all the metaphysical, they became the foundation and the content of dogmatics. And that is impossible. Religion includes the conviction of the reality of its object. Religious and ethical valuation presupposes the truth of the person or the thing to which it relates. Werthurtheile are therefore dependent on Seinsurtheile; they stand and fall with these. If the valuation of an object is not grounded in its reality, it becomes nothing but an imagination, a creation of fantasy or an ideal-formation in the sense of Lange and Pierson. It is therefore not admissible to say: let the facts be thus or otherwise, the valuation decides; for with the facts this too changes. If Israel’s people and religion has developed as the more recent criticism represents it, the valuation of the Old Testament must in principle be altered. A modern view of history and an orthodox valuation fit poorly together. If Christ is not truly God, then he also cannot have for the Christian the value of God. And so it is with all dogmata. Religious valuation stands in the closest connection with objective truth in the [461] closest connection. Many a mist would disappear if, according to Biedermann’s wish, the fashionable word: Werthurtheile were banished. Cf. also Scheibe, Die Bedeutung der Werthurtheile für das relig. Erkennen, Halle 1893. O. Ritschl, Ueber Werthurtheile, Freiburg Mohr 1895. Gradually the conviction gains ground that religious-ethical experience and valuation, however great their weight, nevertheless cannot guarantee the truth of their object nor can they be the standard for the content of dogmatics. Psychologically too this conception is not to be justified. For the decision about the reality of things does not belong to will or feeling, to heart or conscience, but to consciousness. Only when the reality of a thing is established for consciousness can the other faculties of the soul become active with it. Wishing, feeling, experiencing, imagining in no way includes the reality of their objects. The way to the heart is paved by the head.

Yet many, although seeing the weakness of the experiential and evaluative proof, have still tried to salvage something of it by means of Kant’s postulate theory. One then indeed concedes that the moral nature of man may not lead one to conclude to the reality of all kinds of religious representations or also to the truth of the Christian religion; but nevertheless from it the right is derived to postulate the actual existence of all that which is necessarily connected with that moral nature, and without which it is undermined and destroyed. But wherein this consists, no one can indicate; the feelings diverge widely. Who can, in the abstract, determine what is immediately and directly given with the moral nature of man? In each person that moral nature is different according to the environment in which it has been formed. Each postulates precisely as much as he has enough of for his religion. Kant derived from practical reason that which constituted the content of his moralische Vernunftreligion, the existence of God, freedom and immortality. Fichte had enough with the moral world-order. And Rauwenhoff asserts that faith in ourselves necessarily postulates faith in such a constitution of the world that the law of the sense of duty can rule therein, Wijsb. v. d. godsd. bl. 343. Wherein this constitution consists is not further told us. The moral world-order, postulated by [462] Rauwenhoff, is nothing other than the good in us, bl. 536 v. But with that we do not get a step further. For this power of the good is also already present in man now and coincides entirely with that moral nature on which precisely the postulate was built. Whether the postulate includes something more, e.g. that the good will triumph, that one day all men will be able and willing to accomplish it, about that silence is maintained. Rauwenhoff expects this triumph of the good, but on what ground, he does not say. If, however, the present constitution of the world is compatible with the dominion of the moral law in us, why should it then also not be able to be so in the future? What right does the moral nature of man give to demand at the end the complete victory of the good, the harmony of virtue and happiness, the agreement of natural and moral world-order? With Rauwenhoff the postulate theory has ended with its having returned to the point of departure; at the end it gave no more than it already contained in the beginning. But apart from its poor results, the question arises whether the foundation is reliable on which the postulate is built? For the modern philosopher of religion this is not elevated above all doubt. In religion he wants to know nothing of an original religious nature of man. That would be in conflict with a scientific explanation. Religion must be derived from factors which each in itself are not yet religious. But having arrived at the moral nature of man, he seems to forget entirely the demand of his scientific explanation. Without concerning himself with the objections, brought in from the side of materialistic science, he proceeds from the moral nature of man as from a fixed, unchangeable, original property and builds upon it the reality of a moral world-order or even of an entire metaphysical world. The right thereto should at least have been demonstrated. If this investigation had been instituted beforehand, it might perhaps have appeared that the moral nature of man itself already presupposes religion. In erkenntnisstheoretischen sense one may, just as with the moral proof for the existence of God, ascend from the moral to the religious; logically and really, however, religion nevertheless precedes the ethical. There is no morality without metaphysics. The idea [463] of duty involves that of an absolute power that binds in the conscience. On Rauwenhoff’s Wijsb. v. d. godsd. literature is given by Kuenen in his Levensbericht van R., Maatsch. v. Ned. Lett. 1889 bl. 126, and alongside that de Bussy, Gids Oct. 1889. Cannegieter, De godsdienst uit plichtsbesef enz. Leiden 1890.

8. A final objection against the above-mentioned direction consists in this, that it must always arrive at a certain dualism of believing and knowing. Some have expressed this very starkly. Scholasticism ended in the Middle Ages, with some theologians, in the proposition that something in theology could be true and in philosophy false. Jacobi professed to be a heathen with the intellect but a Christian with the heart. Herrmann called the reality of faith for science an illusion. The ethical moderns demanded a complete separation between philosophy and religious life. Most, however, do not dare to go that far and see the impossibility of saying no as philosophers and yes as religious people. They acknowledge that in the end there must nevertheless be agreement between the statements of faith and the results of science. Philosophy may not be able to justify the religious representations; but it must also not be able to demonstrate their untruth. Both, the outcomes of scientific investigation and the statements of religious faith, must be able to be connected into one whole or at least be able to exist alongside one another without conflict and enmity. This agreement at the end, in the results, one then tries to obtain by making science, on the one hand, agnostic with respect to the supersensory and supernatural, and on the other hand strictly limiting the statements of religious faith to the religious-ethical. But even if one tries in that way to avoid the dualism in the result, in fact one nevertheless continues to adhere to it in the organ through which and the way or the method along which one arrives at knowledge of the truth. The heart is on its terrain just as much an organ for the truth as the head. Religious-moral experience guarantees the reality of the invisible things just as strongly as sensory perception does that of the visible world. Faith with its grounds has just as much right as science with its proofs. But it is [464] difficult to see how one can escape, in the end in the result, from the dualism that one accepts at the beginning, in principle. If head and heart have a life of their own, in the sense that they each form an independent organ for knowledge of the truth, then the unity of the truth, of the world, indeed of God himself, is no longer to be maintained. Just as subjectively the human being falls apart into two, and on the one hand is a religionless being, enclosed in the nexus of nature, and on the other hand a religious-ethical being, citizen of a moral world-order; so objectively science and religion, erklärbare and erlebbare Wirklichkeit, the world of being and of valuation, the visible and the invisible things, the absolute power of nature and the religious idea of God stand separated alongside one another and presently hostilely over against each other.

Now, undoubtedly, there lies in this dualism a certain truth, which must not be disregarded. For there is, namely, besides a logical certainty, also a certainty of faith. But this distinction is, as will appear later, a wholly different one from the separation which is represented by the dualism described above. For this twofold certainty divides neither man nor the world into two halves, but within the sphere of science itself makes a distinction between that which comes to our knowledge immediately and that which comes by means of proofs. But the dualism which has come to dominion in modern philosophy lets all that is created fall apart into two wholly separated circles, and is thereby in conflict with the unity of man’s spirit, with the unity of science and of truth, with the unity of the world, with the unity of the divine Being itself. Therefore it is also not in a position to reconcile believing and knowing with one another; rather, it still increases the conflict between the two. For faith cannot be satisfied with that separation, because it sees all the historical and metaphysical, with which it is always connected in greater or lesser degree, taken away from it, and therefore either becomes wholly dependent on science or must withdraw into vague, mysterious feeling. And science can have no peace with it, because the decision about the reality of things is entrusted to a faculty which for that purpose entirely lacks the right and the competence. Both, faith and science, do not allow themselves to be limited in that way. They [465] at every moment encroach upon one another. Nor can it be a good demand that the religious man cease to serve God when he devotes himself to science, or that the man of science impose silence upon his thinking when he enters the domain of religion, cf. above bl. 29, 155 v.

§ 17. Faith.

1. From the preceding investigation it has become clear to us, that the principium internum of the Christian religion and theology cannot be located in the intellect, the reason, or the heart of the psychical human being. Neither proofs nor reasonings nor even agreement with man’s needs are able to convince us of the divinity of religious truth. In every domain, and thus also in religion, the principium internum ought to correspond to the principium externum; it must be of the same nature as it. Just as light can be perceived only by the eye, so divine truth can be acknowledged only by him who is akin to God and is his image. All the above-mentioned directions have, to a greater or lesser degree, realized this. Even they who wanted to prove the truth of the Christian religion intellectually, nevertheless judged that on man’s side a certain moral disposition was necessary, in order to feel the force of those proofs. Pascal attempted in the first part of his apology to bring man to knowledge of his misery and to awaken in him the need for redemption and peace. Through and after Schleiermacher most theologians have come to the insight that religion is of a nature of its own and therefore must also be known by a proper organ in man. The attempt to find that organ in reason, the conscience, the heart, feeling was already a step on the right path, and deserved far preference over the rationalistic striving to demonstrate religious truth for the sober intellect. But yet not enough had thereby been done. If there were no sin, man would possess in himself the capacity to distinguish truth from falsehood just as clearly as the eye distinguishes light from the [466] darkness. But no one can assert that this is the case. Sin has darkened man in the intellect and corrupted him in the will. The pure in heart cannot see God. Therefore it is necessary that objectively the truth meet us in purity and that subjectively our eye for that truth be opened. Scripture proceeds from this. It does not submit itself to the judgment of the natural man; for only the spiritual man, the one born again, can distinguish the things of the Spirit of God and of the kingdom of heaven. Therefore Scripture itself reserves for itself the right and the power to bring man to acknowledgment of its truth. It does that in a spiritual way, not by proofs and reasonings but in the way of a spiritual experience, through the instruction of the H. Spirit. There is therefore not only a revelation of God in Christ outside us, but also an illumination of the H. Spirit in us; after God has spoken to us through the Son, the H. Spirit has come to lead us into the truth. God not only gave a Scripture, which contains the objective revelation completely, but also founded a church, which understands the word of God and confesses it as truth. It is for that reason also in conflict with the essence of the Christian religion, to let its truth depend on the investigation and the pronouncement of sinful man. The dogmatician has to take his standpoint not before or outside, but in the midst of faith. The methodological doubt of Bacon and Cartesius is in its place neither in philosophy nor in theology. Doubt may at most be an occasion to go and seek the truth, faith alone causes it to be found; faith is always the deepest ground of the labor of science, Snellen, Bijblad v. d. Herv. 26 Febr. 1895 bl. 5. Voetius therefore rightly took the field against the theologia dubitans of Cartesius, Disp. Sel. III 825-870. A. C. Duker, Schoolgezag en eigen onderzoek 1861 bl. 192 v. It is a wrong method, when the philosopher divests himself of his natural certainty and the dogmatician of his faith, before he makes a beginning with scientific labor. Such a method is not only impractical but also loads upon the man of science the appearance as if his conviction and his faith really rest on those grounds which his thinking causes him to find afterwards. Cartesius found a firm point of departure in the cogito ergo sum. But no one will think that he thereby named the last and deepest ground of faith in his own existence. Even if the incorrectness of this thesis were demonstrated to him, he would nevertheless believe in his own existence just as firmly as before that time. Just as little as philosophy may set aside natural certainty, can the dogmatician take his position outside the faith in which he has often already been brought up from youth on. Science does not have to create its object, but to explain it. Christian theology therefore has a subjective point of departure. It takes its standpoint in the congregation, which believes and confesses the truth of God. There is no other standpoint. Rome does indeed seek for it but cannot find it. The Reformation also abandoned the seeking for it; it proceeded from the believing subject. And when the theology of rationalism and supranaturalism had surrendered this standpoint, the more recent theology through and after Schleiermacher has in almost all its directions returned to this Reformation principle. The whole of theology has become ethical, in the sense that it has taken seriously the proposition that only the one born again sees the kingdom of God and that only he who wants to do God’s will can recognize whether Jesus’ doctrine is from God. Almost all theologians now take their standpoint in believing consciousness, in regeneration, in religious experience. There is in all this a remarkable agreement. The accusation of subjectivism against this standpoint is wholly misplaced. There is nowhere, in no single science, another point of departure. Light presupposes the eye, sound is perceptible only for the ear. All the objective exists for us only through mediation of subjective consciousness. Without consciousness the whole world is dead for me. To desire an objectivity that would not be subjectively mediated is an impossible demand. Between the being of things and our own being perception always remains in between. The subjective point of departure thus is shared by theology with all science, indeed with all relations that exist between man and world. The accusation of subjectivism then only truly comes into existence, when the subjective organ, which is indispensable for perception of the objectively existing, is elevated to principium of knowledge. The eye may be an indispensable organ for the perception of light, but it is nevertheless not its source. It is precisely the error of [468] idealistic rationalism, that it identifies the organ with the source of knowledge, above bl. 149. Thinking is not the source of the thought, the representation not the cause of the thing, the I not the creator of the not-I; and so also faith, regeneration, experience cannot be the source of our religious knowledge and not the principle of our theology. However rightly the more recent theology therefore takes its standpoint in the subject, it errs, when it therefore under the influence of idealistic philosophy changes theology into anthropology, ecclesiology, science of religion. Insofar Ritschl has rightly called back the consciousness-theology, which had generally arisen after Schleiermacher, to the objective, historical revelation in Christ.

2. For the most part in Scripture, at least in the N. Testament, this principium internum is indicated by the name of faith. Regeneration too, purity of heart, love for God’s will, the Spirit of God are presented in Scripture as principium internum, Mt. 5:8; Joh. 3:3, 5, 7:17; 1 Cor. 2:12 etc. Yet the name of faith deserves preference for the designation of this principium. Not only because faith in Scripture most comes to the fore as such. But especially also because the concept faith places us on the terrain of consciousness and in doing so preserves the connection with the way in which we come to knowledge in another domain. Earlier we saw that human reason never and nowhere is a source of knowledge. There are no innate concepts. Man is physically and likewise intellectually wholly dependent on the world outside him. All knowledge comes from outside. But all that knowledge is, on man’s side, mediated through his consciousness. Not feeling or the heart, but the head, consciousness in its whole extent (sensation, awareness, perception, understanding, reason, conscience) is the subjective organ of truth. If Scripture now calls faith the principium internum, then it thereby upholds the same view, and acknowledges that also the revelation of God can come to our knowledge only through consciousness. Not as if regeneration, love, purity of heart, would not be of the greatest significance in that respect; the contrary will later appear. But the proper organ through which the revelation of God is known is an act of consciousness, namely faith. The revelation [469] of God is a system of words and deeds of God, which exist outside and independently of us. How could these ever come to our knowledge other than through consciousness? The revelation of God is gospel, is promise, promise of forgiveness and salvation; but to a promise nothing on our side can correspond except faith. Only through faith does a promise become our possession. Faith is therefore the principium internum cognoscendi of revelation, and thus also of religion and theology, Hartmann, Religionsphilos. II 65 f.

But also for yet another reason it deserves preference to designate the principium internum by the name of faith. For thereby the coherence of religious knowing with all other knowing of man is preserved. There is certainly distinction, but first of all attention must nevertheless be paid to the agreement. We arrive in religion and theology at knowledge in no other way than in the other sciences. Faith is not a new organ that is implanted in man, no sixth sense, no donum superadditum. However much it may conflict with the “natural” man, it is nevertheless completely natural, normal, human. Revelation connects, objectively and subjectively, with nature; re-creation connects with creation. Believing in general is a very common way to arrive at knowledge and certainty. We begin in every domain with believing. Our natural inclination is to believe. Only acquired knowledge and experience teach us unbelief, Hoekstra, Bronnen en grondslagen van het godsd. geloof 1864 bl. 383. Faith is the foundation of society and the fundament of science. All certainty rests in the end in faith. To be sure, the word to believe is also used in a weaker meaning, when we do not know something with certainty but nevertheless hold it to be probable on grounds sufficient for ourselves. Believing then forms an opposition to knowing and is akin to supposing. Thus it occurs in the expression: I do not know it, but I do believe it. But in this meaning the use of the word by no means applies. Already the etymology indicates that in faith yet another deeper meaning is hidden. The word geloof is, with loven, verloven, beloven, veroorloven, oorlof, lof, gelofte, derived from the same stem; it is related to lieven, and expresses a trusting upon with one’s whole person, a loving [470] surrender and devotion to someone, Kahnis, Luth. Dogm. 2e Ausg. I 106. Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsd. I 82 v. cf. Woordenboek der Ned. Taal s. v. Also in other languages the word faith has this original meaning of devotion, trust, certainty, such as האמין‎, אמונה; πειθω, πιστις; fido, fides; foi; faith alongside belief etc. Believing is then also often employed for all such certain knowledge which does not rest on proofs but on immediate, direct insight. Plato distinguished ἐπιστημη, διανοια, πιστις and εἰκασια and understood by πιστις the certainty concerning the sensible world on the ground of observation, de Rep. VI p. 511, VII p. 534, cf. Zeller, Philos. der Griechen, 4e Aufl. II 591, 593. Siebeck, Gesch. der Psych. S. 209. Therefore he says Tim. p. 29 c.: ὁ τι γαρ προς γενεσιν οὐσια, τουτο προς πιστιν ἀληθεια. Aristotle made a distinction between knowledge which was obtained by a demonstrative way, and knowledge of the principia, which was derived from the νους itself. Now he does indeed not call this latter by the name of faith, but nevertheless he says, Eth. Nicom. VI 3: ὁταν γαρ πως πιστευῃ και γνωριμοι αὐτῳ ὠσιν αἱ ἀρχαι, ἐπισταται. When thereafter in Christianity the word faith received such a deep religious meaning, many church fathers pointed with preference to the important place which believing occupies in life and science. Clement of Alexandria understands by πιστις many times all immediate knowledge and certainty, and then says that there is no science without faith, that the first principia, among which e.g. also the existence of God, are not proved but believed, Strom. II n. 4, 6, cf. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der relig. Erk. II 470. Strauss, Glaub. I 301 f. Above all Augustine has set this meaning of faith for society and science in the light. He who does not believe never comes to know; nisi credideritis, non intelligetis, de trin. 15, 2 and passim. Faith is foundation and bond of the whole human society. If the proposition held, quod non video, credere non debeo, all bonds of blood, of friendship and of love would be broken. Si ergo non credentibus nobis quae videre non possumus, ipsa humana societas, concordia pereunte, non stabit; quanto magis fides, quamvis quae non videntur, rebus est adhibenda divinis? de fide rerum invisibilium cap. 3, cf. de util. cred. c. 10 sq. Conf. 6, 5, cf. Ritter, Gesch. der christl. [471] Philos. II 252 f. Gangauf Metaph. Psych. des Aug. 1852 S. 52 f. Since then these same thoughts return again and again among the Christian theologians, e.g. in more recent time with Dorner, Glaub. I 3. Lange, Dogm. I 342 f. Oosterzee, voor Kerk en Theol. I 94. Kuyper, Encycl. II 71 v. etc. The name of faith has then been given to the immediate knowledge of the principia; to the trust in ourselves, in our observation and our thinking; to the recognition of the objective existence of the external world; to the mutual trust on which the whole human society is built; to all that which is known and done by intuition. In such a faith Schiller saw the guarantee of the existence of that new world which Columbus sought: Wär’ sie noch nicht, sie stieg’ jetzt aus den Fluthen empor.

No one who thinks things through will deny this profound significance of πιστις for life, art, and science. Over against those who think that nothing may be held to be true which cannot be sensibly perceived or mathematically proved, it stands above all doubt firmly established that by far the most and the most important of what we know does not rest on proofs, but on immediate certainty. The domain of this latter is much greater than that of demonstrative certainty. And this latter is always again built upon the former, and stands and falls with it. The way, therefore, to arrive at knowledge and certainty in another manner than through mathematical and logical proofs is nothing foreign to human nature. Faith in a general, broad sense is an indispensable element in society, and a normal way to science. It has not first become necessary through sin; outside sin, intuitive knowledge and immediate certainty would have taken an even broader place in human life. Even now, to that extent man’s originality is greater, the more he lives not out of reflection but out of intuition. As analogies of religious faith, therefore, all the above-mentioned examples can render excellent service. They have this in common with religious faith, that the knowledge is obtained immediately, not by reflection, and that in certainty it in no way falls short of that which rests on proofs. Moreover, they maintain the connection that exists between the ordinary way in which we human beings come to knowledge, and the way of faith, which on religious terrain leads to certainty. [472] They show that believing in itself is so little in conflict with human nature and with the demand of science, that without it there can be no question of a normal human being and a normal science.

3. But because of this agreement the difference must nevertheless not be overlooked, which exists between faith as immediate certainty and faith in the religious sense. In religion, specifically in the Christian, πιστις acquires a value of its own. The Greeks also used the word in a religious sense, of faith in the gods, Cremer, Wörterbuch der neut. Gräcität s. v.; but even then it nevertheless has in itself no religious meaning, no more than when we speak of faith in God, in the soul and its immortality etc. Believing is here still the ordinary faith, which we exercise daily, but applied to religious representations. In the N. Test. πιστις, however, is wholly and entirely religiously determined, in object, ground, and origin; it itself denotes a religious relation of man to God. In Hebr. 11:1 ἐλπιζομενα, πραγματα οὐ βλεπομενα are called the general object of the Christian faith. Already hereby faith in the religious sense is distinguished from the knowledge which we possess through immediate certainty. Faith in the external world, in the senses, in the laws of thought, etc. rests on one’s own inward observation. We have of all these things an immediate consciousness. But the object of the Christian faith is invisible and not susceptible to any observation. If something is immediately observed by ourselves, faith is superfluous; faith stands over against seeing, Rom. 8:24; 2 Cor. 5:7. With that it is not in conflict, that revelation nevertheless took place in space and time, that the person of Christ could be seen and touched. For as object of faith this whole revelation nevertheless is not observable. Many saw Jesus and nevertheless did not believe in Him; only His disciples beheld in Him a δοξα ὡς μονογενους παρα πατρος, Joh. 1:14. Object of faith are words and deeds only sub ratione Dei. But in Scripture πιστις as fides salvifica acquires an even more pregnant meaning; it has as object not all manner of words and deeds of God in themselves, but the grace of God in Christ, the promises of the gospel, [473] Mk. 1:15; Joh. 3:16, 17:3; Rom. 3:22; Gal. 2:20, 3:26 etc. This special object comes for faith still under another category into consideration than under that of true as against false. And the general nature of faith is thereby so modified, that it does not pass over into a firm and certain knowing, into an objective holding-for-true, but also includes a heartfelt trust in, an entire surrender to, a personal appropriation of the promises of God, bestowed in the gospel.

Next, faith in the religious sense is distinguished from immediate certainty in that the latter rests on one’s own, but the former on another’s insight. Already this is noteworthy, that the word faith is not in general use for all those cases in which knowledge rests on immediate perception. Faith in the external world, in the senses, in the laws of thought, in the prima principia is usually designated as immediate knowing. And indeed this immediate knowledge, like the demonstrative, rests on one’s own perception and insight. Insofar it can therefore also be called a knowing in distinction from believing. But with the fides salvifica it is a different case. This very certainly has the grace of God in Christ as object. But of that grace of God we would not bear the least knowledge, if it had not come to us through the testimony of others, if it were not assured to us in the H. Scripture. Between the person of Christ and our faith, therefore, the testimony of the apostles comes to stand. The word of God is medium gratiae. Now indeed that Scripture comes into consideration for faith only as God’s word, 1 Thess. 2:13. For religious faith cannot rest except in a testimony of God, Joh. 3:33; Rom. 10:14 v.; 1 Joh. 5:9-11. But nevertheless faith is bound to that Scripture. It has the grace of God as object, but as it is testified in the H. Scripture; or, as Calvin Inst. III, 2, 6 expresses it, it has as object Christum evangelio suo vestitum. Therefore faith, as in one act, extends both toward the person of Christ and toward the Scripture. It embraces Christ as Savior and the Scripture as God’s word. And therefore both is also true: through Christ to the Scripture and through the Scripture to Christ. The Scripture leads to Christ and directs man’s thoughts and affections to Him, who now lives in heaven. Even those who remove all notitia and assensus [474] from the fides salvifica and want to have it pass wholly and entirely into fiducia, cannot do without letting this fiducia arise from an impression made on the soul by the image of Christ. Pietism too is bound to external means. It may limit those means and want to know nothing of a catechism or dogmatics; it nevertheless tries to lead the children to conversion by speaking to them of the dear Jesus, Pierson, Eene levensbeschouwing bl. 13. There is also no other way to the heart of man than through his head and his consciousness. God’s Spirit alone can work immediately in the heart; we are bound to the means. The Scripture is and remains medium gratiae. But conversely faith in Christ also in turn works back upon faith in the Scripture; it binds and fastens us to that Scripture and makes us trust in it in need and death. Our soul may therefore be indissolubly bound to Christ, the living Lord in the heavens, by the unio mystica of the H. Spirit; for our consciousness Christ, the whole world of the ἐλπιζομενα, is there only through the testimony of God in his word. And therefore the fides salvifica also always includes a knowing. Indeed this knowledge of saving faith is essentially distinguished from the knowledge of the fides historica. Even if the latter precedes, it is nevertheless later newly grafted onto the fides salvifica and changes in character. It is not a mere holding for true but a firm and certain knowledge in the sense of the H. Scripture. The biblical idea of knowing is a wholly different and much deeper one than that of ordinary usage. But nonetheless the knowledge which the believer possesses is not immediate and not obtained by one’s own insight; it is bound to the H. Scripture; it rests on the testimony of apostles and prophets as on the word of God.

Finally, the Christian faith is further distinguished from immediate certainty by the fact that it does not arise of itself from human nature. In the external world, in the principia, in observation, in the laws of thought, etc., every human being believes of himself, without command, on the basis of his own insight. But it is not so with the Christian faith. Faith is not of all, 2 Thess. 3:2. However completely human it is, no donum superadditum, but the restoration of man; yet the psychical man stands hostile over against believing. For faith in the Christian sense presupposes self-denial, [475] crucifixion of one’s own thoughts and will, distrust in ourselves, and, over against that, trust in God’s grace in Christ. Therefore, just as the fides salvifica has God himself as its object and rests on his testimony; so it also has Him as its author. He himself is he who through the H. Spirit moves man to faith and leads all his thoughts captive to the obedience of Christ, Mt. 16:17; Joh. 6:44; 1 Cor. 12:3; 2 Cor. 10:5; 1 Thess. 2:13; 2 Thess. 3:2; Ef. 1:15, 16; Col. 1:13; Phil. 1:29. Thereby the Christian faith is wholly and entirely religiously determined. Object, ground, and origin lie wholly and solely in God. Through this religious character the fides salvifica is essentially distinguished from immediate certainty, which is sometimes designated by the name of faith, and also from the πιστις, of which the Greeks sometimes spoke in a religious sense. The Christian faith is pure religion, religio subjectiva. That man is truly religious who thus believes; he is image, child, heir of God.

4. In the Christian church, however, that view soon became the dominant one, which saw in faith an assent of the understanding to the revealed truth. Very common is the definition of faith as ἑκουσιος της ψυχης συγκαταθεσις, as ὑπερ τας λογικας μεθοδους την ψυχην εἰς συγκαταθεσιν ἑλκουσα, cf. Suicerus, Thes. Eccl. s. v. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der relig. Erk. II 467 f. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit, 2e Aufl. IV 246 f. Augustine gives the same definition: credere est cum assensione cogitare, de praed. sanct. c. 2. Quid est credere, nisi consentire, verum esse quod dicitur, de spir. et litt. c. 31. Fides est virtus, qua creduntur, quae non videntur, Enchir. c. 8. Tract. 40 in Joh. n. 9. de trin. 13, 1. Scholastic theology usually began the investigation into the nature of faith with the definition in Hebr. 11:1 and the last-mentioned definition of Augustine, Lombardus, Sent. 3, 23 e. a. Thomas treats of faith in his Summa Theol. II 2 qu. 1 sq. and says that the object of faith is God and other things nisi secundum quod habent aliquem ordinem ad Deum, qu. 1 art. 1. The ground of faith lies only in this, that aliquid est a Deo revelatum, ib. and its author is God alone, ib. qu. 6 art. 1 and 2. The Vatican defined [476] faith as a virtus supernaturalis, qua Dei aspirante et adjuvante gratia, ab eo revelata vera esse credimus, non propter intrinsecam rerum veritatem naturali rationis lumine perspectam sed propter auctoritatem ipsius Dei revelantis, qui nec falli nec fallere potest, sess. 3, Const. dogm. de fide cap. 3. Faith is at Rome an assensus firmus ac certus to the truths of revelation on the ground of the authority of God in Scripture and church, Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 2 art. 1. qu. 4 art. 2. Bellarminus, de justific. I c. 5, 6. Becanus, Theol. schol. tom. II pars 2 tract. 1 cap. 1 sq. Perrone, Praelect theol. V 1840 p. 251 sq. Jansen, Praelect. theol. I 684. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit, IV 205 f. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der rel. Erk. II 426 f.

In practice this view of faith had very harmful consequences. In the first place faith in fact became nothing else than an intellectual assent to a mysterious doctrine far transcending reason, whether explicitly to all its various or implicitly to some necessary dogmas. The distinction between this faith and the fides historica accepted by the Protestants is not possible with this view and was therefore also decisively rejected by Roman theology. Rome has nothing other than a fides historica. From this it further followed that this faith, if it was nothing else than an intellectual assent, could impossibly be sufficient unto salvation. It had to be supplemented by another virtue in the will, viz. love, and then becomes fides formata. Faith thereby loses its central place in the Christian life, it is lowered to one of the seven praeparationes for the gratia infusa of the justificatio; and the centre of gravity comes to lie entirely in love, i.e. in the good works. And finally it was difficult to maintain that faith in the above-mentioned sense was a fruit of the gratia interna, as Augustine understood it. The confession that faith was a gift of God was weakened. The assistentia and inspiratio of which the Vaticanum speaks is often in Roman theology limited to the gift of a general grace or even also to the gift of the natural powers. Believing was the more meritorious in proportion as it was more man’s own free act and consisted more in the acceptance of incomprehensible mysteria fidei, in a sacrificium intellectus. [477]

The Reformation altered this Roman conception of faith in all respects. It restored the religious nature of the πιστις. In the first place it made a principled distinction between the fides historica and the fides salvifica. Historical faith might in some cases precede and in itself be of great value; it was and remained essentially different from saving faith. All the Reformers were unanimous in the judgment that saving faith, if not only then certainly also, consisted in knowledge. None of them allowed faith to be absorbed into an unconscious affection or mood of the mind. But the knowledge that was an element of saving faith was nevertheless quite different from that of historical faith. The latter might later benefit the fides salvifica; yet it itself thereby changed in character and began to live from a new principle. The fides therefore again received among the Reformers a proper, spiritual, religious nature, not gradually but essentially distinct from all other faith in life and science, indeed even from historical faith. Naturally such a faith, then, could not proceed from the same principle from which all other faith arises in man. The Reformation was unanimous in the confession that the fides salvifica was a gift of God. It was not a fruit of the natural powers of man nor even of common grace. It was a fruit of the special grace of the H. Spirit, an activity of the new, regenerated man, and therefore also perfectly sufficient unto salvation. With Rome faith takes only a preparatory place; and rightly so, for at bottom it is nothing other than historical faith. But with the Reformation it again received the central place which it occupies in the N. Test.; it does not need to be supplemented by love, it is sufficient to obtain a share in all the goods of salvation. He who thus believes stands not in the vestibule but in the sanctuary of Christian truth; he is incorporated into Christ, partaker of all his benefits, an heir of eternal salvation. Difficult, however, it was with this profound conception of the fides salvifica, to define its nature correctly and to render it in clear words. The theology of the Reformation has at all times wrestled with it. With respect to the question wherein the proper act [478] of faith is situated, the answers diverge very widely. It has been defined as by knowing, assenting, trusting, taking refuge, etc., or by one of these or by all together. Only later, in the doctrine of faith, can all this be investigated more closely. But so much is certain, that faith in the theology of the Reformation was not a knowing of any doctrinal truths, but that it was a bond of the soul to the person of Christ according to the Scriptures and to Scripture as the word of Christ. The fides salvifica was again through and through religious. God’s grace in Christ was its object, the testimony of God in his word was its ground, the H. Spirit was its author. It was in every respect religiously determined.

5. This faith brings with it, according to Scripture, a certainty of its own. It is a ὑποστασις and ἐλεγχος of the things hoped for and unseen, Hebr. 11:1; not because it is in itself so firm and fixed, but because it rests on God’s testimony and promise, as the continuation of Hebr. 11 clearly teaches. It makes the invisible goods of salvation so certain for us, indeed much more certain, than personal insight or a scientific proof would ever be able to do. Therefore in Scripture there is mention of the παρρησια, Hebr. 4:16; πεποιθησις, Ef. 3:12; πληροφορια, Hebr. 6:11, 12, 10:22 of faith; and θαρσος, Mt. 9:2; καυχησις, Rom. 5:12; χαρα, 1 Petr. 1:8, etc. are ascribed to it. It stands over against doubt, care, fear, distrust, Mt. 6:31, 8:26, 10:31, 14:31, 21:21; Mk. 4:40; Luk. 8:25; Joh. 14:1; Rom. 4:20; Jak. 1:16. Certainty is throughout the whole of Scripture a characteristic of faith. Even in the midst of the heaviest temptations, when everything is against it, in hope against hope, the believer holds his ground as seeing the Invisible One, Job 19:25; Ps. 23, 32, 51; Rom. 4:20, 21, 5:1, 8:38; Hebr. 11, etc. Rather does the believer give up everything than that he should deny his faith. Nothing is too precious to him for his faith, neither his money nor his property, neither his honor nor his life. Faith is ἡ νικη ἡ νικησασα τον κοσμον, 1 Joh. 5:4.

This certainty of faith was unknown to science. It made its entrance into the world with Christianity, Janet et Séailles, Histoire de la philosophie, Paris 1887 p. 668. [479] Greek philosophy recognized two kinds of certainty, one that arose from sense-perception, and another that was obtained through thinking. Commonly the first was placed far below the second; sense-perception gave only δοξα, but thinking led to ἐπιστημη. Aristotle in the latter again distinguished between that which rested on proofs, and that which rested on evidence. There were in science thus three ways to arrive at certainty: observation, argumentation, and evidence. This threefold certainty obtained citizenship in philosophy, with the understanding that the empiricists sought certainty chiefly in observation and the rationalists in thinking. Alongside this scientific certainty Christianity placed the certainty of faith. Concretely and practically this certainty was displayed to the skeptical world in the believing congregation, especially in its martyrs and witnesses of blood. And theoretically it was expressed and developed in Christian theology. In the doctrine of the certainty of faith there is an important difference between Rome and the Reformation with respect to the question whether the certitudo fidei also includes the certitudo salutis, the absolute assurance of one’s own salvation. From Augustine onward this certitudo salutis has been denied and contested by the Roman church and theology. Rome maintains that absolute assurance of salvation is only the portion of some believers, who have received it through a special revelation, but by no means flows from the nature of faith. Ordinary believers, with respect to their salvation, have only a certitudo moralis, conjecturalis, but no certitudo fidei. For this certainty there is no place in the Roman system, since it is only compatible with the confession of God’s electing love, and would make the laity independent of church and priest. Cf. Augustinus, de bono persev. c. 8, 13, 22, de civ. Dei c. 12. Epist, 107, etc. G. J. Vossius, Historia pelagiana 1655 p. 578 sq. Comment. op Sent. I dist. 17. Thomas, S. Theol. II 1 qu. 112 art. 5. Bellarminus, de Justif. I c. 10. III c. 2 sq. Conc. Trid. sess. 6 cap. 9 can. 13, 14, and later in the doctrine of faith. Yet the Roman theologians do acknowledge the certitudo fidei with respect to the objective truths of revelation. Facilius, said Augustine, Conf. 7, 10, dubitarem vivere me, quam non esse veritatem, [480] quae per ea, quae facta sunt, intellecta conspicitur. Albertus Magnus made a distinction between faith in philosophy and in theology. There faith is nothing other than credulitas and no path to knowledge; but in theologicis fides lumen est, certissimam faciens adhaesionem et assensum.... et ideo est via et medium ad scientiam veritatis divinorum, in Stöckl, Philos. der M. A. II 365, cf. further Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 4 art. 8. Bellarminus, de Justif. III c. 2. Billuart, Summa S. Thomae VIII p. 86 sq. Dens, Theol. II 241 sq. Daelman, Theol. I p. 12 sq. And with that, in general, the Protestant theologians agree. No one has expressed this certainty of faith more sharply and strongly than Calvin. Faith with him is certa, firma, plena et fixa certitudo, more certitudo than apprehensio, cordis fiducia et securitas, etc. Inst. I, 7, 5; II, 2, 8; III, 2, 14 v., 14, 8; 24, 4, etc. With Lutheran as well as Reformed theologians faith is a firmus assensus, a certa cognitio, which excludes all doubt and all uncertainty, Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. S. 299 f. Hase, Hutt. Rediv. § 108. Heid. Catech. vr. 21. Heppe, Dogm. der ev. ref. K. S. 384 f.

6. By science, particularly by philosophy, little attention has in general been devoted to this certainty of faith. Only Kant first incorporated and acknowledged it in a modified sense. Kant assumed in the main three kinds of certainty. The first is empirical, problematic certainty, which rests on one’s own or another’s observation and consists in an opining, in a theoretical or practical believing. Next there is a logical, scientific, apodictic certainty, which is again twofold and bears either an intuitive character, as in mathesis, or, as in philosophy, a discursive character. These are the same kinds of certainty that were already assumed in Greek philosophy. But alongside these Kant now also makes room for a moral, assertoric certainty. The supersensible and the supernatural are, namely, according to Kant unknowable. God has intentionally withheld the knowledge of them from us, in order that we should not place the destiny of man in knowing but in acting, in the fulfilment of his moral calling. With a view to this ethical destiny, man accepts the truth of some propositions, without which [481] he cannot fulfil this ethical task. Thus on practical, psychological grounds he believes in the existence of God, the soul, and immortality. This is moral faith. The certainty which man obtains through this faith is not theoretical in nature, but practical, moral. It makes him say, not: I am certain; nor also: it is morally certain; but: I am morally certain. There is thus a threefold certainty, an empirical, logical, and moral, expressed and rendered by the words opining, knowing, and believing, Kritik der reinen Vernunft, Methodenlehre II 3, ed. Kirchmann S. 632 f. The philosophy after Kant has indeed in part adopted this doctrine of certainty of Kant, but has added nothing essentially new to it. Cf. Dr. Franz Grung, Das Problem der Gewissheit, Heidelb. 1886.

By contrast, Kant’s doctrine of moral certainty has exercised great influence on theology. When the authority of Scripture and church had been undermined, people sought in it the foundation of religion and theology. The well-known text John 7:17, already employed by Kant himself, Rel. innerhalb der Gr. usw. ed. Rosenkranz S. 135, has become the point of departure of this direction. Indeed, there lies in this moral certainty a deep truth, and it may be gratefully acknowledged that Kant assigned it a place in his philosophy. Of the invisible things we have a wholly different certainty than of those which we can perceive with our senses or prove with our thinking. Faith in the things which one hopes for and does not see also does not proceed without the will, without the moral disposition and the spiritual experience. But nevertheless it deserves no recommendation to exchange the certainty of faith of Holy Scripture, of the congregation, and of Christian theology for Kant’s moral certainty. First of all, the remark is not superfluous that certainty is always a state of consciousness. The human spirit can, with respect to a question or a proposition, be in a different state; it can stand over against it in a state of uncertainty, doubt, suspicion, opinion, etc., but also in a state of absolute certainty. Certainty is the rest of human consciousness in the found and acknowledged truth. The understanding strives, namely, for knowledge, for truth. That is the character and the nature of the understanding; the true is its good, its wealth, the fulfillment of its need. [482] When it finds that truth it is therefore satisfied; it rests in it, it feels itself safe and certain. Certainty is rest, peace, joy, blessedness; in veritate requies. Certainty is the normal state of the human spirit, just as health is that of the body. Doubt, uncertainty, by contrast, is unrest, discontent, misery. Strictly speaking, therefore, certainty itself is not moral; it is called so only because the grounds on which the truth rests with it are of a moral nature. But then, the grounds on which scientific and moral truth rest are not such as to be separated from one another and set over against one another as theoretical and practical. In reality there does not exist such a dualism as Kant assumes in his twofold certainty. Subjectively, head and heart, and objectively, the visible and invisible things are not thus to be divided into two. The heart also exercises influence in scientific investigation. The πιστις in a broad sense also occupies a great place there. Much of what in science passes for fixed and certain rests on moral or immoral grounds. And conversely, it is nevertheless consciousness which, also in moral certainty, weighs and judges the moral grounds on which one or another proposition is acknowledged and accepted as true. The will may move the understanding to accept one or another truth; but that acceptance itself is nevertheless an act of the understanding; and the understanding can do this only because it itself, to a greater or lesser degree, acknowledges and sees the truth. The certainty of faith does not come about through theoretical proofs, but just as little through a decision of the will. Finally, various objections have already earlier been raised against Kant’s postulate theory. They can still be increased with these questions: does it accord with the nature of true morality, which nevertheless also consists in humility, modesty, etc., to postulate the existence of God and of immortality on the ground of our moral nature and destination? does moral certainty still retain its force even then, when the moral human being falls into sins, is in temptation and conflict, and is tossed to and fro by doubt? are moral grounds sufficient, in order, over against the contestation of science, to build upon them faith in God’s existence, the consciousness of forgiveness, the hope of blessedness? But even if moral certainty were also sufficient for the [483] philosopher, it is unusable for the Christian. For even if Kant’s Vernunftreligion could rest on it as on a firm foundation; it is not able to bear the truth of the Christian religion.

For all these reasons, Kant’s moral certainty cannot replace Christian certainty of faith. This is proved, moreover, by the distinction that Kant makes between supposing, believing, and knowing. Supposing was, according to him, a holding-for-true on insufficient grounds, believing on subjectively sufficient grounds, and knowing on objectively sufficient grounds, Kritik der reinen Vern. ed. Kirchmann S. 632 f. Now this distinction is correct precisely with respect to believing in daily life and with regard to such things as can be known. Then indeed believing is a lesser and weaker degree of knowing. But in religion faith is certainty itself. The distinction was already determined more correctly by Augustine. He says: tria sunt item velut finitima sibimet in animis hominum distinctione dignissima: intelligere, credere, opinari. Quae si per se ipsa considerentur, primum semper sine vitio est, secundum aliquando cum vitio, tertium nunquam sive vitio, de util. cred. c. 11. Inter credere autem atque opinari hoc distat, quod aliquando ille, qui credit, sentit se ignorare quod credit, quamvis de re, quam se ignorare novit, omnino non dubitet, sic enim firme credit; qui autem opinatur, putat se scire, quod nescit, de mendac. c. 3. Thomas describes the distinction thus: de ratione opinionis est quod accipiatur unum cum formidine alterius oppositi; unde non habet firmam inhaesionem. De ratione vero scientiae est quod habeat firmam inhaesionem cum visione intellectiva; habet enim certitudinem procedentem ex intellectu principiorum. Fides autem medio modo se habet; excedit enim opinionem in hoc quod habet firmam inhaesionem; deficit vero a scientia in eo quod non habet visionem, S. Theol. II 1 qu. 67 art. 3. In a similar sense Zanchius gave this definition: opinio is a cognition neither certain nor evident, fides is a cognition certain but not evident, scientia is a cognition equally certain and evident, Op. II 196. Believing and knowing are therefore not distinguished in certainty. Faith brings with it a certainty just as strong as knowing. Indeed, the certainty of faith is, of the two, the stronger in intensity; it is almost unshakable and ineradicable. [484] For faith someone stakes his life and everything. Galileo swore three times to renounce his faith in the Copernican system. Kepler, against his conviction, occupied himself at Graz with astrology in order to provide for his livelihood; the needy mother (astronomy) had to live from the foolish daughter (astrology). Who gives up his life for a scientific thesis, e.g. that the earth revolves around the sun? But religion breeds martyrs. The certainty of faith far surpasses scientific certainty in intensive power. Bonaventure, however, rightly makes a distinction within certainty between the certitudo adhaesionis and the certitudo speculationis, Sent. III dist. 23 art. 1 qu. 4, cf. Stöckl. Philos. des M. A. II 883. The former is greater in the certainty of faith than in scientific certainty, for often no arguments, no flatteries, no tortures are able to bring someone’s faith into wavering. He clings with his whole soul to the object of faith. But the certitudo speculationis need not always, but can sometimes nevertheless be stronger in science than in faith. It is the same thought that Augustine expressed: knowing is always sine vitio, but believing occurs aliquando cum vitio. Believing itself is no proof of the truth of what is believed. There is a great difference between subjective assurance and objective truth. In faith everything depends on the grounds on which it rests.

§ 18. The Ground of Faith.

1. As soon as Christian theology began seriously to reflect on the ultimate and deepest ground of faith, it came to the recognition that no intellectual or historical proof, adduced for the truth of revelation, could in the end be valid for it. The apologists of the 2nd century attached great value to those proofs, above p. 423, and, over against pagan naturalism, laid emphasis on the fact that faith was a rational, free act of man, Just. M. Dial. c. 88. 102. 131. Theophilus, ad Autol. II 27. Irenaeus, adv. haer. IV 37, 5, etc. But nevertheless we already find in them the [485] awareness that all those proofs are powerless to actually move anyone to faith. For that, something else and more is still needed, namely, divine grace, Just. M. Dial. c. 119. Apol. 1, 10. 2, 10. Iren. adv. haer. IV 39, 2. Orig. de princ. I 10, 14, 19. Irenaeus compares it to the dew and the rain, which makes the field fruitful, ib. III 17, 2, 3. But Augustine was the first who clearly saw and confessed the necessity of the gratia interna. Elsewhere he ascribes great value to the church as a motive of faith; but his doctrine of the gratia interna proves that for him this was not the ultimate and deepest cause of his faith. That was God alone. Operatur Deus fidem nostram miro modo agens in cordibus nostris, ut credamus, de praed. sanct. 2, 6. For, to believe is always voluntary, nemo credit nisi volens. And God therefore, by his grace, bends the will and makes us believe with the understanding, Conf. 13, 1. de div. quaest. 1 qu. 2 n. 21, de praed. sanct. 19, de dono persev. 16, etc. The later theologians too have ascribed great force to the praeambula fidei and the motiva credibilitatis; and among these the church took an ever more prominent place. But all concede that those motiva make revelation non evidenter veram but only evidenter credibilem. They exclude reasonable doubt, and show that it is not unreasonable to believe and indeed unreasonable to assume the contrary, Thomas S. Theol. II 2 qu. 1 art. 5 ad. 2. S. c. Gent. I c. 9. But conclusive they are not. Yes, Thomas expressly says on the occasion when he deals with the philosophical proofs for the trinity: qui autem probare nititur trinitatem personarum naturali ratione, fidei derogat, S. Theol. I qu. 32 art. 1. Over against opponents proofs avail little, quia ipsa rationum insufficientia eos magis in suo errore confirmaret, dum aestimarent nos propter tam debiles rationes veritati fidei consentire, S. c. Gent. I c. 9. However credible revelation may be made by the proofs, it nevertheless is and remains a truth of faith, Bellarm. de Conc. et Eccl. IV 3. At Rome it must remain that also for this reason, because otherwise the voluntariness and thereby the meritoriousness of faith would be lost, Thomas S. Theol. II 2. qu. 2 art. 9 and 10. Faith thus accepts the truth not on the ground of its own insight, but of divine authority. Non [486] enim fides assentit alicui, nisi quia est a Deo revelatum, Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 1 art. 1. S. c. Gent. I c. 9. Becanus, II 2. p. 3-17. Billuart, II 2. Tom. 1 de fide p. 1 sq. Dens, II 280 sq. Jansen I 701-711. And in order to recognize that authority of God, a change of the will must precede in man. Believing is indeed an act of the understanding, Thomas S. Theol. II 2. qu. 4 art. 2, but it presupposes a bending of the will by grace. The understanding must be determined to faith by the will, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 2 art. 1 ad. 3. The assensus fidei is therefore only a Deo, interius movente per gratiam, ib. I qu. 62 art. 2 ad 3. II 1 qu. 109 art. 6. qu. 112 art. 2. II 2 qu. 6 art. 1. Gregory XVI condemned in the breve of 26 September 1835 the opinion of Hermes, that the motiva credibilitatis were the actual ground of faith in revelation. And the Vatican Council determined in sess. 3, Const. dogm. de fide cap. 3, that the motives could indeed make divine revelation credibilis, nemo tamen evangelicae praedicationi consentire potest, sicut oportet ad salutem consequendam absque illuminatione et inspiratione Spiritus Sancti.

2. In fact, Rome thereby adopts the same subjective standpoint as the churches of the Reformation. The motives, however strong, cannot in actual fact move to faith. It is God’s Spirit alone who can inwardly and firmly and certainly convince someone of the truth of divine revelation. The deepest ground for faith is, also at Rome, not Scripture or the church, but the lumen interius. Various theologians have also acknowledged this. For the sake of clarity, the act of faith may for a moment be analyzed in a syllogism. The major then runs: God is truthful; if He reveals Himself, His revelation must be accepted in faith; the minor is called: these facts, e.g. the church, the Scripture, are revelations of God; and then the conclusion follows: therefore these too must be believed. About the major there is no difference. This stands firm by virtue of the idea of God and is acknowledged by all. No one denies that, if God reveals Himself, He also, as the truthful one, deserves faith. All the more everything depends on the minor. The difference runs precisely over this, whether and where God has revealed Himself. The believing [487] Christian says: in Scripture or also in the church. But how and why are these recognized as revelation of God? If on the ground of proofs, of the motiva credibilitatis; then that ground is human, fallible, and the faith not purely religious and certain. The revelation of God can, in a religious sense, be believed only on the ground of God’s authority. But that authority of God lets itself be heard only, either outside me, in Scripture or the church, whose ultimate ground of faith I am precisely investigating; or within me, in the grace that moves me to faith, in the lumen interius, the testimonium Sp. S. Whoever wishes to maintain the authority of God as the ultimate ground of faith and thus faith in its religious nature, must adopt one of these two standpoints. Now Canus said without hesitation that the ultimate ground lay in the grace that inwardly moved him to faith. I believe, he said, that God is triune, because God has revealed it; huic autem: Deus revelavit, immediate credo, a Deo motus per instinctum specialem, Loc. Theol. l. 2 c. 8 ad 4. With Canus, therefore, the ultimate ground for his faith lay objectively in the testimony of God; but that he recognized this testimony as divine was due to the grace that moved his will and understanding to believe. This opinion of Canus was indeed adopted by some other Roman Catholic theologians, such as Arragon, Gonet, etc.; Prof. Hayd, Philos. Jahrbuch von Gutberlet III 1890 S. 27 even spoke of an immediate testimony of God in us, which assures us of the divinity of Jesus’ person and doctrine. But many nevertheless raised this objection against it, that Canus actually gives no answer to the question on what ground he accepts the testimony of God in Scripture and the church as divine. He only says that God inwardly by His grace gives him to believe it thus, but gives no further account of it. Moreover, this opinion of Canus also did not commend itself for the reason that it, as Suarez already remarked, had so much resemblance to and could so easily lead to Calvin’s doctrine of the testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Therefore the Roman Catholic theologians were intent on seeking the ultimate ground of faith elsewhere than in the lumen interius. Suarez was of the opinion that not only the object, but also the ground of faith itself is again a matter of faith. We believe not only that Scripture is true, because God [488] has revealed Himself in it; but also the fact that God has revealed Himself in it, we believe because God Himself testifies to it in Scripture. Revelation is at the same time the quo and the quod creditur. Unus enim et idem actus credit Deum et Deo. Just as the eye perceives the colors and at the same time the light by which those colors become visible; just as reason knows the derived truths and at the same time the principia by which they are knowable; so too faith knows both the revealed truths and the testimony on which they rest, as divine. Very many theologians, also in more recent times, have expressed their agreement with this opinion of Suarez, but it did not satisfy all. The circular reasoning was nevertheless clear: Scripture is believed because it is revealed, and that it is revealed is in turn believed because Scripture testifies to it. It also leads to a progressus in infinitum: I believe a revelation because another revelation testifies to it, etc. Suarez indeed answers this objection that revelation must be believed for its own sake; that God, revealing Himself, also therein at the same time reveals that it is He who reveals Himself. But the question nevertheless always remains open, why we believe the testimony by which God declares that it is He who has revealed Himself. Lugo therefore taught that accepting the fact that God has revealed Himself in Scripture was indeed supernatural, but that it nevertheless could not be called faith in the proper sense. For believing is always accepting something as true on the ground of a testimony. If now accepting the fact that God has revealed Himself were a believing in the proper sense, then this would again presuppose a divine testimony, and so in infinitum. Lugo therefore assumed that recognizing the fact of revelation did not rest on the testimony of God, but on this, that the believer immediately and directly saw the revelation itself with its miracles, prophecies, etc. as revelation, just as reason immediately recognizes the truth of the principia. Revelation announces itself by its content as divine, just as, according to the image of Thomas, S. Theol. III qu. 43 art. 1, an envoy verifies himself by the content of his message, e.g. by secrets that only his principal can know. But this representation in turn runs up against the objection that this recognition of revelation is either really immediate, in which case it becomes a [489] new revelation in the subject, an intuition of the divine, which we here on earth, as walking in faith, do not partake of; or that it is in fact mediate, but then also flows from the indicia and criteria of revelation, and thus again comes to rest on the proofs for revelation, on the motiva credibilitatis. This solution too is therefore unsatisfactory. Therefore still others have said: the testimony of God is the ultimate ground of faith. To the question: why do you believe? the Christian answers: because God has spoken. Deus dixit. Another, deeper ground he cannot indicate in this. If he is further asked: but why do you believe that God has spoken, e.g. in Scripture? then he can only still answer that God inwardly so works in him that he recognizes that Scripture as God’s word. But with that he has also said everything. The testimony of God is the ground, but grace, the will, is the cause of faith. The proofs may be motiva credibilitatis, the will is in the end the motivum credendi. This standpoint too is not raised above criticism. For it can be asked, and it has also actually been asked, what ground the understanding has to accept Scripture as the word of God. The answer that the will or grace moves the understanding thereto is insufficient. For the will cannot move the understanding to accept something as true without a ground, of which it itself does not see the credible character. The understanding must itself recognize that something is divine and therefore deserves faith. Otherwise faith is unreasonable and the believer, with a sic volo, sic jubeo, stat pro ratione voluntas, gets rid of the difficulty. The Roman Catholic theologians have therefore also not been able to give an answer to the question of the deepest ground of faith that satisfies all. Very many simply refrain from a decision and leave the choice between the various above-mentioned opinions free. Enough, to show that Rome too, with its infallible church and its infallible pope, has no advantage over the churches of the Reformation. The deepest ground of faith lies also at Rome, just as much as in Protestantism, in the subject. Cf. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der rel. Erk. II 486-500. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit, 2e Aufl. IV 473-532. Von Schäzler, Neue Untersuchungen über das Dogma von der Gnade und das Wesen des [490] Glaubens, Mainz 1867 S. 513-537. Al. Schmid, Untersuchungen über den letzten Gewissheitsgrund des Offenbarungsglaubens, München, 1879. Jansen, Praelect. Theol. I 711-724.

3. The Reformation deliberately and freely took its standpoint in the religious subject, in the faith of the Christian, in the testimony of the H. Spirit. It is true that in Luther, Zwingli and Melanchthon only a few statements occur about the testimonium Spiritus Sancti, Köstlin, Luthers Theol. I 279, II 254 f. Scholten, L. H. K. I 186 v. But Calvin has developed this doctrine at length and has connected it not only with the content but also with the form and the authority of Scripture. That Scripture is God’s word, says Calvin, is not established by the church, but was established before its decision, for the church is founded on the foundation of apostles and prophets. Scripture brings its own authority with it, it rests in itself, it is αὐτοπιστος. Just as light is distinguished from darkness, white from the black color, sweet from bitter, so Scripture is recognized by its own truth. But certainty with us receives that Scripture as God’s word only through the testimony of the H. Spirit. Proofs and reasonings are indeed of much value, but this testimony far surpasses them all in value, it is omni ratione praestantius. As God alone can bear witness of himself in his word, so his word finds no earlier faith in the heart of men than after it is sealed by the inward testimony of the Spirit. The same Spirit, who spoke through the mouth of the prophets, must work in our hearts and convince us that they have faithfully delivered what was commanded them by God. The H. Spirit is therefore seal and confirmation of the faith of the pious. If we have that testimony in us, we do not rest in any human judgment, but establish beyond doubt, as if we beheld God himself in it, that Scripture has proceeded from God’s mouth through the service of men. We subject ourselves to it ut rei extra aestimandi aleam positae. But that must not be understood as if we subjected ourselves blindly to a matter that is unknown to us. No, we are conscious that we possess in that Scripture the invincible truth and feel non dubiam vim numinis illic, vigere ac spirare, by which we, willingly and [491] knowingly and yet vividly and powerfully, are driven to obedience, Inst. I c. 7. Comm. in 2 Tim. 3:16. Calvin knew in this doctrine of the testimonium Sp. S. not to describe a private revelation, but the experience of all believers, Inst. I, 7, 5. This testimony of the H. S. was with him also not isolated from, but stood in the closest connection with the whole activity of the H. S. in the heart of believers; through it alone the whole church arises and exists; the whole application of salvation is a work of the H. Spirit; and the witnessing concerning Scripture is only one of the many activities of the H. S. in the congregation of believers. The testimonium Sp. S. also gives no new revelations, but makes the believer firm with respect to the truth of God, which is fully contained in Scripture; it makes it so that faith is a cognitio certa and excludes all doubt. And it finally finds its analogy in the testimony that our conscience gives to the law of God, and in the certainty that we have concerning God’s existence. Cf. Klaiber, Die Lehre der altprot. Dogm. von dem test. Sp. S., Jahrb. f. deutsche Theol. 1857 S. 1-54. Aug. Benezeh, Théorie de Calvin sur l’Ecriture Sainte, Paris 1890. Jacq. Pannier, Le témoignage du Saint-Esprit, Paris 1893. This doctrine of the testim. Sp. S. was taken up in the French, Nederl. and Westminster confession of faith and developed in Calvin’s spirit by Ursinus, Tract. Theol. p. 12, 13. Zanchius, Op. VIII col. 332 sq. Polanus, Synt. Theol. I cap. 16. Trigland, Antapologia p. 42 sq. Maccovius, Loci Comm. p. 28. Alsted, Theol. schol. didact. 1618 p. 10 sq. 29 sq. Maresius, Syst. Theol. I § 33 e. a. Also outside Reformed theology it found acceptance among the Lutherans, not yet with Chemniz, Heerbrand etc. but indeed with Hutter, Hunnius, Gerhard, Loc. Theol. loc. 1 cap. 3 § 39. Quenstedt, Hollaz, cf. Hase, Hutterus Rediv. § 37, 45. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. 6e Aufl. S. 31. Klaiber, Jahrb. f. d. Theol. 1857 S. 1-54. Dorner, Gesch. der Prot. Theol. S. 539-549.

But this doctrine found opposition on the part of Socinianism, Fock, der Socinianismus 336 f.; of Remonstrantism, Episcopius, Instit. Theol. Lib. 4 Sect. 1 cap. 5 § 2. Limborch, Theol. Christ. I c. 4 § 17, and of Romanism, Bellarminus, de verbo Dei IV 4; cf. Pannier, Le témoignage du S. Esprit p. 140 s. Gradually the testimonium internum [492] also began in Reformed theology to lose its place of honour. In Turretinus, Theol. El. II qu. 6 § 11 sq. and Decas disput. miscell. p. 30-70, Amyraldus, Syntagma thesium theol. in acad. Salmur. 1665 p. 117-143, Molinaeus, Juge des controverses, chap. 16, 17 e. a. it is already weakened, and identified with such illumination of the H. Spirit, by which the understanding is enabled to notice the notae and criteria of the divinity of Holy Scripture. Faith no longer attaches itself to Scripture directly and immediately, but flows from the insight into the veritatis et divinitatis notae. Between Scripture and faith the marks of the truth of Scripture are inserted. At first still in that sense, that the noticing and discerning of those criteria is ascribed to an illumination of the understanding by the H. Spirit. But rationalism soon also considered this unnecessary, entrusted the investigation of the truth of revelation to reason, and grounded the authority of Scripture on historical proofs. Even orthodox theologians scarcely dared any longer to speak of the testimonium internum, Brakel, Red. godsd. 2:7. Marck, Merch der Godg. 2:6. If the testimony of the H. G. is still brought up for the confirmation of the authority of Scripture, it comes entirely at the end, and is changed into an experiential proof, Reinhard, Dogm. 5te Aufl. S. 69. Bretschneider, Dogm. 1838 I 283 and the litt. cited there. Hase, Hutterus Rediv. § 37, note 4. Vinke, Theol. Christ. dogm. Comp. p. 21, 22 etc. Michaelis, Dogm. 2e Aufl. Gött. 1784 S. 92, declared that he had never perceived such a testimony of the H. G. in his heart and also did not find it in Scripture. And Strauss, Gl. I 136, asserted that the testimonium Sp. S. led to fanaticism or to rationalism and was the Achilles’ heel of the Protestant system.

Various causes, however, have contributed to restoring this doctrine of the testimonium internum once again to some extent to its honor. The critique of rationalism by Kant; the bewijs des Geistes und der Kraft, to which Lessing appealed; the romanticism of Jacobi and Schleiermacher, and the unfruitfulness of apologetics have given birth to the conviction that the justification of the Christian religion must proceed from the faith of the congregation. Religious truth must be proved in another way than a proposition from the [493] mathesis. To the revelation which is the principium externum of religion, a corresponding organ in man himself must respond. To be sure, all this still differs very much from the testimonium Sp. S., as it was developed by Calvin. Often this testimony is deprived by the more recent theologians of all its supernatural character. Usually it is brought into connection not with the form, but only with the content, and sometimes only with the religious-ethical content of Scripture. But just as the Roman, so also the Protestant theologians must acknowledge that the last and deepest ground of faith cannot lie outside us in proofs and reasonings, in church and tradition, but can only be found in man himself, in the religious subject. And that conviction benefits the doctrine of the testimonium Sp. S.. One person may still take up the cause of the historical proofs and combat the testimonium Sp. S., as König, Der Glaubensakt des Christen 1891 S. 92-99. Id. Die letzte Instanz des bibl. Glaubens 1892 S. 23 f. Most theologians take it up again in dogmatics, and allot to it a greater or smaller place in it, Oosterzee, Jaarb. v. wet. Theol. 1845. Dogm. I 242. Scholten L. H. K. I 115-233. Twesten I 433-7. Klaiber, Jahrb. f. d. Theol. 1857. Lange I § 84. Kahnis, Luth. Dogm. I 291. Philippi, Kirchl. Dogm. 3e Aufl. I 135 f. Cremer in Herzog2 6, 746. Frank, Syst. der chr. Gewissheit I 139. Id. Dogm. Studiën 38-57. Thomasius, Christi Person u. Werk 3e Aufl. II 268 f. Dorner, Gesammelte Schriften, Berlin 1883 S. 131 f. Lipsius, Jahrb. f. prot. Theol. 1885 S. 614. Hodge, Syst. Theol. III 69. Pannier, Le témoignage du S. Esprit p. 193 s. Kuyper, Encycl. II 501-511. John de Witt, The testimony of the Holy Spirit to the Bible, Presb. and Ref. Rev. Jan. 1895 p. 69-85.

4. Both Roman and Protestant theology, in the investigation into the deepest ground of faith, has arrived at the religious subject and must take its position in the faith of the congregation. Every other path, entered upon for the proof of religious truth, has proved to be an impasse. In appearance this is a disappointment; and thus it is also felt by everyone who fails to recognize the proper essence of revelation and religion and changes them into a doctrine provable by the intellect. But in fact [494] this outcome is a gain for theology. For it proves that theology has come to insight into the specific character of religion and that it is in the same condition as all other sciences. The subjective point of departure is, after all, absolutely not peculiar to theology alone. All that is objective can be approached only from out of the subject; the Ding an sich is unknowable and does not exist for us. The world of sounds has reality only for the one who hears, the world of thoughts only for the thinking spirit. It is futile effort to wish to prove to the blind the objective existence of colors. All life and knowing rests on a correspondence of subject and object. And man is therefore so rich, because he is connected to the objective world by the most diverse and the most manifold relations. He is akin to the whole world; physically, vegetatively, sensitively, intellectually, ethically, religiously he stands in harmony with that world; he is a microcosm. Now Scripture goes before us, to conceive all these relations of man to the world religiously and to explain them theistically. Man has not placed himself in this relation to the cosmos. He is from the outset constituted for that world, and this, reciprocally, for him. Because he is the image of God, he is also lord of the earth. And not only is it God who once laid these bonds between man and world; He is also the one who continually, from moment to moment, maintains them and causes them to operate. It is one and the same Logos, by whom all things in and outside man have been made. He is before all things and these still always exist together through Him, Joh. 1:3; Col. 1:15. Still more closely Scripture makes known to us the Spirit of God as principle and author of all life in man and world, Gen. 1:2; Ps. 33:6, 104:30, 139:7; Job 26:13, 33:4, specifically also of the intellectual, ethical, and religious life, Job 32:8; Jes. 11:2. Naturally the operation of that Spirit is different, in accordance with the relations in which man stands to the world. Physically it now consists only in the impulse that makes man and animal seek their food from God, Ps. 104:20-30. It is then still like the instinct that unconsciously guides the action. But a higher form does this operation of God’s Spirit assume in the intellectual, ethical, and religious life of the [495] man. It then becomes ratio, conscientia, sensus divinitatis, which are not resting faculties but susceptibilities, which, through the influence of kindred phenomena from the outer world, pass over into action. And this action can now bear the name of testimony, given by the human spirit to the corresponding phenomena outside it. Our spirit does nothing else than always to give testimony to the truth that comes to us from without. It does not bring forth that truth out of itself by thinking and reasoning; it does not produce and create it, it only reproduces and reflects upon it. The truth exists before and independently of the human spirit; it rests in itself, in the Logos, in whom everything has its subsistence. On man’s side only this is necessary, that he see the truth and take it up into himself; that he give his testimony to it and seal it by thinking and knowing. Thus Jesus testified what he had seen and heard, Joh. 3:32; He bore witness to the truth, Joh. 18:37; and thus the apostles were witnesses of the word of life, which they had beheld and touched in Christ, Joh. 15:27; 1 Joh. 1:3. To give such a testimony to the truth is for the human spirit rest, joy, blessedness. The distance between us and the truth has then fallen away; it has found us, we have found it. There is immediate contact. It makes us, by itself, into its witnesses. All truth makes of him who knows it a witness, a proclaimer, a prophet. Entering into our spirit, it brings along its own testimony; it itself brings that forth in us. Religiously conceived, it is the Logos itself, which through our spirit bears witness to the Logos in the world. It is one and the same Spirit, who spreads out the truth objectively before us and elevates it subjectively in our spirit to certainty. It is his testimony, which in our consciousness is given to the thoughts which God has embodied in the creatures. Above all in religion this testimony of the H. Spirit to the truth is clear. God does not leave himself without witness. He reveals his δυναμις and θειοτης in the creatures, and himself gives testimony thereto in our νους through his Spirit. All knowing of the truth is essentially a testimony that the spirit of man renders concerning it, and in the deepest ground a testimony of the Spirit of God to the Word by which all things have been made. [496]

5. This testimony of the spirit of man to the truth is presupposition and foundation, and at the same time also analogy of the testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Calvin and others already pointed to this agreement, Instit. II 8, 1. Maresius, Syst. theol. I § 33. Alsted, Theol. schol. did. p. 31. But analogy is not identity. The Christian religion has as principium externum not the general revelation of God in nature, but a special revelation of God in Christ. With that the principium internum must correspond. The νους of the psychical man is insufficient, to distinguish the things of the Spirit of God. God can only be known by God. Ὁ ὠν ἐκ του θεου τα ρηματα του θεου ἀκουει, Joh. 8:47, 3:21, 7:17, 10:3 v., 18:37. No one can speak about God, except he who speaks from and through Him. Therefore also only that same Spirit, who has spoken through prophets and apostles, can in our hearts give testimony to the truth and thereby raise it above all doubt and bring it to absolute certainty. Such a testimony of the H. Spirit in the hearts of believers is taught very clearly in Scripture. In the objective revelation, i.e. in the person of Christ and in Scripture as his word, everything is included, which man has need of for the knowledge and service of God. The revelation of God is completed in Christ and described in Scripture in a perfectly sufficient manner. But this revelation in Christ and in his word is means, not end. The end is the creation of a new humanity, which fully unfolds the image of God. Therefore the whole revelation must be transferred from Christ into the church, from Scripture into consciousness; God seeks a dwelling in man. This great, divine work of the application of salvation, of the guidance into all truth, is entrusted to the Holy Spirit. Already in the days of the O. Covenant He was the author of all religious-ethical knowledge and life, Ps. 51:13, 143:10; Jes. 63:10. But Israel was in a state of minority and was placed under the care of the law, Gal. 4:1 v. The H. Spirit was not yet, inasmuch as Christ was not yet glorified, Joh. 7:39. Therefore the prophets looked with longing toward the days of the N. Covenant, in which all would be taught by the Lord and all would be led by the H. Spirit, Jer. 31:34; Ezech. 36:25 v.; Joel 2:28 v. According to the promise this [497] Spirit is poured out on the day of Pentecost. His whole activity is called by Jesus a bearing witness, a glorifying of Himself, Joh. 15:26, 16:14. The H. Spirit is the true and the almighty Witness for Christ. The whole world stands hostile over against Christ, no one takes up his cause. But the H. Spirit steps in with that world as the paraclete, as the defender of Christ. He does that first of all in Scripture; this is the testimony, the plea of the H. Spirit for Christ, which He utters and maintains through all the centuries. This testimonium Spiritus Sancti in S. Scriptura precedes and lies at the foundation of the testimony, which the H. Spirit bears in the hearts of believers. Just as the thoughts of God are objectively embodied in the world and are derived from it by the human spirit, so also the word of revelation is first completely described in the H. Scripture, in order thereafter to be sealed in our hearts by the testimony of the H. Spirit. Here too the activity of the spirit of man consists in nothing else than to give testimony to the truth, and to think through what God has thought beforehand. The testimonium Sp. S. in the believers here already proves not to be a new revelation or communication of unknown truths. It is essentially distinct from prophecy and inspiration; it only makes the truth, which exists outside of and independently of us, to be understood as truth and thus assures and seals it in human consciousness. The relation of the testimony of the H. Spirit in the hearts of believers to the truth of revelation in the H. Scripture is m. m. no other than that of the human spirit to the object of its knowledge. The subject does not create the truth; it only acknowledges and affirms it.

But the analogy extends still further. The objects of human knowledge are all αὐτοπιστα, they rest in themselves, their existence can be acknowledged but not proved. Proofs in the strict sense are possible only with respect to derived propositions, and then consist in this, that these are reduced to general propositions. To prove is: to lead back the unknown to the known, the particular to the general, the uncertain to the established. Perhaps it is even more correct to say that proving consists in reducing uncertain and doubted propositions to such as are now once for all generally accepted as [498] established. For the prima principia, on which all proofs ultimately rest, are themselves not susceptible of any proof; they stand firm only by and for faith. Proofs are therefore of force only for him who agrees with us in these principia. Contra principia negantem non est disputandum. Thus in morals theft can be proved to be impermissible to him who acknowledges the authority of the moral law, but every proof is powerless over against him who denies this authority. The moral law itself is αὐτοπιστος, it rests in itself, it is like the sun which is seen only by its own rays; it depends on no proof and reasoning; it is mighty because it is there, posits and maintains itself; its power consists in its authority, in the divine majesty with which it makes its: thou shalt, be heard in our conscience. The moral law would weaken itself if it were to reason with us and submit itself to our judgment. It appears categorically, and will know nothing of any exceptions, of any excuses. To the question: why do you submit to the moral law? only one answer is possible: because it reveals to me God’s will. But if it is then further asked: why do you believe that that moral law is God’s will? no conclusive answer can be given any more. Whoever nevertheless wishes to answer, takes a by-path and appeals to all manner of notae and criteria, in which that divinity of the moral law makes itself known to him. But conclusive proofs are not these. And so it stands with all principia. They rest in themselves and stand firm only for faith. In the same way it is related in theology. Proofs are possible here only with respect to the derived propositions. The Godhead of Christ can be proved to him who acknowledges the authority of Scripture. But the authority of Scripture rests in itself and is not susceptible of any proof. Holy Scripture is αὐτοπιστος and therefore the final ground of faith. A deeper ground is not to be adduced. To the question: why do you believe Scripture? the only answer is, because it is God’s word. But if it is then further asked: why do you believe that Holy Scripture is God’s word? the Christian must remain owing the answer. To be sure, he will then appeal to the notae and criteria of Scripture, to the majesty of its style, the sublimity of its content, the depth of its thoughts, the blessedness of its fruits, etc.; but these are nevertheless not the grounds [499] of his faith, they are only properties and marks, which are later discovered in Scripture by believing thought, just as the proofs for God’s existence do not precede faith and support it, but proceed from it and are thought out by it. All proofs for faith in Scripture, derived from its notae and criteria, show most clearly that no deeper ground can be indicated. The Deus dixit is the primum principium, to which all dogmata, also that concerning Scripture, can be reduced. The bond of the soul to Scripture as the word of God lies behind consciousness, and beneath the proofs; it is mystical in nature, just like faith in the principia in the various sciences.

6. Against this representation, however, the objection is raised from various sides, that in this way believing becomes wholly arbitrary. Instead of giving reasons why Scripture is believed as the word of God, one answers that God causes it to be believed thus. With that the Mohammedan can prove his faith in the Koran, and every superstitious person his superstition. The sic volo, sic jubeo takes the place of reason and proof. Cf. e.g. Scholten against Saussaye, Leer der Herv. Kerk, 3e druk, voorrede. Against this, however, it should in the first place be remarked, that the believer indeed cannot indicate any deeper ground for revelation than its divine authority, which he acknowledges by faith. But for that reason he still has something to bring forward over against the opponent of that revelation. It is so, conclusive proofs he does not have, he cannot move the opponent to faith, but for defence he has at least as much to say as the other has for attack. Unbelief too in the end does not rest on proofs and reasonings but is rooted in the heart. Believers and unbelievers stand in this respect completely equal; the conviction of both coheres with their whole personality and is only supported aposteriori by proof and reasoning. And if now both wage battle against each other with these aposterioric proofs and reasonings, the believers are in no more unfavourable condition than those who do not believe. God is knowable enough for those who seek Him, and again hidden enough for those who flee from Him. Il y a assez de lumière pour ceux, qui ne désirent [500] que de voir, et assez d’obscurité pour ceux, qui ont une disposition contraire. Il y a assez de clarté pour éclairer les élus, et assez d’obscurité pour les humilier. Il y a assez d’obscurité pour aveugler les réprouvés, et assez de clarté, pour les condamner et les rendre inexcusables, Pascal, Oeuvres, Paris, Hachette 1869 I 345. With religion, theism, revelation and Scripture it is not yet so hopeless as science has for years long wanted to make us believe. Theodor von Lerber recently wrote of science not entirely without reason: ich habe als Dilettant zu oft neben ihr gesessen und ihr in die Karten und auf die Finger geschaut, um noch übermässigen Respekt vor der Dame zu haben. Sie wird mir auf meinen Grabstein schreiben müssen: er dachte klein von mir und starb, bij A. Zahn, Socialdemokratie und Theologie, Gütersloh 1895 S. 34. Historical and rational proofs will convert no one, but are nevertheless for the defence of faith just as powerful as the arguments of the opposing party for the justification of its unbelief. Further, the testimony that is given by believers to the Christian revelation, to Scripture, is indeed not generally human, but is nevertheless generally Christian. The whole of Christendom is unanimous in this confession. The testimonium Spiritus Sancti is not the testimony of a spiritus privatus, but of the one and the same Spirit, who dwells in all believers. Calvin declared, discussing this testimony, to describe nothing other than what was the experience of all believers, Inst. I 7, 6. It is a mighty testimony, which is given by the church of all ages to Scripture as the word of God. Over no dogma does there reign so great unanimity. It is a fact, which may not be placed on one line with hallucination or arbitrariness, and which in any case requires explanation. Next, the believer can certainly indicate no deeper ground for his faith than the divine authority of Holy Scripture. But he can give further explanation concerning the manner in which he has come to this faith. It is so, as a rule someone is born and brought up in that faith; later he himself discovers that with his whole soul he lies bound to Scripture, and then tries to think about it and to give himself an account of this mystical bond. But more than once it happens that someone at a later age comes to conversion and to faith in Scripture. And also those who from youth onward have lived out of that faith, [501] are often shaken and tossed to and fro by criticism; only gradually do they come to the firm assurance of faith. What now is the experience by which faith in revelation is first awakened or later restored and strengthened? It is of course different in the different believers; but it is nevertheless always of a religious-ethical, of a spiritual nature. What really makes us believe is not the insight of our understanding nor a decision of our will; but it is a power that stands above us, that bends our will, that illumines our understanding, that without compulsion and yet efficaciously leads our thoughts and deliberations captive to the obedience of Christ. That Augustine confessed, when he ascribed faith to the gratia interna. That Thomas acknowledged, when he said that the assensus fidei was a Deo, interius movente per gratiam. That the Vatican council expressed, when it testified that faith did not come into being absque illuminatione et inspiratione Spiritus Sancti. And that was the conviction of the whole Reformation: faith is a gift of God, an operation of the Holy Spirit. Believing is an act of the understanding, is an immediate, not mediated by proofs, attachment of consciousness to revelation. But that faith presupposes a change in the relation of the whole human being to God, it presupposes regeneration, the conversion of the will. Nemo credit nisi volens. Knowing compels; no one can deny a mathematical proposition. But believing is free, it is the act of the highest freedom, because the act of the deepest self-denial. If God connects salvation not to knowing but to believing, then that is a proof that He does not compel and does not wish to compel. The letter to Diognetus, cap. 7 says so beautifully: βια γαρ οὐ προσεστι τῳ θεῳ. Precisely because faith is not a fruit of scientific proofs, it does not come into being apart from the heart and the will of the human being. That is the truth that lies in the doctrine of Kant and the Neo-Kantians concerning moral faith. Faith is not a conclusion of a syllogism. Yet on the other side it is also no act of will, no postulate. The prodigal son does not postulate, when he returns to the father’s house. Faith is also no imperium voluntatis. One cannot believe if one wants. The will cannot command consciousness to accept something as truth, [502] if it itself in no way at all sees the truth of it. Believing is no arbitrariness, but it is also not blind. It presupposes a change of will, operari sequitur esse; but it is a free, spontaneous recognition of the understanding of the word of God. As the eye, seeing the sun, is at once convinced of its reality, so the regenerate beholds the truth of God’s revelation. For the regenerate, faith in revelation is as natural as for the moral human being the recognition of the moral law. It is implanted in the nature of spiritual life; it is rooted in the mysterious depths of the regenerate heart. The believer can relinquish this faith as little as himself. Yes, himself he can deny, his life he can sacrifice, but his faith he cannot let go. Faith in revelation is in the Christian one with faith in himself, Hoekstra, Wijsg. Godsd. I 222. Kuyper, Encycl. II 77. The Christian would have to relinquish faith in himself, in his sonship, in the forgiveness of his sins, in the truthfulness and the faithfulness of God, in order not to see in revelation the word of God. Faith in revelation is one with the best that is in him; in his best moments he stands most strongly in that faith. Whatever may rise up against it, he cannot do otherwise and may not do otherwise. Finally, much rises up against this his faith. Not only from without, but much more from within. However much the will is bent and the understanding is illumined, there remains in the believer still much that rises up against this obedience of faith. Faith is, because it is a proof of things that one does not see, a continual struggle. Sins of the heart and errors of the head oppose faith; and they often have the appearance on their side. There remains a dualism in the believer, as long as he is on earth; a dualism not of head and heart, but of σαρξ and πνευμα, of the παλαιος and the καινος ἀνθρωπος. Faith retains more or less a supranatural character, insofar as it goes beyond the nature of the psychical human being. It is not yet fully natural; as soon as it becomes that, it itself ceases and passes over into beholding. Faith is precisely faith, because it sees something that the psychical human being does not perceive. But this dualism, however painful also, nevertheless on the other side serves for confirmation of faith. For if faith does not arise out of the natural dispositions of the human being, and is neither a conclusion of a syllogism nor a decision of the will; then its presence is at the same time a proof for its truth. Our own spirit does not by nature drive us to call God our Father and to count ourselves among His children. There is an essential and also easily knowable difference between the testimony of the Holy Spirit, when He says to our soul: I am your salvation, and the temptation of Satan when he speaks: Peace, peace and no danger. Potestne quis a diabolo impelli, ut Deum in fide Abba, Patrem vocet? Heidegger, Corpus Theol. loc. 24 § 78. The Christian faith refers back to the testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Whether Theology revile and Philosophy mock, God himself is the final ground of my faith in God (Beets).

7. This testimonium Spiritus Sancti has been all too one-sidedly related by Calvin and the Reformed theologians to the authority of Holy Scripture. It seemed that it had no other content than the subjective assurance of Scripture as the word of God. As a result this testimonium came to stand on its own; it was detached from the life of faith and seemed to indicate an extraordinary revelation, of which Michaelis was honest enough to acknowledge that he had never experienced it. Scripture, however, teaches quite differently. In general the Holy Spirit is promised by Jesus as the Comforter, as the Spirit of truth, who in the first place leads the apostles, but then through their word also all believers, into the truth, bears witness among them of Christ and glorifies Him, Joh. 14:17, 15:26, 16:14. To that end He convinces of sin, Joh. 16:8-11, regenerates, Joh. 3:3, and brings to the confession of Christ as Lord, 1 Cor. 12:3. And furthermore He assures of the sonship and of the heavenly inheritance, Rom. 8:14 v.; 2 Cor. 1:22, 5:5; Ef. 1:13, 4:30, makes known all things that have been bestowed by God upon the believer, 1 Cor. 2:12; 1 Joh. 2:20, 3:24, 4:6-13, and in the church is the author of all Christian virtues and of all spiritual gifts, Gal. 5:22; 1 Cor. 12:8-11. Clearly it appears from all these passages, that the testimony of the Holy Spirit is of a religious-ethical nature and is most closely connected with one’s own life of faith. It does not proceed apart from faith, it is no voice from heaven, no dream or vision; it is a testimony, [504] which the Holy Spirit bears in, with, through our own spirit in faith. It is not bestowed upon unbelievers but is the portion only of the children of God. Episcopius, Instit. Theol. IV sect. 1 c. 5 § 2, therefore raised the objection, that the testimonium Sp. S. cannot be a ground of faith, because it follows only after it, Joh. 7:38, 14:17; Hd. 5:32; Gal. 3:2, 4:6. But faith itself from the very first beginning is a work of the Holy Spirit, 1 Cor. 12:3 and receives in the Spirit of the υἱοθεσια its seal and confirmation. Believing itself is a testimony of the Holy Spirit in our hearts and through our spirit. There is only insofar a distinction between the Spirit of God and our spirit in this testimony, as our spirit again and again still resists it and must continually be led to obedience. Therefore the testimony of the Holy Spirit gives no assurance of the objective truths of salvation outside connection with the state of the religious subject. It assures those truths, because they stand in inseparable connection with regeneration and conversion, forgiveness and sonship of the believer. The testimonium Spiritus Sancti is first of all an assurance, that we are children of God. That is the central truth, the core and the midpoint of this testimony. But in connection therewith it also seals the objective truths of salvation, the transcendent and transeunt truths, as Frank called them. Yet with this further determination, that the testimonium Sp. S. reveals none of these truths to us, nor also puts us in a position to derive them by reflection from the nature of our spiritual life. The illumination of the Holy Spirit is no source of knowledge of Christian truth; it makes known to us no material truths that are hidden from the natural man; it only makes us understand and apprehend the same things differently, more deeply, spiritually. Paul says expressly, that the Spirit makes us know the things that have been objectively bestowed upon us by God in Christ, 1 Cor. 2, cf. Hoekstra, Grondslag, wezen en openbaring van het godsd. geloof 1861 bl. 165 v. 184. The Spirit, whom believers receive, is the Spirit of Christ, who takes everything from Christ and is received from the preaching of the gospel, Joh. 14:17; Gal. 3:2, 4:6; 1 Joh. 2:20, 24, 27. But the truths themselves are known to us from elsewhere out of Scripture; they are only subjectively sealed by the testimony of the Holy Spirit. [505]

From this it follows that the proper object to which the Holy Spirit bears witness in the hearts of believers is nothing other than the divinitas of the truth bestowed upon us in Christ. Historical, chronological, geographical data are never, as such, in themselves, the object of the witness of the Holy Spirit. Even the facts of salvation are not, as nuda facta, the content of that witness. No believer is, by the witness of the Holy Spirit, assured in a scientific sense of the supernatural conception and the resurrection of Christ. The only thing to which the witness of the Holy Spirit relates is the divinitas. But then also the divinitas of all those truths which have been revealed in Scripture and have been bestowed upon us by God in Christ. It is incorrect to let the testimonium Sp. S. bear only upon that which in a narrower sense is only religious-ethical. Indeed, the divinitas is the only direct object of that witness, but this divinitas is not only a property of some religious and moral statements, but equally of facts and deeds. Christ himself is a historical person, redemption has been brought about by historical deeds, and the testimonium Sp. S. also impresses upon this history the mark of divinitas. Therefore this testimonium Sp. S. has also rightly been brought by Calvin into connection with Scripture as the word of God. For not only does this Scripture, omnium consensu, have a rich religious-ethical significance for the Christian life, but it also contains a doctrine about itself. The Holy Spirit reveals to the believer not a single truth, no more concerning the person of Christ than concerning Holy Scripture. The believer can only confess what God has bestowed upon him in Christ. But Scripture also contains a doctrine about itself just as well as about Christ. And the testimonium Sp. S. with respect to Holy Scripture consists in this, not that the believer receives an immediate, heavenly intuition of the divinity of Scripture; nor also that he mediately concludes to its divinity from the notae and criteria; nor that he ascends to its divinity from the experience of the power that proceeds from it; but in this, that he freely and spontaneously acknowledges the authority with which Holy Scripture everywhere appears and which it itself repeatedly expressly vindicates for itself. Not the authenticity, nor the canonicity, nor even the inspiration, but the divinitas [506] of Scripture, its divine authority, is hereby the proper object of the witness of the Holy Spirit. It causes the believer to submit to Scripture and binds him in the same measure and power to it as to the person of Christ himself. It assures him that in need and death, in life and dying, he can rely upon that word of God and with it even appear without fear before the Judge of heaven and earth. Historical criticism of Scripture therefore encounters resistance within the congregation only insofar as it detracts from this divinitas of Holy Scripture and thereby undermines the witness of the sonship of God, the hope of glory, the certainty of salvation. In a certain sense there is a circular reasoning hidden in this testimonium Sp. S. The divinitas of Scripture is proved from this witness, and the divinitas of this witness in turn from Scripture. Only, the testimonium Spiritus Sancti occurs here in a twofold respect. The believer first feels himself bound in his soul to the word of God and then later learns from Holy Scripture to understand that that faith in Scripture has been worked in his heart by the Holy Spirit. Strictly speaking, the witness of the Holy Spirit is also not the final ground of his faith, for Scripture is αὐτοπιστος; but it is the means by which he recognizes the divinity of Scripture. Scripture and the witness of the Holy Spirit relate to one another as objective truth and subjective assurance, as the prima principia and their evidence, as the light and the eye. Once recognized in its divinity, Scripture stands for the faith of the congregation immovably fixed as the word of God, so that it is principium and norma of faith and of life.

8. This testimony of the Holy Spirit is not nullified by the fact that it is apparently so different in believers. Bellarmine already objected to it, that Luther and Calvin, despite this testimonium Sp. S., passed a very divergent judgment on the Epistle of James. But the Holy Spirit testifies in the heart of believers not only concerning Holy Scripture but likewise in relation to all other truths of salvation. There is no church which, in this sense, does not accept a testimony, an illumination of the Holy Spirit. And yet thereby difference in the confession of the distinct truths is not excluded. We believe one holy catholic Christian church, a communion [507] of saints; all believers confess one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and are saturated into one Spirit; and yet there is division and strife between the churches among themselves and in the principal articles of faith. The unity of the Christian church with respect to Scripture is much greater than in any other dogma; not even that of the Trinity and the Godhead of Christ excepted. Yet all that difference does not make us doubt the unity of faith and of knowledge, the catholicity of the church, the guidance of the Spirit into all truth; for difference will remain, as long as the church is imperfect, the heart corrupt, insight limited, faith small and weak. In the individual believer the testimonium Spiritus Sancti is not always equally strong and loud; because it is most closely connected with faith and the life of faith, it rises and falls and is subject to doubt and opposition. When in the believer sin gains the upper hand, the consciousness of his forgiveness is darkened and the testimony of the Holy Spirit loses in power. Our faith in Scripture decreases from time to time with our trust in Christ. The confession of the testimonium Spiritus Sancti is so high and ideal, that the reality of the Christian life often remains far beneath it.

In addition to this, Scripture is most certainly a book also for the individual believer, but nevertheless in connection with the church of all ages. Scripture has been bestowed upon the whole church, upon the believers of all times and places. The individual believer always nourishes himself with a small portion of Scripture. There are entire sections of Scripture which, for individual believers, yes, for entire churches and times, remain a closed book. But the confession of Scripture as God’s word is a confession of the whole church, with which the individual believer agrees, and which he also, for his person and according to the measure of his faith, supports and maintains, Hofmann, Weiss. und Erf. I 45 f. The testimonium Spiritus Sancti is not a private opinion, but the testimony of the church of all ages, of the whole of Christendom, of the whole reborn humanity. That church also once stood in all its members, like the world, hostile over against the word of God. But the H. Spirit has received it in and with her as the truth of Christ. He has broken her hostility, enlightened her understanding, bent her will; and preserves her with the [508] truth from age to age and from day to day. The whole confession of the congregation is a testimonium Spiritus Sancti. It is the yes and amen that the congregation pronounces upon the truth of God. It is the: Abba Father, your word is the truth, that rises up from the hearts of all believers. So little is the testimonium Spiritus Sancti the Achilles’ heel of Protestantism, that it rather deserves to be called the cornerstone of the Christian confession, the crown and the seal of all Christian truth, the triumph of the H. Spirit in the world. Take away the testimony of the H. Spirit, not only in relation to Scripture but to all truths of salvation, and there is no church any more. For the testimony that the H. Spirit gives to Scripture as the word of God is only a single tone in the song that He lays upon the lips of the congregation; it is only a small part of that great, divine work that has been entrusted to the H. Spirit, namely, to cause the fullness of Christ to dwell in his congregation. But thus considered, this testimony of the H. Spirit is also, over against opponents, not devoid of all value. When it is detached from its whole environment and is cut off from the life of faith in which it is rooted, from the communion of the saints in which it blossoms, from the whole of Christian truth with which it is connected; most certainly, then it loses, over against assailants, all its power, and the yes of the one is not stronger than the no of the other. But understood as testimony, borne by the H. Spirit in the hearts of all children of God concerning the truth which is there in Christ the Lord, it does not fail to make an impression upon the mind, even of the most stubborn assailant. Even then it still does not come to stand on one line with a logical reasoning or a mathematical proof. It retains a power of its own. But unhappy would science be, if it were allowed to reckon only with what is demonstrable. Has conscience no power, because the immoral man at every moment goes against its testimony? Do the principia of science deserve no faith, because the skeptic refuses to acknowledge them? Is Holy Scripture powerless, because its truth cannot be demonstrated to the psychical man? The power of all these moral magnitudes lies precisely in this, that they do not demonstrate themselves, but in high majesty place themselves before everyone’s consciousness. They are mighty through the authority [509] with which they appear. A father does not prove his authority to his children but maintains it with droit divin. And so does Holy Scripture. It has maintained its authority in the congregation of Christ up to this day; it has made all believers, and among them the greatest minds and the noblest souls, bow before its authority. What power in the world is to be compared with that of Scripture? The testimonium Spiritus Sancti is the victory of the foolishness of the cross over the wisdom of the world, the triumph of the thoughts of God over the deliberations of man. In this sense the testimony of the H. Spirit possesses an excellent apologetic value. For this is the victory that overcomes the world, namely our faith.

§ 19. Faith and Theology.

1. The Christian church has not been satisfied with faith, but almost from the beginning has striven after knowledge of religious truth and has bestowed esteem on a special science, theology. Yet it cannot be said that this urge toward science is enclosed in faith as such. For faith is certainty and excludes all doubt; it rests in the word of God and has enough in that. Nobis curiositate opus non est post Christum Jesum, nec inquisitione post evangelium. Cum credimus, nihil desideramus ultra credere, Tertullianus, de praescr. haer. 8. Die Frömmigkeit ist ihrer selbst unmittelbar gewiss, Rothe, Theol. Ethik. § 7. The right and the value of theological science has therefore been contested more than once in the Christian church. During the monophysite and monothelete disputes there was already a party of the Gnosimachi, who considered all science unnecessary for Christians. They taught that God demands nothing of the Christian but good works and that it was better, simplici rudique animo institutum suum persequi, quam multam curam in cognoscendis decretis atque sententiis ponere, Johannes Damascenus, de haeresibus, Opera Omnia, Basileae 1575 p. 585. Toward the end of the Middle Ages the aversion to theology was general. Scholasticism had lost all confidence. In all circles and among all sects [510] there was a strong desire for a more simple, practical Christianity, Harnack, D. G. III2 573. Humanism looked down with contempt on scholasticism, Paulsen, Gesch. des gelehrten Unterrichts, Leipzig 1885 S. 1 f. And since then the opposition to scholasticism in the Roman church has almost never been silent. Bajus, Jansenius, Launoy, many theologians in the previous and in this century, e.g. Günther, have brought forward all kinds of serious accusations against scholastic theology, Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit IV2 133 f. Denzinger, Vier Bücher von der rel. Erk. II 566 f.

The Reformation initially adopted the same standpoint. Luther’s judgment on Aristotle, scholasticism, and reason is known. Köstlin, Luthers Theol. I 106 f. Melanchthon wrote in the first edition of his loci: hoc est Christum cognoscere, beneficia ejus cognoscere, non quod isti (scholastici) docent, ejus naturas, modos incarnationis intueri, ed. Augusti 1821 p. 9. Zwingli said that to be a Christian did not consist in schwatzen von Christo, sunder wandeln wie er gewandlet hat, cf. my Ethiek van Zwingli bl. 119 v. Calvin likewise lays strong emphasis on this practical side of faith, Inst. I, 2, 2. I, 5, 9. I, 12, 1. Comm. on Rom. 1:19. But many went further than the Reformers and rejected all theology. Carlstadt condemned, with appeal to Mt. 23:8, all scholarly titles and went to live as a peasant among the peasants, Herzog2 7, 528. The Anabaptists and the Mennonites wanted to know nothing of a scholarly training for the ministry of the word, and granted the right to “admonish” to all believers. Menno Simons passed, concerning the church and its ministers, concerning study and learning, many times a very strict judgment, Alle de Godtgel. Wercken, Amst. 1681 bl. 34 v. 59 v. 260. 270 etc. Only later did the Mennonite teachers receive a scholarly training, Herzog2 9, 575. Sepp, Kerkhist. Studiën, Leiden 1885 bl. 84, 85. And when later in the Protestant churches the scholastic treatment of theology gained ground, reaction came from all sides. Calixtus and Coccejus, Spener and Zinzendorf, Fox and Wesley etc., they all were driven by the desire for more simplicity and truth in the doctrine of faith. To that end one had to go back from doctrine to life, from the confession to Scripture, from theology to religion. Even deism and rationalism were related to this striving [511]; seeking the general and the common that lay at the foundation of all religions and confessions, they appealed from the christliche Religion to the Religion Christi, from the statutory Religion to the Vernunftreligion. Through the agnostic direction of philosophy, the feeling-theology of Schleiermacher, the historical criticism of Scripture and other influences, this striving has increased still more. The aversion to dogmatics is now general. Many look longingly for a new word, a new dogma, desire a religion without theology, a life without doctrine, and strive for a practical, undogmatic Christianity (Dreyer, Egidy, Drummond, Tolstoï etc.). To a certain extent this striving has found its scholarly defense in the school of Ritschl. It came forward with the demand that theology must be delivered entirely from metaphysics, Ritschl, Theol. u. Metaph. 1881, cf. also his studies on the doctrine of God, Jahrb. für deutsche Theol. 1865, 1868. Harnack in his Dogmengeschichte, and E. Hatch in his work, The influence of Greek ideas and usages upon the christ. church, London 1890, German translation by E. Preuschen, Griechenthum und Christ. Freiburg 1882, cf. also Kaftan, Die Wahrheit der christl. Religion 1889, applied this principle to the history of the dogmas, and tried to show that theology is a fruit of the ill-timed marriage concluded between original Christianity and Greek philosophy. The accusations, brought by all these directions against theology, specifically against dogmatics, come down to this, that it falsifies the purity and the simplicity of the Christian religion; changes religion into a doctrine that must be proved and accepted intellectually; kills the religious life, promotes a cold barren orthodoxy and makes the fides implicita necessary; and finally also brings religion as doctrine into conflict with science, and alienates the educated classes from the Christian faith. Cf. e.g. Kaftan, Glaube und Dogma, 3e Aufl. 1889.

2. No one will deny that there is seriousness and truth in these complaints about theology. It has many times overshot its goal and degenerated into battology. It has all too often forgotten that our knowing on earth is a knowing in part and a [512] seeing in a dark saying. Sometimes it seemed to proceed from the thought that it could answer all possible questions and solve all issues. Modesty, tenderness, simplicity have often been lacking in it. That was the worse, because theology has to do with the deepest problems and comes into contact with the finest stirrings of the human heart. More than any other science the admonition befits it, μη ὑπερφρονειν παρ’ ὁ δει φρονειν. Better an honest non liquet than a daring conjecture. Nescire velle, quae Magister optimus docere non vult, erudita inscitia est. But thereby theology is nevertheless not condemned in principle. For, if revelation consisted only in communication of life and religion only in moods of the mind, there would be no place for a theology proper. But revelation is a system of words and deeds of God; it contains a world of thoughts; it has its center in the incarnation of the Logos. And religion is not feeling and emotion alone, but it is also faith, a conscious life, a serving of God with heart and head together. And therefore that revelation of God can be thought through, in order that it may the better enter into human consciousness. Indeed, it cannot be taken amiss of theology in this, if it applies itself to clarity in thinking, distinctness in distinguishing, precision in expression. In all sciences such a praecisitas is striven after and prized; in theology it is equally in its place. The danger that it will thereby degenerate into subtleties and hair-splittings exists in the other sciences, e.g. of law, of letters, equally. But no one will therefore dispute the right of those sciences. Theology too has its periods of bloom and decline; but it will not do to condemn it itself for the misuse that has been made of it. Abusus non tollit usum. Next, it has already become apparent to us earlier that the separation between the Christian religion on the one side and metaphysics etc. on the other side is just as little purely conceived as practically feasible. History has already proved this repeatedly and shows it again today. For in order to make such a separation somewhat possible, all the above-mentioned directions are compelled to form for themselves a one-sided and incomplete representation of the gospel of Christ. Almost [513] never do they go back to the whole of Scripture, but always to a part; to the N. Testament alone, or to the gospels, or to the sermon on the mount, or even to one single text. Francis of Assisi e.g. arranged his whole life according to Mt. 10:9, 10, Reuter, Gesch. der rel. Aufklärung im M. A. II 184, 186. Paul Sabatier, Leben des h. Fr. v. A. deutsch von M. L. Berlin 1895 S. 53. Tolstoi finds the core of the gospel in Mt. 5:38, 39, Worin besteht mein Glaube, Leipzig, Duncker 1885 S. 12. Drummond seeks in the love of 1 Cor. 13 the summum bonum. Ritschl changes the dogmata into religious-ethical value-judgments. Harnack D. G. I2 54 agrees with Ritschl in the conception of the original gospel. And many now ask why the Christian churches nevertheless have not been satisfied with the sermon on the mount. What the essence of Christianity is, in what revelation or the word of God consists, who the person of Christ is, is not decided by the apostles; each determines it for himself according to his own insights. The consequence of that is that all these directions must set not only the church, the confession, the theology but also the apostles over against Jesus and over against the original gospel. Harnack e.g. D. G. I 53 f. acknowledges that the apostolic-catholic doctrine too in the N. Test. no longer reproduces the gospel of Jesus purely. The influence of Judaism, Hellenism, and the Greek-Roman philosophy of religion is already noticeable in it. Already the apostles, especially Paul and John, have falsified the gospel. Ernst von Bunsen, Die Reconstruction der kirchl. Autorität, Leipzig Brockhaus 1893 argues that Paul has changed the gospel of Jesus into a speculative theology. And if then a fact such as the resurrection of Christ nevertheless cannot be removed from the original gospel, it is deprived of its religious value, Harnack D. G. I 74. Further, from this view it follows that the history of dogma cannot come into its own. It becomes one great aberration of the human, of the Christian spirit. The promise of the Spirit, who would lead into all truth, proves to have been vain. Even the possibility of knowing the truth is taken away from the church, because already the apostles have led it onto a wrong track. The doctrine of the logos, of the trinity, of the first and the second Adam, etc., all dogmata that must prove the [514] intermixture of Greek philosophy, is found indeed not verbally but yet materially already in Scripture. In one word, the history of dogmata is, as with Strauss, the history of their criticism. Not the church has overcome the world, but the world has overcome the church. Finally, with this one-sided conception of the original gospel there still threatens the danger that one loses communion with the church of all centuries and thereby with the time in which one lives. That has been the judgment of all sects. Cut off from the churches and despising theology, they have lost influence on their century and the bond with culture. Congregation and world, church and school, religion and science fall apart dualistically. By contrast, theology has the glorious calling to keep these two in connection with each other; to preserve, on the one hand, Christian life from all kinds of spiritual diseases of mysticism and separatism, and, on the other hand, to free scientific thinking from error and falsehood through the truth of Christ. The right of theology is grounded in the essence of the Christian religion. Revelation addresses itself to the whole human being, and has the whole world as its object. On every terrain it joins battle against the lie. It offers material for the deepest thinking and plants on scientific terrain the knowledge of God alongside and in organic connection with that of human being and world. On the dogma-historical views of Harnack and Hatch there may be consulted Pfleiderer, Entw. der prot. Theol. S. 369 f. Kuenen, Theol. Tijdschr. 1891 bl. 487 v. Van Rhijn, Theol. Studiën 1891 bl. 365 v., 437 v. Dr. W. Schmidt, Der alte Glaube und die Wahrheit des Christ. Berlin, Wigandt 1894. Henri Bois, Le dogme grec, Paris, Fischbacher 1892.

3. Although, however, the Christian dogma is not to be explained from Greek philosophy, it nevertheless did not arise without it. In Scripture there is as yet no dogma and no theology in the proper sense. So long as revelation itself was still continuing, it could not become the object of scientific reflection. Inspiration had to be finished before reflection could come to the fore. The usage of Mosaic, Pauline, Biblical theology and dogmatics, etc., therefore deserves no [515] recommendation; the word theology, moreover, does not occur in Scripture either and only gradually acquired its present meaning, Kuyper, Encycl. II 117 v. Theology first arose in the congregation of Christ when childish naïveté was past and thinking consciousness had awakened. Gradually the need arose to think through the thoughts of revelation, to connect them with the rest of knowledge, and to defend them against all manner of attack. For that one had need of philosophy. Scientific theology arose with its help. But that did not happen accidentally. The church has not been the victim of deception. The church fathers, in the formation and development of the dogmas, made ample use of philosophy. But they did that with full consciousness, with a clear insight into the dangers connected with it, with a clear account of the grounds on which they did it, and with explicit recognition of the word of the apostles as the only rule of faith and life. Therefore they also did not avail themselves of the whole of Greek philosophy; they made a choice; they used only that philosophy which was most suitable to think through and to defend the truth of God; they proceeded eclectically and have not adopted any single philosophical system, whether of Plato or of Aristotle, but with the help of Greek philosophy produced a philosophy of their own, a Christian philosophy. Furthermore, they used that philosophy only as an auxiliary. Just as Hagar was subservient to Sarah, just as the treasures of Egypt were employed by the Israelites for the adornment of the tabernacle, just as the wise men from the East laid down their gifts at the feet of the little child in Bethlehem; so, in the judgment of the church fathers, philosophy was subordinate to theology. From all this it speaks clearly that the use of philosophy in theology rested not on an error, but on a firm and clear conviction. The church fathers knew what they were doing. Thereby it is indeed not excluded that the influence of philosophy on some points was too strong for them. But then, in that connection, a distinction must nevertheless at once be made between the theology of the patres and the dogmas of the church. The church has at all times guarded against the misuse of philosophy; it has not only rejected Gnosticism but also condemned Origenism. [516] And up to now it has not succeeded in explaining the dogmas materially from philosophy; however often it has also been attempted, in the end the scriptural character of orthodoxy has always nevertheless been vindicated. Cf. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit IV 143 f. Denzinger, Vier Bücher usw. II 572 f.

The Reformation at the beginning adopted a hostile attitude toward scholasticism and philosophy. But it soon receded from that; because it was not a sect or did not wish to be, it could not do without a theology. Luther and Melanchthon therefore already returned to the use of philosophy and acknowledged its usefulness, cf. Ritter, Gesch. der neuern Philos. I 495 f. Ueberweg, Grundriss der Gesch. der Philos. III 5te Aufl. 1880 S. 17 f. and for the later luth. theologians, Hase, Hutterus Rediv. § 30. Schmid, Dogm. der ev. luth. K. § 5. Calvin from the beginning took this lofty standpoint, Inst. II, 2, 12 sq. and saw in philosophy a praeclarum Dei donum, Opera, ed. Amst. IX B. 50. And thus all Reformed theologians judged, Hyperius, de theologo seu de ratione studii theol. 1556 lib. I. Zanchius, Opera III 223 sq. VIII 653 sq. Alsted, Praecognita theol. p. 174 sq. Voetius, Disp. III 741 sq. 751 sq. Owen, Theologumena p. 509 sq. Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. I 71 sq. Now the question does not run about this, whether theology must make use of a particular philosophical system. Christian theology has never taken over any philosophical system without criticism and certified it as truth. Neither the philosophy of Plato nor that of Aristotle has been held by any theologian to be the true one. That nevertheless preference was given to these two philosophical systems had its cause herein, that these were best suited to develop and defend the truth. There also lay the thought in it, that the Greeks and Romans had received a peculiar calling and gift for the life of culture. In fact our whole civilization even today is built upon that of Greece and Rome. And Christianity has not destroyed this but Christianized it and thus sanctified it. But yet a particular philosophy is not necessary for theology. What it needs is philosophy in general. i.e. it comes to no scientific theology except through thinking. The proper principium cognoscendi internum of theology is thus not faith as such, but believing thinking, the [517] ratio christiana. Faith is conscious of itself and certain. It rests in revelation. It includes a knowing, but that knowing is wholly and entirely of a practical nature, a γιγνωσκειν in the sense of Holy Scripture. Theology therefore does not arise from the believers as such; it is no fruit of the church as ecclesia instituta; it does not have its origin in the office, which Christ has bestowed upon his congregation. But the believers have yet another, richer life, than comes to expression in the ecclesia instituta. As Christians they also live in family, state, society and practice science and art. Many more gifts than those works through the office are bestowed upon them, gifts of knowledge and wisdom and prophecy. Among them there are also those, who feel in themselves a strong urge to investigation and knowledge, who have received gifts, to think through the truth of God and to bring it into system. And thus theology arises in the church of Christ; it has as its subject not the instituted church but the church as organism, as the body of Christ; it is a fruit of the thinking of Christendom.

4. Faith and theology are therefore indeed distinct. More or less one was also at all times conscious of that. The sharp antithesis, which Gnosticism made between πιστις and γνωσις, was rejected; and also the relation, assumed between the two by the Alexandrian school, was not in all respects approved and endorsed, cf. above 60. But nevertheless the distinction was expressly maintained and at the same time the intimate connection of both was held fast and acknowledged. Augustine elevated the saying: per fidem ad intellectum to a principle of theology; he assumed between the two a relation as between conception and birth, work and reward. Fidei fructus est intellectus, tract. 22 in Ev. Joh. n. 2. Intellectus merces est fidei, tract. 29 in Ev. Joh. n. 6. He exhorts to it, ut ea, quae fidei firmitate jam tenes, etiam rationis luce conspicias. God does not despise reason. Absit namque, ut hoc in nobis Deus oderit, in quo nos reliquis animantibus excellentiores creavit, Ep. 120 ad Consent, n. 2-4. And this was the principle and the fundamental thought of the whole of scholasticism. Faith and theology were distinguished as habitus and actus, as theologia infusa and acquisita. Faith is assent to, theology is knowledge of [518] the revealed truths. Faith does indeed also include some knowledge concerning God and divine matters, but this knowledge concerns more the existentia than the rationes of those truths; the theologian, however, penetrates through to the idea, traces the connection of the truths and, thinking, derives others from them, Liebermann, Instit. Theol. ed. 8. Moguntiae 1857 cap. 1 § 1. That one was conscious of the distinction between religion and theology is also evident from the doctrine of the fides implicita. If faith according to Rome consisted in assent to revealed truths, sooner or later the question had to arise, which and how many of those truths one at least had to know and accept, in order to become a partaker of salvation. That question could arise with a view to the Heathen, with a view to the believers of the O. T. and also with a view to the ignorant and undeveloped believers in the days of the N. Test. Augustine had already said: turbam non intelligendi vivacitas, sed credendi simplicitas tutissimam facit, c. Epist. fundamenti cap. 4. But Lombardus first clearly brought this question to the fore in his Sententiae lib. III dist. 25. Since then it was treated at length in theology; in the 17th century it even gave occasion in France to a serious conflict, which was not resolved by Innocentius XI but was nevertheless brought to an end. Usually the doctrine of the fides implicita in Roman theology is presented in this way. The fides carbonaria is expressly rejected; all Roman theologians maintain that to saving faith some, be it also slight, knowledge belongs; wholly implicit therefore faith can and may never be. But that knowledge differs in the different dispensations of grace. In the days of the O. T. from Adam on up to the fall of Jerusalem, when the proper mysteries of Christianity, such as the Trinity and the incarnation, had not yet been promulgated, necessitate medii only these two articles were necessary to believe, that God is and that He is a rewarder, Hebr. 11:6. Thereby it is not said that many believers under the O. T. had no greater and deeper knowledge of the truth; Adam e.g. did also know the Trinity and the incarnation, Gen. 1:26, 2:23, 24, 3:15. But the simple believers could suffice with those two articles. For implicitly they then nevertheless also believed in the proper mysteries of Christianity, the Trinity and the incarnation. [519] In the existence and the unity of God the Trinity lies implicitly, and in that He is remunerator the incarnation lies implicitly enclosed. Now others, such as Wiggers, Daelman etc. did not yet see this latter so clearly, and therefore said that the O. T. believers had to accept four articles, namely besides the two mentioned above also the immortality of the soul and the corruption of sin (infectio animarum), in which then the two chief dogmas of Christianity were implicitly included. The most usual presentation, however, was that the two named articles were sufficient for the O. T. believers. But after the fall of Jerusalem those two principal truths of Christianity have been clearly revealed and made known; and now it is therefore necessitate medii necessary for everyone who wants to be saved, that he accept these four articles: Deus, isque remunerator, sanctissima trinitas, mediator. Others add still other articles to them, such as Deus Creator, Dei gratia ad salutem necessaria, immortalitas; and some even call the acceptance of the 12 articles, quoad substantiam, necessary. But the advocates of the four articles nevertheless express the most common opinion. This whole doctrine of the fides implicita is then supported with an appeal to Job 1:14: the oxen, i.e. the developed believers, were ploughing, and the she-asses, i.e. the simple laymen, grazing at their side. This exegesis already occurs in Gregorius M. Moral. lib. II cap. 25 and is then taken over by Lombardus, Thomas, Bellarminus etc. Cf. Lombardus, Sent. III dist. 25. Thomas, S. Theol. II 2 qu. 2 art. 5-8. Bellarminus, de Justific. I cap. 7. Billuart, Summa S. Thomae sive Cursus Theol. VII p. 46 sq. Daelman, Theol. seu Observ. theol. in Summam D. Thomae IV p. 44 sq. Dens, Theologia in usum semin. II 278 sq. M. Becanus, Theol. Scholastica, Tom. II Pars II tract. 1 p. 22 sq. Jansen, Praelect. Theol. I 699 sq. Albr. Ritschl, Fides implicita, Bonn 1890. The question itself, which underlies this doctrine of the fides implicita, is serious and important enough; it concerns nothing less than the essence of Christianity itself, the significance of Israel, the possibility of progression of revelation with the absolute character of the truth. But the intellectualistic conception of faith led to solving this question purely quantitatively; the acceptance of four articles of faith [520] makes the Christian; in practice the legend of the fides carbonaria proved to contain but all too much truth. In any case, however, the doctrine of the fides implicita clearly proves that the Roman theologians make a distinction between faith and theology in content and extent.

5. The Reformation, too, remained conscious of this difference. Lutheran and Reformed theologians adopted the distinction of habitus and actus of theology, of theologia infusa and acquisita. The former is the portion of all believers; in principle they know totam theologiam, they have the true and pure knowledge of God. But as acquisita it is only the portion of those who practice the knowledge of God scientifically. For then it is a notitia conclusionum ex principiis theologicis per discursum theologicum collectarum, et certo ordine dispositarum, atque animo impressarum diuturno labore ac exercitio, Alsted, Methodus sacrosanctae theologiae 1623 p. 117, 126, 175. Owen, Theologoumena p. 465 sq. Calovius, Isagoge ad S. Theol. p. 17, 18. To be sure, religio and theologia were repeatedly interchanged with one another, cf. e.g. Cloppenburg, Op. I 699. Mastricht, Theor.-pract. Theol. I cap. 2 § 3, which could occur all the more easily because theology and dogmatics were approximately the same. But even in the heyday of orthodoxy the distinction between faith and theology did not entirely perish, as is proved by the doctrine of the articuli fundamentales et non fundamentales. The Reformation decisively rejected the Roman doctrine of the fides implicita, Calv., Inst. III. 2 § 2-6. Chamier, Panstr. Cath. T. III lib. 12 cap. 5. Polanus, Synt. Theol. p. 592. Maresius, Synt. Theol. loc. 11 § 29, etc. Cf. Ritschl, Fides implicita S. 56 f. It had to do this, because it did not let saving faith consist in holding for true some incomprehended articles, but in a personal trust in the grace of God in Christ. But in place of that there soon came the distinction between fundamental and non-fundamental articles. Calvin already said that one ought not to separate from the church over less essential points, Instit. IV, 1 § 12, 13. IV, 2 § 1. Non enim unius sunt formae omnia verae doctrinae capita. Sunt quaedam ita necessaria cognitu, ut fixa esse et indubitata omnibus oporteat ceu propria religionis placita, qualia sunt: unum esse Deum, [521] Christum Deum esse ac Dei filium, in Dei misericordia salutem nobis consistere et similia. Sunt alia, quae inter ecclesias controversa, fidei tamen unitatem non dirimant, IV cap. 1 § 12. The juxtaposition used in the description of faith, of a certain knowledge by which I hold as true all that God has revealed in his word, and of a trust that all my sins are forgiven me for Christ’s sake, could give occasion to seek the center of gravity either in the fides generalis or in the fides specialis. The great number of churches that successively proceeded from the Reformation and differed from one another in various articles promoted the distinction between essential and incidental elements in revelation. The gradually arising syncretism and indifferentism, which went back from the particular to the common, made indication necessary of what belonged to the foundations of the Christian religion. Thus arose the doctrine of the articuli fundamentales. Nic. Hunnius seems to have used the expression first in his Διασκεψις de fundamentali dissensu doctrinae Lutheranae et Calvinianae 1626. Quenstedt spoke of articuli primarii et secundarii. Others followed, both in the Lutheran and in the Reformed churches, cf. Voetius, Disp. Sel. II 511-538. H. Alting, Theol. probl. nova I 9. Spanheim fil., Opera III col. 1289 sq. Heidegger, Theol. I § 51 sq. Turret. Theol. El. I qu. 14. Moor, Comm. in Marckii Comp. I 481 sq. Witsius, Exercit. in Symb. II § 2. Bretschneider, System. Entw. aller in der Dogm. vork. Begriffe, 4te Aufl. 1841 S. 103 f. Tholuck, Der Geist der luth. Theologen Wittenbergs 1852 S. 252 f. Orthodoxy was of course not inclined to limit the articuli fundamentales to a small number; but nevertheless the striving is noticeable to conceive these articles centrally and to group them around the person of Christ. The Roman Catholics, however, rejected this distinction, even though it apparently still had so much resemblance to the fides implicita. They brought the Reformed and Lutheran divines into no small embarrassment. They asked where God in his word had made a distinction between essential and incidental truths; where one derived the right to separate in divine revelation the fundamental from the non-fundamental; which truths then had to be reckoned among the fundamental; who [522] had to determine that; and how, on such a standpoint, rationalism and indifferentism were to be avoided? Faith, after all, as they asserted, has not only as object the divina misericordia, Conc. Trid. sess. VI can. 12, but omnia quae Deus revelavit, Bellarminus, de Justif. I c. 8. According to the Jesuits at the religious colloquy at Regensburg 1601 it was also an articulus fidei, quod canis Tobiae caudam moverit. Cf. Denzinger, Vier Bücher usw. II 277 f. Heinrich, Dogm. II 658 f. Jansen, Prael. Theol. I 449 sq. Lamennais, Essai sur l’indifférence I ch. 6, 7, etc. Over against all these objections the Protestant theologians did indeed appeal to Scripture, Mt. 16:16; 1 Cor. 2:2, 3:11 v.; Ef. 2:20; Gal. 6:14; 1 Petr. 2:6, etc. and did indeed make all kinds of distinctions, Spanheim. t. a. p. col. 1308 sq. But they did not conceal the difficulties from themselves; they were afraid of erring in excessu and in defectu; and they ended with the declaration that they could not determine the minimum of knowledge with which a sincere faith had to be accompanied, Voetius, Disp. II 537, 781. Spanheim t. a. p. col. 1291. Witsius, Exerc. in Symb. II § 2 and 15. Hoornbeek, Conf. Socin. I p. 209. Orthodoxy issued in rationalism on the one side and pietism on the other. Doctrine and life fell farther and farther apart. Head and heart contended for precedence. Theology and religion came to stand over against one another. We have not yet got beyond the antithesis. For years there has been the cry: religion is not doctrine but life; it does not matter what you believe, but only how you live. Gradually, however, the eyes are also opening to the one-sidedness of this direction and the value of religious representations for religious life is being better recognized, cf. e.g. Dr. Bruining in various writings, Gids Juni 1884. Moderne mystiek 1885. Het bestaan van God 1892. Theol. Tijdschr. Nov. 1894.

6. In the investigation into the relation of faith and theology, the question must be posed purely. It does not read: which truths someone must at least know and hold for true, in order to be saved. Let that question be left to Rome; and let Roman theology determine whether for that purpose two or four or more articles are needed. Protestant theology has, in the doctrine of the articuli fundamentales, indeed incurred the appearance [523] as though it wished to follow such a path. But it has ended with the acknowledgment that it did not know the greatness of God’s mercy and therefore could not determine the measure of knowledge that is necessarily proper to a sincere faith. And moreover, between the doctrine of the fides implicita and that of the articuli fundamentales, with all apparent agreement, there is an important difference. In Rome that doctrine was developed with a view to the simple laypeople, the asinae of Job 1:14. But in the theology of the Reformation it had its origin in the fact that different churches appeared alongside one another with a confession differing among themselves on many points; it was thus actually an investigation into the essence of Christianity. In Rome faith is assent to all kinds of revealed truths, which can be added up article by article and in the course of time have increased in number. But the Reformation conceived faith as fides specialis, with a particular central object, the grace of God in Christ; here a summation of articles, whose knowledge and assent are necessary for salvation, was no longer possible. Faith is a personal relation of the human being to Christ; it is organic and has laid aside addition, quantity. Rome therefore had to determine a minimum, without which there can be no question of salvation; with the Reformation faith is a trust in the grace of God and thus is no longer susceptible to any calculation. Every believer, both in the O. and in the N. Test., possesses in germ that same knowledge which in theology is developed more deeply and more broadly. From this standpoint the relation of faith and theology is also to be set in a clearer light.

First of all there is between the two a strong agreement. They have the principle: the word of God, the object: the knowledge of God, the goal: the honor of God in common with one another. Theology also, as a science, stands on the foundation of faith. The place which in the other sciences belongs to observation is here taken by faith. Faith provides theology with the material for thinking. In mundane science it is called: sensus praecedit intellectum, nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu; in theology the motto is: fides praecedit intellectum, nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in fide, Rothe, Theol. Ethik § 267 II S. 180 [524] note. Leibniz therefore compared la foi with l’expérience, Discours sur la conformité de la foi avec la raison, ch. 1. Begriffe ohne Anschauungen sind leer, said Kant; and thus theology also has no content except from and through faith. As soon as it lets go of faith, it itself as theology ceases to exist. And also by thinking it never rises above this standpoint of faith. In all manner of ways this has indeed been attempted, but it has proved vain. Faith is the beginning and also the end of theology; it never brings it to a knowing in the proper sense, i.e. to a knowing on the ground of one’s own observation and insight. Thereby theology is not deprived of its freedom. Faith simply posits and maintains that relation which in this domain ought to exist between subject and object. It does not place the theologian outside and over against and above, but under and in the truth which he has to investigate. It does nothing else than bind theology to its own object, in no other way than every other science is bound and remains bound to observation and through it stands in relation with its object. Theology is as free and as dependent as every other science. It is free from all bonds that conflict with its nature; but it is wholly and entirely determined by the object which it seeks to know, and this it has in common with all sciences. The more strictly it binds itself to its object, the less danger it runs of degenerating into dry scholasticism and idle rhetoric. Through faith theology remains a science of religion, a Theologie der Thatsachen, which thinks not about concepts but about things and does not lose itself in empty abstractions but stands with both feet in that world of realities which Scripture reveals to us, Vilmar, Die Theologie der Thatsachen wider die Theologie der Rhetorik, 4e Aufl. 1876.

But on the other side there is a considerable difference between faith and theology. In earlier times both could easily be interchanged with one another, because theology and dogmatics were fairly well identical concepts with ethics. But theology has now become the name for an entire cycle of disciplines. The distinction therefore now at once strikes everyone’s eye. Theology nowadays comprises a multitude of sciences, which the simple believer does not even know by name [525]. But even if theology is taken in the old sense, the distinction nevertheless remains great. In every domain there is a difference between ordinary, everyday, empirical knowing, and proper, higher, scientific knowing. Every human being has some empirical knowledge of sun, moon, stars, etc., but this knowledge differs as widely as heaven and earth from the scientific knowledge of the astronomer. The former knows only the facta, the latter the rationes. The man of science does not despise ordinary, empirical knowing; he does not overthrow natural certainty; but he nevertheless has the calling to elucidate that ordinary knowing, to expand it, and, if necessary, also to purify and improve it. It is no different in theology. Faith remains with the facts, theology seeks to penetrate to the idea. Faith has enough with the that, theology asks after the why and the how. Faith is always personal, it always places the object in relation to the human being himself, it has a direct interest in the religious content of the dogmata; theology in a certain sense makes the object gegenständlich, it attempts to view the truth as it objectively exists in itself, it traces its unity and its inner connection, and seeks to arrive at a system. Faith is directed to the central object, theology extends the investigation to the whole circumference of the circle. But however different, they cannot do without one another. Faith preserves theology from secularization, theology preserves faith from separatism. Therefore church and school (seminary, theol. faculty) are indeed two, but nevertheless ought to stand in close connection. Nor is anything thereby detracted from the freedom and independence of theology. Every faculty practises science not only for its own sake, but also trains men for various positions in society. Every science in fact has to reckon with the demands of life. And thus theology too stands not high above, but in the midst of real life, in the life of the congregation. The disproportion which now almost everywhere exists between church and theology is a disaster for both.

7. If theology thus has its principium internum not in faith as such but in believing thought, the task of reason in theological science must be defined more precisely. In that case, first of all, in principle that conception must be rejected which sees in faith and reason two independent powers that struggle with one another to the death. In that way one creates an antithesis which does not belong on Christian ground. Faith is then always supra or even contra rationem. On the one side rationalism threatens and on the other side supranaturalism. Faith, the fides qua creditur, is not an organ or faculty alongside and above reason, but a disposition, a habit of reason itself. Reason, or if one prefers, thought, is certainly no source of theology, no principium quo seu per quod aut ex quo seu cur credamus, Voetius, Disp. I p. 3; reason is a source for no science at all or at most only for the formal sciences, logika and mathesis. But reason is nevertheless subjectum fidei recipiens, fidei capax; faith is an act of consciousness, of human consciousness; an animal is not capable of believing. And furthermore faith is no compulsion, but a free act of man. The Christian does not believe by command, out of fear, by violence. Believing has become the natural habitus of his understanding. Naturally not in that sense as if there were not time and again much in his soul that resists that believing. But yet indeed so, that he, although often doing what he does not will, nevertheless has a delight in the law of God according to the inner man. Believing is the natural breath of the child of God. His submission to the word of God is not slavery but freedom. Faith is in this sense no sacrificium intellectus but sanitas mentis. Faith therefore does not release the Christian from investigation and reflection; rather it incites him thereto. Nature is not destroyed by regeneration but restored.

Therefore, beforehand the believer who wishes to devote himself to theology has to prepare his thinking for the task that awaits him. There is no entrance into the temple of theology except through the facultas artium. A philosophical, historical, and linguistic propaedeutic is indispensable for the practitioner of theological science. Philosophy, said Clemens Alexandrinus, προκατασκευαζει την ὁδον τῃ βασιλικωτατῃ διδασκαλιᾳ. Emperor Julian knew what he was doing when he took pagan science away from the Christians; he feared being defeated with his own weapons [527]. This thinking, thus prepared and exercised, then has in theology in the main a threefold task. First of all it renders its service in the discovery of the material. Scripture is the principle of theology. But that Scripture is no lawbook; it is an organic whole. The material for theology, specifically for dogmatics, lies scattered throughout the whole of Scripture. As gold from the mine, so the truth of faith must be dug out of Scripture with the exertion of all spiritual power. With a few loca probantia nothing is accomplished. Not on a few loose texts but on Scripture in its entirety must the dogma be built; it must arise organically from the principia, which are present for it everywhere in Scripture. The doctrine of God, of man, of sin, of Christ, etc. is, after all, not to be found only in a few statements, but is spread through the whole of Scripture and is contained not only in some proof-texts but also in all kinds of images and parables, ceremonies and histories. No part of Scripture may be neglected. The whole Scripture proves the whole system, Hofmann, Der Schriftbeweis, 2e Aufl. I S. 1-32. Also in theology separatism must be avoided. It is a characteristic of many sects that they proceed from a small portion of Scripture and otherwise neglect it entirely. The worst and most widespread is the rejection or neglect of the Old Testament. Marcionitism has repeatedly returned in the Christian church and also plays a great role in more recent theology, cf. Diestel, Gesch. des Alten Test. in der christl. Kirche, Jena 1869. H. Schmidt, Der Marcionitismus in der neueren Theologie, Neue Jahrb. f. deutsche Theol. 1893, and later in the doctrine of the covenants. All this arbitrary use of Holy Scripture leads to one-sidedness and error in theology and to sickness in religious life. The full rich image of the truth then does not come to light. The person and the work of the Father or of the Son or of the Holy Spirit are misunderstood. Christ is done injustice in his prophetic, or in his priestly, or in his kingly office. The Christian religion forfeits its catholic character. Head, heart, and hand of the Christian are not harmoniously formed and guided by the truth. Only the full, whole Scripture preserves from all these one-sidednesses. But therefore thinking also has, in this investigation of the theological material, an important task.

Next, the theologian also has to work over this material thus obtained by thinking. The dogmata do not stand totidem verbis, κατα ρητον but κατα διανοιαν in Scripture; they are conclusiones fidei. The doctrine of the Trinity, of the two natures of Christ, of satisfaction, of the sacraments, etc. is not based on one single statement of Scripture, but is built up from many data that lie scattered throughout the whole of Scripture. Dogmata are the brief summary in our language of all that Scripture teaches about the respective subjects. The Roman Catholic and Protestant theologians have therefore, over against all kinds of directions that wanted to remain standing with the literal expressions of Scripture, defended the right of dogmatic terminology. They did that, not because they wanted to be less, but because they wanted to be more and better scriptural than these. Then precisely, in their thought, Scripture came to its full honor, when not one single text was literally cited but when the whole truth, contained in many texts, was summarized and set forth in the dogma. Theology is therefore not only a noëtic, but also a dianoëtic, not an apprehensive but a discursive science. It reflects, compares, judges, summarizes, derives other truths from those obtained, etc. Jesus and the apostles also did so, Mt. 22:32, 44 v.; Joh. 10:34 v.; Hd. 15:9 v., 18:28; 1 Cor. 15, etc.; and church fathers, scholastics, Roman Catholic and Protestant theologians have followed that example. God has not called us to repeat literally but to think through what He in his revelation has thought out for us. And finally thinking in theology still has the task of summarizing all truth into one system. A system is the highest thing that can be desired in science. Theology too does not rest until it has discovered the unity that lies hidden in revelation. It may not impose that system from without, and press the truth into a philosophical system that is foreign to its essence. But it nevertheless seeks as long as, until in human consciousness the system is reflected that is present in the object itself. In all this theology proceeds just like other sciences. It works in the same way. Like these it is bound to its object. In thinking it is subject [529] to the laws that apply for that thinking; it too cannot sin against logic with impunity, Alsted, Praecognita 186. The highest for it too is the unity of truth, the system of the knowledge of God. However much theology may differ from the other sciences, in principle, object, and goal; formally it agrees with them and may rightly lay claim to the name of science. And because revelation does not conflict with human reason per se, but only per accidens corruptionis et pravae dispositionis, therefore theology can even in a certain sense be called naturalis and rationalis, Voetius, Disp. I 3. The Christian religion is a λογικη λατρεια, Rom. 12:1. The literature on the use of reason and of philosophy in theology is astonishingly rich. See for the church fathers Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit IV 143 f. Denzinger, Vier Bücher usw. II 574 f., and further Voetius, Disp. Sel. I p. 1-11. Turretinus, Theol. El. loc. 1 qu. 8-13. Witsius, Misc. Sacra II 584 sq. and further literature in M. Vitringa’s edition of C. Vitringa, Doctrina christ. relig. I p. 32-34.

8. But even if knowledge in theology is attainable, it does not bring it to understanding. Between knowing, being acquainted with, and understanding there is a great distinction. These words are indeed often used interchangeably; but there is nevertheless a clearly demonstrable difference. Knowing concerns existence, the that; being acquainted with the quality, the what; understanding the inner possibility, the how of a thing. We understand very little, actually only that which is wholly in our power, which we can make and break. I understand a machine, when I see how it is put together and how it works, when nothing wondrous remains in it. Understanding excludes wonder and admiration. I understand or think I understand what, as people say, speaks for itself and is perfectly natural. Often understanding ceases, in proportion as one investigates more deeply. What spoke for itself turns out to be wholly unusual and wondrous. The further a science penetrates into its object, to that extent it approaches the mystery. Even if it encountered no other on its path, it would nevertheless in the end always run up against the mystery of being. Where, however, understanding ceases, there nevertheless still remains room for being acquainted with and admiring. So it is also in theology. In revelation the μυστηριον εὐσεβειας [530] has been disclosed to us, the mystery of God's grace. We see it, it confronts us as a reality in history and in one's own life; but we do not fathom it. In this sense Christian theology has always to do with mysteries, which it can indeed know and admire but cannot understand and fathom.

Often, however, the mystery in Christian theology has been understood in a wholly different sense. The word μυστηριον, from μυστης, μυω, to close, to shut, of eyes, lips, wounds; is in ordinary Greek the name for the religious-political secret doctrine which in some societies of Eleusis, Samothrace etc. was communicated only to the initiated and was kept hidden from all others, Foucart, des associations religieuses chez les Grecs, Paris 1873. Edwin Hatch, Griechentum u. Christenthum, deutsch v. Preuschen 1892 S. 210 f. Gustav Anrich, Das antike Mysteriënwesen in seinem Einfluss auf das Christ. Göttingen 1894. In the N. Test. the word always has religious significance and denotes a matter of the kingdom of God, which either on account of the obscure, enigmatic form in which it is presented, Mt. 13:11; Mk. 4:11; Luk. 8:10; Op. 1:20, 17:5, 7, or also on account of its content is hidden. Especially it is so called of the universal decree of counsel of God concerning redemption in Christ, also encompassing the Gentiles, Rom. 16:25; Ef. 1:9, 3:3, 6:19; Col. 1:26, 27, 2:2, 4:3, as well as the manner in which this is carried out, Rom. 11:25; 1 Cor. 15:51; 2 Thess. 2 vs. 7; Op. 10:7. But this mysterium is then so called, not because it is still hidden now, but because it was formerly unknown. Now it has precisely been made manifest through the gospel of Christ; it is proclaimed by the apostles as οἰκονομοι μυστηριων θεου, Rom. 16:25, 26; Col. 1:26; 1 Cor. 2:14; Mt. 13:11; 1 Cor. 4:1; and it also henceforth comes more and more to light in history, 1 Cor. 15:51, 52; 2 Thess. 2:7. The N. T. μυστηριον thus does not denote a truth of faith that is not understood and incomprehensible to the thinking intellect, but a matter that was first hidden with God, then has been made known in the gospel and now is understood by believers, Cremer, Wörterbuch der neutest. Gräcität s. v. But ecclesiastical usage soon understood by it a matter that was incomprehensible and also far surpassed the understanding of the believer [531], such as the incarnation, the unio mystica, the sacraments etc., and later all articuli puri, which could not be proved by reason, Suicerus, Thes. Eccles. s. v. Even thus there still remained a great difference between pagan and Christian usage. For there it denoted a secret doctrine that had to be kept hidden from the uninitiated; but in the Christian church there has never existed a proper disciplina arcana, even though a certain order was observed in the communication of the truth. Zezschwitz, art. Arkandisciplin in Herzog2. Hatch, Griechenthum u. Christ. 217 f. Kattenbusch, Vergleichende Konfessionskunde I 393 f. Suicerus, Thes. Eccl. s. v. δογμα. But nevertheless the dogmata were uncomprehended and incomprehensible truths of faith, indeed not contra but yet highly supra rationem, Thomas, S. Theol. I qu. 32. art. I S. c. Gent. I c. 3 IV c. 1. Bellarminus, de Christo I 3. II 6. Heinrich II 772 f. Denzinger, Vier Bücher v. d. rel. Erk. II 80-150. Kleutgen, Theol. der Vorzeit V 164 f. In the condemnation of Erigena, Raimundus Lullus, Hermes, Günther, Frohschammer Rome expressed its disapproval of every attempt to prove the mysteries of faith from reason. And the Conc. Vatic. declared: divina mysteria suapte natura intellectum creatum sic excedunt, ut etiam revelatione tradita et fide suscepta, ipsius tamen fidei velamine contecta et quadam quasi caligine obvoluta maneant, quamdiu in hac mortali vita peregrinamur a Domino; per fidem enim ambulamus, et non per speciem, sess. 3 cap. 4. The Reformation did indeed acknowledge the supranatural character of revelation but nevertheless in fact introduced a great change. With Rome the mysteries are in the first place incomprehensible for the reason that they belong to another, higher, supernatural order, which far surpasses the understanding of man as such. It must therefore place all emphasis on the incomprehensibility of the mysteries and protect and maintain these. The incomprehensible seems in itself to be a proof of the truth. Credibile est, quia ineptum est.... Certum, quia impossibile, Tertull. de carne Chr. 5. But the Reformation replaced this opposition of natural and supernatural order with that of sin and grace. It sought the essence of the mystery not in the fact that it was incomprehensible to man in itself, but to the understanding of the psychical man, [532] Calv. Inst. II, 2, 20. Voetius, Disp. I 3. Without doubt this view is much more in agreement with N. Testament usage. Nowhere does the abstract-supernatural and the scientifically-incomprehensible of the mystery stand in the foreground there. But while it is a foolishness in the eyes of the natural man, however wise he may be; it is revealed to believers, who see in it divine wisdom and grace, Mt. 11:25, 13:11, 16:17; Rom. 11:33; 1 Cor. 1:30. Naturally Scripture does not thereby intend to make known that the believer understands and comprehends those mysteries in a scientific sense. For we walk by faith, know in part and see through a mirror in a dark saying, Rom. 11:34; 1 Cor. 13:12; 2 Cor. 5:7. But the believer nevertheless knows those mysteries; they are no longer foolishness and offence to him; he admires God’s wisdom and love in them. Therefore it does not occur to him that they go beyond his reason, that they are supra rationem; he does not feel them as a burdensome load but as a liberation for his thinking. His faith passes over into admiration, his knowledge ends in adoration, and his confession issues in a song of praise and thanksgiving. Of that nature is also the knowledge of God which is aimed at in theology. It is not knowing alone and much less a comprehending; but it is better and more glorious, it is a knowledge which is life, eternal life, Joh. 17:3. Cf. concerning the μυστηρια, besides the literature already mentioned, also Bretschneider, Syst. Entw. aller in der Dogm. vork. Begriffe I 168. J. Boeles, de mysteriis in relig. christ. 1843. Scholten, L. H. K. I 223. Oosterzee, Dogm. I 168. Philippi Comm. op Rom. 11:25. Gretillat, Exposé de théol. syst. I 182 s. II 183.

Prefácio

Em breve palavra se pode pôr à luz o ponto de vista desta dogmática. Não só o crente, também o dogmático tem confissão a fazer da comunhão dos santos. Somente com todos os santos pode ele compreender qual seja a largura, o comprimento, a profundidade e a altura, e confessar o amor de Cristo, que excede todo conhecimento. Somente na comunhão deles e por ela aprende a entender o dogma em que a fé cristã se exprime. E nessa comunhão dos santos há ainda uma força que fortalece e uma consolação excelente. A dogmática não está hoje em honra; o dogma cristão não participa do favor do tempo. Daí, na palavra de Groen van Prinsterer, por vezes um sentimento de abandono, de isolamento. Mas tanto mais isso dispõe à gratidão de poder apelar para a aliança dos antepassados. Por essas razões deu-se aqui à teologia patrística e escolástica mais atenção do que costumam dar os dogmáticos protestantes. Homens como Irineu, Agostinho e Tomás não pertencem exclusivamente a Roma: são patres e doctores a quem toda a igreja cristã tem obrigações. Tampouco se esqueceu a teologia romana posterior à Reforma. Entre os protestantes há muitas vezes pouca familiaridade tanto com o que têm em comum com Roma quanto com o que deles a separa; e o renascimento da teologia romana sob os auspícios de Tomás torna duplamente necessário que o cristão protestante dê a si mesmo conta clara e bem consciente de sua relação com Roma.

Contudo, esta dogmática filia-se mais de perto ao tipo que a religião e a teologia cristãs receberam no século XVI pela Reforma, e especialmente na Suíça. Não porque seja o único verdadeiro, mas porque, na convicção do autor, é a expressão relativamente mais pura da verdade. Em nenhuma confissão o elemento cristão, em seu caráter religioso, ético e teológico, veio tanto a si mesmo; em nenhuma foi concebido tão profunda e amplamente, tão espaçosa e livremente, tão verdadeiramente católico, como na das igrejas reformadas. Tanto mais é de lamentar que essa reforma da religião e da teologia, como a da igreja e da ciência, tenha sido tão cedo detida. Apesar de muito bem que o desenvolvimento posterior mostra, não só neste país, mas também na Inglaterra, na Escócia e na América, cedo se instalou a estagnação e seguiu-se a deformação. Apelando de preferência para a geração mais antiga, que em frescor e originalidade supera de longe a posterior, o autor tem por direito do dogmático distinguir, na história da teologia reformada, entre o trigo e a palha. Louvar o antigo só por ser antigo não é reformado nem cristão. E a dogmática não descreve o que valeu, mas o que deve valer: está enraizada no passado, mas trabalha para o futuro.

Por isso, enfim, esta dogmática quer também trazer o cunho de seu tempo. Seria obra jamais começada desprender-se do presente; e tampouco seria bom para com Deus, que nesta era nos fala não menos alto e sério do que às gerações anteriores. Atendeu-se às múltiplas direções que se cruzam no campo teológico; em meio a todas, buscou-se um lugar e escolheu-se uma posição. Onde desviar era dever, disso se prestou contas; mas mesmo então se procurou dar valor ao bom, onde ele se encontrasse. Muitas vezes o estudo continuado fez descobrir afinidade onde a princípio parecia não haver nenhuma.

Sobre esse fundamento, esta dogmática quer ser um manual para os que se dedicam ao seu estudo. Mesmo onde não puder obter assentimento, que estimule ao estudo. Com essa vista, as questões e as diferentes soluções tentadas foram apresentadas tão objetivamente quanto possível, e a literatura foi indicada na medida em que permita a quem a consulte orientar-se logo e cooperar na solução.

Esta primeira parte trata da introdução e dos principia; a segunda tratará do dogma, provavelmente em dois volumes, que em caso algum excederão em extensão a este primeiro, e seguirão logo que for praticável. Um índice detalhado concluirá a obra.

H. Bavinck

Kampen, abril de 1895.

§ 1. Nome e conceito da dogmática

1. O nome dogmática é ainda de data recente; antes usavam-se nomes bem diversos. Orígenes intitulou sua obra dogmática principal Sobre os princípios; Agostinho descreveu seu Enquirídio a Lourenço pelo acréscimo "ou sobre a fé, a esperança e a caridade"; João Damasceno deu uma "exposição exata da fé ortodoxa". Com Isidoro de Sevilha surge o nome Sententiæ, que no século XIII cede lugar a Summa theologiæ. Melanchthon falou de Loci communes rerum theologicarum, sive hypotyposes theologiæ.

A expressão loci é tomada de Cícero e traduz o grego topos. Aristóteles entendia por topoi as regras gerais da dialética, conhecidas por si mesmas e fixas, que por isso podiam servir de "elementos das demonstrações". Cícero transferiu essa doutrina da dialética para a retórica e entendeu por ela os lugares onde o orador podia achar os argumentos de que precisava, explicando a expressão por sedes, notæ argumentorum, e apontando como tais fontes o conceito, a definição, a divisão, o sentido primeiro da palavra, os sinônimos. Esse uso não corresponde inteiramente ao sentido aristotélico, e na lógica posterior foi ainda mais modificado. O próprio Melanchthon explica loci como "certos sinais pelos quais se indicam os capítulos das coisas que devem ser ditas e tratadas". Loci communes são, segundo Cícero, aquelas proposições que não se referem a nenhum objeto determinado, são gerais e por isso valem sempre e em toda parte, à diferença dos loci proprii, que são concretos e só valem de um sujeito determinado ou dentro de uma ciência especial. Melanchthon quis dar em seus loci communes apenas os capítulos principais da religião cristã, tais como Paulo sobretudo os tratara na epístola aos Romanos; por isso os descreve como hypotyposes, esboço, delineamento da teologia, e a tradução alemã de Spalatino verteu o título por "artigos capitais e pontos principais de toda a Sagrada Escritura". Nome e conteúdo da dogmática de Melanchthon estão, pois, em contraste com as Sententiae e Summae escolásticas: ela não pretendia dar aos instruídos um sistema dogmático completo, mas introduzir os não instruídos no conhecimento da Sagrada Escritura.

Explica-se daí que o nome loci communes não encontrasse aceitação entre os teólogos romanos. Usam eles a expressão loci, mas no sentido de Cícero ou de Aristóteles: não os articuli fidei, e sim os principia ou fontes da teologia. Assim a célebre obra de Melchior Cano, Loci Theologici, não trata da dogmática mesma, mas de suas dez fontes: Escritura, tradição, papa, concílios, igreja, pais da igreja, escolásticos, razão, filosofia e história. Em contraste, o nome de Melanchthon foi adotado por muitos teólogos luteranos e reformados. Mas cedo teve de ceder a outro título: Zwínglio publicou escritos dogmáticos sob o nome de Commentarius de vera ac falsa religione; Calvino preferiu o de Institutio religionis Christianae; e teólogos posteriores voltaram ao antigo nome de theologia. Em distinção das demais disciplinas teológicas, que aos poucos cresciam em número e em peso, esse nome teve de ser especificado: serviram para isso os acréscimos didactica, systematica, theoretica, positiva, e, desde a Synopsis theologiae dogmaticae de L. Reinhart (1659), também o de dogmatica. Tal especificação estava à mão, porque as verdades da fé havia muito eram designadas pelo nome de dogmata, e porque a separação entre dogmática e ética, iniciada com Danaeus e Calixto, exigia um nome próprio para cada disciplina. Desde então esse acréscimo obteve tamanho domínio que baniu o conceito principal de teologia e apareceu por si só, encontrou assentimento entre teólogos de toda confissão e não pôde ser deslocado pelos nomes mais novos de doutrina da fé, doutrina da salvação, doutrina cristã.

2. A palavra dogma, de dokein, parecer, denota aquilo que é determinado, decidido e por isso está firme: o que foi estabelecido, statutum, decretum, placitum. Na Escritura é usada dos mandatos do governo, das ordenanças da antiga aliança e das decisões da assembleia de Jerusalém. Entre os clássicos tem o sentido de decisão ou ordem, e na filosofia o de verdades que estão firmes por si mesmas ou por provas. Nesses mesmos sentidos a palavra foi assumida pela teologia: os pais da igreja falam da religião ou doutrina cristã como "o dogma divino", da encarnação de Cristo como "dogma da teologia", das verdades que na igreja e para a igreja valem como "os dogmas da igreja", e igualmente dos ensinos dos heréticos como "dogmas dos heterodoxos". O mesmo sentido conserva a palavra entre os latinos e entre os teólogos protestantes.

3. O uso da palavra ensina, em primeiro lugar, que com o nome de dogma se podem designar toda sorte de mandatos, decisões, verdades filosóficas, proposições teóricas, regras práticas; mas o que todos têm em comum é que na base deles sempre está uma certa autoridade. Um dogma é, na definição de Harnack, uma proposição que tem autoridade. Na palavra dogma, porém, não está dito em que autoridade ela repousa; com dogmas diversos, diversa é também a autoridade: nos dogmas políticos, o governo; nos filosóficos, a evidência interna ou a força das provas; nos religiosos ou teológicos, ela está unicamente no testemunho de Deus — ouvido, segundo os protestantes, só na Escritura, e, segundo os católicos romanos, também na igreja. Uma proposição tem autoridade na igreja e na teologia só por isto: porque repousa no testemunho de Deus. Por isso, erradamente, com Schleiermacher e depois dele, busca-se a essência e o caráter do dogma na fixação e proclamação eclesiásticas. Do ponto de vista romano ainda haveria algo a dizer em favor disso, porque a igreja é infalível; mas a Reforma não reconhece verdade alguma senão pela autoridade de Deus na Sagrada Escritura: a Palavra de Deus estabelece os artigos de fé, e ninguém mais, nem mesmo um anjo. Dogmas e articuli fidei são somente aquelas verdades que nas Escrituras são propostas propriamente como devendo ser cridas, somente aquelas sentenças que é necessário crer ou obedecer por mandamento de Deus. E por isso volta repetidamente entre os teólogos reformados a proposição: o princípio em que se resolvem todos os dogmas teológicos é Dominus dixit, o Senhor disse.

Mas do caráter de autoridade que é próprio ao dogma segue-se por si, em segundo lugar, que ele é também reconhecido como tal em certo círculo. Há sem dúvida no conceito de dogma um elemento social. Por mais firme que uma verdade esteja, se não é reconhecida, aos olhos dos outros não é mais que uma sententia doctoris, uma opinião privada. O conceito de dogma inclui que a autoridade que ele possui saiba também fazer-se reconhecer e manter. Cumpre por isso distinguir entre o dogma quoad se e o dogma quoad nos. Uma proposição é dogma em si mesma, abstraída de todo reconhecimento, se repousa na autoridade de Deus; mas, para não identificar a própria opinião com a verdade de Deus, é da máxima importância para todo crente, e em especial para o dogmático, saber quais verdades da Escritura foram, sob a direção do Espírito Santo, levadas na igreja de Cristo ao reconhecimento geral. A confissão pode assim chamar-se o dogma quoad nos. Também nesse sentido subjetivo, porém, o dogma não se limita de modo algum ao que está expressamente contido nos símbolos e eclesiasticamente fixado. A igreja tem uma vida e uma fé muito mais ricas do que as que vêm à expressão na confissão; esta de modo nenhum formula todo o conteúdo da fé cristã, não pertence à essência da igreja, é acidental, quase sempre nasceu de circunstâncias especiais e em regra recolhe apenas o que encontrou oposição dentro ou fora dela. Assim como a lenha não arde porque fumega, ainda que o fumo seja sinal de que arde, também uma proposição não é dogma porque a igreja a reconhece, ainda que o reconhecimento da igreja seja prova importante — mas sempre falível — de sua verdade.

Em terceiro lugar, o uso da palavra ensina que ela foi tomada ora em sentido mais amplo, ora mais estrito. Às vezes designa-se por ela toda a religião cristã, e Basílio Magno pode entender por dogmata — em contraste com os kerygmata, os artigos de fé tirados da Escritura — as cerimônias e ritos eclesiásticos. Polano diz que dogma, em sentido amplo, abrange tudo o que a Sagrada Escritura contém, não só a doctrina evangelii et legis, mas também as pregações e as histórias sagradas. Comumente, porém, a palavra era usada em sentido mais estrito, da doctrina evangelii et legis, daquelas sentenças que é necessário crer ou obedecer por mandamento de Deus; incluía, pois, não só a verdade doutrinal, mas também a ética. Mais tarde foi delimitada ainda mais estreitamente, distinguindo-se e separando-se a doctrina legis da doctrina evangelii: dogmas eram agora só aquelas sentenças que é necessário crer por mandamento de Deus. Polano foi ainda mais longe e distinguiu também entre os dogmata e os principia theologiae. Assim dogma tornou-se a designação dos articuli fidei, que repousam na autoridade da Palavra de Deus e por isso obrigam a todos à fé. E a dogmática é então o sistema dos articuli fidei.

4. Com isso, contudo, o conceito de dogmática só foi estabelecido em sentido formal. A definição da dogmática como ciência dos dogmas é de pouca serventia enquanto não soubermos o material, o conteúdo dos dogmas. Para determinar o conceito material da dogmática, é preciso lembrar que dogmática foi originalmente um adjetivo que qualificava o conceito principal, teologia. Por isso, em tempos anteriores, concebia-se comumente a dogmática como doctrina de Deo principaliter et de creaturis, secundum quod referuntur ad Deum ut ad principium vel finem — doutrina de Deus principalmente, e das criaturas enquanto se referem a Deus como a seu princípio ou fim.

Outros, porém, tinham objeções a fazer de Deus o conceito principal da dogmática e preferiram chamar de outro modo o seu objeto. Lombardo, seguindo Agostinho — "toda doutrina é ou das coisas ou dos sinais" —, atribuiu à teologia duas matérias: as res, isto é, Deus, o mundo e o homem, e os signa, isto é, os sacramentos; determinação incompleta, logo abandonada e corrigida pelos comentadores. Alexandre de Hales e Boaventura nomearam Cristo e seu corpo místico, a igreja; Hugo de São Vítor, as opera reparationis, como matéria e conteúdo da teologia. Também teólogos luteranos e reformados definiram assim o conteúdo da dogmática. Calovius contesta com toda força que Deus seja o objeto próprio da teologia: a etimologia nada decide aqui; a teologia na terra é coisa bem diversa da que é no céu; aqui aspiramos ao conhecimento de Deus, mas não o alcançamos; fazer de Deus o objeto da teologia é tão errado quanto fazer do príncipe, e não da república, o objeto da política. O objeto próprio da teologia é o homo in quantum est perducendus ad salutem, o homem enquanto deve ser conduzido à salvação, ou então a religião. E assim também outros fazem conteúdo da dogmática o Deo vivere per Christum, a religio, o cultus Dei.

A concepção subjetiva e prática da teologia foi assim ganhando terreno. E quando a filosofia de Kant limitou a capacidade humana de conhecer às coisas visíveis, quando o agnosticismo pronunciou a incognoscibilidade de Deus e a crítica histórica minou a revelação sobrenatural, essa concepção subjetiva e prática tornou-se a dominante. Schleiermacher concebeu a dogmática como doutrina da fé e definiu os dogmas como apreensões de estados piedosos do ânimo. Desde então quase todos os teólogos fizeram a mesma passagem: não Deus, mas a religião é o objeto da teologia — a religião em geral, como fenômeno histórico e psicológico, ou mais precisamente a religião cristã, tal como vem à manifestação na Escritura e na comunidade. À dogmática dá-se então por conteúdo a religio ou doctrina christiana, seja tirada da Sagrada Escritura, seja confessada por uma ou outra igreja, seja conhecida pela experiência pessoal.

5. Já em seu tempo Tomás observava, contra os que davam outra descrição da teologia, que chegavam a isso por atentarem para as coisas que nessa ciência são tratadas e não para a razão sob a qual são consideradas. Na teologia, e portanto também na dogmática, trata-se de muito mais que apenas Deus: também do anjo e do homem, do céu e da terra; todas as criaturas entram aí em discussão. Mas a questão é sob que ponto de vista e com que fim são tratadas. Pois todas essas coisas são tratadas também em outras ciências; o caráter distintivo de seu tratamento na teologia consiste em serem consideradas em sua relação com Deus, ut ad principium et finem.

Também a definição da dogmática como ciência da religio christiana não seria em si tão errada, se por ela se entendesse, como em tempo anterior, aquela religião objetivamente depositada na Escritura. Mas depois de Kant e Schleiermacher essa definição adquiriu outro sentido, e a dogmática tornou-se a descrição daquele fenômeno histórico que se chama religião cristã e que se revela também numa fé e numa doutrina próprias. Entendida nesse sentido, ela deixa de ser dogmática e passa a ser simplesmente descrição do que em certo círculo se tem por verdade no domínio religioso. Ora, a ciência tem que ver com a verdade; se a dogmática quer realmente ser ciência, não se contenta com a descrição do que é, mas deve indicar o que há de valer como verdade. Não o que, mas o porquê; não a realidade, mas a verdade; não o real, mas o ideal, o lógico, o necessário é o que lhe cumpre demonstrar. Mas, tão logo o tenta, ela volta no mesmo instante a Deus e torna-se de novo teologia no sentido próprio. Pois quem faz do cristianismo o objeto de uma ciência própria não parte do fato da existência desse cristianismo — bastaria então tratar desse fenômeno histórico na faculdade de letras —, mas de uma valoração especial desse fato. A teologia como ciência de faculdade à parte pressupõe que naqueles fatos históricos do cristianismo Deus se revelou de modo especial; pressupõe e exige, portanto, a existência e a revelação de Deus. Isto é: a teologia exige, para ser e continuar teologia, que tudo nela seja considerado sub ratione Dei. E se contra isso se alega a incognoscibilidade de Deus, vale a regra: quem prova demais nada prova. Se Deus não é cognoscível, com isso não caem apenas a dogmática e a teologia, mas também a religião, pois esta é edificada sobre o conhecimento de Deus.

A dogmática é, pois, o sistema científico do conhecimento de Deus, isto é, daquele conhecimento que Ele, acerca de si mesmo e acerca de toda a criatura enquanto em relação a Ele, revelou em sua Palavra à igreja.

§ 2. Lugar enciclopédico da dogmática

1. Sobre o lugar da dogmática na enciclopédia da teologia quase não há divergência. Todos a atribuem à teologia sistemática ou dogmática, isto é, àquele grupo de disciplinas que se ocupam do dogma e ao qual pertencem, além da dogmática, também a ética, a simbólica, a história dos dogmas e a elêntica. Só Schleiermacher a incluiu na teologia histórica, por ser ela a ciência da conexão da doutrina que vigora na igreja em dado tempo, dando assim uma estatística do presente. Chegou a essa opinião singular porque desejava separar a dogmática o mais estritamente possível da apologética: enquanto esta, como parte da teologia filosófica, tem de mostrar o que é a verdade cristã, aquela tem apenas de descrever o que vale como verdade nesta ou naquela igreja cristã. Com isso, porém, Schleiermacher absolutamente não pretendia atribuir à dogmática um caráter meramente noticioso; ele lhe assinala também uma tarefa crítica e exige que seja sistemática, que dê a própria convicção e que descreva não o que valeu, mas o que vale — e assim já ultrapassa a descrição puramente histórica.

A comunidade cristã não pode contentar-se com um relatório objetivo do conteúdo de sua fé, mas exige que essa fé seja também desdobrada e exposta como verdade. Tampouco o dogmático se coloca neutro fora e diante da fé da comunidade, como diante da doutrina religiosa de maometanos e budistas: ele pertence a essa comunidade e descreve, portanto, o que para ele vale e deve valer como verdade. E há uma diferença essencial entre obras como a de Heppe, que dão uma descrição objetiva da doutrina luterana e reformada, e a dogmática, que quer demonstrar e apresentar a verdade das convicções religiosas. Se Schleiermacher, ao chamar a dogmática de disciplina histórica, não quis dizer outra coisa senão que ela é uma ciência tética, positiva, que não busca o seu objeto, mas o encontra e o descreve, então sua intenção é de apreciar, mas a designação é incorreta. Se, porém, alimentava a opinião de que a dogmática tinha somente de descrever um dado histórico e não erguia pretensão alguma à verdade normativa, então sua concepção foi com toda a certeza incorreta e hoje é também geralmente rejeitada.

2. Pertencendo assim a dogmática às disciplinas da teologia dogmática, cumpre distingui-la bem de suas irmãs. Todas as disciplinas desta parte da teologia têm que ver com o dogma, isto é, com a verdade tal como Deus a revelou, mas cada uma a seu modo. Ela pode ser escutada tal como a comunidade a confessa clara e poderosamente em sua confissão, e então surge a theologia symbolica. Pode ser apresentada em forma simples e compreensível, como leite (1 Pe 2,2) aos membros jovens, os filhos da comunidade, e então fala a theologia catechetica — bem distinta da catequética, que é a arte de fazê-lo. Pode ser mantida em sua verdade e em seu direito contra os adversários, e então cumpre sua tarefa a theologia elenctica. E pode ser exposta tética e positivamente, mas em forma científica e sistemática, para a consciência desenvolvida, e então se pratica a dogmática. Todas têm em comum que expõem os thesauri Sacrae Scripturae, cada uma a seu modo; a dogmática o faz, como se dizia outrora, de maneira escolástica, ao modo das escolas, isto é, como deve suceder nas escolas da ciência.

Naturalmente muita coisa depende aqui do ponto de vista que o dogmático assume. Se ele, com os pietistas e os theologi biblici, supõe uma antítese aguda entre a doutrina da Escritura e a da igreja, aterá-se o mais estreitamente possível à Escritura, também nas palavras e expressões, e elaborará o mínimo possível pelo pensamento o material achado. Se vê na confissão da igreja, na historia dogmatum, não uma corrupção, mas um desenvolvimento da verdade escriturística, sua dogmática terá coloração eclesiástica e confessional. E se se põe racionalisticamente diante tanto da Escritura como da igreja, as convicções de fé que apresenta trarão sobretudo caráter negativo. Tudo isso é diferença de método e será tratado adiante.

Mas precisamente por isso não é bom distinguir, com Doedes, uma tríplice dogmática — a neotestamentária ou cristã, a eclesiástica e a crítica. Com isso concede-se igual categoria e igual direito de existência às três, a confusão ainda aumenta, a dogmática neotestamentária vem a colocar-se como a cristã por excelência diante das outras duas, as duas primeiras espécies podem proceder inteiramente fora da própria convicção, e só a dogmática crítica se torna a da concepção própria e independente. A tarefa da dogmática é antes sempre uma e a mesma. Ela é, e por sua natureza não pode ser outra coisa senão, uma exposição científica da verdade religiosa, uma enarratio verbi Dei, uma exibição dos thesauri Sacrae Scripturae, uma entrega ao modelo de doutrina (Rm 6,17), de sorte que temos nela uma forma e uma imago da doctrina coelestis. A dogmática, portanto, não é ela mesma a Palavra de Deus; é sempre apenas uma imagem esmaecida e uma semelhança fraca dela; é uma tentativa humana e falível de pensar e dizer depois, ao modo próprio e livre, aquilo que Deus outrora, muitas vezes e de muitos modos, falou pelos profetas e nestes últimos dias nos falou pelo Filho. Como pode a dogmática cumprir melhor essa sua tarefa é questão de método e deve ser tratada depois à parte.

3. Com a dogmática aparenta-se muito de perto a ética. A palavra dogma abrangia outrora ambas: os articuli fidei e os praecepta decalogi, os dogmata fidei e os dogmata morum. A ética ou era incorporada à dogmática, como em Lombardo, Tomás e Calvino, ou era elaborada em uma segunda parte depois da dogmática, como em Polano e Amésio, ou ainda tratada de modo inteiramente independente, separada da dogmática, como desde Danaeus (1577). A influência de Aristóteles, iniciada já com a philosophia moralis de Melanchthon (1539), reteve o desenvolvimento da ética cristã. E a separação que depois sobreveio teve por consequência que a ética ficou sem princípio próprio, foi buscá-lo a destempo na filosofia, veio a colocar-se, como ética teológica degenerada, hostil diante da dogmática, deslocou-a de seu lugar e por fim apagou de todo as fronteiras entre uma e outra.

Prova disso são as tentativas infrutíferas de distinguir as duas. Schleiermacher deu a ambas por conteúdo a vida cristã, mas a dogmática descreveria essa vida em relativo repouso, e a ética em relativo movimento. Rothe viu a insuficiência dessa distinção e por isso fez da dogmática uma disciplina histórica, que trata dos dogmas da igreja, e da ética uma ciência especulativa, que desenvolve dialeticamente o seu material a partir da consciência de Deus. Outros distinguem as duas como saber e fazer, entendimento e vontade, doutrina da salvação e doutrina da vida, doutrina de Deus e doutrina do homem. Todas essas distinções padecem do defeito de procurar uma diferença de princípio entre dogmática e ética. E não há nenhuma. A ética teológica, bem distinta da ética filosófica, não tem princípio próprio, mas radica-se toda e inteiramente na dogmática. As linhas de separação apontadas criam um dualismo entre Deus e o homem, indivíduo e comunidade, salvação e vida, repouso e movimento, entendimento e vontade, e abrem à ética o caminho de ir buscar um princípio próprio por via filosófica especulativa, como em Rothe, perdendo seu caráter teológico e olhando de sua altura especulativa com desprezo para a dogmática histórica e positiva.

Se dogmática e ética devem ser tratadas separadamente — o que por diversas razões é desejável, embora muitos o desaconselhem —, a distinção entre ambas só pode estar nisto: que o homem, ainda que a todo tempo absolutamente dependente de Deus, é contudo também um ser livre e que age de modo independente. Renascido e renovado pela graça do Espírito Santo, o homem pecador recebe de novo desejo e força para viver segundo os mandamentos de Deus. A dogmática descreve os atos de Deus antes do homem, para com o homem e no homem; a ética descreve os atos que o homem renovado agora pratica com fundamento nesses atos de Deus e na força deles. Na dogmática o homem é passivo, recebe e crê; na ética ele mesmo aparece agindo. Ali tratam-se os articuli fidei, aqui os praecepta decalogi. A dogmática desdobra o que Deus é e faz pelo homem e o faz conhecer a Deus como seu Criador, Redentor e Santificador; a ética expõe o que o homem agora é e faz para Deus, como ele se consagra a Deus inteiramente, com entendimento e vontade e todas as forças, por gratidão e amor. A dogmática é o sistema do conhecimento de Deus; a ética, o do serviço de Deus. As duas ciências não são independentes uma diante da outra, mas formam juntas um só sistema, membros correspondentes de um só organismo.

§ 3. Método da dogmática

1. Por método da dogmática entende-se, em sentido amplo, a maneira como a matéria dogmática é obtida e tratada. Três coisas entram aqui em consideração: a Escritura, a confissão da igreja e a fé pessoal do dogmático. Conforme essas três sejam negligenciadas ou usadas, e conforme a relação em que são postas entre si, diferem o ponto de partida e, portanto, o caminho e o resultado da dogmática. De fato, sempre se passa assim, que todo cristão, e também o dogmático, recebe suas convicções de fé do círculo em que nasceu e foi criado. Pela pregação a igreja é fundada e transplantada de geração em geração: a fé vem pelo ouvir. A tradição, declarada infalível por Roma, tampouco foi de todo rejeitada pela Reforma, e logo depois tornou-se um poder que pôs em grilhões toda liberdade. Recebia-se a matéria dogmática das mãos da igreja e da escola: a matéria própria da teologia — dizem Alsted e Alting — são os loci communes; a matéria remota é a Sagrada Escritura. E depois da reação da chamada theologia biblica, neste século o elemento social na religião, o caráter eclesiástico da dogmática, foi de novo posto em plena luz de vários lados. Quase ninguém nega hoje a determinação confessional da religião e da dogmática; até os teólogos modernos, no tratamento da doutrina da fé, costumam ligar-se ao dogma eclesiástico.

2. Mas a igreja com sua confissão não pode, ainda assim, ser o principium da dogmática. A igreja grega e a romana declararam a tradição infalível, mas em todos os tempos igrejas, seitas e tendências, a quem não se podia negar o caráter cristão, apelaram, contra essa tradição, para a Sagrada Escritura. Na theologia biblica chegou-se mesmo a tentar alcançar, sem o auxílio de igreja e confissão, uma doutrina da fé a partir da Escritura somente. Foi preparada por Erasmo, pelos socinianos e pelos remonstrantes, achou apoio nas muitas seitas que depois surgiram nas igrejas da Reforma e ao lado delas, foi introduzida nas próprias igrejas por Calixto e Coccejo e no século XVIII ganhou terreno cada vez maior; sua intenção declarada era compor a teologia cristã só das palavras da Escritura, purgada de todas as coisas e palavras escolásticas. Ainda neste século essa tendência bíblica é defendida por Beck, por Doedes e também por Ritschl e sua escola, que, da dogmática corrompida pela filosofia grega, retorna à revelação de Deus na pessoa de Cristo.

3. Mas nem por isso está removida a possibilidade de conflito entre a doutrina da Escritura e a convicção pessoal do dogmático. Enquanto a verdade lhe está objetivamente fixada na Escritura ou na doutrina da igreja, parece que não se pode fazer justiça à sua personalidade: a dogmática permanece então exposição da doutrina da Escritura ou da igreja, mas talvez sem assentimento pessoal de quem a expõe. Isso, porém, não é dogmática. Pois esta não consiste num relato histórico, mas expõe o que deve valer como verdade, e assim inclui a convicção pessoal do dogmático. Desde que para muitos caiu inteiramente a autoridade em matéria de religião e a religio subjectiva se fez independente da religio objectiva, a consciência religiosa, a consciência moral, o sentimento, a razão — como quer que se lhe chame — tornou-se fonte e medida das representações religiosas. Toda a teologia, por Schleiermacher e depois dele, tanto entre os ortodoxos quanto entre os modernos, é teologia da consciência. Os modernos podem ainda partir, no tratamento dos dogmas, da formulação eclesiástica, mas ao cabo não dão outra coisa senão sua fé pessoal; e teólogos como Martensen, Dorner e Hofmann tomam seu ponto de partida na consciência do crente. Neste país Van Oosterzee incluiu a consciência cristã entre as fontes da dogmática, e Beets cantou: ser inteiramente objetivo é a exigência, é humano; mas seria isso possível? Não te embales com aparência alguma: os sistemas são pessoais ou desumanos. Desse caráter pessoal da dogmática explica Doedes a confusão sem limites que reina em seu domínio.

4. Já este panorama das três direções dogmáticas torna claro que nenhuma das três pode passar sem as outras: cada uma, tomada por si, é unilateral e cai em erro. A direção crítica, que rejeita confissão e Escritura como fonte de conhecimento e quer derivar do sujeito toda verdade religiosa, está desde logo em conflito com a experiência. Também religiosamente somos produtos do nosso meio: recebemos nossas representações e impressões religiosas de quem nos cria e educa, e permanecemos sempre presos ao círculo em que vivemos. Uma boa psicologia mostra que intelecto e coração, razão e consciência, sentimento e imaginação não podem, em terreno nenhum, valer como fonte de conhecimento da verdade. Assim como estamos fisicamente presos à natureza e dela havemos de receber comida e bebida, abrigo e vestuário, assim também, psiquicamente, na arte, na ciência, na religião e na moral, dependemos do mundo fora de nós. Todo o nosso conhecimento vem de fora; não há ideae innatae. O sentimento, em particular, não pode ser tido por fonte de conhecimento, pois nunca é um prius, e sim sempre um posterius: reage apenas ao que o afeta e dá então uma sensação de agrado ou desagrado. A explicação autônoma do homem religioso e moral anda sempre junta com o deísmo ou com o panteísmo: o deísmo torna o homem independente de Deus e do mundo, ensina a autossuficiência de sua razão e leva ao racionalismo; o panteísmo faz Deus vir à revelação e à autoconsciência no homem e cultiva o misticismo. Ambos destroem a verdade objetiva, entregam razão e sentimento a si mesmos e acabam na incredulidade ou na superstição. A razão critica e elimina toda revelação, e o sentimento dá ao católico romano tanto direito de imaginar Maria como rainha do céu sem pecado quanto dá ao protestante de combater essa crença. É notável, por isso, que a Sagrada Escritura nunca remeta o homem a si mesmo como fonte de conhecimento e medida da verdade religiosa. E como poderia fazê-lo, se descreve o homem psíquico inteira e integralmente — em seu intelecto, em seu coração, em sua vontade e também em sua consciência moral — como obscurecido e corrompido pelo pecado? Para o conhecimento da verdade ela sempre o remete à revelação objetiva, à palavra, ao ensino que procedeu de Deus. E também ali onde a verdade objetiva se torna, pela fé, propriedade nossa, essa fé nunca é como uma fonte que faz brotar de si a água viva, mas como um canal que de outra parte no-la conduz.

5. Roma compreendeu excelentemente essa impossibilidade de uma autonomia religiosa e moral e por isso vinculou o homem, sob pena da salvação de sua alma, à igreja infalível. Esta, e assim, em última instância, o papa infalível, é para o cristão romano o principium de sua fé: o Papa dixit — "o papa disse" — é o fim de toda contradição. Mas a história ensina que essa infalibilidade, teórica ou prática, da igreja encontrou em todos os tempos contradição e oposição, não só em Roma como também nas igrejas da Reforma. E não foram os círculos incrédulos, mas os piedosos, os primeiros a sentir esse poder da hierarquia como um laço que aperta a consciência. Por todos os séculos houve, contra o poder hierárquico da igreja, não apenas uma oposição científica, social e política, mas também íntima, religiosa e moral. Não se pode explicar essa oposição pela incredulidade e pela desobediência, desconhecendo, como de propósito, os motivos religiosos que estavam no fundamento da oposição das várias seitas e direções. Ninguém ousa condenar todas essas seitas por se terem levantado contra a igreja e sua tradição; a própria Roma recua diante dessa conclusão, e o extra ecclesiam nulla salus é uma confissão que ainda à fé mais forte pesa demais. A lei que vemos reinar em todo domínio prossegue, portanto, também na religião e na moral. Há, de um lado, um espírito revolucionário, que quer demolir até o chão tudo o que se tornou histórico, para então começar a construir de novo; mas há também um falso conservadorismo, que se compraz em deixar intocado o existente unicamente porque existe e que, segundo a conhecida palavra de Calvino, não move o mal bem assentado. Em toda parte e em todo domínio é preciso, a seu tempo, certo radicalismo, para restaurar o equilíbrio, deixar seguir o desenvolvimento e não deixar assorear a corrente da vida. Também na religião e na moral forma-se pouco a pouco uma rotina, que abafa e viola os direitos da personalidade, do gênio, da inspiração, da liberdade, da consciência. Mas então surge sempre, a seu tempo, o homem que não suporta essa pressão, que sacode de si o jugo da servidão e que de novo toma a causa da liberdade do homem, da liberdade do cristão. Esses são os pontos de viragem da história. Assim agiu o próprio Cristo contra a tradição dos anciãos e voltou à lei e aos profetas; e assim teve a Reforma a coragem de protestar contra a hierarquia de Roma, não por interesse científico, social ou político, mas em nome do homem cristão. Mesmo entre as seitas e direções que depois surgiram nas igrejas protestantes esse motivo religioso e ético muitas vezes não se pode negar, e a theologia biblica também defende uma parte importante da verdade religiosa. Se igreja e teologia preferem o repouso à luta, elas mesmas despertam a oposição que há de lembrá-las de sua vocação e de sua tarefa cristã. Roma nunca pode aprovar tal oposição e tem de condená-la já de antemão; a Reforma, porém, dela mesma nasceu e não pode negar a outros o que tomou para si. E a Sagrada Escritura, por mais distante que esteja de toda resistência revolucionária, legitimou o direito de contradição contra todo mandamento humano que conflite com a Palavra de Deus, na palavra régia de Pedro: é preciso obedecer antes a Deus do que aos homens.

6. Parece, pois, que só é verdadeiro o método aplicado pelos teólogos bíblicos. Mas também esta direção padece de grande unilateralidade. Imagina estar inteiramente sem prevenção diante da Escritura e reproduzir-lhe o conteúdo pura e objetivamente. Esquece, porém, que todo crente e todo dogmático recebe antes de tudo suas convicções de fé da mão de sua igreja. Nunca vem de fora à Escritura, sem conhecimento e sem opinião prévia; traz já de casa certa concepção do conteúdo da revelação e vê, assim, a Escritura com os óculos que a igreja lhe põe diante dos olhos. Todo dogmático, ao pôr-se a trabalhar, reconheça-o ou não, está naquela manifestação histórica do cristianismo em que nasceu e foi criado, e vem à Escritura como cristão reformado, luterano ou romano; ninguém se desfaz aqui do seu meio, e cada um é filho do seu tempo, produto do seu ambiente. O resultado corresponde a essa expectativa: todos os manuais de dogmática saídos da direção bíblica refletem fielmente o ponto de vista pessoal e eclesiástico do autor, e não podem pretender objetividade maior que a dos dogmáticos eclesiásticos. O evangelho puro que Ritschl, por exemplo, reencontra em Lutero e em Jesus corresponde inteiramente à concepção que ele mesmo formou dele. Por isso todas essas direções bíblicas são continuamente julgadas pela história: prestam seu serviço por um tempo e despertam uma verdade esquecida, mas não mudam a corrente da vida eclesiástica e não têm em si permanência. Costumam partir de uma convicção religiosa que já não se acha nem na Escritura; começam sempre apelando da confissão para a Escritura, mas logo recuam da Escritura para a pessoa de Cristo e acabam por atacar também a autoridade dele. E a história mostra sempre de novo que o cristianismo se conservou relativamente mais puro nas confissões das igrejas.

Mas tal concepção bíblica não é apenas praticamente impossível; é também teoricamente incorreta. A Escritura não é um código, cujos artigos bastasse consultar para saber, num caso determinado, o seu parecer. Compõe-se de muitos livros, de pessoas diversas, de tempos muito diferentes, de conteúdo divergente. Não é uma unidade abstrata, mas orgânica e viva. Em parte alguma contém um esboço da doutrina da fé: esta há de ser derivada de todo o organismo da Escritura. A Escritura não está disposta para que a repitamos como papagaios, mas para que, como filhos livres de Deus, a pensemos até o fim. Mas então também é impossível toda pretensa ausência de pressupostos, toda objetividade. E tanto estudo e tanta reflexão do sujeito se ligam a isso, que um homem só é inteiramente incapaz da tarefa: para ela são precisos séculos, para ela está destinada a igreja, que tem a promessa da condução do Espírito em toda a verdade. Quem se isola da igreja, isto é, da cristandade, de toda a história do dogma, perde a verdade cristã: torna-se como um ramo arrancado da árvore, que fenece. Só na comunhão dos santos se pode compreender o comprimento e a largura, a profundidade e a altura do amor de Cristo.

A isso acresce que os defensores dessa direção esquecem que o cristianismo é universal e pode e deve entrar em todas as formas e condições. Põem a graça em oposição hostil à natureza e não contam bastante com a encarnação do Verbo. Pois tão verdadeiramente como o Filho de Deus se fez homem, assim também o pensamento de Deus está depositado na Escritura, carne e sangue na consciência dos homens. A dogmática é, e deve ser, o pensamento divino inteiramente entrado e acolhido em nossa consciência humana, expresso livre e independentemente em nossa língua, em sua essência fruto dos séculos, em sua forma deste tempo. Por isso é também incorreta a antítese que muitas vezes se faz entre teologia bíblica e dogmática, como se aquela reproduzisse o conteúdo da Escritura e esta o dos dogmas eclesiásticos. Pois a dogmática não pretende outra coisa senão expor os pensamentos de Deus que Ele depositou na Sagrada Escritura — mas o faz, como convém, de maneira científica, numa forma e segundo um método cientificamente exigidos. Nesse sentido defenderam outrora os reformados o direito da chamada theologia scholastica. Nada tinham contra que a verdade revelada fosse apresentada também em forma mais simples, sob o nome de theologia positiva ou catechetica; mas contestavam com toda a força que essas duas diferissem em conteúdo: o que as distinguia era apenas uma diferença de forma e de método. Assumindo esse ponto de vista, mantinham, de um lado, o mais fortemente possível a unidade e a coesão da fé e da teologia, da igreja e da escola, e, de outro, conservavam alto o caráter científico da teologia. Por mais sublimes e admiráveis que fossem os pensamentos de Deus, não eram aforismos, mas formavam uma unidade orgânica, um todo sistemático, que também podia ser pensado até o fim e representado em forma científica. A própria Escritura impele a esse trabalho teológico, quando põe em toda parte a mais forte ênfase não no saber abstrato, mas na doutrina e na verdade, no conhecimento e na sabedoria.

7. Um bom método da dogmática deve, portanto, levar em conta os três dados: Escritura, igreja e convicção pessoal. Só assim é possível ser preservado de grosseira unilateralidade. Resta, contudo, determinar a relação em que esses três dados estão entre si. Em regra, recebemos do nosso meio as nossas convicções religiosas; assim é em todas as religiões e também no cristianismo. Todos nascemos como membros de uma igreja; o pacto da graça nos acolhe desde o nascimento, e as promessas de Deus em Cristo valem não só para os crentes, mas também para a sua semente. Em tempos críticos como o nosso, acontece muitas vezes que sobrevenha depois uma dolorosa ruptura entre a fé da infância e a convicção pessoal. Se essa ruptura é de tal natureza que se deva de fato deixar a própria igreja, mas se possa ainda ligar-se a outra igreja historicamente existente, ela se cura com relativa rapidez: há mudança, mas não perda da religião mesma, do nome cristão, da comunhão, da confissão; resta então um dogma firme, que nos oferece apoio e consolo na vida. Nesse ponto de vista continua possível também uma dogmática, que descreve a verdade de Deus tal como achou reconhecimento em determinada igreja. Muitas vezes, porém, a dúvida penetra bem mais fundo na vida religiosa. Muitos perdem toda a fé e chegam ao ceticismo e ao agnosticismo; aí já não há questão de dogmática, de fé, de confissão, de comunhão: a mera negação é incapaz de fundar comunhão. Outros, não podendo mais manter a fé da infância, tentam, com séria aplicação e luta, conquistar para si uma convicção religiosa própria. Também aqui, sem dúvida, a influência do meio se faz sentir — ninguém chega a uma convicção religiosa de modo inteiramente independente —, com esta diferença apenas: que o que já não se achava numa igreja se busca agora numa escola filosófica. Toda filosofia deste século foi por sua vez agarrada, para despertar e manter certas convicções religiosas. Também nesse ponto de vista já não há dogmática: há apenas uma fé religiosa, uma Glaubenslehre, uma doutrina da fé, uma filosofia da religião.

A dogmática só é possível, portanto, para quem está na comunhão da fé com alguma igreja cristã. Isso está também na natureza da fé religiosa. As representações religiosas distinguem-se das científicas, entre outras coisas, por não repousarem sobre a própria compreensão nem sobre a autoridade de homem algum, mas unicamente sobre a autoridade de Deus. Mas isso implica que tenham achado fé e reconhecimento num círculo religioso, isto é, numa igreja; só aí a autoridade religiosa de uma representação religiosa se torna conhecível. Uma igreja não crê em sua confissão porque lhe percebe cientificamente a verdade, mas única e somente com base na Palavra de Deus, quer esta se exprima apenas na Escritura, quer também por órgãos eclesiásticos. Quem busca sua convicção religiosa numa escola filosófica confunde religião com ciência e não recebe senão uma sententia ou opinio doctoris, uma opinião privada sempre incerta e por muitos contestada. A fé religiosa, porém, por natureza própria, está ligada a uma comunidade e à sua confissão. Também aqui é como em toda parte: as abstrações, os universalia, não existem na realidade. A árvore, o homem, a ciência, a língua, a religião, a teologia em parte alguma se encontram; há apenas árvores, homens, ciências, línguas e religiões particulares. Assim como uma língua está ligada a um povo, assim religião e teologia só se acham e só se cultivam numa comunidade afim: a igreja é o solo natural da religião e da teologia. Assim como não existe já a igreja, também não existem a religião e a teologia; há apenas igrejas diferentes e, portanto, também teologias diferentes. E assim será até que a congregação em Cristo tenha alcançado sua plena maturidade e todos tenham chegado à unidade da fé e do conhecimento do Filho de Deus. Essa unidade não se conquista pela violência, mas promove-se melhor se cada um pensa até o fim a fé da sua própria igreja e a apresenta o mais puramente possível. Não fora das igrejas existentes, mas por meio delas, Cristo prepara para si a sua única igreja santa e católica; e não fora dos diferentes dogmas eclesiásticos, mas por meio deles, se prepara e se obtém a unidade do conhecimento de Deus. Assim também o dogmático poderá trabalhar mais frutuosamente pela purificação e pelo desenvolvimento da vida religiosa e da doutrina de sua igreja. O apego ao que existe é condição da melhora no futuro: no agora está o que será. Essa significação da igreja para a teologia e para a dogmática funda-se na conexão que o próprio Cristo estabeleceu entre ambas: ele prometeu à sua igreja o Espírito Santo, que a guiaria em toda a verdade. Com isso a história do dogma vem a estar numa luz gloriosa: é a explicação da Escritura, a exposição que o Espírito Santo deu na igreja dos tesouros da Palavra. O dogmático, portanto, não há de tirar a matéria de sua dogmática apenas da confissão escrita de sua própria igreja, mas há de considerá-la em conexão com toda a fé e a vida próprias de sua igreja, e esta, por sua vez, com a história de toda a igreja de Cristo. Está sobre os ombros dos pais, sente-se cercado de uma nuvem de testemunhas e deixa o seu testemunho fluir com aquela voz de muitas águas. Toda dogmática deve também unir-se ao hino de louvor que a igreja de todos os séculos eleva a Deus.

8. Mas com isso nem a história do dogma nem a confissão da igreja foram elevadas a autoridade infalível. Há distinção entre o caminho pelo qual o dogmático é formado e o princípio do qual a dogmática recebe a sua matéria. Em toda ciência quem a pratica começa vivendo da tradição: o primeiro conhecimento de sua disciplina adquire-o sempre por autoridade, e precisa primeiro acolher em si a história dessa disciplina e subir ao nível e ao estado presente de sua ciência, para depois trabalhar independentemente e conquistar visão própria do objeto de sua investigação. Mas ninguém, por isso, tem essa tradição, pedagogicamente tão importante, pela fonte de sua ciência. Não é diferente com o dogmático. Pedagogicamente a igreja precede a Escritura; mas segundo a ordem lógica a Escritura é o principium unicum da igreja e da teologia. Em caso de divergência — cuja possibilidade, do ponto de vista da Reforma, nunca se pode negar — igreja e confissão têm de ceder à Escritura.

Não a igreja, mas a Escritura é autopistos, digna de fé por si mesma, judex controversiarum, sui ipsius interpres. Nada pode ser posto no mesmo nível que ela: igreja, confissão, tradição, tudo se há de regular por ela e submeter-se a ela. Os remonstrantes acusaram os reformados de que estes, pela confissão, faltavam à autoridade, à suficiência e à perfeição da Sagrada Escritura. Mas os reformados, embora julgassem a confissão necessária nesta dispensação da igreja, para explicar a Palavra de Deus, afastar as heresias e manter a unidade da fé, sustentaram com toda a força que a confissão não teria a mínima autoridade ao lado da Escritura. Só a Escritura é norma e regula fidei et vitae; a confissão merece fé apenas porque e enquanto concorda e permanece em concordância com ela, obra falível de homens, revisável e examinável pela Escritura. É, quando muito, norma secundaria, não da verdade, mas da doutrina recebida em determinada igreja, e por isso obrigatória para todos os que querem viver em comunhão com essa igreja. Dentro da igreja a confissão tem autoridade como acordo de comunhão, como expressão da fé da congregação; mas a igreja crê e mantém essa confissão unicamente com base na Escritura.

Todas as igrejas cristãs são unânimes em confessar que a Sagrada Escritura é o principium da teologia, e a Reforma reconheceu-a unanimemente como principium unicum; a Confissão Belga exprime-o no art. 5. É verdade que no art. 2 se confessa que Deus é conhecido por dois meios, a natureza e a Escritura, e que todos os teólogos reformados mantiveram a theologia naturalis em sua verdade e em seu valor. Mas no primeiro período, antes que o racionalismo falsificasse a teologia reformada, via-se claramente que natureza e Escritura não estavam independentes e separadas uma ao lado da outra, tampouco a theologia naturalis e a revelata. Calvino incorporou a teologia natural ao corpo da dogmática cristã e disse que a Escritura era os óculos com que o crente contempla Deus mais claramente também nas obras da natureza. A teologia natural não tinha originariamente por fim abrir caminho gradual e progressivamente à theologia revelata; não se adotava com ela o ponto de vista provisório da razão, para então, por raciocínio e prova, subir ao ponto de vista da fé. Desde o princípio o dogmático estava no fundamento da fé e, como cristão, como crente, contemplava então a natureza; e descobria, com o seu olho cristão, armado da Sagrada Escritura, também na natureza os vestígios daquele Deus que pela Escritura, em Cristo, aprendera a conhecer como seu Pai. Subjetivamente, portanto, não falava na dogmática primeiro a razão natural e depois a fé: era sempre o cristão crente que no catecismo, na confissão, na dogmática exprimia a sua fé. E, objetivamente, a natureza não estava como principium autônomo e independente ao lado da Escritura, cada um fornecendo o seu próprio conjunto de verdades; a natureza era vista à luz da Escritura, e a Escritura continha não só a verdade revelada em sentido estrito, mas também as verdades que o crente pode descobrir na natureza. Assim Alsted reconhece uma teologia natural no não regenerado, mas confusa e escura; para o crente, os princípios e as conclusões da teologia natural estão repetidos na Escritura clara e distintamente.

Ainda que haja, pois, um conhecimento de Deus a partir da natureza, a dogmática tem um único principium externum, a saber, a Sagrada Escritura, assim como tem também um único principium internum, a saber, a razão crente. E isso não meramente de modo que a Escritura fosse apenas norma e não fonte, mas precisamente no sentido de principium theologiae. Há aqui grande diferença entre os teólogos antigos e os do tempo presente. Desde que Schleiermacher retrocedeu do objeto ao sujeito, uma multidão de teólogos passou a ver na congregação e em sua confissão a fonte da verdade dogmática: reconheceram e exprimiram, e com razão, o caráter confessional e eclesiástico da dogmática, mas fizeram também da confissão da congregação uma fonte de conhecimento e rebaixaram a Sagrada Escritura a norma, ou então puseram a confissão ao lado da Escritura como fonte de conhecimento. Gunning chegou a afirmar que a doutrina da Escritura como fonte, e não como norma, não era reformada, mas propriamente remonstrante. Mas essa representação assenta numa concepção incorreta da relação entre igreja e Escritura. No primeiro tempo da congregação cristã ainda se podia falar de uma tradição pura, que corria paralela aos escritos dos apóstolos; mas essas duas correntes há muito confluíram. Já não há hoje conhecimento algum da verdade cristã senão a partir da Sagrada Escritura. Ainda que a vida religiosa na congregação se alimente muito mais de livros devocionais do que da Escritura, estes são apenas canais pelos quais a verdade da Escritura é ministrada aos crentes em forma mais compreensível. Além disso, a dogmática é coisa inteiramente diversa da simbólica. Esta descreve e explica a confissão da igreja; a dogmática, porém, dogmatiza, isto é, expõe o que no domínio religioso não vale, mas deve valer como verdade. Deve, é certo, estar em conexão com a confissão, como também com a escola e a igreja; mas está independentemente ao lado da confissão e expõe a verdade de Deus de um modo que lhe é próprio. A Escritura foi dada à igreja, mas também à escola, à ciência; e ambas leem e investigam, explicam e descrevem o seu conteúdo. Confissão e dogmática agem assim uma sobre a outra: a confissão, por sua vez, é tão dependente da dogmática quanto esta daquela. Os dogmas não foram produzidos pela igreja, mas são fruto da teologia: primeiro estiveram os apologistas, depois veio Niceia; primeiro apareceram os reformadores, e depois seguiram-se as confissões protestantes.

E, finalmente, a doutrina da Escritura como unicum principium theologiae é também genuinamente da Reforma e reformada. A Confissão Belga ensina expressamente nos arts. 2 e 7 que o conhecimento de Deus e do seu serviço se haure só da Escritura, e que ela é, portanto, de fato fonte, e não apenas norma. Calvino, Melanchthon e todos os dogmáticos declaram que o conhecimento de Deus só clara e perfeitamente se pode obter da Escritura, e quase toda dogmática começa com a doutrina da Escritura como unicum principium theologiae. As propriedades da auctoritas, da sufficientia e da perfectio, que os protestantes atribuíram à Escritura contra Roma, argumentam o mesmo. Que ao fazê-lo tenham preferido não falar de fons, mas de principium, não enfraquece em nada essa significação inteiramente única da Escritura para a dogmática. O nome principium é até de preferir ao de fons: esta última expressão indica a relação entre Escritura e teologia como mecânica e faz parecer que os dogmas se pudessem tirar da Escritura como se tira água da fonte; principium, porém, aponta para uma conexão orgânica. Os dogmas não estão na Escritura, mas nela está contida a sua matéria: a Escritura contém os germes, as sementes de que os dogmas, sob o ensino do Espírito na igreja, crescem. A dogmática é a verdade da Escritura, passada pela consciência pensante do homem e reproduzida em forma científica.

9. Nem por isso, contudo, ficou eliminado o caráter pessoal da doutrina da fé. Não pode nem deve ficar eliminado, porque a dogmática não é relato histórico, mas indicação do que, no domínio religioso, deve valer como verdade. Esse caráter pessoal, porém, não decorre de que se corte todo vínculo com o objeto e cada um exponha simplesmente o que lhe apraz. Pois então a dogmática deixa de ser ciência e não é senão opinião privada. Se a dogmática, como quer Van Manen, deve abandonar a ilusão de que há uma verdade dada de fora, objetiva, então já não há dogmática: há apenas opiniões subjetivas, das quais uma vale tanto quanto a outra. Toda ciência que pretende esse nome há de ter objeto próprio, existente no mundo real; pressupõe, ademais, que esse objeto é cognoscível; e está a ele ligada o mais estritamente possível. Para a dogmática não vale outra exigência: também ela há de ter objeto próprio, esse objeto há de ser cognoscível, e a ele está absolutamente ligada. Mas a negação de tal objeto próprio e cognoscível nunca pode ser justificada com um apelo ao caráter pessoal da doutrina da fé: isso é confundir duas questões inteiramente distintas. De caráter pessoal da dogmática só se pode falar depois de estabelecido que ela tem objeto próprio.

Pois toda ciência — da natureza, da história, do direito, dos costumes — tem um objeto presente no mundo real, e nem por isso deixa de trazer caráter pessoal; uma menos que a outra, a matemática, por exemplo, em grau muito menor que a história. Mas à medida que as ciências são menos formais e estão mais perto do centro, cresce nessa mesma medida a influência da personalidade. O homem, no exercício da ciência, tanto quanto em qualquer outra parte, não pode desfazer-se de si mesmo: traz consigo a sua educação, a sua visão da vida, o seu coração e a sua consciência, as suas simpatias e antipatias, e estas por si exercem influência sobre a sua investigação e a sua reflexão. Isso em si não é errado: o dualismo que divide o homem em duas metades e o reduz, no exercício das ciências, a puro intelecto, é praticamente impossível e teoricamente mal concebido. A única exigência é que o homem seja sempre e em toda parte, também quando pratica ciência, um homem bom, um homem de Deus convenientemente equipado para toda boa obra. E na dogmática não é diferente; aqui, aliás, tudo isso vale com muito mais razão, pois a dogmática lida justamente com as convicções de fé mais profundas do homem e com o centro de toda ciência. Aqui, sobretudo, é exigência que o homem esteja na relação certa com Deus, a quem conhecer é a vida eterna.

Por isso é também doutrina da Escritura que a revelação objetiva se completa na iluminação subjetiva. A doutrina reformada da Escritura está na mais estreita conexão com a do testimonium Spiritus Sancti. O verbum externum não permanece fora de nós, mas pela fé se torna verbum internum. O Espírito Santo, que deu a Escritura, dá também testemunho dessa Escritura no coração dos crentes; a própria Escritura provê o seu triunfo na consciência da congregação de Cristo. Por isso o crente se sente ligado com toda a alma à Escritura, na qual é introduzido pelo Espírito Santo, o Doctor ecclesiae; e toda a sua intenção é acolher na consciência aqueles pensamentos de Deus depositados na Escritura e compreendê-los pensando. Mas, ao fazê-lo, ele continua sendo homem, com disposição, educação e discernimento próprios; a fé não nasce em todos do mesmo modo nem em todos tem a mesma força; a razão difere em agudeza, profundidade e clareza de pensamento; e a influência do pecado continua a atuar também na sua consciência e no seu entendimento. Em consequência de todas essas influências, a doutrina da fé continua a trazer caráter pessoal — como em toda ciência. Também os profetas e os apóstolos viram a mesma verdade por lados diferentes. A unidade da fé não foi mais alcançada que a unidade do conhecimento; mas é justamente pela diversidade que Deus conduz a sua congregação à unidade. Quando essa unidade da fé e do conhecimento estiver alcançada, também a dogmática terá cumprido a sua tarefa; enquanto isso, permanece-lhe confiada a vocação de interpretar, no domínio da ciência, os pensamentos que Deus depositou para nós na Sagrada Escritura.

Para essa tarefa estará o dogmático equipado do melhor modo se viver em comunhão de fé com a igreja de Cristo e confessar a Escritura como único e suficiente principium do conhecimento de Deus. Recebe ele o conteúdo de sua fé das mãos da igreja: em sentido pedagógico, vem pela igreja à Escritura. Mas nisso não lhe é lícito, tampouco a qualquer crente, ficar parado. Tem a vocação de analisar até as suas fibras os dogmas que veio a conhecer pela igreja e de investigar como estão radicados na Sagrada Escritura. Sua tarefa consistiria assim em entregar primeiro os dogmas objetivamente e depois reduzi-los à Escritura: seu método seria histórico-analítico. Mas, embora esse método tenha talvez em si muito de recomendável para um dogma isolado, e embora na dogmática tenha também valor subordinado, tem contra si que por ele não se chega a um sistema científico. Faz melhor o dogmático em trilhar outro caminho: não do rio para a fonte, mas da fonte para o rio. Sem fazer injustiça à verdade de que a igreja precede pedagogicamente a Escritura, pode ele tomar posição na própria Escritura como principium theologiae e dali desenvolver os dogmas. Reproduz então, por assim dizer, o trabalho de pensamento da igreja; mostra-nos como os dogmas cresceram organicamente da Escritura, como não um texto isolado, mas a Escritura em sua totalidade é o solo firme e largo sobre o qual se ergueu o edifício dogmático. Esse método sintético e genético lhe dá, em segundo lugar, a vantagem de poder mostrar também a unidade e a conexão mútua dos dogmas. Os diversos dogmas não são proposições isoladas, mas formam uma unidade: há propriamente um só dogma, nascido da Escritura, que se ramificou e se dividiu em toda sorte de dogmas particulares. O método do dogmático não pode nem deve ser outro senão sistemático. E, finalmente, tem ele ainda a vocação de, nesse desenvolvimento genético e sistemático dos dogmas, chamar também a atenção para desvios possíveis, suprir lacunas possíveis e assim trabalhar no desenvolvimento futuro dos dogmas: é a tarefa crítica, à qual o dogmático é chamado, mas que no tratamento sistemático da matéria dogmática já está de si incluída. Desse modo procura ele dar na dogmática uma exposição dos tesouros de sabedoria e de conhecimento que estão escondidos em Cristo e patentes na Escritura.

§ 4. Divisão da dogmática

1. Tão logo surgiu a dogmática, foi também preciso dividir a matéria nela tratada. Essa divisão era, no começo, extremamente simples. As três obras principais de Clemente de Alexandria estão ligadas entre si pela ideia da educação do gênero humano pelo Logos, mas não contêm divisão propriamente dita; o próprio Clemente diz que nelas apenas escreveu o que lhe vinha à mente, e que ninguém deve espantar-se com a falta de ordem. A obra de Orígenes Sobre os princípios já tenta pôr alguma ordem na matéria e tem quatro conceitos principais — Deus, mundo, liberdade, revelação —, tratando sucessivamente de Deus, da Trindade e dos anjos; do mundo, do bem e do mal, da encarnação e da ressurreição; da liberdade da vontade e do fim do mundo; e da Sagrada Escritura, sua inspiração e interpretação. Os diversos loci sobre Deus, anjo, homem, Cristo já vêm aqui à luz, mas ainda sem boa ordem nem delimitação correta, e ainda incompletos: falta a doutrina dos sacramentos, a da Escritura vem no fim, e um princípio de divisão não se descobre. Essa divisão de Orígenes é retomada, em forma melhorada, por Teodoreto, cujo esboço da fé ortodoxa trata sucessivamente de Deus, mundo, anjo e homem, Cristo, Escritura e sacramento, ressurreição e juízo, aos quais se acrescentam por fim alguns capítulos éticos. O mesmo esquema está na base da Exposição exata da fé ortodoxa de João Damasceno, que começa pela doutrina de Deus, da Trindade e dos atributos, passa ao mundo, à criação, aos anjos, aos homens e à providência, trata em seguida da pessoa e da obra de Cristo, e termina com alguns capítulos soteriológicos, éticos e escatológicos. A divisão em quatro livros só lhe foi introduzida na Idade Média, depois de traduzida a obra para o latim, e depois que Pedro Lombardo tomara a dianteira com essa divisão em suas Sentenças.

Além disso, o Símbolo dos Apóstolos, em conexão com a fórmula batismal, ofereceu cedo outra divisão para a matéria dogmática. Rufino e Agostinho comentaram-no e trataram as principais matérias da fé cristã segundo o esquema trinitário que lhe está no fundamento. Mas Agostinho foi exemplo para muitos escritores posteriores não só nessa divisão: em seu Enquirídio a Lourenço trata toda a matéria dogmática e ética sob as três virtudes cristãs — fé, esperança e amor —, ainda que de modo muito desigual, pois expõe longamente o que se deve crer, sobretudo com base no símbolo apostólico, e dedica apenas três capítulos à esperança, tomando o Pai-Nosso como fio condutor, e os últimos ao amor. Fé, oração e mandamento formam aqui o esquema da dogmática, adotado depois muitas vezes, sobretudo nos catecismos. Também Isidoro de Sevilha, no primeiro livro de suas Sentenças, segue no essencial a ordem do símbolo apostólico, tratando de Deus, criação, mundo, anjos e homens, Cristo, o Espírito Santo, a igreja, a Escritura e os sacramentos, a ressurreição e as últimas coisas, e reservando os dois livros seguintes exclusivamente à matéria ética.

2. A disposição que Lombardo escolheu na Idade Média lembra mais a de Orígenes, Teodoreto e Damasceno. Suas Sentenças dividem-se em quatro livros: o primeiro trata do mistério da Trindade; o segundo, da criação e formação das coisas corporais e espirituais — criação, anjos, hexâmeron, homem, queda, pecado; o terceiro, da encarnação do Verbo — a pessoa e a obra de Cristo, a fé, a esperança, o amor, as virtudes principais e outros assuntos éticos; o quarto, dos sacramentos, da ressurreição, do juízo, do céu e do inferno. Aqui já se observa progresso perceptível: os assuntos não só estão mais bem agrupados e delimitados, como o todo está repartido em quatro partes, cada uma com seu objeto próprio e distinto; a matéria ética não é, como em Teodoreto, acrescentada ao fim, mas incorporada à própria dogmática; os sacramentos, antes discutidos apenas de passagem, são tratados amplamente. Por outro lado, a disposição deixa muito a desejar em vários respeitos, e assuntos como Escritura, igreja e sobretudo os soteriológicos quase não são mencionados. A maioria dos escolásticos ligou-se a essa obra e escreveu comentários sobre ela; alguns introduziram melhoramentos felizes na ordenação da matéria. Tomás, por exemplo, desenvolve no prólogo ao seu comentário às Sentenças, de modo excelente, que primeiro Deus e depois suas obras — criação, restauração e consumação — são os assuntos dos quatro livros.

Mas do ponto de vista formal cabe lugar de honra ao Breviloquium de Boaventura. Ele faz preceder a obra de um proêmio com um belo panorama da doutrina da Escritura, sobretudo do seu conteúdo, que desdobra brevemente em sua largura e comprimento, profundidade e altura. Dá em seguida, em sete partes, um esboço da verdade da fé: a Trindade, a criatura do mundo, a corrupção do pecado, a encarnação do Verbo, a graça do Espírito Santo, a medicina sacramental e o estado do juízo final. Há aqui um curso firme e metódico, domínio completo da matéria, delimitação pura dos assuntos e também um princípio de divisão conscientemente escolhido, pois Boaventura diz que, embora a teologia trate desses sete assuntos, ela é scientia una, ciência una, porque Deus não é apenas o primeiro princípio e o exemplar efetivo das coisas na criação, mas também refetivo na redenção e perfetivo na retribuição.

Inteiramente diversa é a divisão de Tomás em sua Summa, obra de três partes, divididas em questões e estas em artigos. A primeira parte trata de Deus e de sua criação, antes e fora do pecado: Deus como princípio e exemplar de todas as coisas. A segunda fala do homem como sua imagem e desdobra-se em duas: a primeira começa pelo fim último do homem, a bem-aventurança, e com vistas a ela desenvolve a vontade, a qualidade boa e pecaminosa dos atos, paixões e hábitos humanos, as virtudes em geral, os pecados em sua divisão, sede, causa e consequências, e depois os motivos externos e internos que impelem o homem ao bem — a lei, o evangelho, a graça e o mérito; a segunda trata dos pecados e virtudes em particular, sobretudo segundo a ordem das três virtudes teologais e das quatro cardeais. Determinado assim o fim último do homem e postas em luz suas virtudes e seus pecados, a terceira parte descreve o caminho pelo qual podemos chegar à bem-aventurança da vida imortal, isto é, Cristo e os sacramentos. Aí termina a obra de Tomás, que a deixou inacabada ao morrer; o suplemento, reunido de seus outros escritos, continua os sacramentos e trata do estado das almas depois da morte, da ressurreição, do juízo, da bem-aventurança e da condenação.

A divisão de Tomás não só se desvia da de Boaventura, mas em muitos respeitos fica também atrás dela. É certo que na primeira questão da primeira parte se dá um desenvolvimento amplo da essência da teologia; mas diante disso a doutrina da Escritura permanece inteiramente por discutir. Além disso, Tomás salta logo, no começo da segunda parte, ao fim último da vida humana, e vê-se com isso obrigado a antecipar muitas vezes o que só depois pode ser tratado: as virtudes cristãs, o evangelho, a lei, a graça, que inclui nessa segunda parte, pressupõem a pessoa e a obra de Cristo. Sua divisão está já ligada à doutrina romana da ordo supernaturalis, à qual o homem deve ser elevado: depois de a primeira parte tratar de Deus, a segunda fala do homem, que como imagem de Deus está destinado à gratia supernaturalis mas não pode alcançá-la, e a terceira aponta em Cristo e nos sacramentos o caminho pelo qual o homem pode chegar a esse seu destino. Deus, homem, Cristo são, pois, os assuntos das três partes. Por fim, também a forma de tratamento por questões não está isenta de objeção: Tomás expõe cada verdade de fé em forma de pergunta e traz tudo o que os adversários levantaram contra ela; com apelo a alguma autoridade — Escritura, pais da igreja, Aristóteles — prova então a verdade do que se perguntou e formula a conclusio, que em seguida elucida e defende contra as objeções levantadas.

3. Essas divisões foram na maior parte adotadas pelos teólogos romanos posteriores, tanto nos comentários às Sentenças de Lombardo e à Summa de Tomás quanto em obras dogmáticas independentes: a divisão de Tomás foi adotada por Becanus, e o método dos lugares, de Teodoreto, Damasceno e Lombardo, por Petávio. Mas a escolástica teve ainda outra influência sobre a divisão da matéria. Boaventura já incluíra a doutrina da Escritura no proêmio; Tomás tratara de antemão a essência da teologia; o desenvolvimento da escolástica levou à distinção entre articuli mixti e puri, à doutrina dos praeambula fidei e dos motiva credibilitatis. Assim a matéria dos prolegômenos tornou-se cada vez mais extensa. E quando logo apareceu a Reforma com a autoridade exclusiva da Escritura, tornou-se necessário também aos teólogos romanos prestar contas dos principia da teologia. Melchior Cano sobretudo desenvolveu, em seus loci theologici, a doutrina dos loci, isto é, das fontes da teologia. Essa obra não é uma dogmática, mas uma tópica no sentido de Cícero: trata de dez fontes da teologia — Escritura, tradição, papa, concílio, igreja, pais da igreja, escolásticos, razão, filosofia e história —, das quais as sete primeiras se reduzem a duas, Escritura e tradição, e as três últimas são apenas ministerialmente teológicas.

Desse modo tornou-se gradualmente necessária, antes da dogmática propriamente dita, uma introdução ampla, que, também pela contestação principial da teologia por parte da filosofia, cresceu até virar uma dogmática fundamental inteira. A maioria das dogmáticas romanas trata, por isso, numa primeira parte, da essência ou conceito da teologia, dos praeambula fidei, dos motiva credibilitatis — religião, revelação, profecia, milagres, difusão prodigiosa do cristianismo, mártires —, da fé, das fontes (Escritura e igreja), da teologia e da filosofia, e do conceito de dogmática. Nesses loci, Perrone coloca deliberadamente, à diferença de Cano, a igreja antes da Escritura. E assim é a disposição na maioria dos dogmáticos romanos mais recentes: a igreja avança cada vez mais para o primeiro plano, ela é o principium fidei. O curso da dogmática é então em geral o do método dos lugares: começa-se por Deus, considerado em si mesmo como uno e trino, e passa-se depois a Deus considerado em sua relação com as criaturas, primeiro como Deus Creator, depois como Deus Redemptor, em seguida como Deus Sanctificator e por fim como Deus Consummator.

4. A dogmática entre os reformadores foi desde o início antiescolástica e apresentou-se de início em forma muito simples e prática. Os Loci de Melanchthon, publicados em 1521, nasceram de preleções sobre a Epístola aos Romanos. São inteiramente práticos, tratam apenas de capítulos antropológicos e soteriológicos, sobretudo os do pecado e da graça, da lei e do evangelho, e deixam inteiramente por discutir os dogmas objetivos de Deus, Trindade, criação, encarnação, satisfação. Mas a edição de 1535 foi muito ampliada e inaugurou a segunda idade dos Loci: começava com cinco capítulos novos sobre Deus, a unidade, a Trindade, a criação e a causa do pecado, e desdobrava os últimos três capítulos éticos em dez capítulos de conteúdo ético, eclesiológico e escatológico. Em 1543 os Loci entraram em sua terceira idade: o número de lugares desce, por simplificação, de trinta e nove a vinte e quatro, mas o conteúdo cresce significativamente. As sucessivas edições mostram uma aproximação sempre maior da divisão sintética, que começa por Deus e desce às suas obras na natureza e na graça; mas é notável, nesse sentido, que os prolegômenos faltem inteiramente, que a cristologia saia curta demais porque a pessoa e a obra de Cristo não são tratadas separadamente, que o dogmático e o ético permaneçam estreitamente ligados, e que o todo não se conclua com os dogmas escatológicos, mas com alguns capítulos éticos.

Também Zuínglio trata alguns loci dogmáticos, mas foi logo posto à sombra pela Institutio da religião cristã de Calvino. A primeira edição apareceu em latim em 1536 e continha um prefácio a Francisco I e seis capítulos: sobre a lei, a fé, a oração, os sacramentos, os sacramentos romanos e a liberdade. Foi ampliada três vezes, e a última edição era cerca de cinco vezes maior que a primeira; continha de fato acréscimo e ampliação, mas nenhuma mudança. Melanchthon tornou-se, nas edições posteriores, sinergista e criptocalvinista; Calvino permaneceu o mesmo. Os Loci de Melanchthon ficaram mais sintéticos na forma, mas conservaram o caráter de uma série de lugares; a Institutio de Calvino adquiriu cada vez mais forma sistemática. A edição de 1559 contém quatro livros: sobre o conhecimento de Deus como Criador, como Redentor, como Santificador, e um último sobre os meios externos da graça. A divisão não é, pois, puramente trinitária, mas derivada do símbolo apostólico; daí vir no fim uma quarta parte, que trata sobretudo da igreja e dos sacramentos. O primeiro livro dá muito mais do que o título promete, pois trata também das fontes do conhecimento de Deus e da doutrina da Trindade; a cosmologia e a antropologia distribuem-se pelo primeiro e o segundo livro; o terceiro contém, além do soteriológico, também muitos capítulos éticos, junto com a doutrina da eleição e a da ressurreição. O ponto de partida da Institutio é teológico, mas Calvino não parte de um conceito abstrato de Deus, e sim de Deus tal como o homem o conhece pela natureza e pela Escritura.

5. Teólogos luteranos e reformados seguiram a princípio, quase geralmente, essa divisão sintética de Melanchthon e Calvino, tida por vários motivos como a melhor. Não só reformados, mas também luteranos deram preferência ao método sintético porque nele, como diz Hipério, "faz-se o progresso desde os primeiros princípios, pelas formas e diferenças, até o fim". Essa divisão foi preferida, além disso, porque seguia o mesmo curso histórico que Deus delineara em sua revelação; porque oferecia a menor ocasião para a especulação a priori e preservava melhor o caráter positivo da teologia; e porque era análoga ao método das demais ciências, que também começam pelos elementos ou principia mais simples e passam depois ao composto. Ela permaneceu por isso dominante na igreja luterana até Calixto, e na teologia reformada até Coccejus, encontrando-se, no essencial, em muitos teólogos de ambas as confissões. Foi, porém, modificada em alguns pontos de modo importante. Cedo se antepôs à dogmática propriamente dita uma introdução em que se tratavam o conceito de teologia, a doutrina da Escritura e, aqui ou ali, também a essência da fé. A dogmática ficou assim dividida em duas partes, de principiis theologiae e de articulis fidei. No próprio corpo veio melhor distinção e delimitação e também ordenação mais sistemática dos loci: a eleição, tratada por Calvino no terceiro livro, passou para a frente, à doutrina dos decretos; a doutrina do mundo, do homem, de Cristo recebeu cada uma seu lugar próprio; a conclusão da dogmática não coube a alguns capítulos éticos, mas à consummatio seculi; a matéria ética foi discutida na soteriologia, ou numa segunda parte de operibus, distinta da primeira de fide, ou ainda inteiramente separada da dogmática. No século XVII o tratamento dos loci individuais tornou-se cada vez mais escolástico, e a conexão com a vida de fé foi sentida cada vez menos.

6. A reação contra esse escolasticismo não podia, a longo prazo, deixar de aparecer. Começou na igreja luterana com Calixto e na reformada com Coccejus. Calixto concebeu a teologia como ciência prática e seguiu a divisão analítica. Isso não era novo enquanto também Tomás, depois da doutrina de Deus, passa na segunda parte ao destino do homem e na terceira descreve o caminho que em Cristo conduz até lá. Mas Calixto começa de imediato pelo fim, o destino do homem: a parte I trata de fine, isto é, da imortalidade da alma, da ressurreição e do juízo final; a parte II fala de subjecto, isto é, de Deus, do anjo, do homem, do pecado; a parte III trata de mediis, isto é, da predestinação, da encarnação, de Cristo, da justificação, da palavra, do sacramento. Essas três partes formam a pars communis, que diz respeito a todos os crentes; segue-se ainda uma pars propria, que trata sobretudo da igreja e importa em particular aos oficiais. Ainda que houvesse nisso muito de bom — acentuar, contra o tratamento escolástico da teologia, o seu caráter prático —, a divisão é onerada por muitas objeções. Além de a doutrina da igreja, tratada na pars propria, ser verdade de importância para todos os crentes, causa estranha impressão que a dogmática comece pelo fim, pela imortalidade; e a segunda parte, que devia tratar do sujeito da teologia, o homem, contém também toda a doutrina sobre Deus. Ainda assim, esse método analítico foi seguido pelos teólogos luteranos posteriores e encontrou aceitação também entre os reformados.

Já antes de Calixto, em 1603, Keckermann publicara em Dantzig um sistema de teologia sagrada em que define a teologia, apelando ao catecismo de Ursino, não como scientia contemplatrix, mas como disciplina operativa, ou melhor ainda como prudentia religiosa de chegar à salvação. Escolhe por isso com decisão o método analítico, pois o sintético é próprio das ciências, ao passo que o analítico convém às disciplinas operativas. Divide então sua teologia em três partes. Na primeira trata dos principia da teologia, a saber, Deus, o principium essendi, e sua Palavra, o principium cognoscendi: só desses dois nos vêm a ser conhecidos o fim e os meios que a ele conduzem. Na segunda diz com uma palavra apenas que o fim da teologia é a vida, a salvação eterna, como Ursino o põe à frente na primeira pergunta de seu catecismo; e que os meios para alcançar esse fim são dois, o conhecimento de nossa miséria e a libertação dela — donde o livro II tratar do homem e de seu pecado, e o livro III dos media salutis: eleição, Cristo, igreja, justificação, sacramentos. Notável é ainda que Keckermann compare de preferência a teologia com a medicina e lhe tome emprestados até os nomes das diferentes partes de sua teologia, falando de uma parte patológica, terapêutica e dietética — o que Boaventura já fizera antes dele.

Igualmente, em Coccejus o ponto de vista teológico foi trocado pelo antropológico. O elemento novo em seu Sistema da doutrina da aliança e do testamento de Deus não estava no conceito de aliança como tal, que já ocorre em Zuínglio e Calvino e fora desenvolvido por Bullinger, Olevianus e Cloppenburg. Estava em que Coccejus, pela primeira vez, ordenou toda a matéria dogmática a partir desse conceito, pretendendo com isso dar uma dogmática mais bíblico-teológica e antiescolástica; em que seguiu, na disposição da matéria, a ordem histórica das dispensações da aliança, distinguindo-as tão agudamente que a unidade delas se perdeu e só podia ser preservada por exegese típica arbitrária; e, por fim, em que considera toda a história da aliança da graça, do começo ao fim, como uma abolição da aliança das obras: pecado, Cristo, Nova Aliança, morte corporal e ressurreição são os cinco pontos de virada pelos quais a aliança das obras é sucessivamente privada de toda a sua força e operação. Essa divisão é onerada por muitas objeções: não toma seu ponto de partida teologicamente em Deus, mas na aliança de Deus e do homem, e por isso não pode tratar a doutrina sobre Deus e sobre o homem senão de antemão, numa introdução, a título de pressuposto; pelo seu curso histórico apaga a fronteira entre a história da revelação e a dogmática, e com isso mina esta última; cai em repetições múltiplas e chega por si mesma a exagerar ora as analogias, ora as distinções entre as diferentes dispensações da aliança. Encontrou, no entanto, imitação em muitos, e também entre luteranos. E até Leydecker, seguidor de Voetius e opositor de Coccejus, tentou ligar a divisão trinitária com a federalista, de modo que as sucessivas economias da graça fossem postas em conexão com as três pessoas e com a tríplice atividade na Trindade.

7. Mas mudança ainda maior veio à forma da dogmática pela influência da filosofia. Ela se exprime sobretudo em que a dogmática propriamente dita se torna, em seu conteúdo material, cada vez mais pobre, enquanto a pars formalis ganha continuamente em tamanho e amplitude. Até então fora bem diferente: os prolegômenos faltavam de todo, ou eram pequenos e tratavam quando muito da teologia e da Escritura; toda a força era empregada na elaboração e na defesa dos dogmas particulares. O fundamento estava tão firme que não era sequer investigado; todo o trabalho se gastava no edifício erguido sobre ele. Isso mudou pela filosofia, pelos direitos que a razão pouco a pouco arrogou a si diante da revelação: já não se contentava com o modesto papel de serva e exigia voz no capítulo. Na pars materialis isso teve por consequência que toda elaboração escolástica dos dogmas fosse evitada o mais possível; volta-se da confissão à Escritura e abraça-se o método histórico e bíblico; os dogmas são simplificados e desgastados e perdem o que têm de distintivo; toda reflexão mais profunda sobre eles é banida; a simplicidade torna-se superficialidade.

Mas a influência sobre a parte formal da dogmática foi ainda maior. Abandonou-se aqui o ponto de partida reformatório da fé e voltou-se ao da teologia romana. Primeiro pensou-se que a razão humana, mesmo fora da fé, podia produzir de si mesma todas as verdades da theologia naturalis; esta precedia a theologia revelata como praeambula fidei, a razão emancipava-se da fé e da revelação, e ambas ficavam independentes lado a lado. Em seguida, essa razão não só recebeu domínio próprio ao lado da revelação, mas estendeu também seu poder sobre a própria revelação: concedeu-se-lhe o direito de investigar a verdade da revelação. Na teologia natural estava-se sobre fundamento firme, sobre base puramente científica; desse ponto de vista investigava-se também a revelação, e se então a razão, por toda sorte de provas racionais e históricas, como outros tantos motiva credibilitatis, demonstrasse a verdade da revelação, era decerto razoável crer nela e submeter-se a ela. Assim os prolegômenos ficaram cada vez mais extensos: trata-se primeiro da religião, distinta da teologia; depois da teologia natural e das verdades racionais; em seguida da revelação, cuja possibilidade, necessidade e realidade são longamente demonstradas; e por fim da Sagrada Escritura, cuja verdade é sustentada por toda sorte de provas históricas, críticas e racionais. E só depois desse longo caminho se chega à dogmática propriamente dita, que aparece tão sóbria e simples quanto possível. Todo o ponto de vista mudou: o ponto de partida já não é a fé, mas a razão. Que admira que isso, no deísmo e no racionalismo, negue toda revelação — uma revelação que afinal nada dá de novo e é inteiramente supérflua?

Essa ordem de tratamento é essencialmente própria da teologia escolástica e romana. Os socinianos nunca se ergueram acima desse ponto de vista racionalista, e os remonstrantes voltaram a esse método: Limborch fala primeiro da teologia e da religião, depois da existência de Deus, e só então da Sagrada Escritura, e Episcópio amplia ainda mais essa matéria introdutória. Gradualmente essa expansão dos prolegômenos penetrou também na dogmática ortodoxa: a divisão da dogmática em duas partes, de fide e de operibus, leva Amésio e Maestricht a discutir, no começo, depois da teologia e da Escritura, também a natureza da fé; Marck e Moor falam da religião; Brakel começa com um capítulo sobre a teologia natural. Há, pois, muita diferença e confusão sobre o que pertence à introdução. Mas gradualmente, no século XVIII, começa a fixar-se uma série de assuntos para ela: teologia, conhecimento natural de Deus, revelação, Escritura — assim em todos os teólogos de direção racionalista e supranaturalista.

8. Foi de fato por Kant que o fundamento racionalista da dogmática foi minado, e Schleiermacher tentou realmente salvar a fé e a doutrina da fé restringindo-as ao sentimento e à descrição dele. Mas na verdade nenhuma mudança se produziu nessa ordem da dogmática. Os ataques à religião cristã neste século dirigem-se em primeiro lugar contra os próprios fundamentos. Em séculos anteriores a fé era mais poderosa e a pergunta "por que creio?" mal surgia; os fundamentos pareciam tão firmes que investigá-los era inteiramente desnecessário, e toda a força se empregava em erguer o edifício. Agora, porém, a dogmática é contestada justamente em seus pressupostos filosóficos: não se nega esta ou aquela doutrina dentro da dogmática, mas a possibilidade da dogmática. A capacidade cognitiva humana é limitada às coisas visíveis; a revelação é tida por impossível; a Sagrada Escritura é privada de sua autoridade divina pela crítica histórica; e até o direito e o valor da religião são seriamente disputados. Por tudo isso, e em parte por causa disso, a vida religiosa diminuiu fortemente: há muito movimento na esfera religiosa, mas há pouca vida verdadeiramente religiosa. A fé já não se sente segura; mesmo entre os crentes há muita dúvida e instabilidade. O "eu creio", infantil e ao mesmo tempo heroico, raras vezes se ouve, e cedeu lugar ao duvidar crítico. Talvez ainda se creia na própria confissão, mas já não se confessa a própria fé. Em tempos de vida religiosa desperta fala-se como quem tem autoridade, e não como o escriba; então soa dos lábios: sei em quem tenho crido. Mas num tempo crítico como o nosso há incerteza precisamente quanto aos principia, quanto à fonte de conhecimento, ao método, à prova. A pars formalis é, por isso, ainda a parte mais importante da dogmática: toda uma apologética precede a dogmática.

Schleiermacher fez de fato da dogmática uma ciência positiva e histórica e tentou libertá-la de toda apologética. Mas fez a teologia filosófica preceder a teologia histórica, à qual a dogmática pertence, e esta havia de tomar seu ponto de partida acima do cristianismo, na vida religiosa comunitária em geral, para dali determinar criticamente a essência do cristianismo. De fato, não libertou assim a teologia da filosofia, mas tornou-a dela tão dependente quanto possível — o que se mostra também em que faz preceder sua Glaubenslehre, sua doutrina da fé, de uma introdução ampla, com toda espécie de teoremas emprestados da ética, da filosofia da religião e da apologética. Ora, o exemplo de Schleiermacher, de antepor enciclopedicamente a teologia filosófica à histórica, encontrou imitação apenas em poucos; mas em conexão com ele tornou-se costume começar a dogmática com uma parte apologética: Voigt escreveu uma dogmática fundamental, Van Oosterzee lançou um fundamento apologético, Dorner faz preceder uma parte mais fundamental ou apologética, e outros, uma doutrina dos princípios. O conselho de Liebner — desenvolver na introdução apenas o conceito de dogmática, pois de outro modo vem uma dogmática inteira antes da dogmática, e os conceitos de religião e revelação já pressupõem a doutrina de Deus e do homem — foi pouco seguido. Os assuntos tratados nessa doutrina dos princípios não são os mesmos em todos, mas na maioria percorrem os conceitos de natureza do nosso conhecimento em matéria religiosa, religião, revelação, Sagrada Escritura e igreja. O capítulo sobre a teologia, antes muitas vezes incluído, foi transferido para a enciclopédia. A divisão da dogmática material é muito diversa: uns seguem a divisão trinitária; outros partem de Cristo e tratam dos pressupostos, da pessoa e da obra de Cristo; o contraste de pecado e graça, precedido do pressuposto da relação entre Deus e mundo, está na base da divisão de Schleiermacher e de Rothe; outros tomaram por ponto de partida o conceito de aliança, isto é, a comunhão de Deus, e tratam da origem, da perturbação, da restauração objetiva, da realização subjetiva e da consumação dessa comunhão; o reino de Deus é escolhido como principium dividendi por Van Oosterzee, o conceito de amor por Schoeberlein, o de vida por Oetinger; enquanto muitos, por fim, seguem a ordem usual de teologia, antropologia e assim por diante.

9. Quanto, primeiro, à divisão da dogmática em uma parte geral e uma parte especial, ela não só se tornou necessária pela oposição principial à dogmática, como é em si mesma útil e boa. Cedo se sentiu a necessidade de pôr em luz, antes dos dogmas propriamente ditos, a essência da teologia e seus princípios; Polano já fazia distinção entre os principia e os articuli fidei. E aos poucos tornou-se necessidade urgente, para o crente, saber não só o que crê, mas também por que crê. Mas com isso se determina também a tarefa dessa primeira parte geral. Ela não deve ocupar-se de toda sorte de questões enciclopédicas, como a essência, a história e a divisão da teologia. Antigamente isso acontecia porque a teologia era identificada com a dogmática e porque a enciclopédia teológica ainda não era praticada como disciplina separada. Agora, porém, o desenvolvimento da essência da teologia deve ser deixado à enciclopédia; à dogmática pertence apenas a exposição do nome, do conceito, do método, da divisão e da história da própria dogmática, como se faz na introdução.

Mas a parte principial da dogmática deve ser limitada ainda de outro modo. O método que surgiu já com a escolástica e depois encontrou aceitação também entre os protestantes — tratar primeiro o conhecimento natural de Deus, os praeambula fidei, e em seguida todas as provas históricas e racionais da revelação, os motiva credibilitatis — merece reprovação, porque abandona logo no início e por princípio o ponto de vista da fé, desconhece o caráter positivo da dogmática, passa para o terreno do adversário e é assim, de fato, racionalista, tornando a dogmática dependente da filosofia. A isso pertence também a tentativa de identificar a teologia ou religião natural com a aliança das obras e tratá-la como preparação da teologia revelada, que seria em substância uma com a aliança da graça: Schweizer e Scholten fazem da religião natural, da religião da lei e da religião da redenção três momentos de um processo religioso. Com isso a revelação não só é privada de seu caráter sobrenatural, como se usa a divisão reformada contra a sua intenção. A aliança das obras, antes da queda, não é preparação da aliança da graça, mas forma com ela uma antítese, pois esta só aparece na história depois da ruptura daquela pelo pecado. A distinção entre teologia natural e revelada, por outro lado, é inteiramente diversa: não é histórica, mas subsiste e continua sempre na teologia. Contra tal racionalização da religião e da teologia deve manter-se o caráter positivo. Os principia fidei são também articuli fidei, que repousam não sobre raciocínios e provas humanas, mas sobre autoridade divina. O reconhecimento da revelação, da Escritura como Palavra de Deus, é fruto e ato de fé. Na dogmática, do princípio ao fim, quem tem a palavra é o crente, tanto nos principia como nos articuli fidei: ele confessa e presta contas de sua fé, do seu fundamento e do seu conteúdo. Na primeira parte, portanto, desenvolvem-se apenas os principia fidei. Estes são duplos, principium externum e internum, objetivo e formal, assim como se devem distinguir a religião objetiva e a subjetiva. E nesses dois se esgota toda a primeira parte da dogmática.

Na disposição da matéria da segunda parte, a divisão trinitária deve ser rejeitada, porque naturalmente não pode incluir o tratamento da própria Trindade em uma das três economias e por isso tem de fazê-lo preceder, a título de suposição, num capítulo à parte. Além disso, há nessa divisão o perigo de que as opera ad extra sejam concebidas demasiado como opera personalia e pouco consideradas como opera essentialia, obras comuns das três pessoas; ou, ao contrário, de que, mantida a unidade, a Trindade seja tomada apenas economicamente e desconhecida em seu caráter ontológico. Por fim, liga-se ainda a ela o reverso de que os loci sobre criação, anjo, homem, pecado e igreja, distribuídos pelas pessoas da Trindade, não podem alcançar o que lhes é próprio. Mas objeções muito maiores existem contra a divisão cristológica. Por atraente que pareça à primeira vista, é inutilizável. Repousa, em primeiro lugar, muitas vezes na representação incorreta de que não a Escritura, mas especificamente a pessoa de Cristo seria o principium e a fonte de conhecimento da dogmática — e no entanto nada sabemos de Cristo senão a partir da Escritura e por meio dela. Além disso, Cristo é certamente o centro e o conteúdo principal da Sagrada Escritura; mas precisamente porque é o centro, não é o ponto de partida: pressupõe Deus e o homem, assim como também não apareceu imediatamente, mas só muitos séculos depois da promessa. Depois, é indubitável que Cristo nos revelou o Pai; mas esse falar de Deus pelo Filho não anula o falar de Deus, de muitos modos, pelos profetas: não só o Novo Testamento, nem tampouco só as palavras de Jesus, mas toda a Escritura é Palavra de Deus que nos vem por Cristo. Por fim, é claro que a divisão cristológica só pode tratar os loci sobre Deus, criação, mundo e homem por meio de suposições e postulados, e assim não pode desenvolvê-los em sua rica significação. As demais divisões — derivadas das três virtudes, de fé, oração e mandamento, do destino e do fim último do homem, da aliança ou comunhão de Deus e homem, do reino de Deus, dos conceitos de vida, amor, espírito — podem ter muito a seu favor na prática e estar em seu lugar num catecismo; não podem entrar em consideração para uma dogmática, que é o sistema do conhecimento de Deus. Não são para isso bastante centrais e gerais. Por isso ou são trazidas de fora e não governam o sistema, ou são mantidas estritamente como princípio de divisão e fazem injustiça a vários loci.

10. O conteúdo da dogmática é o conhecimento de Deus, tal como Ele se revelou em Cristo, por sua Palavra. O caráter distintivo do conhecimento do crente consiste em que ele vê tudo religiosa e teologicamente, considera tudo à luz de Deus, sub specie aeternitatis. Essa é a diferença entre a sua visão de mundo e a filosófica ou científica. Na dogmática é sempre o crente, o cristão, quem fala. Ele não especula sobre Deus, não parte de um conceito abstrato e filosófico de Deus, e não chega pela teologia natural à teologia revelada. Não raciocina sobre Deus tal como existe em si mesmo, pois esse conhecimento é totalmente inatingível; descreve apenas aquele conhecimento de Deus que lhe foi revelado em Cristo. Assim, mesmo quando na primeira parte da dogmática trata de Deus, de seus atributos, da Trindade, ele fala e pensa como crente, como cristão, como teólogo, e não como filósofo. Em cada dogma, portanto, bate o coração da religião. A dogmática não é sistema filosófico; a dogmática é teologia.

Mas justamente por isso o dogmático, em seu sistema do conhecimento de Deus, não descreve como chegou à fé e como pela fé obteve, subjetiva e sucessivamente, a compreensão das várias verdades de fé. Isso seria um método analítico, excelente num catecismo, mas que não convém a uma dogmática. Ele explica antes o conteúdo de sua fé, tal como está objetivamente, na revelação, desdobrado pelo próprio Deus diante do seu olho de fé. Deriva o princípio de divisão e a disposição da matéria não da sua própria vida de fé, mas do próprio objeto que tem de descrever em sua dogmática; não do sujeito crente, mas do objeto da fé. Por mais que concordemos de todo o coração com que na dogmática, sempre e por toda parte, do começo ao fim, seja o crente quem pensa e fala, é coisa inteiramente diversa derivar também da própria experiência a ordenação da matéria dogmática. Com isso a dogmática seria desconhecida em seu caráter, passaria a antropologia e deixaria de ser teológica. Ela só permanece teológica se o seu sistema for derivado da sua própria matéria e do seu próprio conteúdo.

Escolhido bem esse ponto de partida, apenas duas divisões se recomendam. A primeira é a divisão trinitária já discutida. Há nela muito de atraente; por isso encontrou aceitação repetidas vezes e exerceu também grande influência na filosofia. Recomenda-se por seu caráter puramente teológico: Deus é princípio e fim, alfa e ômega; natureza e história estão subsumidas sob Ele; todas as coisas são de Deus e para Deus. A divisão trinitária guarda contra a uniformidade e garante vida, desenvolvimento, processo. Mas com isso fica ao mesmo tempo indicado o seu perigo: é especulativa demais, sacrifica a história ao sistema, toma com demasiada facilidade a cosmogonia para dentro da vida trinitária de Deus e torna-se então teogonia — a filosofia de Erígena, Böhme, Baader, Schelling e Hegel serve de prova.

Merece portanto preferência aquela divisão que é teológica e ao mesmo tempo traz caráter histórico-genético. Também ela toma seu ponto de partida em Deus e considera todas as criaturas apenas em relação a Ele; mas, partindo de Deus, desce às suas obras, para por elas tornar a subir até Ele e nele terminar. Também nessa divisão, portanto, Deus é o princípio, o meio e o fim: dele, por ele e para ele são todas as coisas. Mas Deus não é aqui arrastado para dentro do processo da história, e a história alcança aqui melhor o que lhe é próprio. Entre Deus e suas obras faz-se distinção. Nessas obras Ele aparece como Criador, Restaurador e Consumador: é exemplar efetivo na criação, refetivo na redenção, perfetivo na retribuição. A dogmática é o sistema do conhecimento de Deus tal como Ele se revelou em Cristo; é o sistema da religião cristã. E a essência da religião cristã consiste em que a criação do Pai, destruída pelo pecado, é restaurada de novo na morte do Filho de Deus e, pela graça do Espírito Santo, recriada em um reino de Deus. A dogmática mostra-nos como Deus, o Todo-suficiente em si mesmo, glorifica-se contudo em sua criação, a qual, mesmo despedaçada pelo pecado, é ainda assim reunida em Cristo (Ef 1.10). Descreve-nos Deus, sempre Deus, do princípio ao fim: Deus em seu ser, Deus em sua criação, Deus diante do pecado, Deus em Cristo, Deus quebrando pelo Espírito Santo toda resistência e conduzindo a criação inteira ao fim por Ele determinado, a glória do seu nome. A dogmática não é, portanto, ciência seca. É uma teodiceia, um hino de louvor a todas as virtudes e perfeições de Deus, um cântico de adoração e de gratidão, uma "glória a Deus nas alturas".

§ 5. História e literatura da dogmática

A. O surgimento da dogmática, séculos II-IV.

1. A Sagrada Escritura não é uma dogmática. Contém todo o conhecimento de Deus de que temos necessidade, mas não o formulou dogmaticamente. A verdade está ali depositada como fruto da revelação e da inspiração, numa linguagem que é a expressão imediata da vida e que por isso permanece sempre fresca e original; ainda não se tornou objeto de reflexão nem passou pela consciência pensante. Aqui e ali, como na Epístola aos Romanos, há um começo de desenvolvimento dogmático; mais que um começo não é. O período da revelação tinha de se fechar antes que pudesse começar o da reprodução dogmática. A Escritura é a mina de ouro, mas é a igreja que dela extrai o ouro, o cunha e o converte em moeda corrente. Esse processamento dogmático do conteúdo da Escritura não é, porém, obra de um único teólogo, nem de uma igreja ou de uma escola particular, mas de toda a igreja através de todos os séculos, de toda a nova humanidade renascida por Cristo. Assim como há unidade e continuidade no desenvolvimento de toda ciência, assim também na teologia e na dogmática. Também elas têm uma história — não apenas no sentido de que a matéria foi sendo gradualmente revelada por Deus, nem apenas no de que as diversas verdades foram sendo formuladas com mais clareza pela igreja e aplicadas na vida, mas ainda neste: que a consciência científica foi obtendo, cada vez mais, um discernimento claro do organismo e do sistema daquela verdade revelada. Também o caráter científico da dogmática e da teologia percorreu uma história.

Os Pais Apostólicos ainda se mantêm inteiramente no ponto de vista de uma fé ingênua e infantil. O cristianismo não era fruto da investigação humana, mas da revelação, e exigia por isso, em primeiro lugar, fé. Ainda se ecoa a Escritura. Os conceitos bíblicos — Cristo como Senhor, sua morte, a fé, a conversão, a congregação, a oração, a ressurreição, a vida, a imortalidade — são de fato adotados, mas sem que a reflexão desperte e sem que seu conteúdo seja pensado e analisado. O cristianismo, além disso, encontrara entrada sobretudo entre os simples e os incultos. Todo o empenho se dirige tanto mais a converter a verdade cristã em vida e a fazê-la dominar praticamente também no culto e na organização; a ênfase não recai sobre o conhecimento, mas sobre uma vida santa, sobre a prática das virtudes cristãs do amor, da mansidão, da paz, da unidade. O círculo de ideias em que se move é, por isso, ainda estreito: faltam por completo muitos conceitos bíblicos, outros são enfraquecidos ou alterados, e prepara-se a concepção legalista do cristianismo. Em geral, os escritos dos Pais Apostólicos são mais fortes e mais ricos eticamente do que dogmaticamente. Apesar da mesma forma epistolar e em parte das mesmas congregações a que se dirigem, a diferença e a distância entre os Apóstolos e os Pais Apostólicos saltam fortemente aos olhos: a consciência pagã não podia assimilar tão depressa os pensamentos cristãos.

2. Nessa simples repetição e aplicação prática da verdade da Escritura, porém, a teologia não podia ficar parada. A oposição que o cristianismo foi experimentando da parte da cultura pagã forçou-o à reflexão e à defesa. No primeiro período o poder pagão limitou-se à perseguição, ao ódio, ao desprezo e ao escárnio, como se exprimem em Tácito e em Luciano. Mas aos poucos o mundo pagão teve de contar com o cristianismo e o atacou cientificamente. Os principais adversários científicos são Celso, Porfírio, Frontão e, mais tarde, Juliano. Todos os argumentos que depois, por todos os séculos, foram levantados contra o cristianismo já se encontram neles: contra a autenticidade e a verdade de muitos livros bíblicos, contra a revelação e os milagres, contra dogmas como a encarnação, a satisfação, o perdão, a ressurreição e a eternidade das penas, contra a moral cristã, seu ascetismo, seu desprezo do mundo, sua incultura — para não falar das acusações caluniosas de adoração de uma cabeça de burro, de infanticídio, de adultério. Também esse combate científico não venceu o cristianismo. E os pagãos viram-se obrigados ou a trazer a velha religião a nova vida, como tentaram o neopitagorismo e o neoplatonismo, ou a misturar e ligar o cristianismo ao paganismo, como aconteceu no gnosticismo e no maniqueísmo.

Sobretudo o gnosticismo foi uma tentativa poderosa de absorver o cristianismo na combinação e fusão de toda sorte de elementos pagãos — filosofia neoplatônica, mitologia síria e fenícia, astrologia caldaica, dualismo persa — e assim despojá-lo de seu caráter absoluto. A questão principal era como o espírito humano viera parar nos grilhões da matéria e como podia agora libertar-se deles. Deus é ali, de regra, a unidade abstrata e indiferenciada; dele não se explica a matéria, causa do mal, que se deriva de um deus inferior, o demiurgo, situado entre o Deus supremo e o mundo sensível e identificado com o Deus do Antigo Testamento. Para a redenção dos espíritos presos na matéria procedem de Deus vários éons, que representam as várias religiões e culminam no éon Cristo. O cristianismo não é, pois, a única, mas a mais alta religião. Cristo, porém, é concebido doceticamente, pois não importa o fato, a história, mas a ideia. Por isso também a bem-aventurança suprema consiste em conhecer; o conhecimento com a ascese torna bem-aventurado. A fé pode servir aos não desenvolvidos; o conhecimento, a filosofia, é o mais alto, propriedade dos "espirituais". Essas ideias foram postas em acordo com a Escritura por exegese alegórica e apresentadas em formas e imagens tomadas da mitologia. Transformaram o cristianismo numa espécie de filosofia da religião, de filosofia especulativa, que por todos os séculos, até os sistemas de Hegel e Schelling, exerceu sua influência.

Diante desses ataques, a defesa tornou-se necessária. Os cristãos foram compelidos a refletir sobre o conteúdo da revelação e a opor um verdadeiro conhecimento cristão ao falso. A verdade revelada torna-se objeto de pensamento metódico e científico. A teologia surgiu — não da igreja e para a igreja, nem para a formação de seus ministros, mas por ocasião e para a repulsa dos ataques dirigidos contra o cristianismo. Naturalmente, para tal atividade do pensamento era necessário o conhecimento da filosofia pagã: a teologia nasceu com o auxílio da filosofia e em ligação com ela. Também os gnósticos o haviam tentado, mas havia diferença essencial no modo como uns e outros buscavam essa ligação. Essa diferença não está em que os primeiros tenham empreendido uma helenização aguda e os segundos uma helenização gradual do cristianismo, como quer Harnack. Está em que, nos gnósticos, o conteúdo positivo e absoluto da religião cristã se perdeu, enquanto nos apologistas foi preservado; naqueles o uso da filosofia era material, nestes essencialmente formal; aqueles foram por isso rejeitados pela igreja, estes reconhecidos; aqueles apresentavam as várias filosofias como um processo religioso em que também o cristianismo se incluía, estes procuravam demonstrar a religião cristã, que reconheciam e aceitavam, como a verdade mais alta, como a verdadeira filosofia, que une em si todos os elementos de verdade vindos de outra parte.

Esse é mesmo o pensamento fundamental dos apologistas, e eles o desenvolvem assim: Deus é um, inefável, espiritual, mas pelo Logos é também criador do mundo, causa última de tudo o que é e princípio de todo bem moral. O dualismo gnóstico está aqui vencido; o mundo traz por toda parte o cunho do Logos divino, e também a matéria é boa e criada por Deus. O homem foi originalmente criado bom, recebeu razão e liberdade e foi destinado à imortalidade, que devia e podia alcançar pelo caminho da livre obediência. Mas deixou-se seduzir pelos demônios e caiu sob o domínio da sensualidade, presa do erro e da morte. Também aqui se evita o dualismo, e a causa do pecado é buscada na vontade do homem. Novos meios são então necessários para reconduzi-lo do caminho da falsidade e da morte e levá-lo adiante à imortalidade. Deus revelou-se pelo Logos desde os tempos mais antigos, comunicou conhecimento da verdade também a alguns pagãos, mas especialmente aos profetas em Israel, e por fim em seu Filho Jesus Cristo. Nele toda verdade anterior é confirmada e completada; por ele, como mestre da verdade, o homem é reconduzido ao seu destino. Os apologistas são assim intelectualistas e moralistas; contudo, em Justino não falta o esforço de compreender Cristo também como Reconciliador e Redentor, por cujo sangue recebemos o perdão dos pecados. Dentre eles Justino é de longe o mais importante.

3. Os começos da teologia entre os apologistas não foram apenas fracos, mas em muitos respeitos também não isentos de unilateralidade e de erro. Os problemas que se apresentavam eram muitos e formidáveis — a relação entre teologia e filosofia, a doutrina do Logos em sua relação com Deus, o significado de Cristo e de sua morte — e demasiado profundos para que a compreensão justa se obtivesse de uma só vez. A diferença de opiniões manifestou-se repetidamente: tão logo houve teologia, houve também distinção de direção e de escola. Duas espécies de direção dogmática logo se distinguem.

De um lado, a representada por Tertuliano, Cipriano e Lactâncio, e também por Irineu e seu discípulo Hipólito de Roma. Todos eles se põem antiteticamente diante da filosofia. Irineu adverte gravemente contra ela, e Tertuliano a bane inteiramente e do modo mais cortante, na conhecida passagem sobre o que têm em comum Atenas e Jerusalém, a academia e a igreja, os cristãos e os hereges. E, no entanto, todos fazem dela o uso mais ingênuo; Tertuliano é justamente tão importante para a teologia porque introduziu uma série de termos para o dogma trinitário e cristológico — trias, trinitas, satisfacere, meritum, sacramentum, una substantia e tres personae, duae substantiae in una persona. Mas ao fazê-lo mantêm-se sobre o fundamento da fé da igreja; são históricos, positivos, realistas, e entre fé e teologia não fazem distinção qualitativa, mas quando muito quantitativa. E de fato não se pode ainda falar aqui de um sistema dogmático: os dogmas estão soltos uns ao lado dos outros, um princípio definido não se encontra, e na cristologia de Tertuliano e de Hipólito o gnosticismo não foi de todo vencido. Não obstante, a teologia desses homens, e sobretudo a de Irineu, foi a dos séculos seguintes. Todos os dogmas posteriores se encontram nele: a unidade de Deus, a unidade de essência entre o Pai e o Filho, entre o Deus da criação e o da recriação, entre o Deus do Antigo e o do Novo Testamento; a criação do mundo do nada; a unidade do gênero humano; a origem do pecado na liberdade da vontade; as duas naturezas de Cristo; a revelação absoluta de Deus em Cristo; a ressurreição de todos os homens — tudo isso é por ele claramente expresso e mantido contra o gnosticismo. No cristianismo de Irineu desdobrou-se pela primeira vez uma ciência teológica própria e independente.

Bem diversa foi a atitude que os teólogos alexandrinos assumiram diante da filosofia e do gnosticismo. Em vários lugares, e sobretudo em Alexandria, no fim do século II e no início do III, despertou o empenho de elaborar cientificamente a matéria cristã e assim mediá-la com a consciência da época. A origem da Escola Catequética de Alexandria nos é desconhecida, mas ela já existia por volta de 190 e logo cresceu em estima e influência. O primeiro mestre que conhecemos por seus escritos é Clemente de Alexandria; mas ele é posto na sombra por Orígenes, o teólogo mais influente dos primeiros séculos. O empenho de ambos era transformar a doutrina eclesiástica da fé em ciência especulativa. É certo que mantiveram a fé e que, à diferença dos gnósticos, tomaram seu ponto de partida na doutrina positiva da igreja. Clemente chegou a chamar a fé um "conhecimento abreviado", estimou-a acima da sabedoria pagã; o cristianismo é caminho de salvação para todos e só pela fé pode ser apropriado; o conteúdo dessa fé é resumido pela igreja em sua confissão, e a fonte do conhecimento da verdade é única e exclusivamente a revelação, a Escritura. Tudo isso é sustentado por Clemente e Orígenes tão firmemente quanto por Irineu e Tertuliano. Mas a diferença começa em que os alexandrinos admitiram uma diferença qualitativa entre fé e ciência. A fé pode ser boa e necessária para os simples; os desenvolvidos não se contentam com ela. A teologia deve visar a desenvolver o conteúdo da fé numa ciência que não repouse sobre a autoridade, mas encontre em si mesma sua garantia e confirmação. A fé deve ser elevada a conhecimento. E o conhecimento deixa aqui de ser meio de repelir e combater a heresia e torna-se fim. A fé conduz apenas a um cristianismo corpóreo; a teologia deve desenvolver da Escritura o cristianismo espiritual. O que Fílon tentara para os judeus, Clemente e Orígenes empreenderam para os cristãos, continuando a obra de Justino Mártir. Para alcançar esse fim tinham naturalmente de conhecer e usar a filosofia; não se prendem a um sistema determinado, mas servem-se de toda a filosofia grega desde Sócrates, especialmente de Platão e da Stoa. E com esse auxílio Orígenes entrega um sistema que sem dúvida testemunha um olhar genial e profunda força de pensamento, mas que repetidamente corre o perigo de fazer a teologia passar a filosofia. A subordinação do Filho, a eternidade da criação, a preexistência das almas, o dualismo de espírito e matéria, a purificação terrena, a restauração de todas as coisas são outros tantos elementos de seu sistema que o puseram em conflito com a fé da igreja e mais tarde acarretaram sua condenação. Com a Escritura tudo isso foi posto em acordo por uma exegese pneumática e alegórica. Mas de fato, nessa teologia de Orígenes, a religião cristã se dissolve em ideias. Ela busca uma transação entre igreja e mundo, fé e ciência, teologia e filosofia, um compromisso entre a loucura da cruz e a sabedoria do mundo, e é assim o tipo mais fino e mais rico daquela teologia de mediação que repetidamente surge na igreja.

4. No início do terceiro século os fundamentos da teologia cristã estavam lançados. A igreja, diante do paganismo e do judaísmo, diante do gnosticismo e do ebionitismo, assumiu deliberadamente posição firme e salvou a independência do cristianismo. Mas surgem então, no século III, toda sorte de disputas internas. A grande luta correu sobre a relação do Logos (e do Espírito) com o Pai, e a heresia a combater era o monarquianismo em suas duas formas, dinamista e modalista. A primeira, sobretudo em Paulo de Samósata, bispo de Antioquia desde 260, procurava manter a unidade de Deus de tal modo que tinha o Filho e o Espírito não por pessoas, mas por atributos, e negava a divindade a Jesus: Jesus era um homem, equipado em medida especial pelo Logos divino e ungido com o Espírito de Deus. Os monarquianos modalistas, ao contrário, ensinavam que a própria Divindade se fizera carne em Cristo; reconheciam assim a divindade de Cristo, mas identificavam Pai e Filho e chegavam ao patripassianismo. Essa opinião foi muito difundida no século III e encontrou muito apoio; foi defendida sobretudo por Sabélio. Contra os monarquianos e antitrinitários escreveram Hipólito, Tertuliano, Novaciano, Dionísio de Alexandria e Eusébio. No fim do século III o dogma da divindade de Cristo e de sua distinção do Pai estava firme: havia três hipóstases no ser divino — Pai, Filho e Espírito. Essa era a fé tanto no Oriente quanto no Ocidente. Os conceitos com que o pensamento se ocupará no século seguinte — mônada, tríade, essência, hipóstase, pessoa — já existem, mas só depois adquirirão seu caráter definido e seu valor fixo. O fundamento foi lançado e demarcaram-se as fronteiras dentro das quais a especulação cristã testará suas forças.

B. A dogmática na Igreja Oriental.

5. O período do século IV ao VIII, no Oriente, é inteiramente tomado pelas controvérsias cristológicas. A consubstancialidade com o Pai do Filho que se fez homem em Cristo foi o dogma por excelência. O interesse religioso aqui em jogo era que o próprio Deus tinha de se fazer homem, para que nós, homens, libertos da morte, fôssemos conduzidos à imortalidade e à visão de Deus e feitos participantes da natureza divina. A divindade de Cristo é a essência do cristianismo. Ninguém compreendeu isso melhor do que Atanásio. Sua história é a de seu século. Para ele todo o cristianismo se concentra na redenção para a vida eterna pelo verdadeiro Filho de Deus. Nisso ele mantém o caráter específico da religião cristã, liberta a doutrina da Trindade das especulações cosmológicas que a ela ainda se prendiam em Orígenes e Tertuliano, e preserva o cristianismo da secularização. Atanásio é um cristólogo: sente profundamente o interesse religioso da divindade de Cristo. Cristo tinha de ser Deus para poder ser nosso Salvador.

Por causa desse significado inteiramente único do dogma cristológico, não vêm à luz sistemas dogmáticos propriamente ditos. Há, porém, uma série de tratados dogmáticos importantes. O arianismo é combatido por Alexandre de Alexandria, por Atanásio em todos os seus escritos, por Basílio, por Gregório Nazianzeno, por Gregório de Nissa e por outros, e condenado nos sínodos de Niceia e de Constantinopla. A divindade e a consubstancialidade do Espírito Santo são defendidas contra Macedônio de Constantinopla pelos mesmos autores e sobretudo por Dídimo, e estabelecidas em Constantinopla, em 381. Já durante a questão da consubstancialidade do Filho surgiu uma segunda, sobre a natureza humana e sua união com a divina. Apolinário reconhecia que o Redentor tinha de ser Deus, mas não podia ser homem perfeito, pois então haveria dois seres e duas pessoas e nenhuma unidade se constituiria; o Logos teria assumido uma carne animada e nela formado ele mesmo o espírito, o eu, o princípio da autoconsciência e da autodeterminação. Foi contraditado por Atanásio e pelos dois Gregórios e condenado em Roma, em 377, e em Constantinopla, em 381. Estabelecidas as duas naturezas, surgiu a divergência sobre a natureza de sua união. Não substancial e essencial, mas moral e relativa, dizia Nestório: há em Cristo duas pessoas, duas hipóstases. Mas encontrou forte adversário em Cirilo de Alexandria e foi condenado em Éfeso, em 431. A opinião diretamente oposta, a de Êutiques, foi combatida por Teodoreto e por Leão Magno em sua carta a Flaviano e condenada em Calcedônia, em 451.

6. O calcedonianismo, porém, não trouxe paz; a confusão aumentou; o monofisismo era forte demais no Oriente. Encontrou é certo um poderoso defensor em Leôncio de Bizâncio, chamado por Harnack o primeiro escolástico, e foi reconhecido no quinto sínodo de Constantinopla, em 551; mas os monofisitas não foram ganhos, nem mesmo pelos esforços de Justiniano I. O conflito monergista e monotelita, surgido no século VII, terminou com a determinação de duas vontades em Cristo no sexto sínodo de Constantinopla, em 680. E até hoje há cristãos monofisitas na Síria: aceitam uma só natureza em Cristo, "não em duas naturezas", rejeitam Calcedônia e reconhecem o chamado sínodo dos ladrões de Éfeso, usam pão fermentado na Ceia, fazem a cruz com um dedo, tomaram da igreja grega e romana a veneração de imagens e de santos, e estão sob o "patriarca de Antioquia". Há ainda monofisitas no Egito, os coptas, na Abissínia e na Armênia.

Mas dogmaticamente não importam apenas os escritos cristológicos; também outros tratados entram em consideração. A doutrina de Deus, seus nomes, atributos e providência foi tratada em ligação com os apologistas, que haviam mantido o conceito cristão de Deus contra o gnosticismo. Partia-se em geral do conhecimento natural de Deus, de Deus como ser simples e imutável, cuja existência podia ser provada psicológica, cosmológica e teleologicamente, e que, embora incognoscível em sua essência, era revelado na Escritura como Triúno. Cosmologia e antropologia foram tratadas especialmente em ligação com Gênesis 1-3, e de modo a evitar o origenismo: Deus criara o mundo pelo Logos segundo o modelo de um mundo espiritual supramundano; o pecado surgiu pelo livre arbítrio e é contrabalançado pela punição e pela redenção. Escreveram-se ainda muitíssimos tratados sobre a virgindade, o monasticismo, a perfeição, o sacerdócio, a ressurreição, bem como muitas apologias contra judeus, pagãos e hereges.

Os mais notáveis para a história da dogmática são as Hypotyposeis, cujos três primeiros livros tratam de Deus Pai e Criador, do Filho e do Espírito, o quarto dos anjos e demônios, o quinto e o sexto da encarnação e o sétimo da criação; as Catequeses de Cirilo, dezoito lições sobre as verdades da fé para os "iluminandos" e cinco para os "recém-iluminados" sobre os mistérios — batismo, unção, eucaristia, liturgia; a Oração catequética de Gregório de Nissa, que contém uma demonstração filosófica das principais verdades do cristianismo, da existência, essência e trindade de Deus, da criação e da queda, da redenção, dos sacramentos e da escatologia; e o compêndio da fé cristã dado por Teodoreto no quinto livro de seu Compêndio das fábulas heréticas. Máximo, o Confessor, tratou as verdades da fé em capítulos breves. De grande significado foram também os cinco escritos sobre os nomes divinos, a hierarquia celeste, a hierarquia eclesiástica e a teologia mística, que vieram à luz no século V e por muito tempo passaram por escritos de Dionísio Areopagita: usaram a filosofia neoplatônica e a mística panteísta para elucidar e elaborar a doutrina cristã, e foram logo altamente estimados, comentados, usados por teólogos, místicos e ascetas, sobretudo na Idade Média, e quase equiparados à Escritura. Todos os elementos do desenvolvimento dogmático foram por fim resumidos e unidos por João Damasceno em sua Fonte do conhecimento, obra em três partes: na primeira, um esboço da filosofia como serva e instrumento da teologia, especialmente da lógica segundo Aristóteles e Porfírio; a segunda, histórica, uma visão geral das heresias até Maomé; a terceira, a Exposição exata da fé ortodoxa, a parte propriamente dogmática, em cem capítulos, na qual ele mesmo reconhece nada dar senão o que os pais ensinaram.

7. Uma história da teologia e da dogmática na igreja oriental depois de Damasceno ainda não existe. O período patrístico, em que se deu a grande formação do dogma, terminou aproximadamente com Justiniano I, ou ainda com Fócio, por volta de 860. Todo esse período do século VI ao IX é de transição. A controvérsia iconoclasta, de 726 a 842, é nele o acontecimento característico. Relíquias e imagens já estavam em uso antes do século V, mas o dogma cristológico veio sustentá-las: a peculiaridade do cristianismo parecia estar em tornar o divino sensível e corporalmente presente. A imagem passou logo de símbolo a portadora e órgão do santo. O paganismo voltava à igreja cristã. Mas a defesa das imagens estava justamente ligada à da liberdade da igreja e aos interesses religiosos ali então presentes. Do outro lado estava o partido imperial, que se opunha às imagens mas com isso queria também sujeitar a igreja ao Estado, deixar ao imperador o estabelecimento do dogma eclesiástico e ir ao encontro de judeus e maometanos. Na veneração das imagens toda a ortodoxia se recolheu: no sensível se quer possuir e fruir o divino. João Damasceno foi um dos mais poderosos defensores dessa veneração, que põe na mais estreita ligação com a encarnação de Deus em Cristo, vendo em sua oposição o judaísmo e o maniqueísmo. A justificação dogmática da veneração das imagens foi o último trabalho da igreja no Oriente.

Entra então o período bizantino, do século IX à tomada de Constantinopla pelos turcos, em 1453. É um tempo de repouso, de impotência produtiva. A igreja grega é a da ortodoxia: apenas conserva; o dogma cristológico é o dogma por excelência. Houve, contudo, até 1453, uma vida erudita intensa. Depois de Damasceno, cuja dogmática é até hoje norma, merecem menção do período bizantino sobretudo Fócio, patriarca de Constantinopla, cuja obra principal reúne excertos eruditos de toda sorte de escritores e que apareceu como dogmático em sua Mistagogia do Espírito Santo; Eutímio Zigabeno, que no século XII escreveu por ordem do imperador uma Panóplia dogmática da fé ortodoxa; e Nicetas Coniates, que a suplementou em seu Tesouro da ortodoxia.

Depois da tomada de Constantinopla pelos turcos, a igreja grega no Oriente teria sido completamente destruída, ou se teria encolhido numa seita, se não houvesse encontrado apoio no império russo, cristianizado no século X, que adotou a fé greco-ortodoxa inteira e sem crítica. Da literatura teológica posterior a esse tempo sabemos ainda muito menos do que do período anterior. As tentativas de união com Roma nos concílios de Lyon, em 1274, e de Florença, em 1439, são-nos conhecidas pelas atas. Não se pode resumir a história dessa literatura numa só palavra — petrificação, ortodoxismo. O centro de gravidade da igreja grega deslocou-se para a Rússia, e a Rússia é ainda jovem, não tem ainda passado e só agora emerge; sua vida literária e erudita apenas começou. Do século passado menciona-se Teófanes Prokopovitch, tido como o pai da teologia sistemática russa; deste século, Filareto e Macário.

C. A dogmática na Igreja latina, romana.

8. Desde o começo a igreja e a teologia no Ocidente trazem um caráter próprio, que já aparece claramente em Tertuliano, Cipriano e Irineu. No Oriente o pensamento dominante na dogmática é que o homem, pelo pecado, está sujeito à corrupção e é agora liberto da morte pelo próprio Deus em Cristo e feito participante da vida, da imortalidade, da natureza divina: as ideias de substância, essência e natureza ocupam ali o primeiro plano e favorecem a imobilidade e o repouso, tanto na doutrina quanto na vida. No Ocidente, ao contrário, a ênfase recai sobre a relação em que o homem está para com Deus — e essa relação é a de um culpado diante de um Deus justo, cujos mandamentos transgrediu. Cristo, porém, por sua obra adquiriu a graça de Deus, o perdão dos pecados, a força para guardar a lei; e isso impele a uma vida ativa, à obediência e à submissão. No Oriente prende-se sobretudo a João, no Ocidente a Paulo. Lá o centro de gravidade está na encarnação, aqui na morte de Cristo; lá a pessoa, aqui a obra de Cristo em primeiro plano. No Oriente importa antes de tudo a natureza divino-humana, a unidade de ambas as naturezas em Cristo; no Ocidente, ao contrário, a distinção de ambas, a posição mediadora que Cristo ocupa entre Deus e o homem. Lá governa o elemento místico e litúrgico, aqui o jurídico e político.

Essa distinção está presente desde o começo; a ruptura era questão de tempo. Com a ascensão de Constantinopla começou a luta aberta. Constantinopla não podia apontar origem apostólica e derivava toda a sua importância da política, da corte imperial. Queria ser uma segunda Roma. O bispo de Constantinopla recebeu, segundo o concílio de 381, "a primazia de honra" depois do bispo de Roma, "por ser ela a nova Roma"; e com isso se satisfez, com um lugar ao lado de Roma. O Oriente queria uma igreja, sim, mas em duas metades, com dois imperadores, duas capitais, dois bispos de igual dignidade. A igreja grega chama a si mesma a ortodoxa: considera-se de posse plena da verdade, repousa e frui. Mas chama-se também anatólica: liga-se a uma terra determinada e com isso se contenta. Muito diverso foi com Roma. Roma não se manteve como cidade política ao lado de Constantinopla, mas se colocou como sedes apostolica muito acima dela. Roma representava e defendia um interesse religioso; cedo baseou suas pretensões e direitos em Mateus 16.18 e exigiu uma posição universal, católica. Há por isso na igreja ocidental uma tendência agressiva, conquistadora do mundo. Essa dupla direção afastou Oriente e Ocidente. Quando a isso vieram somar-se diferenças de costumes, de ritos e sobretudo na confissão do filioque, o cisma foi-se preparando cada vez mais, até consumar-se formalmente em 1054.

Contudo, em muitos respeitos o Ocidente dependia do Oriente. Ali fora fundada primeiro a igreja; ali apareceram os Pais Apostólicos e os apologistas; ali se travou a poderosa luta contra o gnosticismo e o maniqueísmo; ali se estabeleceram nos concílios os dogmas teológicos e cristológicos. Os sínodos surgiram ali primeiro, no século II, na Ásia Menor. Os concílios ecumênicos, de 325 até meados do século IX, foram todos realizados no Oriente e, até o de 879, todos reconhecidos também pela igreja ocidental. Os fundamentos objetivos da doutrina eclesiástica são os mesmos no Oriente e no Ocidente. Desde a segunda metade do século II a teologia oriental penetrou também no Ocidente: Vitorino Retórico, Hilário, Ambrósio, Jerônimo e Rufino transferiram para lá o mundo de pensamento teológico do Oriente. A exegese do Antigo Testamento, a teologia platônica, o monasticismo e o ideal da virgindade entraram no Ocidente e ali se casaram com o espírito ocidental. Ambrósio estudou as obras de Clemente, Orígenes, Dídimo e sobretudo de Basílio, e transferiu para o Ocidente a exegese do Antigo Testamento, o ideal da virgindade no sentido do matrimônio místico da alma com Cristo, e também a doutrina da Trindade e a cristologia dos capadócios. Hilário de Poitiers, durante seu exílio na Ásia Menor, informou os bispos da Gália sobre a luta cristológica no Oriente, defendeu essa doutrina em seus doze livros sobre a Trindade e, em suas obras exegéticas, fez largo uso da exegese típica e alegórica. Vitorino Retórico, muito louvado por Agostinho, introduziu em seus escritos a filosofia neoplatônica na teologia e tornou-se por isso da maior influência sobre Agostinho. Rufino passou muitos anos no Egito e na Palestina e foi especialmente significativo por editar em latim muitas obras gregas. Por fim há de ser mencionado Jerônimo: embora criado em Roma, passou a maior parte da vida na Síria e na Palestina; seu mérito está sobretudo em seus muitos estudos da Escritura; em teologia é pouco independente e muito ansioso quanto à sua ortodoxia; em exegese adere frequentemente ao método alegórico de Fílon e dos alexandrinos; e é acima de tudo um panegirista do ascetismo — defendeu a virgindade de Maria, o mérito do jejum e do celibato, a veneração dos mártires e de suas relíquias, e, na palavra de Lutero, fala sempre de jejum, comida e virgindade e quase nunca de fé, esperança e amor.

9. Todo esse desenvolvimento dogmático do Oriente e do Ocidente culmina em Agostinho. A doutrina da Trindade e a cristologia dos orientais; a doutrina do homem, do pecado, da graça, da fé, da satisfação e do mérito de Tertuliano e Ambrósio; o neoplatonismo de Vitorino; a doutrina de Cipriano sobre a igreja e o sacramento; o ideal monástico de Jerônimo e Hilário — tudo isso foi assumido por Agostinho e por ele, em sua rica experiência de vida, feito propriedade espiritual sua.

Um sistema teológico e dogmático Agostinho não forneceu. A matéria que lhe aflui de todos os lados, da Escritura, da tradição, da filosofia, e que ele amplia e aumenta por sua rica personalidade, não se deixava abarcar de uma só vez nem sistematizar. O principal que produziu nesse sentido é seu Enchiridion sobre a fé, a esperança e o amor, exposição das principais verdades da fé com base no símbolo apostólico. Mas sua doutrina não é isenta de contradições, sobretudo entre sua doutrina da igreja e sua doutrina da graça; Reuter mostrou que essas contradições não se deixam reconciliar e que os pensamentos de Agostinho não se deixam resumir num sistema. E contudo não houve pai da igreja que tenha pensado tão profundamente todos os problemas teológicos e lutado tanto por chegar à unidade. Foi o primeiro que claramente tentou dar-se conta de todas aquelas questões teológicas que mais tarde seriam tratadas nos prolegômenos da dogmática, e que penetram até os últimos problemas psicológicos e noéticos.

O ponto fixo de que parte é o homem, sua autoconsciência, seu anseio inextirpável e sua necessidade de verdade, de felicidade e do bem, que são todos um. Esse ponto de partida é certo e confiável — contra os céticos —, porque o próprio duvidar ainda pressupõe a fé na verdade, e a autoconsciência é o fundamento último da verdade. Agostinho mesmo era consumido por um ardente amor da verdade. Ele admite dois órgãos de conhecimento, o sentido e o intelecto; mas o conhecimento obtido pelo segundo supera de longe o do primeiro. O sensível não é a verdade mesma, é apenas uma imagem dela; a verdade eterna e imutável só se encontra pelo pensar. Ele não nega que possamos também ascender do visível ao invisível, mas ordinariamente não busca o caminho da verdade fora de nós, pela natureza, e sim pelo próprio espírito do homem. Ali encontra, na razão comum a todos, verdades eternas e imutáveis, que por sua vez remetem a Deus e nele se resumem: a verdade suprema, o ser supremo, o único bem, aeterna ratio, principium universorum. Porque Deus é a plena verdade, o ser, o bem, o próprio belo, só nele há repouso para o homem, para seu pensar e seu querer. Conhecimento de si e conhecimento de Deus são os dois polos entre os quais se move todo o seu pensamento. A ciência da natureza não é desprezada, mas é posta em segundo plano. Deum et animam scire cupio! Deus é o sol dos espíritos: não vemos nem conhecemos verdade alguma senão em sua luz e por ela.

Mas a filosofia é, ainda assim, insuficiente — não só pela incapacidade da razão de achar o caminho da verdade, mas sobretudo porque a soberba lhe barra o passo. E a humildade é o único caminho para a vida. Há por isso ainda outro caminho para a verdade: a autoridade, a fé. Ela pressupõe de um lado algum conhecimento, mas de outro busca o conhecimento e aspira ao entendimento. Não só a existência de Deus e a imortalidade da alma, mas também a Trindade, Agostinho tentou provar a partir da natureza e sobretudo do próprio homem. Deus, porém, não é para ele o ser abstrato e sem predicados, mas o Deus vivo, a verdade suprema e o bem supremo, a suprema bem-aventurança e portanto a única e plena satisfação do coração do homem. Todo o pensamento de Agostinho é religioso, teológico: ele vê tudo em Deus. Nessa luz vê também o mundo, que de um lado é um não-ser, uma imagem, perecível, mas de outro, como criação de Deus, uma obra de arte, criada segundo as ideias na consciência de Deus, realizando-as gradualmente, por graus, e formando uma unidade que contém em si a mais rica diversidade; as coisas diferem entre si em grau de ser e assim de verdade e de bondade. É um cosmos, assente em ideia e número, ordem e medida, mantido coeso por uma vontade e uma razão, uma amplissima inmensaque respublica, em que os milagres são apenas o que é contrário à natureza conhecida, e em que o pecado é apenas uma privação, é compensado pela pena e contribui também para a beleza e a harmonia do todo. No belíssimo poema da criação também essa antítese é necessária: o pecado é como os contrastes num discurso, como os barbarismos na língua, como a sombra na pintura. Agostinho procura inserir o mal na ordem do todo; mas com isso não o desculpa. Ele põe o fim das coisas não no bem ético, mas em que a criação seja e se torne cada vez mais uma revelação harmoniosa de todas as virtudes e perfeições de Deus; e a esse fim também o pecado é feito servir pela vontade de Deus.

Sabe-se, além disso, quão profunda e seriamente Agostinho concebeu o pecado. Nondum considerasti, quanti ponderis sit peccatum. Ele o via em torno de si e o sentia: o homem busca a Deus e dele tem necessidade, e não pode nem quer vir a ele. No homem só resta de bom que ele é. A humanidade é uma massa perditionis. O pecado é acima de tudo soberba na alma e concupiscência no corpo. Foi em Adão o ato de todos nós e por isso se tornou a sorte de todos nós. É carência de Deus, privação do bem, não apenas um ato mas um estado, natureza viciada, defeito, indigência, corrupção, um non posse non peccare. As virtudes dos pagãos são vícios esplêndidos. A libertação desse estado só existe pela graça, que já toma seu começo na predestinação, que se revela objetivamente na pessoa e na obra de Cristo, fundamento certo e próprio da fé católica, mas que também deve vir subjetivamente a nós como graça interna e infundir em nós fé e amor.

Mas essa graça, em Agostinho, opera somente dentro dos limites da igreja visível. Esta é nele instituição de salvação, dispensadora da graça, sede da autoridade, garantia da Escritura, morada do amor, fundação do Espírito, o próprio reino de Deus. Agostinho sentiu profundamente a importância da comunidade para a religião: a igreja é a mãe dos crentes. A doutrina da predestinação e da graça não se deixa conciliar com esse conceito de igreja e de sacramento. Multi qui foris videntur intus sunt et multi qui intus videntur foris sunt: há ovelhas fora e lobos dentro do aprisco. Agostinho ensinou também a perseverança dos santos, mas não ousou admitir a certeza subjetiva dela. E precisamente por essa concepção de igreja e de sacramento, a fé e o perdão não puderam vir ao seu direito em sua teologia. Fé e amor, perdão e santificação não são claramente distinguidos. É como se a fé e o perdão fossem apenas provisórios: Agostinho passa deles logo ao amor, à santificação, às boas obras. A comunhão com Deus, a religião, torna-se assim resultado de um processo que a fé, o amor e as boas obras gradualmente produzem. A bem-aventurança, a vida eterna, a visão e a fruição de Deus tornam-se de novo fruto do mérito, e a ascese é um dos meios que fazem o homem alcançar esse fim.

Assim Agostinho se tornou da maior importância para a dogmática posterior. Ele domina os séculos seguintes. Toda reforma volta a ele e a Paulo. Em cada dogma encontrou uma fórmula que é adotada e repetida por todos. Sua influência estende-se a todas as igrejas, direções e seitas: Roma apela para ele em sua doutrina da igreja, do sacramento e da autoridade; a Reforma sentiu-se aparentada a ele na doutrina da predestinação e da graça; a escolástica construiu sobre a sutileza de sua observação, a agudeza de seu intelecto, a força de sua especulação, e Tomás foi chamado optimus interpres S. Augustini; a mística achou matéria em seu neoplatonismo e em seu entusiasmo religioso; a piedade católica romana e a protestante se fortalecem em seus escritos; o ascetismo e o pietismo nele encontram alimento e apoio. Agostinho não pertence a uma igreja, mas a todas as igrejas juntas: é Doctor universalis. Nem mesmo a filosofia pode negligenciá-lo sem dano próprio. E por seu estilo belo e encantador, por sua expressão fina, precisa, altamente individual e no entanto universalmente humana, ele é, mais que qualquer outro pai da igreja, ainda hoje fruível. É o mais cristão e o mais moderno de todos os pais, o que de todos está mais perto de nós. Substituiu a visão de mundo estética pela ética, a clássica pela cristã. Nossos melhores, mais profundos e mais ricos pensamentos em dogmática devemos a ele. Agostinho foi o dogmático da igreja cristã.

10. O agostinianismo foi por mais de um século objeto de renhida luta e manteve os espíritos divididos. Encontrou oposição não só nos pelagianos propriamente ditos — Pelágio, Celéstio, Juliano —, mas também em muitos monges da Gália, entre os quais se nomeiam sobretudo João Cassiano e Vicente de Lérins, que em seu Commonitorium não só indica as marcas da tradição como, ao fim, toma partido contra o agostinianismo estrito. Do lado de Agostinho estiveram sobretudo Próspero de Aquitânia e Fulgêncio de Ruspe. O sínodo de Orange, em 529, deu certa decisão da luta em favor de Agostinho, mas não impediu que as ideias semipelagianas fossem ganhando cada vez mais entrada: a graça preveniente foi aceita, mas a graça irresistível e a predestinação particular não foram decididamente aceitas. No que se segue, pouco restou do agostinianismo.

O papa Gregório Magno, chamado o quarto grande doutor da igreja ao lado de Agostinho, Jerônimo e Ambrósio, nada produziu de novo, mas apropriou-se das ideias dos doutores anteriores e as elaborou de múltiplos modos para a vida. Sua direção é prática e ao mesmo tempo místico-alegórica. Não formou sistema; simplesmente conservou o adquirido, tornou os dogmas prontos para o clero e o leigo e, acima de tudo, esquematizou os vários mediadores e meios — anjos, santos, Cristo, esmolas, missa pelas almas, purgatório, penitência — que tornam possível libertar das penas do pecado a vontade enfraquecida do homem. Com tudo isso trabalhou com cuidado fiel na educação dos novos povos e na formação do clero. Sancionou a religião legal e externa da igreja romana e deu ao catolicismo medieval seu tipo próprio: é a pedra de fecho do velho e a pedra fundamental do novo mundo. Por seus escritos litúrgicos e por seu canto introduziu o culto romano entre os germanos; ao popularizar os dogmas dos pais tornou a doutrina da igreja praticamente utilizável para os incultos germanos pagãos, e promoveu a superstição, o ascetismo e a justiça pelas obras. Com Boécio e Cassiodoro exerceu grande influência sobre a formação e o surgimento da erudição entre os germanos. Cassiodoro discutiu a importância de cada uma das sete artes liberais e deu, em sua obra sobre a instituição das letras divinas, uma metodologia do estudo teológico. Boécio, por suas traduções e explicações da lógica de Aristóteles e da Isagoge de Porfírio, introduziu entre os germanos o conhecimento e o uso da filosofia grega. E Gregório transferiu-lhes a teologia da igreja.

Na ausência de toda cultura e em meio à inquietação das migrações dos povos, não podia haver, no primeiro período, vida científica alguma entre os povos germânicos. Os primeiros traços encontram-se na tradução da Bíblia e na confissão ariana de Úlfilas. Ao fim do século V, godos, vândalos, suevos, burgúndios, hérulos e lombardos já haviam sido cristianizados em sentido ariano; mas Clóvis, com seu reino franco, adotou o cristianismo romano. Patrício é o apóstolo dos irlandeses; a Escócia foi cristianizada por Columba; os anglo-saxões, convertidos por Agostinho e quarenta monges enviados pelo papa Gregório I em 596; os saxões foram trazidos por último, sob Carlos Magno, pelas guerras de 772 a 804. Um dos primeiros dogmáticos é Isidoro de Sevilha, cujos escritos são de conteúdo gramatical, histórico, arqueológico, dogmático, moral e ascético e abrangem tudo o que naquele tempo se podia saber. Ele transfere a erudição clássica e patrística ao seu povo; não é original, mas dá extratos de obras pagãs e cristãs. Seus Três livros de sentenças, excerptados sobretudo de Agostinho e de Gregório, foram modelo para os coletores medievais de sentenças. É um compêndio que entrega o capital teológico dos séculos anteriores ao povo germânico. Mas não se chegou a uma elaboração independente. Carlos Magno tentou pela força introduzir a antiga cultura no reino franco, e não faltaram no período carolíngio homens de grande erudição; mas o colecionar diligente e a reprodução não independente permanecem os traços característicos do período, que começa no século VII e só termina com as cruzadas. Agostinho e Gregório eram as autoridades. O principal desses teólogos carolíngios foi Alcuíno, que combateu o adopcionismo de Elipando de Toledo e Félix de Urgel refutando os erros adopcionistas com os mesmos argumentos antes empregados contra o nestorianismo. O estudo de Agostinho levou Godescalco, no século IX, à confissão da dupla predestinação; encontrou apoio em alguns, mas foi ao mesmo tempo combatido com veemência por Rábano, Hincmaro e Erígena. O filioque veio da Espanha para o reino franco e foi incorporado ao símbolo: já no sínodo de Gentilly, em 767, se tinha a convicção de que era simbólico, e o sínodo de Aachen, em 809, decidiu que pertencia ao símbolo. A veneração das imagens encontrou oposição no reino franco, e o sétimo sínodo ecumênico, que exigia serviço e adoração das imagens, não foi reconhecido; mas depois do século IX a oposição foi-se calando. Finalmente, no período carolíngio também a missa foi desenvolvida, sobretudo por Pascásio Radberto em seu livro sobre o corpo e o sangue do Senhor, contra quem se levantaram Rábano e Ratramno. Merece ainda menção especial João Escoto Erígena, embora pertença mais à filosofia que à teologia. Ele não é o pai da escolástica, mas da teologia especulativa. Alinha-se ao conhecimento de Orígenes e à mística do Pseudo-Dionísio; seu pensamento fundamental é a doutrina neoplatônica da emanação. Em sua obra Da divisão da natureza diz primeiro que teologia e filosofia são propriamente uma só: a reta razão e a verdadeira autoridade não contendem. A fé tem sua verdade, como teologia afirmativa, na Escritura e na tradição; mas a razão, como teologia negativa, despe essa verdade de seus invólucros e nela rastreia a ideia. Assim ele transforma a verdade dogmática num processo cósmico e teogônico: tudo o que é, ele o compreende sob um conceito, a natureza, que em quatro estágios do ser, pelo Logos, se revela no mundo das aparências e retorna a Deus.

11. Depois do século X, o saeculum obscurum, uma vida nova desperta por toda parte. Do mosteiro de Cluny procede uma reforma religiosa, que continua nas ordens mendicantes do século XII. A piedade é concebida como seguimento e imitação da vida de Jesus, especialmente em sua última semana de sofrimento. As cruzadas trazem ideias novas e alargam o horizonte. O poder dos papas cresce e põe como ideal nada menos que o domínio do mundo. A erudição recebe nas universidades um viveiro próprio e entra na teologia como escolástica.

Theologia scholastica, em distinção da theologia positiva, que apresenta os dogmas em forma simples e tética, indica que a matéria dogmática é elaborada segundo um método científico usual nas escolas. A escolástica não é em si outra coisa senão teologia científica. Ela começa onde a teologia positiva acaba: esta se satisfaz quando exprimiu e provou os dogmas; a teologia escolástica parte desses dogmas como de seus principia e tenta, a partir daí, rastrear pelo raciocínio a coerência dos dogmas, penetrar mais fundo no conhecimento da verdade revelada e defendê-la contra toda oposição.

Na Idade Média, porém, a escolástica adquiriu, por várias circunstâncias, um caráter determinado que a pôs em descrédito. Em primeiro lugar, as coisas iam muito mal com o estudo das fontes. A observação não era negada em teoria como princípio do conhecimento, mas de fato entregava-se à tradição e pensava-se que as gerações anteriores já a haviam aplicado suficientemente e a haviam consignado por inteiro nos livros. Física, medicina, psicologia — tudo era estudado a partir de livros. Em teologia a matéria estava toda diante dos olhos na Escritura, mas sobretudo na tradição, nos pais da igreja e nos concílios. A escolástica não se punha crítica e cética diante disso, mas infantilmente crente: a fé era o ponto de partida da escolástica. Buscava-se a matéria dogmática na Escritura e na tradição e aceitava-se sem crítica alguma. Da Escritura, nisso, muitas vezes não se aproveitava muito: hebraico e grego não se conheciam, o senso gramatical e histórico faltava quase por completo, e a matéria se tirava principalmente dos pais.

A isso veio somar-se, em segundo lugar, que o pensamento foi sendo gradualmente treinado pelos escritos lógicos de Aristóteles, para processar dialética e sistematicamente essa matéria dogmática. A princípio só se conheciam de Aristóteles dois escritos lógicos em tradução latina, com a introdução de Porfírio e vários comentários; de Platão, apenas uma porção do Timeu e citações em Agostinho. Só a partir de meados do século XII se tornou plenamente conhecido o Órganon, e no início do XIII também as demais obras sobre metafísica, física, psicologia e ética. Dessa filosofia tomou-se emprestado o método dialético, mas ainda toda sorte de problemas e questões — sobre a relação de fé e razão, teologia e filosofia; sobre a realidade dos conceitos gerais; sobre os atributos de Deus, os milagres, a criação desde a eternidade, a alma. Aristóteles tornou-se precursor de Cristo nas coisas naturais, assim como João Batista nas coisas da graça. Toda espécie de matéria cosmológica, físico-científica, psicológica e filosófica foi assim absorvida pela dogmática. Esta deixou de ser doutrina da fé e tornou-se um sistema de filosofia, uma enciclopédia da erudição, em que se acolhia toda sorte de matéria filosófica mas em que a religião muitas vezes saía perdendo.

E, finalmente, todo esse sistema escolástico era apresentado numa forma que, com o tempo, deu lugar a sérios receios. Não só a matéria era elaborada tão dialeticamente, esmiuçada com tal sutileza e tratada tão juridicamente que a ligação com a vida religiosa da congregação se rompeu por inteiro — ocupava-se de preferência com toda sorte de questões sutis sobre anjos e demônios, céu e inferno. A forma de questionário, em que tudo era vazado, promovia a dúvida e muitas vezes fazia a autoridade e a razão se desligarem por completo e se oporem hostilmente. Mais de uma vez a causa de um dogma parece de todo perdida; mas um simples apelo a um texto, a um pai da igreja, torna tudo bem de novo. Fica, ainda assim, a impressão de que as coisas vão sem esperança com o dogma. Também a língua a longo prazo não era apta a satisfazer com o conteúdo do sistema. O latim bárbaro que se escrevia era, é certo, prova de que se pensava independentemente e se formavam livremente as palavras necessárias às próprias ideias; mas não podia bastar tão logo despertasse de novo, ainda que um pouco, o senso do clássico, da beleza simples.

12. A escolástica procede em três períodos, uma aetas vetus, media e nova. Começa com Anselmo, que ainda vive na ingênua confiança de que a fé pode ser elevada a conhecimento, e o tenta para a existência de Deus em seu Monologium e para a encarnação e a satisfação em seu Cur Deus homo. Não o faz ainda na forma aristotélico-escolástica, mas mais no sentido dos diálogos de Platão; contudo, a especulação escolástica toma nele seu começo. Lombardo, em seus quatro livros de Sentenças, deu não alguns tratados, como Anselmo, mas um manual dogmático e ético completo: forneceu o texto para a teologia escolástica e ele mesmo já faz largo uso da filosofia, para esclarecimento e defesa da verdade. Alexandre de Hales escreveu uma Summa universae theologiae que já é na verdade um comentário à obra de Lombardo; mas, enquanto este raciocina de uma vez até o fim sobre um assunto, Hales veste seus pensamentos em forma dialética e silogística estrita. Com isso o método escolástico ficou estabelecido de uma vez por todas.

Não se deu isso inteiramente sem luta. Muitos tinham objeções ao uso de Aristóteles na teologia. Houve sempre platônicos, que julgavam Platão muito mais concorde com a doutrina da igreja; vários apontaram os perigos da filosofia, e Abelardo parecia um exemplo aterrador. Mas o método escolástico, protegido por homens famosos, ganhou terreno; logo a filosofia de Aristóteles, embora modificada aqui e ali, foi tida como a melhor defesa da doutrina eclesiástica. Do modo mais completo, segundo esse método, a dogmática foi elaborada por Alberto Magno, Tomás de Aquino e Boaventura. Os três escreveram comentários à obra de Lombardo, no que foram depois seguidos por muitos — Fleury em seu tempo já contava duzentos e quarenta e quatro. Além disso Alberto escreveu uma Summa theologiae e uma Summa de creaturis; Tomás, a Summa theologiae e a Summa contra gentiles; Boaventura, um Breviloquium. Os três puseram a escolástica em honra, asseguraram à teologia um lugar de honra entre as ciências e trataram com extraordinária força de pensamento os problemas mais profundos.

Mas a escolástica não conseguiu manter-se naquela altura. Com Duns Escoto a confiança já está abalada. Ele rejeita o nominalismo, mas combate Tomás em toda parte onde ousa e pode — o franciscano de Rada contaria depois nada menos que oitenta e seis pontos de disputa entre ambos, dos quais os principais eram a cognoscibilidade de Deus, a distinção nos atributos divinos, o pecado original, os méritos de Cristo e sobretudo a imaculada conceição de Maria. Escoto é ainda realista, mas é também cético e põe teologia e filosofia lado a lado: a filosofia não alcança Deus, a teologia repousa somente sobre a autoridade, sobre a revelação. Mas foi sobretudo o nominalismo que contribuiu para o declínio da escolástica; havia já surgido com Roscelino e Berengário, mas ganhou terreno especialmente nos séculos XIV e XV. Pedro Aureoli dizia que os universais não existiam objetivamente nas coisas, mas eram apenas pensamentos: o real é sempre individual. Guilherme Durando negou os universais e negou o caráter científico da teologia — ela não é unidade, não pode demonstrar a verdade dos dogmas nem refutar as razões contrárias. Guilherme de Occam atacou tanto a escola de Tomás quanto a de Escoto e comprazia-se em mostrar a incerteza da teologia: existência, unidade e onipotência de Deus, finitude do mundo, imaterialidade da alma, necessidade da revelação — tudo é indemonstrável. Tudo é apenas porque Deus assim o quer. Não há verdades de razão. Deus podia tornar-se homem, mas podia igualmente tornar-se pedra. Platonismo e agostinianismo desaparecem da teologia; tudo se torna arbítrio; a teologia perece no ceticismo. Ainda que nas escolas o realismo em geral permanecesse dominante, não tinha já força criadora alguma: a forma tornou-se mais rígida, a língua mais bárbara, o método mais capcioso; a sutileza substituiu a solidez, a ostentação veio no lugar da seriedade científica, a dogmática degenerou em disputa sem fim. E o nominalismo de Occam ganhou adeptos, dos quais viria o dito de que algo pode ser verdadeiro em teologia e falso em filosofia, até Gabriel Biel, o último escolástico.

13. Uma forma especial de escolástica foi a mística, antes tida como hostil à escolástica, hoje mais bem compreendida em sua natureza e caráter. Os místicos nunca combateram a teologia escolástica: homens como Hugo e Ricardo de São Vítor trataram em seus tratados várias partes da teologia segundo o mesmo método de Lombardo, e inversamente escolásticos como Hales, Alberto, Tomás e Boaventura deixaram muitos escritos místicos. A mística é mesmo incorporada à teologia escolástica. De luta e antagonismo, portanto, não se pode falar. Além disso, igreja e teologia sempre distinguiram entre mística verdadeira e falsa: o neoplatonismo, o gnosticismo, Erígena, Eckhart, Molinos, Böhme foram sempre condenados, ao passo que os escritos do Pseudo-Dionísio, de Alberto e de Boaventura foram sempre louvados e aprovados pela igreja romana. Há, pois, que distinguir entre mística ortodoxa e panteísta.

A primeira não se punha hostil à escolástica, mas dela era distinta. No método: a escolástica seguia o método analítico de Aristóteles e tentava, por raciocínio, subir das coisas finitas a Deus; a mística seguia o método sintético de Platão e tentava, a partir da contemplação superior que a alma alcançava pela graça, obter discernimento das verdades da fé. Na origem: a escolástica nasceu sobretudo do conhecimento dos escritos de Aristóteles e teve por objeto as sentenças de Lombardo; a mística nasceu sobretudo do conhecimento das obras do Pseudo-Dionísio, que encontraram aceitação no Ocidente pela tradução de Erígena. Na essência: a escolástica é a tentativa de obter, com auxílio da filosofia, conhecimento científico da verdade revelada; a teologia mística tinha por objeto a comunhão mística com Deus, concedida a alguns privilegiados por graça especial, e descrevia como e por que caminho a alma podia alcançá-la e que luz, a partir dessa comunhão, se podia derramar sobre as verdades da fé.

A mística nesse sentido teve sempre seus representantes na igreja cristã e ocorre em maior ou menor grau em todos os pais; está estreitissimamente ligada ao ideal monástico e parte do pressuposto de que há não só um conhecimento de Deus pelo intelecto, mas também uma experiência, um encontro, uma comunhão de Deus pelo sentimento. Na Idade Média prendeu-se especialmente a Agostinho, que primeiro sondara a profundeza da vida da alma e a rendera em linguagem inimitável, e ao Pseudo-Dionísio, que indicara os degraus pelos quais a alma podia subir da finitude ao Deus infinito. Por exercícios práticos — ascese, purificação, autotortura, fuga do mundo — ou ainda por reflexão teórica — audição, leitura, oração, cogitação, consideração, meditação —, a alma pode chegar já aqui na terra a um estado de contemplação ou de fruição de Deus. Assim é a mística concebida e descrita nas obras de Bernardo de Claraval, de Hugo e Ricardo de São Vítor, de Boaventura, de Tomás, de Gerson e de Tomás de Kempis. Mas era natural que a mística, pondo assim a ênfase na contemplação, começasse a menoscabar o conhecimento: na fruição do coração perdia-se a clareza da consciência, o valor do saber; caiu muitas vezes sob a influência do neoplatonismo e adquiriu, como em Eckhart, um traço panteísta.

14. Na Idade Média, contudo, não faltaram protestos contra a direção em que igreja e teologia se desenvolviam. Apareceram várias seitas — cátaros, albigenses, os seguidores de Amalrico de Bena, a seita do espírito livre — e renovaram os velhos erros maniqueus e gnósticos. Os valdenses entraram em conflito com Roma por sua doutrina da liberdade da pregação. Em muitos círculos houve um retorno a Agostinho e a Paulo: Bradwardine, em seu escrito Da causa de Deus contra Pelágio, apresentou-se como corajoso defensor da graça de Deus; dele dependeu Wiclef, e de Wiclef, por sua vez, Hus. A doutrina de Wiclef é mais bem conhecida por sua Summa em doze livros, resumida sistematicamente em seu Trialogus, e por seus tratados sobre Cristo e o Anticristo e sobre a igreja. Mesmo dentro da igreja muitos se levantaram desejando uma reforma na cabeça e nos membros: Pedro d'Ailly, Gerson, Nicolau de Clémanges e Nicolau de Cusa defenderam o sistema episcopal, e os concílios reformadores de Pisa, Constança e Basileia se exprimiram nesse espírito — o de Constança declarou que um concílio ecumênico tem sua autoridade imediatamente de Cristo e que também o papa lhe é sujeito. Mas todas essas reformas tiveram pouco êxito: eram crítica do existente a partir do mesmo princípio.

E quando, no século XVI, surgiu a Reforma protestante, a igreja romana logo tomou posição contra ela. Antes do concílio de Trento os principais teólogos foram Caetano, Eck, Cocleu e Sadoleto; distinguem-se também por reconhecerem livremente os defeitos da igreja, e seus escritos são na maior parte polêmicos contra os reformadores — o mais notável é o Enchiridion de Eck, reimpresso quarenta e seis vezes até 1576. A teologia estava em descrédito, sobretudo pelo escárnio dos humanistas; olhava-se para a Idade Média como para um tempo de barbárie gótica; e também os piedosos desejavam mais simplicidade e verdade, um cristianismo mais prático. Era preciso, para os teólogos romanos, alguma coragem, e foi preciso também algum tempo, para chegarem à reflexão e retomarem o fio da escolástica. O concílio de Trento adotou várias decisões de reforma, mas tomou o mais fortemente possível partido contra a Reforma protestante: os dogmas sobre os quais havia disputa — tradição, pecado, livre-arbítrio, justificação, sacramentos — foram formulados aguda e claramente em sentido romano, mas as diferenças internas foram deixadas em paz; a questão do papa e do concílio, do tomismo e do escotismo, não foi discutida ou foi tratada com o maior cuidado possível. Quando em Trento se deliberava sobre lições da Escritura em todos os mosteiros, um abade beneditino propôs acrescentar a isso a proibição da escolástica; mas o dominicano Soto tomou a palavra, refutou as objeções, louvou a utilidade da escolástica e encontrou assentimento geral.

Aos poucos a escolástica foi restaurada em sua honra, mas com modificações. Melchior Cano dedica em sua obra De locis theologicis um livro inteiro à defesa da escolástica e concede que muitos escolásticos se tornaram culpados de vários erros; desaprova esses defeitos, mas defende decididamente o método escolástico, que foi simplificado e despojado do exagero, mas de resto conservado. Uma segunda mudança consistiu em que Lombardo cede cada vez mais lugar a Tomás: na Idade Média as Sentenças haviam sido o manual dogmático, e ainda depois da Reforma vários escreveram comentários a essa obra; mas Caetano produziu um comentário à Summa de Tomás, e outros seguiram seu exemplo, de modo que ao fim do século XVI, na maioria das escolas, Lombardo fora substituído por Tomás — mais puro, mais extenso, mais metódico, penetrando mais fundo nos dogmas. Além disso, a nova escolástica aliou-se muito mais estreitamente à teologia positiva. Na Idade Média a dogmática positiva, isto é, a prova da verdade a partir da Escritura e da tradição, fora quase inteiramente descuidada; agora foi incorporada à dogmática e elaborada com grande erudição. Cano escreveu obra à parte sobre as fontes da prova, que chama loci theologici; por todos os neoescolásticos o estudo da Escritura e da tradição é praticado com zelo; exegese, história da igreja, patrística e arqueologia tornam-se ciências próprias e independentes. A teologia é ainda algo mais e outra coisa que a dogmática. E porque, enfim, os novos escolásticos não gozavam do repouso dos teólogos medievais, mas eram atacados de todos os lados e tinham de defender a doutrina romana em todos os pontos, não restou lugar nem tempo para as questões sutis e as distinções capciosas: forma, método, língua e expressão tornaram-se mais simples; as obras de Canísio, Cano, Petávio e Belarmino são escritas em latim puro e em estilo agradável, e nisso se distinguem favoravelmente das obras dos teólogos medievais. Mas, por mais que se mudasse e melhorasse, o espírito permaneceu o mesmo. Roma não se negou a si mesma e tampouco aprendeu alguma coisa da Reforma. O caráter próprio da doutrina romana veio, aliás, à luz ainda mais claramente depois e por meio da Reforma: pelagianismo e curialismo desenvolveram-se ainda mais depois de Trento e alcançaram vitória completa.

15. A teologia neoescolástica nasceu na Espanha e foi ali cultivada sobretudo nas universidades de Salamanca, Alcalá e Coimbra. Francisco de Vitória, dominicano, foi enviado por sua ordem a Paris, onde estudou especialmente Tomás; de volta à Espanha tornou-se professor em Salamanca e ali disseminou a doutrina do Aquinate, sobre cuja Summa também escreveu um comentário. Entre seus discípulos estiveram os mais famosos teólogos da Espanha, entre eles Melchior Cano e Domingos Soto. A teologia tomista foi cultivada sobretudo pela ordem dos dominicanos, aos quais se juntaram os carmelitas. Mas também a teologia escotista ainda encontrou adesão e defesa no período moderno.

A teologia escolástica foi porém cultivada especialmente pelos jesuítas, que mais que qualquer outra ordem contribuíram para seu renascimento e florescimento. Metodicamente e com talento extraordinário tomaram nas mãos a Contrarreforma. Como polemista contra a doutrina dos protestantes destacou-se entre eles Belarmino, com suas Disputationes sobre as controvérsias da fé cristã. Os teólogos mais famosos da ordem são Pedro Canísio, cuja Summa doctrinae christianae foi publicada quatrocentas vezes em cento e trinta anos; Lessius; Molina, autor da Concórdia do livre-arbítrio com os dons da graça, a presciência divina, a providência, a predestinação e a reprovação; Suárez, com seus comentários e disputas sobre Tomás; Vásquez; e Petávio, com sua obra inacabada sobre os dogmas teológicos.

Os jesuítas seguiam em geral Tomás, mas, em consequência de seu pelagianismo, dele se apartaram na doutrina do pecado, do livre-arbítrio e da graça. Isso foi causa de uma luta prolongada. Começou com Bayo, professor em Lovaina, que expôs a doutrina de Agostinho sobre o pecado e a não liberdade da vontade e rejeitou também a imaculada conceição de Maria; já em 1560 várias de suas teses foram rejeitadas pela Sorbonne, e o papa Pio V condenou setenta e nove proposições suas em 1567. Bayo se retratou. Mas com isso a luta não terminou. Reacendeu-se em 1588 pela obra de Molina. Os tomistas, na maioria dominicanos, atacaram essa obra, especialmente por meio de Bañez, que ensinava uma predeterminação física. Tomistas, agostinianos e jesuítas — molinistas ou congruístas — estiveram anos em campos opostos, e veio à luz uma multidão de escritos polêmicos sobre pecado, livre-arbítrio e graça. A comissão nomeada em Roma foi dissolvida em 1607 sem tomar decisão, e o papa disse que julgaria depois e que até lá nenhuma das partes anatematizasse a outra. Em 1640, quando apareceu o Augustinus de Cornélio Jansênio, bispo de Ipres, a faísca caiu de novo na pólvora, e a luta prosseguiu pelo século XVIII adentro. Os homens de Port-Royal — Arnauld, Pascal, Nicole e outros — puseram-se do lado de Jansênio; mas erudição e eloquência de nada valeram. Em várias bulas, de 1653 a 1713, foram condenados o jansenismo, e nele Agostinho, e até mesmo Paulo. E assim como no que toca ao dogma triunfou o pelagianismo, assim na ética triunfou o probabilismo e nas coisas eclesiásticas o curialismo, isto é, o sistema papal.

16. Mas no início do século XVII o período de florescimento da neoescolástica havia passado. Por toda a Europa levantou-se o espírito racionalista; a filosofia de Bacon e de Descartes deslocou a de Aristóteles. Mesmo teólogos que aceitavam os dogmas escolásticos julgavam necessário outro método — assim Bossuet, o famoso defensor do sistema galicano e combatente dos protestantes, e Fénelon. Os estudos históricos e críticos, praticados sobretudo na França, empurraram para trás a teologia propriamente dita; muitos eruditos maurinos e oratorianos caíram mesmo na incredulidade. Nas escolas a escolástica ainda permaneceu dominante por muito tempo, século XVIII adentro, e as diferentes direções — tomistas, escotistas, molinistas, agostinianos — continuaram lado a lado; mas a escolástica foi recuando cada vez mais para dentro das escolas. Surgem outros partidos, deístas e naturalistas, que ganham a dianteira e exercem influência sobre a teologia romana. A filosofia escolástica foi posta de lado na França por Descartes, na Alemanha por Leibniz e Wolff. Na Áustria a doutrina peripatética foi proibida em 1752, e em 1759 tirou-se aos jesuítas a direção dos estudos teológicos e filosóficos; a ordem foi abolida em 1773 por Clemente XIV. O sistema galicano foi defendido em 1763 por Nicolau de Hontheim e introduzido por José II, em 1781, como direito canônico. As diferenças confessionais foram esquecidas: no lugar da luta contra os protestantes vem a luta contra livres-pensadores e incrédulos. A teologia cai inteiramente sob a influência da filosofia mutante; a Aufklärung teve seu representante em Adam Weishaupt, fundador da ordem dos iluminados; a influência de Kant, de Jacobi e de Schelling se faz notar em vários. O principal teólogo que no século XVIII permaneceu firme contra todos os erros foi Afonso de Ligório, incluído por Pio IX, em 1871, entre os doutores da igreja.

17. Também neste século XIX o racionalismo continuou a princípio a prevalecer em muitos círculos romanos. Na Alemanha havia um grande partido que desejava pôr a constituição e a doutrina da igreja romana em acordo com as exigências do tempo novo. Hermes, professor em Bonn, tentou fazer a revelação e a autoridade repousarem sobre fundamentos racionais e deu à razão, na avaliação do que seja revelação, os mesmos direitos que lhe dera a filosofia wolffiana; teve a princípio muitos adeptos, mas quando Gregório XVI condenou o hermesianismo, em 1835, sua influência declinou. Anton Günther, em Viena, associou-se à proposição de Hegel de que filosofia e teologia especulativa são propriamente uma só: não há dupla verdade nem dupla certeza; mas o crer é o começo e o pressuposto de todo saber, e toda fé, também a fé na revelação, pode passar a saber e ser elevada a evidência. Günther teve igualmente muitos adeptos, mas foi condenado em 1857. Franz von Baader, sob influência de Böhme e de Schelling, buscava salvação não no retorno, mas em novo desenvolvimento do antigo, na renovação dos dogmas, e queria por via teosófica elevar o crer a saber; foi censurado por seu combate ao primado. Frohschammer rejeitou tanto a filosofia escolástica quanto a idealista e tentou edificar a metafísica e a teologia não sobre a razão abstrata, mas sobre o fato concreto, geral e histórico da consciência de Deus na humanidade; teologia e filosofia assim coincidem para ele em conteúdo e diferem apenas em método, e o natural e o sobrenatural não devem ser estritamente separados. Pio IX condenou essa filosofia em 1862, suas obras foram postas no índice e ele mesmo suspenso em 1863; Frohschammer, porém, não se submeteu e continuou a lutar em numerosos escritos pela liberdade da ciência e contra as pretensões do papa. Assim, por Roma, de um lado se combatia a independência da ciência, mas de outro se lhe reconhecia ainda a liberdade relativa. Depois da revolução surgiu na França o tradicionalismo, a saber, a doutrina de que as verdades metafísicas mais altas não se encontram pela razão, mas se obtêm somente da revelação, que desde o primeiro homem se propaga na humanidade pela tradição e se conserva na língua; foi defendida com talento por de Bonald, Lamennais e Bautain, mas não encontrou favor em Roma — Bautain, em 1840, assinou seis teses que lhe foram apresentadas e retratou sua doutrina. E igualmente foi rejeitado o ontologismo de Gerdil, Gioberti, Rosmini, Gratry e Ubaghs, que remontava ao idealismo de Malebranche e derivava toda verdade superior da intuição imediata de Deus e das ideias.

Todas essas condenações provam que Roma, depois do racionalismo do século anterior, foi tomando cada vez mais consciência de si e chegou ao despertar. Depois da revolução houve também um reavivamento da igreja e da teologia romanas. O romantismo beneficiou Roma e fez muitos convertidos. Na França veio uma reação contra a revolução e a incredulidade por Chateaubriand, com seu Gênio do cristianismo, por Joseph de Maistre, Bonald e Lamennais. O puseísmo ou tratarianismo, começado em Oxford em 1833, levou muitos à igreja romana e fortaleceu a direção alta, ritualizante e romanizante na igreja episcopal. A teologia crente que surgiu na Alemanha prendeu-se a princípio, em muitos pontos, a Schleiermacher, cuja doutrina da Escritura, da regeneração, da justificação e da igreja continha muitos elementos que os católicos romanos podiam empregar em seu proveito — e assim aconteceu, com talento e zelo, por Görres, Baader, Döllinger, Klee, Möhler, Hirscher, Drey, Staudenmaier e Kuhn. Os homens dessa direção não eram inteiramente do agrado de Roma e do jesuitismo: buscavam todos a mediação, uma reconciliação do crer e do saber, tentavam provar os dogmas pelo método especulativo e eram demasiado liberais para com os protestantes, fazendo de quando em quando concessões importantes. Mas tinham excelentes porta-vozes e contribuíram muito para o reavivamento da teologia romana.

Ainda assim, a longo prazo essa direção conciliadora e mediadora não satisfez. Aos poucos surgiu a direção neoescolástica. Em 1814 a ordem dos jesuítas foi restaurada, e sua influência sobre o papado cresceu cada vez mais e seu poder se estendeu por todos os países; a "liberdade da ciência" foi por ela combatida com toda a força. Todas as condenações acima resultaram na famosa encíclica de 8 de dezembro de 1864 e no Vaticano de 1870, em que foi pronunciada a infalibilidade do papa. Essa direção neoescolástica foi defendida na Itália pelo filósofo Sanseverino e pelo teólogo Perrone, na Alemanha por Kleutgen e Stöckl. O atual papa pôs-lhe o selo em 4 de agosto de 1879, ao recomendar em sua encíclica Aeterni Patris o estudo de Tomás. E desde então há um esforço poderoso e geral para restaurar a autoridade de Tomás em todos os campos da ciência: doutrina política e jurídica, psicologia e ética, teologia e filosofia são estudadas em seu espírito. Nesse mesmo espírito a dogmática foi tratada por Franzelin, Scheeben, Heinrich e outros.

D. A dogmática na Igreja luterana.

18. Lutero não era uma natureza sistemática e não deixou uma dogmática. Tanto mais foi um espírito original e criador. Redescobriu o cristianismo de Paulo e de Agostinho, entendeu de novo o Evangelho como gloriosa mensagem de graça e de perdão, e restaurou a religião dentro da religião. Com isso tornou-se fecundo para toda a teologia e para toda a dogmática: mesmo os velhos dogmas foram por ele assumidos, mas animados por vida religiosa nova.

Antes que a Reforma luterana tivesse uma confissão, já tinha uma dogmática nos Loci de Melanchthon, de 1521. Essa obra, nascida de uma exposição da Epístola aos Romanos, era prática, simples, soteriológica, sem escolástica alguma, na verdade muito mais uma confissão do que uma dogmática. Nela a Reforma alemã encontrou por um tempo sua unidade. Mas já em 1526 Melanchthon recuou um pouco da confissão da predestinação estrita, e logo começou a desviar-se de Lutero também em outros pontos, sobretudo na doutrina da Ceia. Esse dissenso aparece claramente pela primeira vez nas novas edições dos Loci, de 1535 e 1543, depois na alteração da Augustana, em 1540 e 1542, e por fim no Interim de Leipzig e no conflito adiaforístico por ele causado. Passaram então a opor-se dois partidos: de um lado os adeptos de Melanchthon, os filipistas, sobretudo nas academias de Wittenberg e Leipzig; de outro os gnesioluteranos, especialmente em Weimar e Jena, entre eles Amsdorf e Flácio. As muitas disputas dogmáticas que surgiram nesse primeiro período entre os teólogos luteranos — sobre a lei, com Agrícola; sobre a justificação, com Osiander; sobre a descida de Cristo aos infernos, com Aepino; sobre a obediência ativa; sobre os adiáfora, o sinergismo e o criptocalvinismo, com Melanchthon e os seus; sobre as boas obras, com Major; sobre o pecado original, com Flácio — levaram por fim à Fórmula de Concórdia de 1580, e nela foram resolvidas. Foi obra sobretudo de Jakob Andreae e de Martin Chemnitz, o mais destacado teólogo luterano do século, autor do Exame do Concílio Tridentino, de um tratado sobre as duas naturezas em Cristo e de Loci theologici.

19. Pronto assim o dogma luterano, ele foi tratado e desenvolvido no século XVII de maneira escolástica. Heerbrand e Hafenreffer já fizeram nisso um começo; o tratamento escolástico é continuado por Leonhard Hutter e por Johann Gerhard, em seus nove tomos de Loci communes theologici, e atinge seu ponto alto em Dannhauer, Hülsemann, Calóvio, Quenstedt, Hollaz e König. A força dessa dogmática está em sua objetividade: os dogmas estão prontos, o sujeito a eles se submete sem crítica; são apenas elaborados e aplicados exegética, histórica, polêmica, escolástica e praticamente.

Mas já no século XVII surgiu uma reação contra esse método. O filipismo não fora vencido pela Fórmula de Concórdia e continuou a ter seus adeptos, especialmente em Altdorf e Helmstedt. Georg Calixto, professor em Helmstedt, chegou, por seu estudo de Aristóteles, por seu conhecimento de teólogos romanos e reformados e por sua aversão à ortodoxia escolástica, a uma teologia moderada e irênica. Defendeu uma separação mais aguda de filosofia e teologia e voltou ao cristianismo originário dos quatro primeiros séculos, a fim de buscar, no que é comum a todas as confissões cristãs, uma união de luteranos, reformados e católicos romanos.

20. Calixto encontrou naturalmente muita oposição com seu sincretismo. Mas o século da objetividade havia passado. No século XVIII o sujeito se afirma; retoma seus direitos e se levanta contra o poder do objetivo. No pietismo, de 1700 a 1730, a piedade subjetiva torna-se ponto de partida, e o centro de gravidade desloca-se do objeto para o sujeito. Spener, o pai do pietismo, exerceu por sua pessoa e por suas obras, entre elas os Pia desideria, de 1678, uma influência enorme. Em Halle os principais pietistas foram Francke, Breithaupt, Freylinghausen e Joachim Lange; em Württemberg, com Hedinger, Bengel e Oetinger, o pietismo aliou-se a um realismo bíblico e a expectativas apocalípticas. Naturalmente a ortodoxia agiu com muita hostilidade contra esse pietismo, por exemplo pela boca de Löscher, em Dresden. Mas o tempo da ortodoxia havia passado: entre 1730 e 1760 ela entra em aliança com o pietismo e passa a uma direção afetivo-piedosa, que põe a ênfase na prática da fé, é avessa à sutileza escolástica, é moderada na polêmica e dedica sobretudo suas energias a investigações históricas eruditas.

Aparentado ao pietismo é o herrnhutismo, que igualmente foi uma reação do sentimento contra a ortodoxia intelectual. Mas, enquanto o pietismo quer conduzir à conversão por uma luta de penitência, o herrnhutismo procura consegui-lo pela pregação do querido Salvador. Não quer saber de lei alguma, mas só do Evangelho. A graça aqui afasta a natureza a tal ponto que Jesus chega a substituir o Pai: Jesus é o Criador, o Governador, o Pai, o Jeová do Antigo Testamento. E sua pessoa e seu sofrimento foram por Zinzendorf, sob influência romana, concebidos tão patologicamente que a afinidade entre mística e sensualidade veio muito claramente à luz, especialmente no primeiro período romântico, de 1743 a 1750.

Paralelo ao pietismo corre o racionalismo. Ambos, cada um a seu modo, solaparam a autoridade da ortodoxia; ambos deslocam o centro de gravidade para o sujeito. O racionalismo nasceu pela filosofia de Descartes, Espinosa, Leibniz e Wolff, que fizeram da clareza, da clareza matemática, a norma da verdade. Carpov, professor de matemática em Weimar, tentou demonstrar a doutrina da igreja segundo método matemático. A essa direção wolffiana pertencem ainda Baumgarten, em Halle, e Mosheim, em Göttingen. No essencial esses homens eram ainda ortodoxos, mas o interesse religioso da verdade já não é sentido: a doutrina da fé torna-se objeto de erudição histórica e de demonstração intelectual. Não admira que entre outros wolffianos se adote já uma atitude mais livre diante da doutrina da igreja.

21. Se essa direção racionalista é ainda alimentada e fortalecida de fora pelo deísmo inglês e pela incredulidade francesa, surge na Alemanha, depois de 1760, a Aufklärung, que busca fazer o são entendimento do homem individual dominar sobre toda verdade objetiva. Em toda parte o positivo, o tradicional, o historicamente formado deve ceder ao racional, ao claramente inteligível. Wolff e os seus haviam ainda achado a revelação razoável; mas a Aufklärung era deísta e racionalista. Frederico o Grande foi seu rei, Berlim seu centro, a Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek seu órgão. A dogmática foi elaborada nesse espírito racionalista por Teller, Henke, Eckermann e sobretudo por Wegscheider.

Contra esse racionalismo a ortodoxia assumiu a forma enfraquecida do supranaturalismo. Já não ousava tomar sua posição positiva e teticamente na fé, mas tinha em comum com seus adversários o fundamento da razão; apenas procurava, a partir dali, chegar à revelação, cuja necessidade, possibilidade e realidade defendia. O conteúdo da revelação, porém, foi-se nele encolhendo: os dogmas são tanto quanto possível libertados de tudo o que ofende e, por uma chamada representação bíblica, tornados prontos para a razão. Nesse ponto de vista se colocaram Doederlein, Morus, Knapp e sobretudo Reinhard e Storr; enquanto uma reconciliação de racionalismo e supranaturalismo foi tentada por Tzschirner, Ammon, Schott e especialmente por Bretschneider.

22. A peculiaridade da dogmática luterana neste século consiste em que ela está quase inteiramente sob a influência da filosofia. No século anterior havia, pelo racionalismo, perdido quase por completo seu princípio, seu método e seu conteúdo: tornara-se um compêndio de pensamentos racionais sobre Deus, a virtude e a imortalidade. Kant foi o primeiro que, por sua aguda crítica da razão pura, solapou inteiramente esse fundamento racional da dogmática. Sua crítica foi desencorajadora, mesmo destrutiva, para o racionalismo e o eudemonismo da Aufklärung. Mas pela razão prática ele tenta recuperar o que perdeu pela razão pura: o imperativo categórico, a consciência moral, dá-nos o direito de postular a existência de Deus, a liberdade e a imortalidade. A dogmática é edificada sobre a moral, a religião torna-se meio para a virtude, Deus um socorro de emergência para o homem. O conteúdo da religião e da dogmática, desenvolvido por Kant em sua Religião nos limites da simples razão, é puramente racionalista; Kant está ainda inteiramente no século XVIII, o histórico e positivo não tem valor para ele, ele isola o homem de toda influência, e só a religião autônoma da razão é a verdadeira religião. Mas por sua crítica da razão, por seu apelo à consciência moral, por sua concepção estrita da moralidade — que o levou até a falar do mal radical no homem e da necessidade de uma espécie de regeneração —, ele foi de grande influência sobre a teologia. Não só a destinação moral do homem, mas também a impotência da razão para alcançar o supra-sensível tornou-se argumento para a necessidade da revelação, da fé e da autoridade. E nesse espírito kantiano trabalharam na dogmática Tieftrunk, Stäudlin e outros.

23. Outra reação contra a Aufklärung veio do lado do sentimento. A sentimentalidade foi um traço característico da segunda metade do século XVIII. Assim como na Inglaterra Shaftesbury se levantou contra Hume e na França Rousseau contra Voltaire, também na Alemanha o sentimento, com homens como Hamann, Claudius, Lavater, Herder e Jacobi, afirmou seus direitos contra o frio racionalismo. Todos partem da experiência imediata, da força e da intimidade do ânimo: essa é a essência mais profunda, o humano no homem; sobre ela repousa a religião, dela brota a fé, aqui o homem percebe o divino. E daqui ele vê e descobre o divino em torno de si, na natureza, na história e sobretudo em Cristo, o mais humano de todos os homens. O conteúdo da fé diferia entre esses homens, tanto mais que eram avessos a sistema; mas o fundamento da fé é em todos o mesmo: sentimento, fé, razão, inspiração, entusiasmo, experiência — como quer que se chame — é em todos fundamento e norma da verdade. Jacobi, contra a crítica que avançava, apontou o sentido imediato, no qual amanhecia para o homem outra objetividade, mais alta; chegou assim a um consequente dualismo de cabeça e coração, de filosofia e fé, de mundo sensível e mundo espiritual. Na dogmática esse dualismo foi aplicado por de Wette e, depois dele, por Hase. Comum a todos é a separação entre crer e saber, entre a visão estética (ética, religiosa) e a intelectual (empírica) do mundo, entre mundo ideal e mundo sensível. A verdade exigida pelo sentimento ou pela consciência religiosa é inviolável para o intelecto: pertence a outro mundo, não observável.

24. Estreitamente aparentada a essa direção está a teologia de Schleiermacher. Em seus Discursos sobre a religião, de 1799, e nos Monólogos, de 1800, ele está inteiramente sob a influência do romantismo. A religião é sentimento, sentimento do universo, sentido do infinito, a direção do ânimo para o eterno, tal como o conhecimento intuitivo de Deus em Espinosa. Schleiermacher toma assim também seu ponto de vista no sujeito, mas não no intelecto nem na vontade, e sim no sentimento. Deus é para ele a unidade do mundo, não objeto do pensamento — pois o pensamento se move sempre em oposições —, mas apenas fruível no sentimento; e essa fruição de Deus no sentimento é a religião. Mas a isso Schleiermacher liga logo a ideia de comunidade: da essência da religião brota o anseio pela comunidade, pela troca do que foi fruído. As religiões diferem conforme o infinito determina diferentemente o sentimento e forma diferentemente a comunidade. Em sua Glaubenslehre — sua "doutrina da fé" — os pensamentos filosóficos fundamentais são os mesmos, mas o sentimento é aqui mais precisamente definido como dependência absoluta, Deus concebido como causalidade absoluta e o cristianismo definido como religião ética, na qual tudo está em relação com a redenção por Cristo. Os dogmas são e permanecem, assim, descrições de estados subjetivos de ânimo, mas de estados determinados pela comunidade cristã e portanto pela pessoa de Cristo. Por essas três ideias — a autoconsciência imediata como fonte da religião, a comunidade como forma necessária de existência da religião, e a pessoa de Cristo como centro do cristianismo — Schleiermacher tornou-se de influência incalculável. Toda a teologia posterior depende dele; sua dogmática não foi assumida por ninguém, e no entanto ele fez sentir sua influência em todas as direções, liberal, mediadora, confessional, e em todas as igrejas, romana, luterana e reformada.

Os mais aparentados a ele são os chamados teólogos da mediação — Nitzsch, Twesten, Neander, Julius Müller, Rothe, Dorner, Martensen, Schenkel. O traço distintivo e comum de todos esses homens é o ponto de partida subjetivo: não partem de uma autoridade externa, mas do ânimo, da consciência religiosa, e aceitam a verdade primeiro como conteúdo da experiência cristã subjetiva. Mas não param aí: querem ir além de Schleiermacher e, para isso, ligam seu ponto de partida religioso subjetivo à especulação hegeliana. Os elementos agnósticos de Schleiermacher, que ele tinha em comum com Kant, foram trocados pela doutrina hegeliana da cognoscibilidade do Absoluto. A verdade, aceita primeiro como conteúdo da experiência religiosa, tinha depois de ser compreendida pela via da especulação como necessária ao pensamento e legitimada diante do tribunal da filosofia. Assim se reconciliariam e se satisfariam mutuamente fé e ciência, o natural e o positivo, igreja e cultura, autoridade da Escritura e crítica, visão de mundo antiga e moderna.

25. Esse fora, aliás, também o intento de Hegel. Hegel é o idealista mais consequente: o ponto de partida cartesiano chega aqui às suas últimas consequências. O pensar produz o ser; tudo o que é, é portanto lógico, racional. Mas ele liga esse pensamento ao do devir, da evolução: a realização do pensamento no ser se dá gradualmente, de estágio em estágio. No homem esse pensar chega primeiro à consciência. Mas no estágio mais baixo, como espírito natural e finito, o homem se sente separado de Deus. Na religião, porém, e especialmente na cristã, ele vê essa separação abolida: Deus e o homem são um. Essa unidade de Deus e do homem é a essência de toda religião, mas na religião ela não é expressa adequadamente — ali está envolta em formas de representação e de sentimento. Só na filosofia a ideia chega a seu conceito adequado: ela é o saber absoluto, o saber que a humanidade tem de Deus, o saber que Deus tem de si mesmo. Segundo esses pensamentos filosóficos Hegel procurou explicar todos os dogmas cristãos, a trindade, a encarnação, a reconciliação.

Muitos creram na reconciliação hegeliana de teologia e filosofia; a chamada ala direita — Marheineke, Daub, Göschel, Rosenkranz — reelaborou os dogmas em seu espírito e procurou unir especulação hegeliana e teologia ortodoxa. Mas aos poucos veio a público que perigo se ocultava na filosofia hegeliana para os dogmas cristãos. Feuerbach, Strauss, Vatke e Bruno Bauer tiraram as consequências e abandonaram a representação, que é a veste da religião, para reter apenas o conceito abstrato. Strauss via nas narrativas evangélicas condensações simbólicas inconscientes da verdade ideal de que o Infinito se derrama no finito — não porém num único homem, mas na humanidade: esta é o verdadeiro filho de Deus, o Cristo ideal. Em sua Glaubenslehre, de 1840, tenta mostrar que a história de cada dogma é ao mesmo tempo sua crítica e sua dissolução. Religião e filosofia diferem na forma, mas por isso também no conteúdo: a filosofia substitui a religião. Os neo-hegelianos, Biedermann e Pfleiderer, tornaram-se mais cautelosos, mas assumiram de Hegel que o pensar está acima da consciência religiosa e tem por tarefa despir a representação religiosa de sua forma temporal e sensível, apresentá-la em seu núcleo ideal e pô-la em acordo com nossa visão de mundo inteira.

26. Enquanto a filosofia de Hegel levava assim à rejeição do cristianismo, tornou-se sabido, sobretudo a partir de 1830, que Schelling havia gradualmente abandonado o sistema da identidade e desenvolvia agora uma filosofia positiva, na qual não a necessidade mas a liberdade prevalecia e na qual a vontade e o ato tomavam o lugar do processo lógico. Como Hamann e Lavater no século anterior, Schelling chegou aos poucos à convicção de que há ainda outro ser e outra vida, mais profundos que os do entendimento lógico: os da vontade, do ato, da liberdade. Mas toda vida é devir, uma interação de opostos. Assim é em Deus e assim é no mundo. Em Deus há primeiro o fundo escuro da natureza, depois o entendimento, e de ambos nasce a vontade. No mundo há primeiro o caos, depois o espírito, em seguida o cosmos. E assim na religião há primeiro o impulso natural no paganismo, depois a Palavra ou a Luz em Cristo, e por fim o ser de Deus em tudo. Sob a influência de Böhme e de Oetinger, Schelling ligou a isso toda sorte de especulações teosóficas.

A teosofia sempre se ocupa de dois problemas: a transição entre Deus e mundo e a transição entre alma e corpo. O primeiro é resolvido buscando-se o fundamento do mundo na natureza de Deus e identificando-se, ou pelo menos paralelizando-se, a teogonia, o processo trinitário em Deus, com a cosmogonia: o próprio Deus só chega ao pleno desdobramento de sua essência no processo do mundo e por ele. O segundo é resolvido do mesmo modo, pela ideia da corporeidade espiritual: o espiritual, Deus, a alma, não é em sentido estrito incorpóreo — não é material, mas supramaterial —, e assim o espírito tem por sua vez a tarefa de espiritualizar o corpo, o mundo, cuja materialidade grosseira é consequência do pecado. Essa especulação teosófica de Schelling encontrou aceitação na teologia: Baader, Görres, Stahl, Rothe, Delitzsch, Lange, Kurtz e muitos outros sofreram, em maior ou menor grau, sua influência.

27. Era natural que se levantasse, do lado da ortodoxia eclesiástica, resistência a essa múltipla mistura de teologia e filosofia. À teologia da mediação tinha de seguir-se uma da separação. O estudo da confissão e a dogmática histórica de de Wette, Bretschneider, Hase, Schmid e Schneckenburger beneficiaram a consciência confessional. Velhos luteranos como Guericke e Rudelbach, neoluteranos como Harms, Hengstenberg, Philippi, Vilmar, Kliefoth, Thomasius e Hofmann, homens da União positiva como Kahnis, Luthardt, Zöckler e Frank trabalharam na restauração da velha teologia luterana. Mas também eles eram filhos de seu tempo. O pietismo continuou a atuar em homens como Hengstenberg e Tholuck. Vilmar, Löhe e outros não estavam livres, em sua concepção de igreja, sacramento e ofício, de exagero romano; os teólogos do sul da Alemanha, em Erlangen, e também os teólogos positivos do presente, situam-se mais livremente diante da confissão e se desviam em pontos importantes — cristologia, satisfação, Escritura — da velha dogmática luterana. Mesmo um luterano tão ortodoxo como Philippi parte, como Hofmann e Frank, da consciência subjetiva de fé, e assim tomou de empréstimo a Schleiermacher seu ponto de partida.

Ao lado desses teólogos confessionais estão os teólogos bíblicos, entre os quais Beck é o principal, que querem construir o sistema dogmático nem a partir da consciência crente nem a partir da confissão, mas só a partir da Escritura. Mas Beck concebia essa Escritura no sentido daquela teosofia mística que desde Oetinger se praticava na Suábia, como um sistema de verdades celestes que eram um decalque de poderes celestes e os implantavam, pela operação do Espírito Santo, na alma do homem; e chegou por isso muitas vezes a uma exegese bastante arbitrária e a um sistema que, embora profundo e original, não se pode absolver de um ascetismo e um individualismo unilaterais.

28. De outro lado ainda surgiu oposição à mistura de filosofia e teologia. Liebmann, em sua obra Kant e os epígonos, e F. A. Lange, em sua História do materialismo, deram, no domínio filosófico, a palavra de ordem: de volta a Kant. A especulação de Hegel e de Schelling não levara a nada; o entendimento tinha de tomar de novo consciência de sua finitude e de sua limitação e não presumir ter conhecimento algum do supra-sensível. Pode restar, ao lado disso, lugar para a fé e para a imaginação, mas a razão está limitada ao que é sensivelmente perceptível.

Esse ponto de vista neokantiano foi adotado no domínio dogmático por Lipsius e por Ritschl — com diferença não pequena, porém. Lipsius reconhece, Ritschl nega, o elemento místico na religião. Lipsius considera a religião um poder próprio e independente; Ritschl a deixa absorver-se quase inteiramente no ético. Lipsius considera a religião em primeiro lugar assunto do indivíduo; Ritschl, da comunidade. Lipsius ainda tenta pôr as representações religiosas em acordo com os resultados da ciência; Ritschl separa teologia e ciência inteira e completamente. Para Lipsius o conteúdo principal da revelação é a graça de Deus em Cristo; para Ritschl, o Reino de Deus fundado por Cristo. Mas ambos se alinham à aversão de Kant à metafísica e à sua doutrina da limitação da capacidade cognitiva humana.

Por isso Ritschl quer uma separação completa entre metafísica — filosofia, ciência — e religião — teologia. Religião e teologia não pronunciam juízos de ser, mas juízos de valor: nada dizem sobre a essência incognoscível das coisas, mas exprimem apenas o valor e a significação que elas têm para nós. Por tal separação Ritschl tenta assegurar à religião e à teologia um lugar próprio, inatacável para a ciência. A religião não repousa sobre a ciência, mas se funda num princípio próprio, na natureza moral do homem. Tem um conteúdo próprio, a saber, não juízos de ser, mas juízos de valor, isto é, afirmações puramente religioso-éticas. E tem um fim próprio, a saber, tornar o homem, em sentido ético, independente do mundo. A teologia de Ritschl tem hoje grande influência, não só na Alemanha como muito além dela. Várias causas explicam sua ascensão: a aparente reconciliação de crer e saber, a concepção religioso-ética da religião, a ligação com a revelação de Deus em Cristo, com a Escritura e com a teologia de Lutero e Melanchthon, a rejeição de toda teologia natural e da dogmática escolástica. Uma multidão de homens — Herrmann, Kaftan, Häring, Harnack, Kattenbusch, Lobstein e outros — a ela aderiram e aplicam seus princípios a todo o campo da ciência teológica. Contudo, a doutrina ritschliana da capacidade cognitiva, a separação completa de teologia e metafísica, a concepção moralista da religião, a restrição da religião a juízos de valor são insatisfatórias. Também essa direção não poderá, a longo prazo, satisfazer nem a cabeça nem o coração.

E. A dogmática na Igreja reformada.

29. Com toda a concordância, mesmo até e inclusive a confissão da predestinação, houve desde o começo uma diferença importante entre a Reforma alemã e a suíça. A diferença de país e de povo, onde Lutero e Zuínglio apareceram, a diferença de origem, de formação, de caráter e de experiências de vida contribuíram para que os dois divergissem. Pouco tempo durou até que viesse à luz que ambos os reformadores eram de espírito diverso. Em 1529 a paz foi assinada em Marburgo, mas só no papel. E quando Zuínglio caiu e Calvino, apesar de sua alta estima por Lutero e de sua aproximação na doutrina da Ceia, escolheu contudo, em princípio, o lado de Zuínglio, o cisma entre o protestantismo luterano e o reformado tornou-se cada vez maior e um fato que já não se podia desfazer.

As investigações históricas deste século sobre a distinção característica de ambos demonstraram claramente que há em sua base uma diferença de princípio. Antes limitavam-se a somar as diferenças dogmáticas, sem reduzi-las a um princípio comum; mas Max Goebel forneceu a primeira tentativa de explicação histórica e principiológica da distinção entre os dois, e desde então vários continuaram essa investigação. A distinção parece ainda mais bem representada pelo fato de que o reformado é teológico e o luterano antropológico. O reformado não fica parado na história, mas sobe até a ideia, até o decreto eterno de Deus; o luterano toma seu ponto de vista no meio da história da salvação e não tem necessidade de penetrar mais fundo no conselho de Deus. Com o reformado, portanto, a eleição é o cor ecclesiae; com os luteranos, a justificação é o articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae. Ali a primeira e principal questão é: como Deus chega à sua honra? aqui, ao contrário: como o homem chega à salvação? Ali a luta se dirige sobretudo contra o paganismo, a idolatria; aqui, contra o judaísmo, a justiça pelas obras. O reformado não tem repouso enquanto não rastreou tudo de volta ao decreto de Deus e não descobriu o porquê das coisas, e enquanto não fez tudo, para a frente, servir à honra de Deus; o luterano se satisfaz com o que e frui a salvação de que participa pela fé. Dessa diferença de princípio explicam-se facilmente as controvérsias dogmáticas na doutrina da imagem de Deus, do pecado original, da pessoa de Cristo, da ordem da salvação, dos sacramentos, do governo eclesiástico e da ética.

A história da dogmática reformada é muito mais difícil de descrever que a da luterana. A igreja reformada não está limitada a um país e a um povo, mas se expandiu em países diversos e entre povos diversos. O tipo reformado não está fixado numa confissão, mas achou expressão em numerosas confissões. O desenvolvimento dogmático — na doutrina da eleição, da justificação, da regeneração, dos sacramentos — foi na igreja reformada muito mais rico e mais multiforme que na luterana. E, por fim, a história da dogmática reformada foi muito menos praticada que a das outras igrejas: há aqui ainda um campo aberto à pesquisa.

30. A dogmática reformada começa com Zuínglio. Nele as ideias fundamentais já estão presentes: o ponto de partida teológico, a dependência absoluta do homem, a predestinação, a natureza humana de Cristo, a concepção espiritual de igreja e sacramento, a tendência ética e política da Reforma. Mas Zuínglio tem ainda muitas lacunas em sua teologia: por seu humanismo concebe o pecado e a reconciliação de modo demasiado superficial; por seu espiritualismo opõe abstratamente, de modo dualista, Deus e homem, justiça divina e humana, sinal e coisa significada no sacramento; sua clareza e lucidez de pensamento não compensam a falta de profundidade; e ele não chega a um sistema minimamente arredondado e coerente. Zuínglio apenas desenhou as linhas gerais dentro das quais se moveriam depois as diferentes direções nas igrejas reformadas.

Só o espírito organizador e sistemático de Calvino deu à Reforma suíça sua doutrina delineada e sua organização firme. Sua teologia já estava fixada na primeira edição da Institutio, em 1536: há ampliação e desenvolvimento, mas não mudança. Calvino difere de Zuínglio em que bane todas as ideias filosóficas e humanistas e se alinha o mais estritamente possível à Escritura. Além disso, mantém melhor a objetividade da religião cristã, do pacto de Deus, da pessoa e da obra de Cristo, da Escritura, da igreja e do sacramento, e por isso resiste mais fortemente aos anabatistas. Supera ainda tanto a antítese luterana entre o espiritual e o mundano quanto a de Zuínglio entre carne e espírito, e é por isso rigorista, mas em nenhum aspecto ascético. Finalmente, traz unidade e sistema a seus pensamentos, coisa que nem Lutero nem Zuínglio conseguiram, e ao fazê-lo nunca esquece a ligação com a vida cristã. Calvino soube gradualmente ganhar toda a Suíça para si, também na questão da doutrina da Ceia, pelo Consensus Tigurinus de 1549, e na da predestinação. Sua Institutio foi logo estudada em toda parte. Inteiramente em seu espírito a dogmática foi tratada na Suíça, no século XVI, por Beza, Pedro Mártir Vermígli, Musculus e Aretius.

Da Suíça a teologia de Calvino difundiu-se na França, cuja Reforma ele se tornou a alma. Sua doutrina foi geralmente aceita, suas obras traduzidas e divulgadas; buscavam-lhe conselho e consolo, e muitos iam a Genebra formar-se para o ministério da palavra. Os principais teólogos na França naquele século foram Chandieu, Marlorat e du Plessis Mornay.

Pelos emigrantes para a Frísia Oriental, o Palatinado, Cleves e vindos do Sul, o calvinismo penetrou também nos Países Baixos. A Institutio já era traduzida em holandês em 1560. Dathenus, de Brès, Marnix e outros eram calvinistas estritos; muitos buscavam sua formação em Genebra e Heidelberg. Mas já em 1575 fundou-se a academia de Leiden e, em 1585, a de Franeker. O trabalho teológico consistiu principalmente em polêmica contra Roma e contra os anabatistas, mas vários manuais dogmáticos já vieram à luz — de Gellius Snecanus, de Bastingius, a quem se deve a primeira exposição do Catecismo, de Trelcatius pai e de Junius.

O calvinismo encontrou aceitação também na Inglaterra e na Escócia, onde entrou em conflito não só com Roma, mas também com a Reforma empreendida de cima por Henrique VIII e Isabel. Os reformados que fugiram para o continente sob Maria ali travaram conhecimento com a doutrina de Calvino, Bullinger, Beza e Mártir e, ao voltar, escandalizaram-se logo com as meias-medidas da Reforma inglesa. A diferença dizia respeito, a princípio, às cerimônias; na doutrina, puritanos e anglicanos estavam originalmente de acordo. A teologia inglesa, até o início do século XVII, teve caráter decididamente calvinista: nas universidades ensinava-se a Institutio de Calvino, e mesmo a forma episcopal de governo era defendida por Cranmer, Jewel e Hooker não como a única verdadeira, mas só no interesse do bem-estar da igreja. Mas quando, a partir de 1567, os não conformistas se separaram, o conflito estendeu-se a todo o governo eclesiástico; o mais poderoso defensor da forma presbiteriana foi Thomas Cartwright, professor em Cambridge, deposto em 1570. E ao fim do século acrescentou-se ainda uma diferença de doutrina: William Perkins e William Whitaker, professores em Cambridge, tentaram ainda manter a predestinação nos nove Artigos de Lambeth, mas o sentimento alto-eclesiástico e pelagiano prevaleceu cada vez mais. Na Escócia, ao contrário, o calvinismo foi introduzido com força por John Knox e afinal reconhecido também pelo rei, em 1581.

Na Alemanha a igreja e a teologia reformadas foram menos dependentes de Calvino. O Catecismo de Heidelberg e a teologia de Pareus, Ursino, Olevianus, Hyperius e à Lasco mostram em muitos respeitos um caráter próprio. Hofstede de Groot, Ebrard e Heppe explicaram essa peculiaridade a partir de Melanchthon, mas essa representação é a-histórica e foi suficientemente refutada; muito melhor a derivam Gooszen e Van 't Hooft do sucessor de Zuínglio em Zurique, Bullinger. Contudo, entre a teologia de Calvino e a de Bullinger não há diferença material alguma, mas apenas formal e metodológica: é a distinção entre o supra e o infralapsarianismo, entre o ponto de partida estritamente teológico e o federalista, distinção que sempre existiu nas igrejas reformadas e foi de ambos os lados reconhecida como reformada.

31. Já ao fim do século XVI surgiu o método escolástico na teologia reformada. O tratamento simples dos dogmas, como o encontramos em Calvino, não podia a longo prazo bastar. Em Mártir, Sadeel e Junius já encontramos familiaridade com as questões tratadas na Idade Média pelos escolásticos. Especialmente Zanchius, em suas obras sobre os três Elohim, sobre a natureza de Deus, sobre as obras de Deus e sobre a encarnação, e Polanus, em seu Syntagma theologiae, conhecem excelentemente a teologia dos pais e dos escolásticos. De maneira escolástica a dogmática é então tratada nas igrejas reformadas, neste século, nos Países Baixos por Trelcatius filho, Maccovius, Gomarus e Voetius, e alhures sobretudo por Alsted.

O método escolástico, porém, não encontrou de modo algum assentimento geral. Maccovius recebeu no Sínodo de Dordt a admoestação de que falasse com o Espírito Santo, e não com Belarmino ou Suárez. A disputa de Maresius contra Voetius teve fundamento no mesmo método escolástico: Maresius chamou Voetius de teólogo paradoxal, contou nada menos que seiscentos paradoxos em sua teologia e acusou-o especialmente de derivar o lago asfáltico dos escolásticos para dentro da fonte de Siloé. Mas, mesmo onde se guardavam da terminologia filosófica, das distinções escolásticas e das questões escolásticas vãs, e se apresentava a verdade em forma mais simples, o século XVII foi ainda assim o século da objetividade. A matéria estava pronta, só era preciso ordená-la. A tradição tornou-se um poder: não só a Escritura, mas também a confissão, e até mesmo o tratamento dogmático, receberam autoridade inatacável e fizeram Camero queixar-se de que na doutrina não se podia desviar "dos que parecem ser colunas" sem ser perseguido.

Os principais teólogos nos Países Baixos foram Polyander, Walaeus, Thysius e Rivetus, autores da Synopsis purioris theologiae, e ainda Trigland e Hoornbeek em Leiden; Maccovius, Amésio, Cloppenburg e Bogerman em Franeker; Gomarus, Alting e Maresius em Groningen; Voetius, Essenius e Mastricht em Utrecht; e fora deles Wollebius em Basileia, Francisco Turretini e Pictet em Genebra, Heidegger em Zurique, e sobretudo os teólogos de Saumur, Camero, Amyraut, Cappel e Placaeus.

Na Inglaterra, no século XVII, ganharam terreno a direção alta e a arminiana, que encontraram apoio nos Stuarts, nos arcebispos e na nobreza. De outro lado houve ainda muitos teólogos na igreja anglicana que defendiam o episcopalismo mas permaneciam fiéis ao calvinismo, como Whitgift, arcebispo de Cantuária, os delegados ao Sínodo de Dordt e homens como Usher e Pearson. Entre os puritanos desse período conhecem-se sobretudo Twisse, Gataker, Baxter e Owen. O arminianismo teve na Inglaterra, tanto entre os dissidentes quanto entre os anglicanos, grande influência; e ao lado dele foi transferido da França também o amiraldismo. Ambos muitas vezes confluíram e acharam sua união na teoria neonomiana, que deu ocasião a uma luta importante e longa: os neonomianos punham o fundamento da justificação na fé, como o arminiano John Goodwin, o amigo de Milton, e Richard Baxter; diante deles estavam outros, chamados erradamente antinomianos, quando na verdade deviam chamar-se antineonomianos, que punham o fundamento da justificação somente na justiça imputada de Cristo. De modo geral, porém, o centro de gravidade da teologia inglesa não estava no dogmático, mas nos estudos bíblicos, histórico-eclesiásticos, patrísticos, arqueológicos e práticos; as relações políticas e eclesiásticas deram naturalmente ocasião a isso.

Mais rica e mais poderosa, proporcionalmente, foi a vida dogmática na Escócia, onde o calvinismo achara solo apropriado e foi desenvolvido em espírito estrito e positivo. Os principais teólogos desse período foram Rollock, desde 1583 principal da universidade de Edimburgo, autor de um tratado sobre o chamado eficaz; Boyd de Trochrigg, célebre por seu comentário à carta aos Efésios, que não apenas expõe mas é um verdadeiro tesouro de excursos dogmáticos sobre trindade, predestinação, encarnação, pecado e batismo; David Calderwood, que escreveu seu Altare damascenum contra o episcopado anglicano; Samuel Rutherford, professor em St. Andrews, conhecido não só por suas Cartas mas por muitas outras obras; e George Gillespie. Esse desenvolvimento positivo da dogmática reformada atinge em certo sentido seu ponto alto — e ao mesmo tempo seu ponto final — nos cânones de Dordt de 1618-19, na confissão e no catecismo de Westminster de 1646, no Consensus Helveticus de 1675 e nos artigos de Walcheren de 1693.

32. Mas já no século XVII estavam presentes os princípios que solaparam a teologia reformada e a levaram ao declínio. No século da Reforma não houve apenas uma reforma luterana e uma calvinista: ao lado delas apareceram outros dois partidos, os anabatistas e os socinianos, que precisamente na igreja e na teologia reformadas da Suíça, dos Países Baixos, da Inglaterra e da América foram sempre de grande influência. Representam o elemento místico e o elemento racional na religião e na teologia.

O arminianismo já tivera seus precursores no século XVI em Coolhaes, Coornhert e Wiggerts, mas no início do século XVII tornou-se um poder na igreja. Levantou-se contra a confissão da soberania absoluta de Deus nos conhecidos cinco pontos: predestinação, satisfação, corrupção do homem, conversão e perseverança. Seus documentos são a Remonstrância apresentada aos Estados em 1610, a Confissão e a Apologia redigidas por Episcópio, além das obras de Armínio, Uytenbogaert, Limborch e Curcellaeus.

O cartesianismo era em princípio uma emancipação completa de toda autoridade e de toda objetividade, e uma construção de todo o cosmos a partir do sujeito, a partir do pensamento: cogito, ergo sum. A rejeição de toda tradição e o método matemático, aparentemente certo, pelo qual Descartes concluía pela existência do mundo, de Deus e do espírito, agradaram a muitos. Descartes ganhou muitos adeptos também entre os teólogos — Renerius e Regius em Utrecht; Raey, Heerebord e Abraham Heydanus em Leiden; e ainda Roell, Bekker e outros —, que adotaram o cartesianismo e levaram o racionalismo para dentro da igreja. A relação de razão e revelação tornou-se então a questão principal: a razão se emancipa da revelação e tenta reconquistar sua independência.

A isso veio somar-se ainda o cocceianismo, aparentado ao cartesianismo no método. O cocceianismo foi também uma reação contra a teologia tradicional e por isso logo, ao fim do século, entrou em aliança com o cartesianismo. O que havia de novo em Coccejus não era sua doutrina do pacto, como hoje se reconhece geralmente, pois esta já ocorre em Zuínglio, Bullinger e Olevianus, e nos Países Baixos em Snecanus, Gomarus e Cloppenburg, mas seu método federalista. Sua Summa doctrinae de foedere et testamento, de 1648, era uma dogmática bíblico-histórica, que fazia da Escritura não apenas princípio e norma, mas também objeto da dogmática, e opunha assim a teologia da Escritura à teologia da tradição, o pacto ao decreto, a história à ideia, o método antropológico ao teológico. O perigo desse método consistia em arrastar o eterno e imutável — a substantia foederis — para dentro da corrente do temporal e histórico — a oeconomia foederis — e assim transferir para o próprio Deus a ideia de devir. Mas muitos seguiram o método cocceiano — Heydanus, Wittichius, Burman, Braun, Witsius, Campegius Vitringa, van Til, Lampe. A luta de voetianos e cocceianos, e depois a dos cocceianos verdes e secos, livres e rígidos, prosseguiu século XVIII adentro, e terminou de fato com a vitória do cocceianismo e do cartesianismo. A escolástica tivera seu tempo, o florescimento da filosofia aristotélica passara. A maioria das cátedras foi preenchida com cocceianos. Os manuais dogmáticos que agora vêm à luz são em sua maioria cocceianos: no essencial ainda ortodoxos, mas em geral de pequena extensão, evitando toda escolástica e desviando-se já, em muitos pontos, da apresentação antiga. Surge a dúvida quanto à satisfação particular, à eleição, à geração do Filho, à trindade e ao pacto das obras. Os voetianos foram sendo empurrados para trás e recolheram-se ao silêncio: o Merch de Marck, de 1686, e o Redelijke Godsdienst de Brakel, de 1700, foram as últimas dogmáticas em seu espírito, mas já privadas da força das anteriores; e ideias pietistas, labadistas e antinomianas penetraram em seus círculos.

33. E assim foi o curso da teologia em todas as igrejas reformadas. Na França a academia de Saumur tornou-se o centro de toda sorte de teses sensacionais. Camero não só se juntou a Piscator na negação da imputação da obediência ativa de Cristo, como ensinou ainda que a vontade sempre segue o entendimento e que, portanto, a inflexão da vontade na regeneração não era ato físico, mas ético. Amyraut, em seu Tratado da predestinação, fez da doutrina comum da vontade de sinal, da oferta séria e bem-intencionada da graça, um decreto separado, que precedia o da eleição; com isso pôs um fundamento remonstrante sob o edifício calvinista e correu o perigo de enfraquecer em incapacidade meramente moral a incapacidade do homem para crer. Cappel afirmou que os pontos hebraicos, quanto à figura, haviam sido inventados mais tarde pelos eruditos judeus e inseridos no texto, e depois ensinou que o texto hebraico não estava incólume e que a escrita samaritana era mais antiga que a quadrada hebraica. Placaeus negou a imputação imediata do pecado de Adão. Claude Pajon negou a necessidade da graça interna e foi combatido por Jurieu. A luta teológica na França correu assim especialmente sobre a natureza da graça subjetiva: Camero limitou-a à iluminação do entendimento, Amyraut tornou universal a graça objetiva, Pajon ensinou a superfluidade de uma graça subjetiva especial. Deísmo e racionalismo estavam com isso preparados.

Na Inglaterra houve grande diversidade entre os não conformistas. Os presbiterianos, depois do Sínodo de Westminster, declinaram em número e influência e tiveram de ceder lugar ao independentismo, já abraçado no século XVI por Robert Browne e por John Robinson, e que cresceu em poder e estima durante a guerra civil. No Sínodo de Westminster os presbiterianos ainda tinham a maioria e os independentes apenas alguns votos; mas já em outubro de 1658, numa assembleia em Londres, estavam presentes delegados de mais de cem congregações independentes, e ali foi redigida a Declaração de Savoy. Seu principal teólogo foi John Owen. Também o batismo já ocorria esporadicamente na Inglaterra no século XVI, mas só a partir de 1633 começou a formar congregações próprias; em 1677 os batistas publicaram uma confissão de fé que diferia da de Westminster e da Declaração de Savoy apenas no governo eclesiástico e no batismo, e sobre ela se redigiu em 1693 um catecismo geralmente aceito. Dos batistas calvinistas distinguem-se os gerais, arminianos ou de livre-arbítrio. O batismo achou depois difusão sobretudo na América, por Roger Williams. Para a dogmática pouco fez, mas produziu pregadores poderosos, como John Bunyan.

O período da guerra civil foi na Inglaterra, na esfera religiosa e teológica, um tempo da maior confusão: toda sorte de ideias e direções fermentaram juntas. Antes eram tidas por outras tantas seitas; muito melhor, porém, é considerá-las, com Weingarten, nuances de um único grande partido, o dos Santos. Sentimentos arminianos, batistas, quiliásticos, antinomianos e mesmo libertinos acharam entrada. Reinava um individualismo religioso, que no quakerismo atingiu seu ponto culminante: nele se completa a emancipação da tradição, da confissão e do vínculo eclesiástico, na medida em que cada crente é posto por si, mesmo desligado da Escritura, e possui em si mesmo, no Espírito, na luz interior, a fonte de sua vida e de seu conhecimento religiosos. Tudo o que é objetivo — Escritura, Cristo, igreja, ofício, sacramento — é posto de lado; os crentes vivem de um princípio próprio e se distinguem também na sociedade por seus próprios costumes, hábitos e vestes. George Fox foi o fundador dessa seita, Robert Barclay seu teólogo, William Penn seu estadista.

Todas essas gerações individualistas prepararam o caminho para o deísmo. O realismo do caráter nacional inglês, o nominalismo de Duns Escoto, Roger Bacon e Guilherme de Occam, a filosofia empirista de Francis Bacon já o haviam preparado. E quando, no século XVII, veio somar-se a confusão nas convicções religiosas, e toda a Inglaterra se dividiu em partidos e seitas, despertou em muitos o pensamento de que só naquilo que era comum a todos podia estar a essência da religião. O latitudinarismo achou aceitação e desembocou no deísmo. A fila dos deístas foi aberta por Herbert de Cherbury, que reduziu a essência da religião a cinco verdades — existência de Deus, veneração de Deus, virtude, arrependimento e retribuição —, sustentando que essa religião originária, verdadeira e pura fora de toda maneira falsificada pelos sacerdotes: esse foi o programa do deísmo. A partir dali empreendeu-se a luta contra a revelação. Locke, em A razoabilidade do cristianismo, atribuiu à razão a decisão sobre a revelação. John Toland, em O cristianismo não misterioso, declarou que o cristianismo não contém apenas nada contra, mas também nada acima da razão. Anthony Collins recomendou o pensar livre, isto é, incrédulo. Thomas Woolston tentou explicar os milagres por alegoria. Tindal, em O cristianismo tão antigo quanto a criação, pôs de lado toda a revelação. O deísmo terminou em ceticismo com Henry Dodwell, para quem o cristianismo não se funda em argumento; e esse ceticismo foi completado no domínio filosófico por Hume.

34. Por volta de 1750 o declínio da teologia reformada instalou-se em toda parte. Os elementos dissolventes, já presentes no século anterior, continuaram a operar e solaparam a dogmática. Depois que o cocceianismo alcançou a vitória neste país, veio, de 1740 a 1770, o período dos Tolerantes. O poder da verdade foi negado; da confissão recuou-se para a Escritura; doutrinas reformadas características — culpa herdada, pacto das obras, satisfação particular — foram abandonadas; sob forma bela e nome bíblico surgiram toda sorte de erros remonstrantes e socinianos. Os confessores da religião reformada quando muito ainda aquiescem no que existe, mas já não vivem nele nem falam a partir dele. A velha dogmática tornou-se objeto de estudo histórico: Bernhard de Moor escreveu um comentário perpétuo ao compêndio de Marck, e Martinus Vitringa comentou a doutrina da religião cristã de seu pai, Campegius Vitringa. Entre os poucos que de coração e alma se apegaram à velha doutrina reformada, a defenderam com talento e a desenvolveram, ocupam o primeiro lugar Alexander Comrie, Nicolaus Holtius e J. J. Brahé; os dois primeiros, em seu Exame do projeto de tolerância, tomaram a luta contra os Tolerantes.

Mas desde 1770 a chamada neologia cresceu cada vez mais em influência. O deísmo inglês, a incredulidade francesa e o racionalismo alemão acharam aqui solo fértil. A revolução foi uma mudança total das concepções. A ortodoxia foi transportada ao século XIX na forma de um supranaturalismo não racionalista, mas racional, moderado e bíblico, e teve como tal seus principais representantes em Chevallier, Broes, van Nuys Klinkenberg e sobretudo em Muntinghe.

E assim se passou também em outros países. A França, no século XVIII, já não tinha teologia reformada própria: a revogação do edito de Nantes baniu do país as melhores forças. Paul Rabaut e Antoine Court conquistaram para si o nome honroso de restauradores da igreja reformada na França, e os ministros franceses recebiam sua formação sobretudo em Lausanne. Na Suíça o Consensus Helveticus de 1675 não pôde deter o racionalismo; já em 1685 se moveram esforços para pô-lo de lado, e no século XVIII estes foram coroados de bom êxito em Genebra, Basileia, Zurique e Berna. Osterwald, ministro em Neuchâtel, forma a transição da ortodoxia do século XVII para o racionalismo do XVIII: em seu Tratado das fontes da corrupção, em seu Catecismo e em seu Compêndio, queixa-se da ortodoxia morta e dos dogmas de fio fino, passa em silêncio por muitas doutrinas, por exemplo a eleição, e busca o reavivamento da moralidade. Com ele, J. A. Turretini e Werenfels formaram o triunvirato suíço. A ortodoxia moderada por eles representada levou logo à heterodoxia decidida. O método matemático de Wolff foi aplicado à teologia por Wyttenbach e Stapfer na Suíça e, na Alemanha, por Stosch, Endemann e Mursinna.

Na Inglaterra a dogmática foi quase inteiramente tomada pelas questões sobre profecia, milagre e revelação, postas na ordem do dia pelo deísmo. Embora a apologética fosse muitas vezes de colorido racionalista, teve contudo muitos e alguns excelentes representantes — Samuel Clarke, Lardner, Butler, Warburton, Paley e outros. Entre as obras dogmáticas do período destacam-se as de Stackhouse, de Isaac Watts e de Philipp Doddridge. Entre os teólogos escoceses do século XVIII vêm ao primeiro plano Thomas Boston, com seu Corpo completo de teologia, seu Estado quádruplo e sua exposição do pacto da graça, e ainda os primeiros secessionistas, entre eles os irmãos Ralph e Ebenezer Erskine. Importante foi a chamada controvérsia da Marrow, iniciada em 1717 por ocasião da reedição, na Escócia, da obra do independente Edward Fisher, A medula da divindade moderna. A luta neonomiana travada no século anterior na Inglaterra foi assim transplantada para a Escócia. O livro foi atacado pelo principal Hadow, de St. Andrews, e acusaram os "teólogos da Marrow", entre os quais Boston era o principal, de antinomianismo — sem que os acusadores se mantivessem livres do neonomianismo. A Assembleia Geral condenou algumas proposições do livro como erros, o que deu ocasião também à separação dos Erskine, que se haviam posto do lado de Boston. O neonomianismo foi a preparação para o racionalismo, que gradualmente penetrou também na teologia e na igreja da Escócia.

35. No início do século XIX a teologia reformada estava quase em toda parte em triste decadência. Sob a forma do supranaturalismo, a teologia era aqui praticada por Van der Palm, Clarisse e van Hengel em Leiden, por Muntinghe e Ypey em Groningen, por Heringa e Vinke em Utrecht, e por muitos ministros capazes. Essa direção supranaturalista queria ser racional, não racionalista no sentido de Wegscheider e Röhr: mantinha a revelação e argumentava sua necessidade, possibilidade e verdade por toda sorte de fundamentos racionais e históricos. Queria ser bíblica e era anticonfessional, antifilosófica e anticalvinista; obteve uma dogmática deísta na teologia, pelagiana na antropologia, moralista na cristologia, colegialista na eclesiologia e eudemonista na escatologia.

Nas províncias do norte do país ela foi substituída, por volta de 1835, pela teologia de Groningen, que, nas pegadas da filosofia socrática de Van Heusde, substituiu a ideia de revelação e de doutrina pela de educação, e assim incorporou um elemento ético na relação entre Deus e o homem: Deus não era aqui, em primeiro lugar, o Mestre, mas o grande Educador, que pela natureza e pela história, pela pessoa e pela igreja de Cristo, formava os homens como seus filhos em cristãos sábios e piedosos, à semelhança de Deus. A oposição que sofreu de círculos ortodoxos e logo também modernos, e seu desenvolvimento interior numa direção evangélica, fizeram que tivesse de ceder lugar, por volta de 1850, à Teologia Moderna. Esta surgiu com Opzoomer, professor em Utrecht desde 1845, que aplicou à religião a filosofia empirista de Mill e Comte e chegou ao antissupranaturalismo. Scholten, em sua Doutrina da Igreja Reformada, deu por fim uma dogmática moderna sob bandeira reformada. E Kuenen apareceu como advogado da evolução no campo da Escritura do Antigo Testamento. Houve assim, no campo teológico, um desenvolvimento gradual rumo à incredulidade: a teologia moderna já não tem dogmática alguma. Contra essas direções negativas levantaram-se, porém, neste século, em nossa pátria, as direções positivas do Réveil e da secessão, da escola de Utrecht e da ética-irênica, e por fim do calvinismo, que se esforça por conquistar também teologicamente uma posição própria.

Na Alemanha a teologia reformada declinou cada vez mais. A igreja reformada havia conquistado ali largo território e sua teologia era praticada em Heidelberg, Duisburg, Marburgo, Frankfurt, Herborn, Bremen e Halle; assim permaneceu até meados do século XVIII. Mas então veio a Aufklärung, em 1817 a União, em seguida a influência da filosofia de Kant e de Schleiermacher, e todas essas causas levaram a igreja e a teologia reformadas na Alemanha à ruína completa. É certo que no início deste século houve algum despertar também da consciência reformada, com Krafft em Erlangen, Krummacher em Elberfeld, Mallet em Bremen; mas não foi bastante forte. Mesmo homens como Ebrard, em Erlangen, e Heppe, em Marburgo, causaram por seu melanchthonianismo grande dano à causa reformada. Só Wichelhaus, Böhl, Zahn, Thelemann e Kohlbrugge se puseram decididamente sobre o fundamento da confissão reformada. No presente já não há na Alemanha uma única universidade ou escola teológica, nem um único professor de teologia, de confissão reformada.

36. Na Suíça e na França veio um reavivamento pelo Réveil, transplantado para lá da Escócia. O Réveil foi um movimento espiritual poderoso, mas desde o início não eclesiástico e anticonfessional: colocou-se sobre um fundamento cristão geral e caracterizou-se ainda por seu caráter individualista, aristocrático, metodista e filantrópico. Na Suíça pôs a ênfase especialmente em dois dogmas, a eleição, com César Malan, e a inspiração, com Merle d'Aubigné e Gaussen. Mas Alexandre Vinet, que em 1822-23 caiu sob a influência do Réveil, partiu teologicamente de outra ideia: o princípio vital de sua fé e de sua teologia era a harmonia entre o cristianismo e a consciência moral. Por isso foi levado a urgir tão fortemente a ligação de dogma e moral, o lado ético da verdade; e por isso chegou a seu sinergismo e à rejeição da eleição. Vinet, porém, manteve firmes até o fim as principais verdades do cristianismo. Muito mais longe foi seu discípulo Scherer, a princípio estritamente ortodoxo, que rompeu aos poucos com seu passado e terminou a vida em completa incredulidade. Desde então surgiu na França e na Suíça um protestantismo liberal, e assim se puseram frente a frente duas direções, uma liberal e uma evangélica. Mas dentro desta última os princípios de Vinet continuaram a operar, apoiados mais tarde ainda pela influência de Ritschl. Há hoje três direções a distinguir: uma liberal, ou de esquerda; uma mediadora, com Pressensé, Astié, Sécrétan, Sabatier e Lobstein; e uma evangélica, moderadamente ortodoxa, com Godet pai e filho, Doumergue e Gretillat. A luta entre elas corre especialmente sobre duas questões. A primeira diz respeito à autoridade em matéria de religião: se ela está na Escritura, em Cristo, ou na razão e na consciência. A segunda diz respeito à pessoa de Cristo: se ele é verdadeiramente Deus, ou se esvaziou por kenosis, ou é também apenas um homem, diferindo de nós em grau.

37. A Inglaterra religiosa, tal como hoje a conhecemos, é obra do metodismo. John Wesley não foi um teólogo erudito, mas um pregador poderoso, que individualizou o evangelho e fez dele uma questão de vida para cada homem. O metodismo que por ele e por George Whitefield surgiu não foi, em primeiro lugar, um desvio de um ou outro dos Trinta e Nove Artigos, mas concentrou toda a verdade da religião em torno de dois centros: a experiência súbita e consciente da culpa e da graça, isto é, a conversão pessoal; e a revelação dessa vida nova numa forma inteiramente nova, consistindo em sair a converter outros, abster-se de vários adiáfora e ter por alcançável já nesta vida a perfeição cristã. Essa unilateralidade levou a que gradualmente vários dogmas fossem contestados, modificados ou tidos por de valor subordinado. O metodismo exerceu influência incalculável sobre independentes, batistas, presbiterianos e anglicanos: Wesley foi o recriador do protestantismo inglês e americano, os reavivamentos desde então não mais deixaram as igrejas protestantes, ele foi o arcebispo dos cortiços, o pai da missão interna, o fundador do socialismo cristão.

O metodismo, porém, limitou-se no principal ao povo. Nos círculos superiores, na política, na filosofia e nas letras, o frio liberalismo permaneceu dominante. Contra isso veio a reação do romantismo, que no terreno eclesiástico e teológico foi transplantada no movimento de Oxford. Esse movimento fortaleceu consideravelmente o partido alto-eclesiástico, que já existia desde o século XVI, e promoveu poderosamente a doutrina e o rito romanos na igreja anglicana. Também os autores de Lux Mundi, em 1890, tentaram renovar o puseísmo e tornar plausíveis os dogmas cristãos pondo-os à luz do tempo mais recente. Ao lado do partido alto apareceu o partido largo, já preparado nos séculos XVII e XVIII pelo latitudinarismo, e que neste século recebeu excelentes representantes em Thomas Arnold, Maurice, Kingsley, Whately, Robertson e Stanley. Avessos ao metodismo do partido baixo, todos eles se empenharam de modo sério e nobre por uma reconciliação de cristianismo e cultura: a igreja, segundo sua convicção, devia tornar-se uma escola de educação do povo; a religião devia reconciliar-se com tudo o que é verdadeiro, bom e belo, onde quer que se encontre; e o cristianismo devia sobretudo revelar sua força na renovação moral da sociedade. Esse ponto de vista largo e tolerante achou assentimento cada vez maior. A ascensão do ritualismo, as muitas seitas e direções, a miséria das camadas baixas da sociedade e sobretudo a Alta Crítica, que já com o bispo Colenso entrara no mundo inglês e depois foi propagada por Robertson Smith, Cheyne e Driver, asseguraram ao partido largo a dianteira. E não apenas dentro, mas também muito fora da Igreja Estabelecida esse ponto de vista largo é hoje adotado por muitos. Além de seu ponto de partida cristológico, que tudo concentra em torno da encarnação, essa direção se caracteriza por sua tendência unificadora: as diferenças eclesiásticas são apagadas ou apresentadas como de pouca importância; praticamente colabora-se com homens de toda igreja e direção; e teoricamente muitos aspiram mesmo à união de todas as igrejas protestantes. Com isso vai muitas vezes junto a esperança de uma restauração de todas as coisas do outro lado da sepultura.

O calvinismo estrito perde terreno a cada dia. Aqui e ali ainda se mantém, nas Terras Altas escocesas, no País de Gales, mas de um cultivo e de uma defesa eruditos já não se pode falar. Em contrapartida, a doutrina da evolução se difunde na Inglaterra a cada dia. Depois que o deísmo já submetera os milagres, as profecias e a revelação a formidável crítica, sob a influência da doutrina da descendência de Darwin, do agnosticismo de Spencer, do empirismo de Stuart Mill e do materialismo de Tyndall e Huxley esse processo religioso de dissolução prosseguiu ainda mais. A crítica dos dogmas cristãos recebeu apoio inesperado e forte de Edwin Hatch, que, como já antes dele Hampden, explicou os dogmas pela ligação da filosofia pagã com o cristianismo originário. O unitarismo, que em 1773 fundou sua primeira congregação e possui hoje em James Martineau um excelente porta-voz, ganha gradualmente influência. Muitos romperam mesmo inteiramente com o cristianismo e buscam sua satisfação religiosa na teosofia budista, na moralidade — como Matthew Arnold, que definiu a religião como moralidade tocada pela emoção e Deus como o poder eterno, fora de nós, que faz pela justiça —, numa sociedade de cultura ética, ou mesmo no maometismo, para o qual em 1891 se abriu uma mesquita em Liverpool.

38. Todas as igrejas foram sucessivamente transplantadas para a América e o Canadá, da Inglaterra e de outros países da Europa. A igreja episcopal é a mais antiga e mais rica e data já da imigração para a Virgínia, em 1607. A Igreja Reformada Holandesa ali se estabeleceu desde a descoberta do Hudson e da ilha de Manhattan, em 1609. Os independentes ou congregacionais desembarcaram primeiro em Plymouth, em 1620. Os quacres foram conduzidos por William Penn à Pensilvânia em 1680. Os batistas firmaram pé em Rhode Island por Roger Williams, em 1639. Os metodistas entraram por Wesley, em 1735, e Whitefield, em 1738. As igrejas alemãs, tanto a luterana quanto a reformada, ali se estabeleceram desde meados do século passado. As igrejas presbiterianas estão ali divididas em grupos diferentes.

Quase todas essas igrejas e direções eram de origem calvinista. De todos os movimentos religiosos, o calvinismo foi o mais poderoso na América: não está limitado a uma ou outra igreja, mas, sob toda sorte de modificações, é o elemento animador das igrejas congregacional, batista, presbiteriana, reformada holandesa e alemã. De todos os lados foi trazido para a América — da Inglaterra, da Escócia, da França, da Holanda, da Alemanha — e formou o caráter da Nova Inglaterra no período colonial, de 1620 a 1776. Há que distinguir, porém, entre o calvinismo puritano, vindo sobretudo da Inglaterra e que achou entrada na Nova Inglaterra, e o calvinismo presbiteriano, que da Escócia foi introduzido nos Estados do Sul, do Centro e do Oeste. Ambas as formas tinham por base a confissão de Westminster de 1647, mas em ambas surgiu logo também uma luta entre uma escola velha e uma nova.

O primeiro e principal teólogo da Nova Inglaterra foi Jonathan Edwards, que uniu profunda força metafísica de pensamento a uma piedade séria. Em 1734, ainda antes da vinda de Wesley à América, deu-se em sua congregação em Northampton um despertar notável, e mais tarde ele repetidamente conduziu e defendeu tais reavivamentos, com seu amigo Whitefield. Teologicamente travou a luta especialmente contra o arminianismo, que penetrava na Nova Inglaterra pelos escritos de Whitby e Taylor. Tentou fortalecer o calvinismo por suas especulações metafísicas e éticas, mas de fato o enfraqueceu por sua distinção entre incapacidade natural e moral. Tornou-se o pai dos edwardianos, dos "homens da nova teologia", das "novas luzes", que mantinham a doutrina calvinista da soberania de Deus e da eleição, mas uniam a isso a rejeição da culpa herdada e a universalidade da expiação, tal como os teólogos de Saumur na França. Seu filho Jonathan Edwards, na doutrina da satisfação, no essencial defendeu a teoria de Grócio. Samuel Hopkins, discípulo de Edwards, escreveu um sistema de teologia em que reproduziu o sistema do mestre e elaborou especialmente o amor desinteressado a Deus, no sentido de Fénelon e de Madame Guyon; Nathanael Emmons foi um dos principais defensores do hopkinsianismo. Com Timothy Dwight e Nathaniel Taylor o sistema de Edwards foi modificado em sentido pelagiano. E no tempo presente, em Andover, sob a direção de Egbert Smyth, levou à defesa de uma ortodoxia progressiva e à doutrina da provação futura. A Escola Velha na teologia da Nova Inglaterra foi representada especialmente por Bennet Tyler e Leonard Woods, que defenderam o velho calvinismo. O puritanismo, porém, abandonou cada vez mais os padrões de Dordt e de Westminster: no sínodo das igrejas congregacionais em St. Louis, em 1880, preparou-se uma nova confissão de doze artigos, em que as doutrinas reformadas características foram omitidas.

39. A teologia nas igrejas presbiterianas da América teve curso paralelo. Também aqui surgiu um cisma, não só entre os teólogos, entre as Luzes Velhas e as Luzes Novas, mas também nas igrejas, entre o sínodo da Filadélfia e o de Nova York, de 1741 a 1758. Um dos primeiros teólogos foi John Dickinson, cuja obra principal é uma defesa dos cinco artigos contra os remonstrantes. A Escola Velha achou apoio sobretudo no colégio de Princeton, fundado em 1812, e ali foi representada por Archibald Alexander, por Charles Hodge, autor de uma Teologia sistemática, e por seu filho e sucessor Archibald Alexander Hodge. A chamada Teologia de Princeton é no principal uma reprodução do calvinismo do século XVII, tal como está fixado na confissão de Westminster e no Consensus Helveticus e elaborado sobretudo por Francisco Turretini em sua Teologia elêntica. O mesmo sistema é defendido pelos teólogos do Sul — Thornwell, Breckinridge e Dabney. Um dos mais jovens representantes da Escola Velha é W. G. T. Shedd, com sua Teologia dogmática. Entre Hodge e Shedd há, porém, uma diferença notável: o primeiro é federalista e criacionista, o segundo é realista e traducianista. Ambos, contudo, concordam de novo em que interpretam a eleição de modo muito amplo e nela incluem também todas as crianças que morrem na infância.

As Luzes Novas desviaram-se da Escola Velha, além da questão da autoridade do sínodo geral, dos reavivamentos e da união com os congregacionais, especialmente na matéria da culpa herdada e da satisfação particular, às quais se juntaram mais tarde a inspiração da Escritura e a escatologia. Representantes dessa nova direção foram Albert Barnes, Lyman Beecher e Thomas Skinner, nenhum dos três deixando um sistema teológico; Barnes e Beecher foram acusados de heresia, mas absolvidos. Ainda assim veio a haver de novo um cisma nas igrejas, em 1837, quando a Escola Velha obteve maioria no sínodo geral e cortou quatro sínodos da comunhão. Em 1869, porém, uniram-se outra vez, sobretudo pela influência do Union Theological Seminary de Nova York, fundado em 1836, onde a dogmática foi ensinada por Henry B. Smith, autor de um Sistema de teologia cristã, que buscou uma mediação entre a Escola Velha e a Nova no ponto de vista cristocêntrico. Um de seus discípulos, Lewis French Stearns, defendeu em sua Teologia dos nossos dias todas as ideias mais novas sobre inspiração, providência, kenosis, predestinação e salvação. Outro professor do Union Seminary, Charles Briggs, foi em 1892 acusado de heterodoxia, por ter a razão como fonte, aceitar erros na Escritura e reconhecer a Alta Crítica, e foi condenado em 1893 pela Assembleia Geral.

Mas com isso a crise não está encerrada. As igrejas reformadas na América vivem um tempo difícil. Os dogmas da infalibilidade da Escritura, da Trindade, da queda e da impotência do homem, da satisfação particular, da eleição e da reprovação são secretamente negados ou abertamente contestados. A questão da revisão está por ora fora dos trilhos na igreja presbiteriana, mas provavelmente voltará. O presente não parece favorável ao florescimento da teologia reformada.

§ 6. O significado dos principia

1. Anaximandro foi o primeiro a designar o fundamento das coisas — que ele punha no ilimitado — com o nome de princípio; talvez indicasse apenas que o ilimitado era o começo e o primeiro de tudo. Mas na filosofia de Platão e de Aristóteles a palavra adquiriu o sentido de causa última das coisas. Aristóteles entende por princípios as primeiras coisas de uma série e, sobretudo, as primeiras causas, que não se derivam de nenhuma outra; sua definição: princípio é aquilo de que algo é, ou vem a ser, ou é conhecido. Tais causas ele admitiu em dois domínios, o do ser e o da consciência, a metafísica e a lógica. O ser das coisas ele derivou de quatro princípios: matéria, forma, princípio do movimento e fim. Mas admitiu causas últimas também na lógica. Aristóteles observou que de tudo não se pode dar prova: de muitas coisas não temos um conhecimento mediato por demonstração, mas um conhecimento imediato pela razão. As próprias provas, para não formarem um regresso ao infinito, devem partir de proposições que, sendo imediatamente certas, não são suscetíveis de prova nem dela precisam. A essas proposições, pressuposição geral de toda demonstração, chamou axiomas, e delas diz que são aquelas cujo ser não se pode demonstrar.

No mesmo sentido se usou o latim principium, como em Cícero, que fala dos princípios das coisas e dos princípios do direito. Conforme a definição aristotélica, distinguiu-se depois na lógica um tríplice princípio — principium essendi, existendi e cognoscendi —, consoante o ser, o vir-a-ser ou o conhecimento de alguma coisa tivesse de ser derivado de outra. De principium distinguiu-se ainda causa: causa designa o princípio enquanto determina por seu influxo algo que por si não basta para existir, e enquanto é anterior — no tempo ou ao menos por natureza — àquilo que causa. A causa é, pois, uma espécie particular de princípio: toda causa é princípio, mas nem todo princípio é causa.

2. Esse modo de falar foi adotado também na teologia. Na Sagrada Escritura princípio tem muitas vezes sentido temporal, mas algumas vezes também sentido causativo: o temor do Senhor é chamado o princípio da sabedoria, e Cristo é chamado o princípio da criação e da ressurreição. Os pais da igreja falam com frequência do Pai como princípio, fonte e causa do Filho e do Espírito, e Agostinho chama o Pai principium totius divinitatis. Assim Deus era o principium essendi ou existendi de tudo quanto é criado, e portanto também da ciência, e em particular da teologia.

Neste último domínio repetia-se sempre, e expressamente, que Deus é o principium essendi da teologia. Havia para isso uma razão especial: nenhum conhecimento de Deus é possível senão de Deus e por Deus. Era axioma da teologia antiga que de Deus se há de aprender o que dele se deve entender, porque não se o conhece senão tendo-o a ele por autor. Que haja na criatura algum conhecimento de Deus, isso se deve unicamente a Deus. Ele é cognoscível apenas porque e na medida em que ele mesmo o quer. Já a analogia do homem prova a verdade disso: o homem é, até certo ponto, o principium essendi do nosso conhecimento a respeito de sua pessoa; ele precisa revelar-se, dar-se a ver por aparição, palavra e ação, para que possamos vir a conhecê-lo de algum modo. Mas no homem isso é sempre relativo: ele se revela muitas vezes involuntariamente e contra a própria vontade, em traços de caráter que desconhece em si mesmo, e às vezes se revela outro do que é, falsa e mentirosamente. Nada disso ocorre em Deus. Ele é em sentido absoluto principium essendi, causa efficiens principialis do nosso conhecimento de Deus, porque é absolutamente livre, autoconsciente e veraz. Seu autoconhecimento, sua autoconsciência, é o principium essendi do nosso conhecimento de Deus. Sem a autoconsciência de Deus, nenhum conhecimento de Deus nas criaturas. O panteísmo é a morte da teologia.

A relação entre esse autoconhecimento de Deus e o nosso conhecimento de Deus exprimia-se antigamente dizendo que aquele é a theologia archetypa deste, e este a theologia ectypa daquele. Nosso conhecimento de Deus é uma impressão do conhecimento que Deus tem de si mesmo, mas sempre em sentido criatural: é apenas uma fraca semelhança, um esboço finito e limitado, acomodado à consciência criatural, da absoluta autoconsciência de Deus. Por maior, porém, que seja a distância, o principium essendi do nosso conhecimento de Deus é somente o próprio Deus, que se revela livre, autoconsciente e veraz.

3. Deste principium essendi há de se distinguir agora o principium cognoscendi. Que haja teologia, devemo-lo unicamente a Deus, à sua autoconsciência, ao seu beneplácito. Mas o meio, o caminho pelo qual esse conhecimento de Deus chega até nós, é a revelação de Deus, aqui tomada ainda em sentido inteiramente geral. A natureza da coisa o traz consigo. Um homem só nos é cognoscível na medida em que se revela a nós, isto é, se dá a ver, fala ou age; aparição, palavra e ação são as três formas da revelação de um homem a outro. Assim é também com o Senhor nosso Deus: seu conhecimento também nos flui apenas de sua revelação, e também essa revelação só pode ser aparição, palavra e ação. O principium cognoscendi da teologia é, portanto, a autorrevelação ou autocomunicação de Deus às suas criaturas. Se essa autorrevelação vem individualmente a cada homem, ou se está depositada para toda a humanidade na Escritura ou na igreja, só mais tarde poderá ser investigado. Baste, por ora, que a autorrevelação de Deus, pela natureza da coisa, só pode ser o único principium cognoscendi do nosso conhecimento de Deus. Acrescente-se apenas a observação de que, se essa autorrevelação está depositada na Escritura ou na igreja, então essa Escritura e essa igreja só podem ter significação instrumental e, nesse sentido, acidental e transitória. A Sagrada Escritura é, quando muito, causa efficiens instrumentalis da teologia.

Pois o fim da teologia não pode ser outro senão que a criatura racional conheça a Deus e, conhecendo-o, o glorifique. É seu beneplácito ser conhecido pelos homens. A autorrevelação de Deus pretende, portanto, trazer o conhecimento dele à consciência humana e, por meio dela, preparar de novo glória e honra para o próprio Deus. Mas então essa autorrevelação também não pode terminar fora do homem, diante dele, nele parando: tem de prosseguir para dentro do homem mesmo, isto é, a revelação não pode ser apenas externa, mas deve ser também interna. Por isso se distinguia antigamente entre principium cognoscendi externum e internum, verbum externum e internum, revelação e iluminação, a operação da Palavra de Deus e a de seu Espírito. O verbum internum é o verbum principale, pois é ele que traz o conhecimento de Deus para dentro do homem, e este é o fim de toda teologia, de toda a autorrevelação de Deus. O verbum externum, a revelação consignada na Sagrada Escritura, serve nisso como meio; é verbum instrumentale, talvez necessário por toda sorte de razões incidentais nesta dispensação, mas por sua natureza temporário e acidental.

4. Chegamos assim a conhecer três principia. Primeiro, Deus como principium essendi da teologia. Depois, o principium cognoscendi externum, a saber, a autorrevelação de Deus, que, enquanto depositada na Sagrada Escritura, tem caráter instrumental e temporal. E, finalmente, o principium cognoscendi internum, a iluminação do homem pelo Espírito de Deus. Estes três são um nisto: que têm a Deus por autor e têm por conteúdo um só e mesmo conhecimento de Deus. A theologia archetypa na consciência divina; a theologia ectypa, concedida na revelação e depositada na Sagrada Escritura; e a theologia in subjecto, o conhecimento de Deus enquanto entra da revelação na consciência do homem e é por ele recebido — as três são de Deus. É Deus mesmo que descerra o seu autoconhecimento, o comunica pela revelação e o traz para dentro do homem. E também materialmente são um, pois é um só e mesmo conhecimento puro e verdadeiro de Deus o que ele tem de si mesmo, o que comunica na revelação e o que traz à consciência humana. Nunca podem, pois, ser separados e desligados uns dos outros.

Mas, por outro lado, devem realmente ser distinguidos. Pois o conhecimento que Deus tem de si mesmo é absoluto, simples, infinito e, em sua absolutez, incomunicável à consciência finita. Por isso antigamente se limitava às vezes a theologia archetypa àquela porção do autoconhecimento de Deus que ele decidira comunicar às criaturas. Mas essa distinção torna mecânica a relação entre theologia archetypa e theologia ectypa, e esquece que o absoluto está não só na quantidade, mas também na qualidade. Nela há, contudo, um pensamento verdadeiro: que a theologia ectypa, concedida às criaturas pela revelação, não é o autoconhecimento absoluto de Deus, mas aquele conhecimento de Deus tal como acomodado, ajustado e tornado apropriado à consciência finita — antropomorfizado, portanto.

Essa theologia ectypa, que objetivamente jaz diante de nós na revelação, é externa, mas destina-se a ser transferida para a consciência das criaturas racionais, a tornar-se theologia ectypa interna, theologia in subjecto — e nisso sofre também mudanças conforme a natureza do sujeito. Ela não difere re et ratione, mas sim gradu et modo, em Cristo (theologia unionis), nos anjos e nos bem-aventurados (theologia visionis), nos homens sobre a terra (theologia viatorum, viae, revelationis), e depois, entre estes, nos profetas e apóstolos, nos teólogos e nos leigos. Modifica-se na consciência de cada um segundo a sua capacidade. Mas materialmente é e permanece um só e mesmo conhecimento, que procede de Deus e, pelo caminho da revelação, é transplantado para a consciência de suas criaturas racionais. Estes três principia, distintos e contudo essencialmente um, repousam no ser trinitário de Deus: é o Pai que, pelo Filho como Logos, no Espírito, se comunica às suas criaturas.

§ 7. Princípios na ciência

A. Racionalismo.

1. A ciência consiste sempre numa relação lógica entre sujeito e objeto; a maneira como pomos os dois em relação determina nossa concepção da ciência. Em todos os tempos houve, nesse ponto, duas direções diametralmente opostas, o racionalismo e o empirismo. Já surgiram na filosofia grega, onde se fez a antítese entre percepção sensível e pensamento, e assim também entre "opinião" e "ciência". Do lado do racionalismo estiveram a escola de Eleia, Platão, os neoplatônicos: a percepção sensível não dá conhecimento algum, tem por objeto fenômenos mutáveis e só nos ensina que algo é e é assim, não por que é assim; e ainda nos engana muitas vezes, fornecendo-nos representações falsas — o bastão que na água parece torto —, das quais só o pensamento pode purificar a inverdade. O pensamento está, portanto, muito acima da percepção sensível; só ele nos dá ciência; a ciência não vem de fora, é produto do espírito humano. Na filosofia mais recente essa direção ressurgiu com Descartes, que, lançando tudo fora, encontrou por fim seu ponto de partida firme no pensar e daí concluiu ao ser, cogito ergo sum. Com isso a necessidade do pensamento, a conexão lógica, a ordem matemática de razão e consequência tornou-se em Espinosa o critério da verdade. O mundo sensível é quando muito ocasião, não fonte, do nosso conhecimento: o espírito humano pode produzir todo o conhecimento de si mesmo, com o seu próprio meio, o pensar; nossas ideias, dizia Leibniz, mesmo as das coisas sensíveis, vêm do nosso próprio fundo. Kant de fato temperou esse racionalismo, na medida em que derivou do espírito humano não a matéria, mas apenas as formas da percepção (idealismo transcendental, crítico). Mas Fichte viu com razão que tal distinção era impossível e declarou que todos os elementos do nosso conhecimento, até a percepção mesma, são a priori e postos pelo Eu (idealismo absoluto). Nesses filósofos o racionalismo ainda se limitava ao domínio da faculdade de conhecer, tinha sentido apenas gnosiológico; mas esse racionalismo subjetivo foi por Fichte, Schelling e Hegel estendido a um racionalismo objetivo: não só o conhecimento, mas também o ser, não só as representações, mas as próprias coisas surgiram unicamente do pensamento; pensar e ser são um (idealismo metafísico). Há progresso nessa história: o pensamento, e não a percepção sensível, dá a verdade; traz consigo os principia, as sementes de todo conhecimento; cria a forma do nosso mundo de pensamento (Kant), e também a sua matéria e conteúdo (Fichte), e afinal cria e constrói o mundo inteiro, não só o do pensar, mas também o do ser.

2. Sob todas as formas em que apareceu, esse racionalismo teve sempre um pensamento fundamental: a origem do conhecimento há de ser buscada no sujeito. É bom compreender como se chegou a isso. Pois, à parte a inseguridade da percepção sensível, há entre as representações em nós e as coisas fora de nós uma diferença tão essencial, que as primeiras não se explicam pelas segundas. A matéria não pode agir sobre o espírito; fenômenos espirituais, como são as representações, só do espírito se explicam; o semelhante só pelo semelhante pode ser conhecido. Daí segue que a existência e a cooperação de matéria e espírito, das coisas fora de nós e das representações em nós, ou só se sustentam por hipóteses como a harmonia praestabilita de Leibniz, ou então se há de negar simplesmente a dualidade de matéria e espírito e ter coisa e representação, ser e pensar, por essencialmente um. Pois, diz o idealismo, se coisa e representação são duas, então temos de desesperar do conhecimento da coisa; nunca poderemos, afinal, confrontar nossa representação da coisa com a coisa mesma; jamais saímos de nós, do nosso mundo de representações — não podemos pôr-nos à janela para ver-nos passar na rua. Permanecemos sempre no círculo das nossas representações e nunca entramos em contato com a coisa mesma, mas sempre de novo com a nossa representação dela; só o consciente existe para nós; posso pensar apenas o pensamento, não a coisa; o que não é meu pensamento é para mim impensável, incognoscível, não existe para mim.

Esse idealismo foi ainda reforçado pelo que hoje ensina a fisiologia dos sentidos. Já Demócrito distinguia entre propriedades objetivas, que estão nas coisas mesmas, como peso e dureza, e outras, como calor, sabor e cor, presentes apenas subjetivamente em nossas sensações. Essa distinção entre propriedades quantitativas e qualitativas foi retomada por Descartes, Hobbes e Locke, que primeiro as chamou primárias e secundárias, e neste século foi elaborada sobretudo por Helmholtz. Segundo esse chamado semi-idealismo, fora de nós há no mundo apenas movimentos mecânicos dos átomos; a matéria é sem qualidades. Nossos sentidos recebem apenas impressões pelo movimento e pela ondulação dos átomos, e essas impressões são qualitativamente iguais; mas em nosso cérebro produzimos, a partir desses movimentos uniformes, a infinita diversidade do mundo da percepção. Luz, som, cor, sabor, calor, todas as propriedades qualitativas que supomos perceber nas coisas, não existem fora, mas nascem e existem somente no espírito humano: um só e mesmo movimento da matéria, tocando o tato, faz a impressão de calor, e caindo no olho nos dá a sensação de luz. O mundo, na sua substância, não é produto do homem; mas na sua forma, sim. Assim o idealismo foi ganhando terreno na filosofia e recebeu forte apoio até da ciência natural.

3. Há, contudo, objeções muito sérias contra o idealismo. Em primeiro lugar, está em conflito com toda a experiência. Somos todos, por natureza, realistas, e os próprios idealistas o são na prática. O idealismo é, de fato, uma opinião de escola, em conflito direto com a vida. Não explica como e por que todo ser humano, de si mesmo e involuntariamente, atribui objetividade e realidade independente aos fenômenos percebidos, em vez de concebê-los meramente como estados internos de consciência, ao passo que distinguimos com toda a clareza entre o que está em nós e o que está fora de nós, entre sonho e realidade. Acresce que o homem nunca e em domínio nenhum é autônomo, mas em toda parte e sempre dependente da natureza em torno dele. Pelo corpo está ligado à terra; abrigo, alimento e vestuário recebe dela; estranho seria que no intelectual fosse de outro modo. Assim como preparamos com a mão o alimento e a roupa, mas tiramos da natureza a matéria para isso, também com o intelecto recebemos a matéria de fora. O intelecto é aqui instrumento, não fonte. O idealismo identifica o órgão com a fonte do conhecimento, faz do olho, por assim dizer, a fonte da luz, deriva o pensamento do pensar.

Isso, porém, não pode ser, porque a coisa e a sua representação, o ser e o pensar, o esse e o percipi, são dois e não se deixam identificar. São ambos toto genere diferentes. Uma coisa não se levanta em nós como um sonho, nem se segue logicamente de representações anteriores, mas muitas vezes me vem de repente de fora e rompe a série das minhas representações; é independente de mim e tem existência fora de mim; tem propriedades que não se podem atribuir à representação dela. Aquilo que se chama um fogão é quente; a representação que dessa coisa está na minha consciência não tem tal propriedade. Se, apesar disso, coisa e representação são identificadas, o idealismo tem de levar ao ilusionismo absoluto: não só o mundo fora de mim se torna aparência, mas eu mesmo não sou senão uma representação, um fenômeno para mim mesmo. Tudo se torna sonho; não há mais realidade, mas também não há mais verdade. O idealismo pode não exercer influência alguma sobre a ação e a conduta de seus adeptos, porque a vida é muitas vezes melhor e mais forte que a doutrina; mas não se vê como religião e moral ainda se hão de justificar teoricamente, se ambas não são relações reais com seres que existem fora de mim, e sim apenas com representações em mim.

O dualismo de pensar e ser, do qual o idealismo parte em Platão, Descartes e Kant, converte-se depois sempre de novo, em Espinosa, Fichte, Schelling e Hegel, na identidade de ambos: o racionalismo subjetivo leva ao racionalismo absoluto e objetivo. Mas o pensar abstrato e sem conteúdo, o princípio mais universal, o absoluto, o ser, o pensar, de que parte a filosofia idealista, não é capaz de produzir o ser rico e pleno. Daquele abstractum estéril não se explica o mundo vivo; daquele sem vida, a multiplicidade dos fenômenos. O rochedo em que naufraga todo panteísmo é a multiplicidade; não se encontra transição do abstrato ao concreto, do geral ao particular. Também Schelling o disse abertamente: é difícil chegar até a realidade. Por fim, uma distinção como a de Kant entre a forma, que nós mesmos trazemos conosco na percepção, e a matéria, que nos vem de fora, ou como a do semi-idealismo entre fenômenos primários objetivos e secundários subjetivos, é insustentável, porque não se pode indicar a fronteira entre os dois. A matéria de uma representação pertence à representação tanto quanto a sua forma, como o próprio Fichte reconheceu. E as propriedades quantitativas primárias, e mesmo os corpos, são fenômenos percebidos tanto quanto as propriedades qualitativas do som e da cor. Não há razão para aceitar o testemunho de um sentido, o tato, e rejeitar o dos outros quatro, abrindo exceção apenas para a extensão, a dureza e semelhantes. Nada impede que se atribua também às formas da percepção, tempo e espaço, e às categorias do pensamento, realidade objetiva nas coisas mesmas. E a fisiologia dos sentidos não nos impede de ver precisamente nas diferentes relações e movimentos quantitativos o fundamento objetivo dos fenômenos qualitativos.

B. Empirismo.

4. Diametralmente oposto ao racionalismo está o empirismo, que já teve entre os gregos seus precursores nos atomistas, na Idade Média apareceu como nominalismo, na era moderna entrou com Bacon e, passando por Locke, Hume e os enciclopedistas franceses, desembocou neste século no positivismo de Comte, na filosofia da experiência de Stuart Mill, no agnosticismo de Spencer e no materialismo de Büchner e outros. Também o empirismo aparece em formas diversas, mas tem sempre por ponto de partida este princípio: só a percepção sensível é fonte do nosso conhecimento. Enquanto o racionalismo faz o mundo objetivo dirigir-se, no todo ou em parte, pelo espírito humano, o empirismo submete a consciência inteiramente ao mundo fora de nós. No esforço pelo conhecimento o homem nada traz consigo senão a capacidade de perceber; daí toma início e origem toda atividade intelectual. Não há, pois, conceitos inatos; todas as opiniões prévias o investigador deve pôr de lado. Do templo da verdade que quer erguer em sua consciência ele há de remover todos os idola; não a anticipatio mentis, mas a interpretatio naturae, a experiência pura, deve guiá-lo (Bacon). O espírito humano é e deve ser uma tabula rasa, in qua nihil scriptum est, inteiramente sem pressupostos. Só é confiável o conhecimento construído única e exclusivamente sobre a observação: conceitos sem intuições são vazios. Quanto mais o homem se afasta da experiência e vai além dela, tanto menos merece confiança em seu esforço científico. Por isso também não é possível ciência alguma do suprassensível e do sobrenatural. A metafísica, a teologia, as ciências do espírito em geral, e mesmo, segundo Comte, a psicologia, não são ciência em sentido próprio; a ciência limita-se às ciências exatas. E mesmo dentro do círculo dos fenômenos observáveis nosso conhecimento se restringe ao que e ao como; o quê e o porquê ficam ocultos. Causa e fim, origem e destinação das coisas estão fora do nosso alcance; apenas a relação mútua das coisas, as relações invariáveis de sucessão e semelhança, são objeto da investigação científica. Se por trás e acima dos fenômenos observáveis há ainda algo mais, se a alma, se Deus, se o além existe, poderá talvez tornar-se plausível por outro caminho — pela razão prática, pela fé, pela fantasia —, mas cientificamente tudo isso é e permanece terra incognita. O fim da ciência já não pode ser dar uma explicação do mundo, mas apenas um conhecimento da realidade tal que possamos com ele ordenar nossa vida e dele tirar proveito prático: saber é prever; da previsão, a ação. Mas essa sujeição absoluta do espírito ao mundo da observação levou outros a tentar explicar do mundo não só o conteúdo do pensamento, mas também a consciência e o próprio espírito: o empirismo terminou em materialismo. Também aqui, portanto, há história e desenvolvimento: primeiro o conteúdo do pensamento, depois a faculdade, por fim também a substância do espírito são derivados do mundo material.

5. Esse empirismo tem de fato um forte apoio na dependência do homem em relação à natureza que o cerca, mas está igualmente onerado de graves objeções. Em primeiro lugar, é certo que o espírito do homem em sua atividade intelectual nunca é passivo, nem mesmo receptivo em sentido absoluto, mas age sempre também ativamente, em maior ou menor grau. Pois não é o olho que vê e o ouvido que ouve, mas o homem mesmo, que vê pelo olho e ouve pelo ouvido. A mais simples sensação e representação já pressupõe consciência e, portanto, atividade da alma. Tabula rasa, na qual o mundo exterior possa escrever o que queira, o espírito humano nunca é; é ele mesmo que percebe, liga as percepções, compara, julga. Mas há mais. Diz Kant com razão: a experiência nos ensina, sim, que algo é assim ou assado, mas não que não possa ser de outro modo. Ora, temos não apenas verdades particulares e contingentes, mas também verdades gerais e necessárias, na lógica, na matemática e alhures, que os empiristas em vão tentaram derivar da experiência. O princípio de causalidade tem sido com verdade chamado o baluarte da escola intuitiva, e todo o esforço despendido para explicá-lo pela vontade ou pelo hábito ficou sem fruto. Mais ainda: todas as ciências partem de uma série de proposições não provadas e não prováveis, assumidas a priori, que servem de ponto de partida a todo raciocínio e a toda prova. Aristóteles já o viu: não há regresso ao infinito; justamente para ter força probante, as provas devem por fim repousar numa proposição que não precisa de prova, que repousa em si mesma e por isso pode servir de principium argumentationis. Um edifício não pode ficar no ar, e uma argumentação só pode assentar sobre um fundamento que está firme por evidência, e não por prova.

Com isso está julgado o ponto de partida do empirismo; mas também a sua concepção de ciência está sujeita a séria objeção. Pois pertence à ciência, por sua natureza, dar conhecimento do geral, do necessário e eterno, do lógico, da ideia. O conhecimento de fenômenos, pessoas e fatos é bom, mas é apenas trabalho preparatório; a análise deve ir adiante, mas a síntese tem de seguir. Só há ciência quando penetramos as coisas em sua causa e em sua essência, em seu fim e em sua destinação, quando conhecemos não só o "que" mas também o "por que" e assim discernimos as causas das coisas. O empirismo, porém, é forçado a negar a todas as ciências o nome de ciência e a reservá-lo apenas às ciências exatas. Mas essa limitação é impossível por duas razões. Primeiro, porque, fora as ciências puramente formais — e mesmo essas só em certo sentido —, não há ciência possível sem um elemento filosófico, de modo que em toda ciência a descoberta, a intuição, a imaginação, numa palavra o gênio, e com ele a hipótese científica, ocupam lugar importantíssimo. Segundo, porque o nome de ciência ficaria afinal reservado a umas poucas disciplinas auxiliares, e justamente aquele conhecimento que para o homem é o mais importante, e pelo qual em primeiro lugar ele investiga, seria banido do domínio da ciência. Continua verdadeiro o que, seguindo o exemplo de Aristóteles, disse Tomás de Aquino: o mínimo que se pode ter do conhecimento das coisas altíssimas é mais desejável do que o conhecimento certíssimo que se tem das coisas mínimas.

Além disso, o mundo das coisas espirituais, o mundo dos valores — do bem e do mal, do direito e do costume, da religião e da moral, de tudo o que nos inspira amor e ódio, nos eleva e consola ou nos abate e fere —, todo esse rico mundo invisível é para nós realidade tanto quanto o mundo que percebemos com os sentidos; e seu poder sobre a nossa vida e na história da humanidade é ainda muito maior que o das coisas visíveis à nossa volta. Pode-se muito bem impor ao homem a exigência de que se limite em sua investigação, porque nesse terreno nenhum conhecimento é possível; mas essa exigência esbarra no que Schopenhauer chamou a necessidade metafísica do espírito humano. O homem não é apenas um ser intelectual, mas também volitivo e sensível; não é uma máquina de pensar, mas tem, além da cabeça, também um coração, um mundo de emoções e paixões. Isso ele traz consigo à investigação científica; em sua atividade no gabinete e no laboratório não pode excluir a si mesmo. Não se pode exigir que o homem, no trabalho científico, isto é, numa das mais nobres e altas atividades do seu espírito, imponha silêncio ao seu ânimo, ao seu coração, ao que nele há de melhor, e assim se mutile. Isto somente se pode exigir sempre, e portanto também do cultor da ciência: que ele seja um homem bom, um homem verdadeiro, um homem de Deus, perfeitamente habilitado para toda boa obra, também para esta obra da ciência.

Se, porém, se limita a ciência tanto no sentido subjetivo quanto no objetivo, nada mais se obterá senão que por outros caminhos se busque prover à necessidade metafísica. Comte introduziu um culto da humanidade e a ele se consagrou como sumo sacerdote; todos procuram de um modo ou de outro, até no espiritismo, na magia e na teosofia, compensação para o que a ciência não lhes concede. E a religião, com todo o conhecimento espiritual, primeiro expulsa com desprezo pela porta da frente, é de novo admitida — muitas vezes em forma supersticiosa — pela porta dos fundos: expulsa-se a natureza com o forcado, e ela sempre volta. A consequência inevitável é apenas esta, que a ciência fica indefesa e desarmada diante do materialismo. E a isso o empirismo de fato conduziu. Se o conteúdo e em seguida também a faculdade intelectual da alma vêm inteiramente do mundo exterior, por que não haveria de poder explicar-se afinal também a substância da alma a partir dele? Contra isso, porém, permanecem de pé os "sete enigmas do mundo", tormento e escândalo para o pensamento materialista. O espiritual ainda não foi explicado pelo material, tão pouco quanto o racionalismo conseguiu derivar o ser do pensar. A transição entre ambos não foi achada. Há aqui um abismo que nem o idealismo nem o materialismo conseguem transpor; não é temerário falar aqui não só de um ignoramus, mas também de um ignorabimus. Mas quando vemos como empirismo e racionalismo, apesar das grandes promessas e das expectativas ainda maiores, neste século não terminaram senão em materialismo e ilusionismo, e como, apesar da sua oposição, se promoveram e se auxiliaram mutuamente — o idealismo de Hegel acabou, com Feuerbach e Strauss, em materialismo, e o materialismo, em muitos investigadores da natureza, passa de novo a um idealismo meio ou inteiro —, então há de fato razão para perguntar se não é necessária uma revisão de toda a filosofia moderna, tanto na sua direção cartesiana quanto na baconiana; se não há outros e melhores principia da ciência, que nos preservem do materialismo e do idealismo.

C. Realismo.

6. O ponto de partida da teoria do conhecimento deve ser a experiência comum e cotidiana, a certeza geral e natural que o homem tem acerca da objetividade e da verdade do seu conhecimento. Pois a filosofia não cria a faculdade de conhecer e o conhecer, mas encontra-os e procura explicá-los; e toda solução que não explica a faculdade de conhecer, mas a destrói, e que não compreende o conhecer, mas o transforma em ilusão, está por isso mesmo julgada. Só tem chance de êxito uma teoria do conhecimento que, por um lado, não abandona o terreno da experiência e, por outro, penetra em toda a profundidade do problema: primeiro o homem, depois o filósofo. A certeza natural é o fundamento indispensável da ciência. O conhecer científico não é destruição, mas purificação, ampliação e complemento do conhecer ordinário. Pois todo homem admite a confiabilidade dos sentidos e a existência do mundo exterior, não por uma conclusão lógica que vá do efeito — no caso, a representação em sua consciência — à causa fora de si, nem por um raciocínio que vá da resistência que sua vontade experimenta à realidade objetiva que oferece essa resistência; mas antes de toda reflexão e de todo raciocínio cada um está plenamente seguro da existência real do mundo. Essa certeza não nasce de um silogismo e não repousa em prova alguma; é imediata, surge espontaneamente em mim com a própria percepção, não é produto, mas fundamento e ponto de partida de toda outra certeza. Cumpre apenas distinguir aqui entre a certeza que é dada de uma vez com a percepção atual de um objeto e aquela que mais tarde, quando a percepção já passou há muito, se segue da representação que ficou. Só da primeira se trata aqui, e ela não é conclusão de um raciocínio, mas está imediatamente presente em mim com a percepção mesma.

7. Este único fato, a certeza natural acerca da confiabilidade dos sentidos e da realidade do mundo exterior, já prova que existe ainda outra certeza além da científica, demonstrativa. Os empiristas erradamente a negaram. A experiência ensina apenas que algo é, não que deva ser; ensina-nos apenas o contingente, o mutável; dá-nos a conhecer a realidade. Nós, porém, temos também verdades gerais e necessárias, das quais estamos certos não por observação e raciocínio, mas a priori. A maioria dos filósofos, por isso, admitiu, ao lado da certeza científica ou mediata, também uma certeza metafísica, intuitiva, imediata, chamada também certeza de fé, de evidência. Aristóteles foi o primeiro a ver com clareza que a ciência se edifica, em última instância, sobre verdades evidentes e indemonstráveis. Alguns, como Platão, Descartes e Leibniz, procuraram explicar esse caráter imutável e eterno da verdade pela doutrina das ideias inatas. Mas essa doutrina repousa sobre um dualismo insustentável de sujeito e objeto, torna o espírito humano independente do cosmo, é em princípio racionalista e leva lógica e historicamente ao idealismo absoluto. Foi por isso que a doutrina das ideae innatae foi unanimemente rejeitada pelos teólogos escolásticos e também pelos reformados. Eles chegaram a adotar a proposição empirista nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu — nada há no intelecto que antes não tenha estado nos sentidos — e a falar do homem, antes que perceba, como de uma tabula rasa, in qua nihil scriptum est. E o sustentavam porque o homem, à diferença dos anjos, é corpóreo; seu corpo não é uma prisão, mas pertence à sua natureza, e por esse corpo ele está ligado ao cosmo. Rejeitaram assim o racionalismo do modo mais decidido possível, não só na forma dos conceitos inatos, em que foi ensinado por Platão, Descartes e Leibniz, mas também na das formas inatas, em que apareceu com Kant, e na da ideia inata do ser, em que emergiu com Rosmini e os ontologistas.

Por outro lado, aquelas expressões não podem ser entendidas no sentido do empirismo de Locke. Se Tomás chama o espírito humano uma tabula rasa, de modo algum quer com isso negar que lhe seja inato o ipse intellectus. Leibniz acrescentou ao adágio a restrição nisi ipse intellectus; e Tomás se exprime ainda com mais precisão: as espécies dos outros inteligíveis não lhe são inatas, mas a sua própria essência lhe é inata, de modo que não precisa adquiri-la dos fantasmas. E Voécio explica o adágio no sentido de que com ele não se exclui que o intelecto possa notar e conhecer, no mundo sensivelmente percebido, também o eterno e imutável, por exemplo, nas obras da natureza, o seu autor, Deus. E este é então o pensamento próprio da sua teoria do conhecimento: o espírito humano não é capaz, e em todo caso não está em condição, de produzir fora do mundo sensível, do seu próprio fundo e com os seus próprios meios, o conhecimento das coisas, nem mesmo o conhecimento dos principia aeterna, das noções comuns. Está desde o início ligado ao corpo e por ele ao cosmo, e por isso também o intelecto só pode chegar à atividade por meio dos sentidos e com base neles. O intelecto é no princípio pura potência, tabula rasa, sem conteúdo algum, e é primeiro despertado de fora, pelo mundo sensível, à atividade, à atualidade. O impulso procede, portanto, do mundo sensível: este age sobre o espírito humano, desperta-o e o incita à ação. Mas assim que o intelecto começa a trabalhar, trabalha também, de pronto e por si mesmo, ao seu modo e segundo a sua própria natureza. E a natureza do intelecto consiste nisto: que ele possui a força, a faculdade, a inclinação, a aptidão de formar, na percepção e com ela, de si mesmo, involuntariamente, sem esforço algum, sem estudo prévio, sem raciocínio, aqueles conceitos e princípios fundamentais que estão firmes a priori, antes de todo raciocínio e de toda prova, e por isso merecem ser chamados veritates aeternae. Assim o próprio pensar, tão logo começa a trabalhar, sente-se por si ligado às leis do pensamento; nele mesmo as leis do pensamento estão encerradas e vêm à luz. Assim a experiência nos ensina o que é uma parte e o que é um todo, mas o intelecto compreende de imediato que um todo é maior que a sua parte. Isso não quer dizer que todo homem possa dar conta clara, a si ou a outros, desses conceitos e princípios fundamentais; mas todo homem, mesmo o mais simples, os aplica na vida sem nenhuma reflexão científica, inconscientemente e com a maior certeza.

A diferença entre esta doutrina da faculdade de conhecer e a do racionalismo e do empirismo está em dois pontos: primeiro, numa concepção peculiar do intelecto, que traz consigo uma natureza própria e começa a trabalhar de modo correspondentemente próprio; e segundo, em que esse intelecto, trabalhando assim segundo a sua natureza, não faz outra coisa senão abstrair das coisas percebidas aquele elemento lógico que por natureza jaz oculto nelas mesmas. O racionalismo obriga as coisas a conformar-se ao intelecto, encaixa-as em formas de que não sabe se lhes servem, constrói o mundo segundo um jogo de conceitos. O empirismo obriga o espírito a conformar-se ao mundo sensível, corta-lhe as asas no seu voo ideal e por fim o explica a ele mesmo pela matéria. Mas a teoria do conhecimento que foi surgindo aos poucos na teologia cristã, e que em suas linhas capitais foi primeiro concebida por Agostinho, mantém as duas coisas: a liberdade de subir ao mundo do ideal e a ligação pela qual, também nesse voo, não perde de sob os pés o mundo da realidade.

8. O ponto de partida de todo conhecimento no homem é, portanto, a percepção sensível. Todo conhecimento intelectual começa pelos sentidos, dizia Tomás com Aristóteles; nosso intelecto nada entende sem um fantasma. E todos os teólogos cristãos pensaram o mesmo. O erro da escolástica, entre protestantes como entre católicos romanos, esteve apenas nisto: que deu por encerrada a observação cedo demais e julgou que tudo, em todo campo da ciência, já estava recolhido e depositado nos livros de Euclides, de Aristóteles, dos pais da igreja, na confissão. Nessa opinião, negligenciou-se a observação e começou-se logo pelos conceitos já obtidos. Por isso quase se pôde chamar descoberta o retorno de Bacon à percepção sensível como à única fonte do conhecimento. E não era descoberta, mas era de fato um renovamento necessário para a ciência, pois esta deve sempre voltar às fontes. Não dos livros, mas do mundo real é que se há de tirar a verdade. A intuição é a fonte de toda ciência genuína: as intuições são o dinheiro vivo, os conceitos são as cédulas.

Ora, nessa percepção sensível cada sentido tem sua natureza e sua tarefa próprias, e busca nos fenômenos o que lhe é aparentado: o tato nos dá a conhecer o mecânico, o gosto e o olfato o químico, o ouvido nos abre o mundo dos sons e a vista o das cores. Cada sentido, por si só, não percebe portanto o objeto inteiro, mas apenas certas propriedades dele. A imagem perceptiva que surge em nossa consciência compõe-se de muitas impressões diferentes, recebidas pelos diversos sentidos, transmitidas pelas fibras nervosas ao cérebro, ali convertidas de modo inexplicável em sensações e ligadas num todo. Não há sensações simples; todas já são compostas de outras; todo objeto que vemos, todo som que ouvimos já é um complexo de percepções. O espírito humano já está, pois, ativo nas mais simples percepções; não é a tabula rasa em que o mundo exterior escreve o que quer. Toda imagem perceptiva é formada na própria consciência a partir dos fatores que os diferentes sentidos fornecem do objeto. Por isso é de tão grande importância a questão de qual seja a relação entre a imagem perceptiva, a representação em nossa consciência, e a realidade, o objeto, fora de nós.

A filosofia grega partia em geral do pensamento de que o semelhante só pelo semelhante pode ser conhecido. Alguns concluíram daí que a alma do homem devia constar dos mesmos elementos e átomos que o mundo real, e que na percepção átomos materiais penetravam dos objetos na alma. Aristóteles, porém, entendeu isso assim: a alma é, não atualmente, mas potencialmente, tudo o que é pensado, e os objetos adquirem pela percepção e pelo pensamento uma existência ideal na alma. A escolástica adotou-o e disse: o conhecido está no conhecedor segundo o modo do conhecedor, não segundo o modo do conhecido; isto é, as coisas mesmas não passam para dentro da alma, mas apenas a sua imagem, a sua forma, a species. Há portanto, de um lado, uma diferença essencial entre a coisa e a sua representação, pois aquela está fora de nós e ali tem existência real, ao passo que esta existe em nós e só tem existência ideal; mas há, de outro lado, também plena correspondência: a representação é imagem, reprodução ideal e fiel do objeto fora de nós. A filosofia moderna, porém, atenta à atividade da consciência do homem na formação das imagens perceptivas, cavou um abismo cada vez maior entre coisa e representação. As imagens perceptivas não são species, formae, mas quando muito sinais, símbolos, esquemas do mundo exterior, livremente formados em nosso espírito por ocasião das modificações que de fora, pelos sentidos e nervos, se produzem em nossas células cerebrais. Se assim é, o mundo objetivo desaparece cada vez mais da nossa vista e se dissolve em aparência, pois um confronto da imagem perceptiva com a realidade se torna impossível: nunca podemos chegar a ela, e a imagem perceptiva se interpõe sempre entre ela e nós.

O erro que está na base dessa teoria parece ser este: que o objeto próprio da nossa percepção não seria a coisa fora de nós, mas alguma impressão ou vibração dos nossos nervos em nós. Ora, é certo que nenhuma representação se forma em nossa consciência sem que se transmitam vibrações pelos nervos até as células cerebrais. Mas nem a imagem que se projeta na retina do olho nem as modificações das células cerebrais em consequência das vibrações nervosas são a causa da qual nasce a sensação e a representação em nossa consciência. Todas as investigações psicométricas, por importantes que sejam, não nos aproximaram um passo da explicação desse fenômeno admirável; estamos aqui diante de um enigma ao que parece insolúvel. As vibrações nervosas podem ser seguidas até o centro do cérebro, sua força e sua velocidade podem ser calculadas; mas a representação que depois surge em nossa consciência é toto genere distinta disso: é um ato psíquico, espiritual, jamais explicável por fenômenos físicos como são as vibrações nervosas. As representações não podem, pois, ser produtos gerados em nossa consciência pelas vibrações nervosas sem que o saibamos. E também não podem ser criações conscientes do nosso espírito por ocasião das modificações das células cerebrais, pela simples razão de que ninguém sabe coisa alguma de todo esse processo de vibrações nervosas na percepção, e só por deliberada investigação fisiológica adquire conhecimento dele. Acresce que as vibrações nervosas e as modificações cerebrais às vezes se dão de modo puramente mecânico — ver sem reparar, ouvir sem entender —, ao passo que na percepção efetiva vêm sempre acompanhadas de um ato psíquico. Não é que as vibrações sejam primeiro transmitidas ao cérebro e só depois desperte a consciência e forme a representação a partir daquelas modificações; a percepção mesma, pelos sentidos, é um ato de consciência. É o espírito do homem que vê pelo olho e ouve pelo ouvido. O objeto da percepção não é, portanto, um fenômeno em mim, mas a coisa fora de mim. O mesmo espírito que vê o objeto é também o que forma a representação; ambos são atos psíquicos. Por isso também não há razão alguma para duvidar de que nas representações temos uma reprodução fiel e ideal dos objetos fora de nós. Nesse sentido é até certo ponto indiferente que chamemos as representações species, formae, sinais ou símbolos das coisas, pois também essas palavras são imagens, tomadas em sua maior parte da percepção visual; contanto que fique firme que as representações, no seu todo e nas suas partes, são interpretações fiéis do mundo da realidade fora de nós.

9. Mas o espírito humano não para nessas representações. O conhecimento científico não nasce dos sentidos, mas do intelecto. Não a mera observação, mas a séria reflexão sobre os fenômenos observados fez de Newton o descobridor da gravitação. A observação dos fenômenos é necessária e boa, mas não é o único nem o mais alto. O objeto da ciência não é o particular, mas o universal, o lógico, a ideia. A filosofia grega já o vira: Platão distinguia entre a "opinião", que tem por conteúdo o conhecimento comum e empírico, e a "ciência", que tem por conteúdo o verdadeiro ser das coisas; e Aristóteles definiu a ciência como conhecimento do ser, do universal, das primeiras causas e princípios. Agostinho pôs esse conhecimento intelectual em primeiro plano. Não rejeita o conhecimento pelos sentidos — defende sua verdade contra os acadêmicos e reconhece que compreendemos as coisas invisíveis de Deus pelas que foram feitas —, mas, como Platão, subestima o seu valor: o sensível dá apenas opinião, não é a verdade mesma, é somente uma imagem dela; o conhecimento da natureza de nada aproveita. Há realmente só duas coisas que importa conhecer, Deus e a nós mesmos: "desejo conhecer Deus e a alma. Nada mais? Absolutamente nada." E esse conhecimento ele obtém não olhando para fora, mas olhando para dentro: não queiras sair de ti, volta a ti mesmo; no homem interior habita a verdade — não pela observação sensível, mas pelo pensamento. A escolástica, ligando-se mais de perto a Aristóteles, viu melhor o valor da observação sensível, mas reconheceu igualmente por inteiro o significado do intelecto para a ciência. Tomás exprimiu-o breve e claramente: não há ciência dos singulares, o intelecto é dos universais. A ciência tem por objeto o universal e o necessário e só pode, por isso, ser dada pelo intelecto; pois, enquanto a observação sensível considera as coisas quanto aos seus acidentes exteriores, é próprio do intelecto penetrar até o interior da coisa, até a sua essência: seu objeto próprio é a quidditas rei materialis. O intelecto, a saber, como intellectus agens, isto é, como poder de abstração, separa o universal das representações sensíveis; deixa cair delas o particular, brilha sobre elas como uma luz, torna-as inteligíveis, faz o universal tornar-se cognoscível a partir delas; e então, como intellectus possibilis, isto é, como faculdade intelectual de conhecer, recolhe esse universal em si e o faz propriedade do espírito.

Ora, até aqui não há de fato divergência: não a percepção sensível, mas o entendimento é o órgão da ciência. Também o empirismo não o negou. Bacon, Hume e Stuart Mill reconhecem plenamente que a percepção sensível é o primeiro, mas não o único, e que o entendimento procura pela indução derivar o geral do particular; Bacon buscava justamente um método seguro pelo qual, de observações particulares, se pudessem formar juízos de validade geral. Mas com os conceitos que o entendimento forma a partir das representações volta, com dobrada seriedade, a pergunta já feita acima a propósito das imagens perceptivas: qual é a relação entre esses conceitos do entendimento e o mundo da realidade? E aqui nominalismo e realismo se separam. Ambas as direções ocorrem, quanto ao essencial, já na filosofia grega: Platão e Aristóteles eram realistas, ainda que com distinção; e o pensamento próprio do nominalismo encontramo-lo já no cínico Antístenes, que negava a realidade dos conceitos gerais e dizia contra Platão: vejo o cavalo, mas não vejo a cavalidade. Na Idade Média essa concepção dos conceitos gerais foi renovada e recebeu o nome de nominalismo. Roscelino era de opinião que os conceitos gerais são apenas flatus vocis, entes de pensamento a que não corresponde realidade alguma: na realidade não há coisas gerais, mas só coisas particulares, individuais; não há humanidade, mas só seres humanos. A luta entre realismo e nominalismo prosseguiu até o século XV; mas mesmo depois disso a questão não se apartou da filosofia. A disputa entre realismo e nominalismo não é um ponto de contenda de sutileza escolástica, mas de significação profunda; o nominalismo reapareceu, em forma mais nova, como empirismo na filosofia moderna.

Se o nominalismo tem razão, é o fim de toda ciência. Pois uma de duas: se podemos resumir num conceito e numa palavra as notas correspondentes de um grupo de coisas, ou isso se dá sem fundamento — e então essas palavras e conceitos não representam valor algum na realidade —, ou as coisas realmente se assemelham entre si e têm notas comuns; nesse caso, porém, os conceitos não são entes de pensamento vazios, mas a soma das propriedades essenciais das coisas, e portanto não nomina, mas res. Por isso o realismo tinha sem dúvida razão ao admitir a realidade dos conceitos gerais, não em sentido platônico ou ontológico ante rem, mas em sentido aristotélico in re, e por isso também in mente hominis post rem. O geral que exprimimos no conceito não existe assim, como universal, fora de nós; mas, individualizado e especializado em cada exemplar da espécie, tem contudo seu fundamento nas coisas, é delas abstraído pela atividade do entendimento e expresso num conceito. Com os conceitos, portanto, não nos afastamos da realidade, mas dela nos aproximamos cada vez mais. Parece, é certo, que, formando conceitos, juízos e conclusões, perdemos cada vez mais o chão firme sob o edifício do nosso conhecimento e flutuamos no ar; parece estranho e maravilhoso que, convertendo as representações em conceitos e tornando a elaborá-los segundo as leis do pensamento, obtenhamos resultados concordes com a realidade. E, no entanto, quem abandona essa convicção está perdido. Mas essa convicção só pode repousar na fé de que é um só e o mesmo Logos que criou tanto a realidade fora de nós quanto as leis do pensamento dentro de nós, e que pôs ambas em conexão orgânica e as fez corresponder uma à outra. Só assim é possível a ciência, isto é, o conhecimento não apenas da aparência mutável, mas do geral, do lógico nas coisas. Certamente o ser mesmo das coisas, a sua existência, permanece fora de nós; nunca as coisas mesmas entram realiter em nós; o ser nunca nos é acessível, é um factum que se há de aceitar e que constitui o fundamento do pensar. Mas na medida em que as coisas também existem logicamente, procederam do pensamento e nele repousam (Jo 1.3; Cl 1.15), são também compreensíveis e pensáveis para o espírito humano.

10. Platão esclareceu esse processo da ciência por uma imagem bela e expressiva. Assim como o sol ilumina objetivamente o objeto e subjetivamente o nosso olho, assim Deus, ou a ideia do bem, é a luz pela qual a verdade, o ser das coisas, se torna visível e pela qual, ao mesmo tempo, o nosso espírito pode contemplar e reconhecer essa verdade. Agostinho adotou a imagem: Deus é o sol dos espíritos; na luz imutável da verdade a mente racional e intelectual contempla e julga a respeito de todas as coisas; assim como com o olho corporal nada podemos ver se o sol não espalha sobre ele a sua luz, assim também não podemos ver verdade alguma senão na luz de Deus, que é o sol do nosso conhecimento. Tomás fala repetidas vezes do mesmo modo e emprega a mesma comparação; apenas advertiu que isso não se deve entender panteisticamente, como ensinou Averróis sob influência neoplatônica e como depois o seguiram Malebranche e a escola ontologista. Assim como no ver natural — diz Tomás — vemos não por estarmos nós mesmos no sol, mas pela luz do sol que sobre nós brilha, assim também não vemos as coisas na essência divina, mas pela luz que de Deus brilha em nosso próprio intelecto. A razão em nós é essa luz divina; não é o Logos divino mesmo, mas tem parte nele: a Deus pertence o ser, o viver e o entender por essência; a nós, por participação.

Essa imagem do sol levou a falar, em sentido são, da luz natural da razão, sob a qual nada mais se entendia senão aquela propriedade ou força permanente do espírito humano pela qual ele é capaz de formar, logo às primeiras observações, aqueles conceitos e princípios fundamentais que daí em diante o guiam em toda observação e em todo pensamento. A luz da razão é assim, em primeiro lugar, semelhante ao intellectus agens, ao poder de abstração, que brilha sobre os objetos e faz sair deles o inteligível; e, além disso, àquele cabedal de noções comuns que o nosso espírito faz seu precisamente por esse poder de abstração. Mas em ambos os sentidos essa luz há de ser atribuída a Deus, ou mais precisamente ao Logos (Sl 36.10; Jo 1.9). É ele que a faz nascer em nós e continuamente a mantém. E assim não é ao homem, que é apenas instrumento, mas a Deus que se há de atribuir que, pelos raios dessa luz, a verdade se revele ao nosso espírito.

Essa bela metáfora nos torna claro quais são os principia de que procede toda ciência. Não só na teologia, como o § anterior nos mostrou, mas em toda ciência há três principia a distinguir. Também aqui Deus é o principium essendi; em sua autoconsciência estão as ideias de todas as coisas; todas as coisas repousam em pensamentos e foram criadas pela palavra. Mas é do seu beneplácito transferir dessa cognitio archetypa de sua consciência divina um conhecimento ectípico para o homem, feito à sua imagem. E o faz, não deixando-nos contemplar as ideias em sua essência (Malebranche), nem tampouco dando-no-las todas já ao nascer (Platão, com a doutrina das ideias inatas), mas espalhando-as nas obras de suas mãos diante do espírito do homem. O mundo é uma incorporação dos pensamentos de Deus; é um livro belíssimo, em que todas as criaturas, grandes e pequenas, são como letras que nos dão a ver as coisas invisíveis de Deus; não é um caderno de escrever, em que, segundo a representação dos idealistas, tivéssemos nós de preencher as palavras, mas um livro de leitura, do qual Deus nos dá a conhecer o que nele escreveu para nós. O mundo criado é assim o principium cognoscendi externum de toda ciência. Mas isso não basta. Para ver, é preciso um olho: se o olho não fosse solar, como poderíamos ver a luz? Tem de haver correspondência, afinidade, entre objeto e sujeito. O mesmo Logos que brilha no mundo deve também fazer brilhar a sua luz em nossa consciência. Esse é o intelecto, a ratio, que, ele mesmo derivado do Logos, descobre e reconhece o Logos nas coisas: é o principium cognoscendi internum. Assim como a ciência em nós é uma selagem das coisas em nossas almas, assim, ao contrário, as formas não são senão uma certa selagem da ciência divina nas coisas. É pois Deus somente que, de sua consciência divina, traz o conhecimento da verdade, por meio das criaturas, ao nosso espírito: o Pai, que pelo Filho, no Espírito, se revela a nós. Muitos dizem: quem nos mostrará o bem? Levantada está sobre nós, Senhor, a luz do teu rosto!

§ 8. Os princípios na religião

A. A essência da religião

1. Assim como a ciência, também a religião tem seus principia. Para conhecê-los é necessário antes de tudo determinar a essência da religião, especialmente também na sua distinção da ciência e da arte. O nome dá pouca luz. Cícero deriva a palavra de relegere, reler, percorrer de novo, observar cuidadosamente, e designa assim a religião como uma observância contínua e zelosa de tudo o que pertence à veneração dos deuses. Lactâncio explica-a a partir de religare e entende por religião o laço que liga o homem a Deus; outros a derivaram de relinquere, porque tudo o que pertence à religião, por sua santidade, é separado do que não é santo, e Agostinho ligou-a uma vez a re-eligere: na religião elegemos de novo a Deus, que havíamos perdido pelo pecado, como fonte da nossa salvação. Estas três últimas derivações esbarram em objeção gramatical e tampouco explicam os sentidos peculiares que religio possui em latim; há ainda a que remonta a um radical perdido ligere, ver, donde religere, olhar para trás, e religio, o olhar em torno com temor. Entre a derivação de Cícero e esta última a disputa ainda não foi decidida; mas materialmente ambas concordam nisto: religio designa a religião como uma atitude de temor tímido diante da Divindade e, daí decorrente, como uma observância ansiosamente escrupulosa do que o culto dos deuses exige. A palavra não é, pois, de modo algum apta a exprimir o conteúdo pleno da religião cristã. Mas o uso e a derivação de Lactâncio, que encontrou aceitação geral, cristianizaram a palavra; a Vulgata adotou-a, e ela passou a todas as línguas europeias, obtendo e conservando direito de cidade ao lado de "serviço de Deus", "piedade" e "devoção".

2. A Sagrada Escritura não dá definição alguma e tampouco possui um conceito geral para designar o fenômeno da religião. Tem palavras separadas para o lado objetivo e para o lado subjetivo. A religio objectiva é idêntica à revelação de Deus e consiste na aliança que Deus deu a Israel, e que por isso pode em pleno sentido chamar-se uma instituição divina. As ordenanças dessa aliança, que Israel deve observar, formam juntas o conteúdo da torá — instrução, doutrina, lei, livro da lei do Senhor — e são designadas por nomes muito diversos: palavras, mandamentos, preceitos, estatutos, decisões, juízos, caminhos e veredas, ordenanças a guardar. A multiplicidade das expressões indica como na religião de Israel o objetivo, a ordenança de Deus, está em primeiro plano. A essa religio objectiva corresponde subjetivamente o temor do Senhor, que exprime a disposição interior do israelita piedoso diante das leis santas que Deus lhe prescreveu observar. Mas esse temor é essencialmente distinto da timidez ansiosa que originalmente está encerrada na palavra latina religio. Vê-se isso de que ele passa e se liga a toda sorte de outras disposições religiosas: crer, confiar, refugiar-se, apoiar-se, apegar-se, esperar, aguardar, e até amar a Deus. Os direitos do Senhor não permanecem, como objeto de terror e medo, fora e acima do israelita, mas tornam-se objeto do seu amor; ele os medita com o entendimento e os pratica com a vontade; são a sua delícia o dia inteiro.

No Novo Testamento encontramos em substância a mesma concepção. Mas agora Deus dá a sua revelação não numa série de leis, e sim na pessoa de Cristo. Este é o caminho e a verdade. O "caminho do Senhor", a "doutrina", o "evangelho", a "palavra de Deus" concentram-se todos em torno de Cristo e não são senão explicitação de sua pessoa e de sua obra. Correspondentemente muda também a disposição subjetiva. As palavras gregas correntes não serviam para exprimi-la em seu caráter próprio: a que significa temor supersticioso é usada da religião judaica e da pagã; a "reverência a Deus" ocorre uma só vez; a eusebeia indica reverência santa para com Deus, é aparentada em sentido à pietas latina e exprime, portanto, uma disposição como a que também os filhos têm para com os pais — e o que a eusebeia propriamente é e deve ser só foi revelado no Evangelho. O temor tampouco desapareceu de todo da religio subjectiva no Novo Testamento, mas ocorre muito mais raramente como descrição da disposição religiosa; na maioria das passagens refere-se a acontecimentos particulares, como o juízo de Deus, e foi substituído pelo amor. A palavra ordinária para a religio subjectiva no Novo Testamento é pistis, fé. À alegre mensagem do perdão e da salvação em Cristo corresponde, do lado do homem, a fé, que é confiança filial na graça de Deus e por isso opera também imediatamente o amor em nosso coração. Fé e amor são as disposições fundamentais da piedade cristã. As palavras que designam o serviço e o culto exprimem o culto que se presta a Deus a partir do princípio da fé.

3. A Sagrada Escritura não dá, portanto, descrição alguma da essência da religião tal como, segundo a concepção moderna, ela subjaz a todas as religiões. Mas delineia e descreve como religião apenas aquela relação entre Deus e o homem que foi regulada e determinada pelo próprio Deus. Do mesmo modo, a teologia antiga sempre partiu, ao determinar a essência da religião, da religio vera. E esse método ainda se recomenda por sua correção. Só pode contestá-lo quem julgue que as categorias de verdadeiro e falso não se aplicam às religiões, porque nenhum conhecimento do sobrenatural é possível, e que por isso as representações nada têm que ver com a disposição religiosa. Esse indiferentismo, porém, é insustentável: também o conhecer é elemento essencial da religião. Admitido por um momento que haja conhecimento do sobrenatural e que exista uma religio vera, então nenhuma objeção se concebe contra derivar dela a definição da essência da religião e usá-la como padrão na avaliação das outras religiões. Nenhuma religião pode ter algo contra ser testada pelo conceito puro de religião. O falso só se conhece pelo genuíno, e a mentira se descobre pela verdade. Em nenhum domínio é possível juízo e avaliação corretos das coisas sem um padrão fixo e positivo: assim é no direito, na moral, na estética, e assim é também na religião. O estudo das religiões pressupõe que ao menos saibamos algo do que a religião é.

Seguindo o exemplo da Escritura, temos de distinguir, na investigação da essência da religião, o seu lado objetivo e o seu lado subjetivo. Essa distinção é evidente e está presente em toda religião. A religio objectiva tem a precedência. Todos os homens a encontram ao nascer; crescem nela como na família, na sociedade, na igreja, no Estado. São todas instituições e potências objetivas, que não surgem arbitrariamente do homem e por ele, mas que o recebem ao nascer, o formam e o educam, e mesmo contra a sua vontade continuam a governá-lo a vida inteira. Está em conflito com a história e com a psicologia partir, na determinação da essência da religião, da religio subjectiva, e ver então nas diversas religiões apenas formas mutáveis e expressões indiferentes da vida dela. Assim se desconhece a experiência diária, nega-se o poder da religio objectiva e inverte-se de modo revolucionário toda relação de objeto e sujeito. Muito certamente também a religio objectiva tem a sua origem, que deve ser buscada e explicada. Mas todas as religiões cuja origem nos é em alguma medida conhecida mostram que surgiram em ligação com o que já existia e estão na mais estreita relação com todo o meio histórico. Não há uma única religião que seja expressão pura da disposição religiosa e se explique só a partir dela. A religio subjectiva modifica e remodela as representações e os usos religiosos existentes e muitas vezes os anima com vida nova; mas não cria: ela mesma surge sempre e em toda parte sob a influência e a operação das religiões existentes. Fundadores de religião, no sentido próprio, não existem. A religio objectiva é a lareira da religio subjectiva.

Acresce que todas as religiões querem ser consideradas não como expressão e forma de uma disposição religiosa, mas como fruto de revelação. Não derivam sua origem do homem, mas de Deus. Quer se deixe valer esse apelo à revelação, quer não, o fato fala forte demais e é geral demais para não ter de ser explicado. Indica que o conceito de religião está inseparavelmente ligado ao de revelação. Não há religião sem revelação; a revelação é o fundamento e a origem de toda religião. Não é, pois, permitido ao homem de ciência eliminar já a priori esse conceito de revelação e ver nas religiões apenas formas de uma só e mesma essência. Também a Escritura deriva a religio objectiva da revelação: Deus, tendo outrora falado muitas vezes e de muitos modos aos pais pelos profetas, falou-nos nestes últimos dias pelo Filho (Hb 1). Está ademais na natureza da coisa que revelação e religião estejam estreitissimamente ligadas: só Deus pode determinar o modo pelo qual quer ser servido pelos homens — não cabe aos homens instituir e formar o culto de Deus, mas receber e guardar o que por Deus foi transmitido. Segundo a doutrina da Escritura, Deus o fez em parte pela natureza, em parte por sua Palavra. A religio objectiva coincide assim com a torá, tomada no sentido mais amplo, isto é, com toda aquela instrução do Senhor que nos vem de lei e evangelho, palavra e fato, história e profecia. É o conteúdo principal da Escritura e a matéria da dogmática. Não é senão o modo como o próprio Deus determinou que quer ser servido e honrado.

Formalmente todas as religiões concordam, e a concordância vai ainda mais longe: todas se compõem de algumas partes constitutivas que constantemente retornam. Em primeiro lugar, há em toda religião uma tradição a respeito de sua origem divina; toda religião apela para uma revelação — é o elemento histórico, positivo, o elemento da tradição. Em seguida, há em toda religião uma certa doutrina, na qual Deus revela ao homem o conhecimento indispensável ao seu serviço: é o que se designa com a palavra dogma. Além disso, toda religião contém certas leis, que prescrevem ao homem o que deve fazer e omitir para poder viver em comunhão com Deus: é a doutrina moral. E por fim há em toda religião um número maior ou menor de cerimônias, isto é, de formas e usos solenes que também exteriormente exprimem, acompanham e fortalecem a comunhão do homem com Deus: é o elemento cúltico ou litúrgico. Nas diversas religiões a relação mútua dessas partes é muito diferente — numas há muito dogma e pouco culto, e inversamente; noutras, rica tradição e pequeno número de prescrições morais. Mas em todas as religiões os quatro elementos estão presentes. Também a religio vera, depositada na Sagrada Escritura, tem a sua história e o seu dogma, a sua moral e o seu culto.

4. À religio objectiva corresponde no homem a religio subjectiva. Muito comum foi outrora a descrição da religião como recta verum Deum cognoscendi et colendi ratio, o modo correto de conhecer e cultuar o verdadeiro Deus. Já ocorre em Lactâncio e manteve-se até este século. Não está, porém, acima de crítica: nada diz da disposição subjetiva necessária ao serviço de Deus; não indica a conexão que existe entre o conhecer e o servir a Deus, mas simplesmente os põe lado a lado; e não faz menção dos demais elementos que na religião se encontram.

A escolástica penetrou mais fundo na matéria e investigou a disposição subjetiva de que a religião brota no homem. Tomás reduz tudo às virtudes, que divide em três espécies: as virtutes intellectuales (sabedoria, ciência, intelecto), as virtutes morales (as quatro cardeais: prudência, justiça, fortaleza, temperança) — ambos os grupos tomados de Aristóteles — e, como terceira classe, as três virtudes sobrenaturais ou teológicas: fé, esperança e amor. A religio é por Tomás posta não sob as virtutes theologicae, mas sob as virtutes morales. Pois as virtudes teológicas têm a peculiaridade de ter Deus por objeto direto: ordenam-nos a Deus imediata e diretamente como a um objeto. Na religião, porém, Deus não é objectum mas finis; o objeto próprio da religião é o culto que se presta a Deus. Não é, pois, virtude teológica, que tem Deus por objeto, mas virtude moral, que se ocupa daquilo que conduz ao fim: ordena o homem a Deus não como a objeto, mas como a fim. Entre as virtudes morais é contudo a principal, porque está na mais estreita relação com Aquele que é o alvo de todas as virtudes. Mais precisamente, Tomás inclui a religio naquela virtude moral que se chama justiça, entendendo por ela a virtude pela qual os homens prestam a Deus o culto e a reverência devidos. Ainda que Tiago também inclua na religião o visitar órfãos e viúvas, a religião no sentido próprio e mais estrito é apenas relação com Deus e nunca com os homens; e ainda que tudo deva ser feito para a honra de Deus, a honra que na religião se lhe presta é entendida em sentido especial e abrange, estritamente falando, apenas o que se refere à reverência de Deus. Coincide, pois, com a latreia.

Essa definição de Tomás, adotada por muitos, é porém, em primeiro lugar, estreita demais, porque descreve apenas o culto e assim coincide com a latreia: a religio subjectiva não é somente um serviço, uma veneração, mas antes de tudo uma disposição que nesse serviço se exprime. Além disso, a distinção entre virtutes morales e virtutes theologicae é sobrenaturalista e dualista demais. Nela há, decerto, alguma verdade: também no homem caído restam vestígios da imagem de Deus e virtudes morais, e nem mesmo a religião foi de todo extirpada. Mas as virtudes morais, e também a disposição religiosa, precisam ser renovadas e renascidas para serem verdadeiramente boas. O próprio Tomás reconhece que as virtudes teológicas — fé, esperança, amor — causam o ato da religião, e todavia elas ficam excluídas da religião; e enquanto as virtudes intelectuais e morais são segundo a natureza do homem, as teológicas estão acima dela.

A Reforma modificou essa concepção da religião sobretudo em duplo respeito. Em primeiro lugar, os teólogos da Reforma distinguem melhor e mais claramente entre a pietas como princípio e o cultus como ação da religião. Em segundo lugar, fé, esperança e amor não são postas como virtudes teológicas separadas ao lado da religião, mas precisamente, como atos principais do cultus internus, são incluídas na própria religião. A religião, diz Zwínglio, abrange toda a piedade dos cristãos — a fé, a vida, as leis, os ritos, os sacramentos; consiste naquela adesão pela qual o homem confia inabalavelmente em Deus como no sumo bem e dele se serve em lugar de pai; é o conúbio da alma com Deus. Em Calvino encontram-se três conceitos: primeiro, a notitia, o conhecimento de Deus, a consciência de suas virtudes; segundo, essa notitia é mestra idônea da pietas, que consiste na reverência unida ao amor de Deus, que o conhecimento de seus benefícios concilia; e terceiro, é dessa pietas que nasce a religio, no sentido de culto. Do mesmo modo distinguem os reformados posteriores entre o cultus, que indica a ação externa ou interna pela qual veneramos a Deus, e a religio ou pietas, que é a virtude de que o culto nasce: a religião difere do culto de Deus como a causa do efeito, e é a causa interna dele. O culto, fruto da piedade, é então, como já entre os escolásticos, distinguido em interno e externo. O interno tem por atos principais a fé, a confiança, a esperança, a adoração, o amor, a invocação, a ação de graças, o sacrifício e a obediência; o externo é ou moral (confissão, oração) ou cerimonial (sacramentos, sacrifícios, coisas sagradas).

5. A religio subjectiva é antes de tudo um habitus, certa disposição no homem, que pela operação da religio objectiva passa a atos, o culto interno e externo. Tal habitus existe em todo homem: a semente da religião foi posta em todos (Calvino). Mas no homem caído esse habitus está corrompido e, fecundado por uma religio objectiva falsa e impura, produz também um culto que é idolatria, culto arbitrário. Para uma religião pura é necessário, portanto, primeiro, que a religio objectiva, vinda a nós de fora, nos faça conhecer Deus de novo como Ele realmente é; e, segundo, que o habitus religionis corrompido no homem seja renascido e renovado. Nesse sentido a religio subjectiva é uma virtude infundida pelo Espírito Santo.

Com isso, porém, ainda não se disse o bastante. O homem tem muitas virtudes, tanto no seu entendimento como na sua vontade; é preciso, pois, indicar mais precisamente a peculiaridade daquela virtude que atua na religião. Outrora definia-se essa virtude como piedade, reverência, temor, fé; e hoje como reverência, temor reverente, sentimento de dependência. Todas essas determinações não são bastante determinadas: todos esses afetos temos, em maior ou menor grau, também em relação às criaturas. Tem de haver distinção essencial entre o cultus religiosus e o cultus civilis, entre latreia e dulia, entre os afetos de temor e reverência que nutrimos para com Deus e os que nutrimos para com as criaturas. Essa distinção só pode estar em que na religião entram em consideração a dignidade e o poder absolutos de Deus e a sujeição absoluta de nossa parte. Das criaturas dependemos apenas em parte; com elas estamos, como criaturas, na mesma linha. Mas Deus é um ser de quem dependemos absolutamente e que em todo respeito tem a decisão sobre o nosso bem e o nosso mal. Entre os pagãos essa absolutidade de Deus é como que repartida por muitos deuses, mas ainda assim cada deus, em seu domínio, é dotado de tal poder que o homem, para a sua felicidade ou infelicidade, dele depende absolutamente.

Foi sobretudo Schleiermacher quem definiu a religião como sentimento de dependência absoluta. Contra essa definição levantaram-se muitas objeções. De fato, ela tem em Schleiermacher um sentido que não se pode admitir: a dependência é por ele concebida tão panteisticamente que objetivamente se refere apenas ao todo do mundo e subjetivamente se limita ao sentimento. Há nela, contudo, um importante elemento de verdade. O que faz do homem um ser religioso e o impele à religião é a consciência de que está para com Deus numa relação que se distingue especificamente de todas as outras relações em que se acha posto. Essa relação é tão profunda e terna, tão rica e multiforme, que dificilmente se deixa exprimir por um só conceito. Mas certamente o de dependência é o que primeiro e mais entra aqui em consideração. Pois na religião o homem se sente em relação com um ser pessoal que tem em sua mão a sorte dele em todo domínio da vida, para o tempo e para a eternidade. Por isso Deus não é na religião concebido exclusivamente como poder; pois também como Gracioso, Misericordioso, Justo e Santo, Deus está sempre diante do homem como Soberano, como Absoluto, como Deus. E o homem está sempre diante dele como criatura; e isso ele não é diante de ninguém e de nada mais, senão diante de Deus. Essa dependência de criatura não é, portanto, a essência, mas é o fundamento da religião.

O homem, porém, não é apenas criatura, mas criatura racional e moral; sua relação com Deus é por isso inteiramente outra que a dos anjos e a dos animais. A dependência absoluta em que o homem está para com Deus não exclui, pois, a liberdade. Ele é dependente, mas de outro modo que as demais criaturas: é dependente de tal modo e em tal sentido que ao mesmo tempo permanece um ser racional e moral, aparentado com Deus, sua prole e sua imagem. Absolutamente dependente é ele, de sorte que a negação dessa dependência nunca o torna livre, e o reconhecimento dela nunca o degrada a escravo. Ao contrário: na aceitação consciente e voluntária dessa sua dependência o homem chega à mais alta liberdade. Torna-se homem na mesma medida em que é filho de Deus.

A Escritura não institui investigação alguma sobre a essência da religio subjectiva tal como ainda se encontra em todos os homens e sob todas as religiões. Seria também trabalho sem começo, pois a disposição religiosa é nas múltiplas religiões tão diversa que dela quando muito se pode indicar um conceito muito geral e vago. Mas a Escritura designa aquela disposição religiosa que o cristão sente para com Deus e sua revelação com o nome de fé: esse é o conceito central da religio subjectiva do cristão. Sobre a natureza dessa fé houve em todo tempo grande diferença na igreja cristã, porque a vida religiosa é tão rica e profunda que cada vez pode ser considerada de outro lado. Mas na fé estão sempre encerrados estes dois elementos: primeiro, que o homem, diante de Deus e de sua revelação, é inteiramente receptivo e absolutamente dependente de Deus; e segundo, que precisamente pelo reconhecimento dessa dependência ele se torna participante do perdão, da filiação, da salvação por graça. Analogia dessa religio subjectiva há certamente também em outras religiões, mas só na religião cristã a relação subjetiva do homem com Deus é completamente normal. Dependência e liberdade estão aqui reconciliadas uma com a outra; a soberania de Deus é aqui plenamente mantida, e o parentesco do homem com Deus é não obstante plenamente reconhecido. O homem é tanto mais religioso, e torna-se tanto mais conforme à imagem de Deus, quanto mais profundamente percebe e reconhece a sua dependência. Por isso todas as virtudes com respeito às criaturas podem ser exageradas; mas com respeito a Deus nenhum exagero é possível: nunca se pode crer nele, confiar nele, amá-lo demais; nunca pode a fé esperar demais.

6. A religio subjectiva passa, pela operação da objetiva, do seu estado habitual aos atos. Esses atos são internos ou externos, e fazem assim distinção entre o cultus internus e o externus. Religião e culto relacionam-se como causa e efeito. Não se quer dizer com isso, porém, que o culto seja livre invenção e expressão da religião subjetiva: todo culto arbitrário é proibido. Tanto o anabatismo antinomista como o romanismo nomista devem aqui ser evitados. Só Deus determina como quer ser servido. E a regeneração da religio subjectiva corrompida pelo pecado, do habitus religionis, consiste precisamente nisto: que os crentes recebem sincero desejo de viver, na perfeição, não segundo alguns, mas segundo todos os mandamentos de Deus. É o seu alimento fazer a vontade do Pai. Jesus nunca falou nem fez coisa alguma senão aquilo para que recebera mandamento do Pai. Por isso a Escritura põe tão forte ênfase em andar nos mandamentos de Deus e guardar os seus estatutos. E para esse fim Deus regenera o homem: para trazê-lo, a ele que é avesso ao seu serviço, de novo, no íntimo do seu ser, à concordância com a sua vontade e a sua lei, depositadas na religio objectiva.

O cultus internus compreende os atos de fé, confiança, temor, amor, oração e ação de graças; o cultus externus manifesta-se na confissão, na oração, no canto, no ministério da palavra e dos sacramentos, no voto, no jejum, na vigília. É, pois, em parte moral, em parte cerimonial; e pode ainda ser solitário ou comum, e neste caso privado ou público — o culto comum e público regula-se nas ordens eclesiásticas. Em todas essas ações religiosas a consciência da dependência absoluta é o pensamento religioso fundamental, o elemento que anima. Desligadas dela, tornam-se serviço de letra, obra de lábios, formalismo frio e morto; animadas por ela, todas adquirem seu caráter especificamente religioso. Também as criaturas são objeto da nossa fé, da nossa esperança, do nosso amor. O que marca todas essas ações como religiosas é que elas nos põem em relação com uma Pessoa de quem, com todas as coisas, dependemos em sentido absoluto e todavia de modo particular, isto é, como criaturas racionais. A essência da religião não pode afinal estar em outra coisa senão em que Deus, precisamente como Deus, seja glorificado e louvado. Toda religião que nisso falha detrai da honra de Deus e nessa mesma medida também deixa de ser genuinamente religiosa. A verdadeira religião consiste, ao contrário, naquela disposição do homem que de um lado se enraíza na consciência profunda de sua dependência absoluta de Deus como Criador, Redentor e Santificador, e de outro se estende a andar sinceramente segundo todos os estatutos de Deus.

B. A sede da religião

7. Investigada a essência da religião, é preciso determinar o lugar que ela ocupa no homem, no meio de suas faculdades e funções. Ao mesmo tempo torna-se clara a relação em que a religião está com a ciência, a arte e a moral. Já a escolástica pusera a questão de se a religio era virtude intelectual ou moral, e Tomás dizia que moral. Mas só na filosofia mais recente, sobretudo depois que as religiões dos povos se tornaram mais amplamente conhecidas, a essência da religião foi feita objeto de investigação psicológica e histórica; desde Lessing e Herder a história e a filosofia das religiões tornaram-se estudo predileto.

Para a determinação da essência da religião, a pesquisa atual parte quase sempre da religio subjectiva, e o direito, o poder, o valor da religio objectiva são quase geralmente negados. Isso é resultado de uma premissa filosófica: a de que todas as religiões são iguais em essência e diferem apenas na forma. Mas esse indiferentismo religioso é insustentável, porque toda religião inclui necessariamente um conhecer e põe a realidade do seu objeto; e desde que assim é, uma religião cai sob a categoria de verdadeiro e falso. Se a religião não fosse senão sentimento e fantasia, atribuiria também às suas criações apenas valor estético. Mas toda religião está convencida da realidade e da verdade dos seus objetos — deuses, profetas, lugares santos — e sem essa fé é incapaz de existir. De fato, todos aplicam também às religiões a categoria de verdadeiro e falso: o próprio filósofo da religião não crê na verdade dos deuses dos povos, ainda que valorize a disposição religiosa que na veneração deles muitas vezes se exprime. Além disso, as diversas religiões não são de modo algum indiferentes umas para com as outras: consideram-se a si mesmas e umas às outras não como estando numa relação de inferior e superior, mas de verdadeiro e falso. O filósofo está com o seu indiferentismo praticamente sozinho. Frederico, o Grande, podia dizer que em seu reino cada um se salvasse a seu modo; as religiões pensam bem de outra maneira. E não podem pensar de outra maneira: o que uma põe, a outra nega; excluem-se mutuamente e não podem ser ambas verdadeiras. Se Cristo é o Enviado do Pai, então Maomé não o é. E, finalmente, o indiferentismo religioso repousa ainda sobre o pensamento pecaminoso de que é indiferente a Deus como Ele é servido. Priva-o do direito de determinar o modo do seu serviço; parte, de todo modo, do pensamento de que Deus não prescreveu o seu serviço, isto é, da negação a priori da revelação. A proposição de que as religiões concordam em essência e diferem em forma é, invertida, muito mais correta: diferem em essência e concordam em forma.

Cabe ainda observar que o indiferentismo em matéria de religião pode estender-se mais ou menos longe: o sincretismo tem por indiferente o eclesiástico, o deísmo o cristão, o modernismo a religio objectiva, a moral independente tudo o que é religioso. De fato e objetivamente, porém, nada é indiferente, nem na natureza, nem no Estado, nem na ciência ou na arte. Tudo, até o mínimo, tem o seu lugar e o seu significado determinados no todo. O homem é indiferente apenas àquilo que não conhece; o que conhece, também por si mesmo julga e avalia. Deus a nada é indiferente, porque tudo conhece.

8. A crença geral de que as religiões são formas diversas de uma só essência procede do pensamento de que a essência da religião não está na religio objectiva, mas na religio subjectiva. Aquela é indiferente; o que importa é a disposição ou o estado de ânimo religioso. É segundo essa disposição, portanto, que se deve fazer a investigação. Mas onde e como deve ela dar-se? Apresentam-se dois métodos, o histórico e o psicológico. O histórico quer determinar a essência da religião a partir da pesquisa histórica e da observação comparativa dos fenômenos religiosos. Mas esse método é de fato impossível: toda investigação das religiões já pressupõe uma noção de religião; uma investigação comparativa de todas as religiões é trabalho impraticável; e nas religiões justamente a disposição religiosa é o que está mais profundamente escondido e quase escapa a toda observação — que sabemos ainda do ânimo e da disposição que, nas diversas direções e igrejas dentro do cristianismo, subjazem aos fenômenos religiosos?

O método psicológico quer explicar psicologicamente a essência da religião e exige por isso que o cultor da ciência da religião seja pessoa religiosa e como tal observe e julgue os fenômenos religiosos. Contra isso, em si, nada há a dizer: deixar de lado, no estudo das religiões, a própria consciência religiosa seria, na boa observação de Hugenholtz, o mesmo que furar os próprios olhos por medo de engano da vista. Mas então pode contudo exigir-se que tal investigador das religiões traga consigo não uma concepção falsa, mas verdadeira e pura, da religião; do contrário testa todas as religiões apenas pela sua representação, talvez muito errônea, e pela dos seus afins, por exemplo pela concepção moderna de religião. Se a questão está assim, então entre ortodoxos e modernos não há mais questão de método, mas apenas da verdade ou falsidade da representação religiosa de que ambos partem. E a garantia da verdade da representação religiosa que o ortodoxo traz é ao menos tão grande quanto a da concepção moderna: aquele deriva-a da Sagrada Escritura e está de acordo com a igreja de todos os séculos; esta é de curta duração e vale apenas num pequeno círculo de afins.

9. A filosofia da religião adiantou sobretudo três concepções da essência da religio subjectiva. A primeira é a intelectualista, que põe a essência da religião no conhecimento e sua sede no entendimento. Já o gnosticismo dizia que a gnose fazia bem-aventurado, que o conhecimento era a redenção do homem interior. Esse gnosticismo encontrou em todo tempo defensores na igreja cristã, mas ressurgiu sobretudo na filosofia mais recente. Espinosa tem entendimento e vontade por uma e a mesma coisa, faz nascer o amor de Deus do conhecimento claro e distinto que o homem tem de si mesmo e de seus afetos, e chama-o amor intelectual; a virtude suprema da mente é conhecer a Deus, e esse conhecimento das coisas sob a espécie da eternidade é o supremo repouso da mente. Segundo Schelling em seu primeiro período, do Absoluto, como identidade do finito e do infinito, só é possível um saber absoluto; a religião perde aqui inteiramente a sua independência, e a fé é uma apreensão incorreta e impura da ideia.

Foi porém Hegel quem elaborou essa determinação intelectualista da essência da religião. Nele o Absoluto é o próprio pensar, que entra nas oposições e delas retorna à identidade consigo mesmo. O mundo inteiro é assim um desenvolvimento do espírito, um desdobramento lógico do conteúdo da razão, um processo em que a ideia primeiro se objetiva na natureza e depois, a partir dela, retorna a si mesma no espírito. Um dos momentos que esse processo percorre é a religião. O espírito humano é aquele em quem o Absoluto vem a si e se torna consciente de si mesmo; e essa consciência de si do espírito absoluto no espírito finito é a religião. A religião é, pois, essencialmente saber: não sentimento e não agir, mas saber, e a saber, saber de Deus pelo espírito finito, ou, objetivamente, o saber que Deus tem de si mesmo por meio do e no espírito finito. "O homem só sabe de Deus na medida em que Deus, no homem, sabe de si mesmo; esse saber é autoconsciência de Deus, mas igualmente um saber que Deus tem do homem, e esse saber que Deus tem do homem é o saber que o homem tem de Deus." A religião, porém, não é o saber mais alto; é apenas um saber do absoluto na forma de representações sensíveis e históricas. O saber mais alto e verdadeiro só se alcança na filosofia. A religião é, portanto, temporária, uma forma inferior, apropriada aos não desenvolvidos; a filosofia desprende a ideia das representações sensíveis da religião e chega assim a um saber absoluto, adequado e conceitual de Deus. Feuerbach e Strauss tiraram a consequência e consumaram a ruptura com a religião cristã. O idealismo converteu-se em materialismo: a fé em Deus foi de novo tida por muitos como o maior e mais nocivo dos erros, alguns pregaram o mais nu egoísmo, e o materialismo que surgiu na Alemanha por volta de 1850 não julgou de outro modo.

10. Ora, Hegel viu muito bem que a religião também contém conhecimento e que religião e metafísica estão estreitissimamente aparentadas. A natureza da coisa também o torna claro. A religião é sempre uma relação do homem com um Poder divino que está acima dele; não é nem pode ser, portanto, sem uma concepção determinada de Deus, e esta por sua vez inclui outras concepções a respeito do mundo e do homem, da origem e do fim último das coisas. Essas concepções religiosas têm para o crente significado transcendental: ele está profundissimamente convencido de sua realidade e verdade objetivas. Tão logo comece a considerá-las produtos da sua imaginação, ideais sem realidade, ou também desespere da cognoscibilidade do metafísico, a sua religião está acabada. O ceticismo destrói o objeto da religião e com isso a própria religião. Deus deve ser servido também com o entendimento; mas quando o entendimento vê que as concepções religiosas não correspondem a uma realidade, ele deixa de ser religioso. Cosmovisão religiosa e cosmovisão teórica, teologia e ciência, não são a mesma coisa, mas tampouco podem lutar uma com a outra: tal dualismo está em conflito irreconciliável com a unidade do espírito humano.

Mas Hegel errou nisto: pôs religião e filosofia em relação de inferior e superior, de representação e conceito, e concebeu-as assim como momentos sucessivos de um só processo. Os próprios hegelianos viram o que nisso era incorreto. Conteúdo e forma nunca estão tão mecânica e externamente ligados que uma mudança completa desta deixe aquele inalterado: a conversão das representações religiosas em conceitos filosóficos afeta também o próprio conteúdo religioso. A história da filosofia hegeliana logo o trouxe à luz. Com ela dos dogmas cristãos não restou praticamente nada; trindade, encarnação, satisfação conservaram os nomes ortodoxos, mas foram interpretados de modo inteiramente diverso. Os fatos do cristianismo foram contados como pertencentes à forma e tidos por sem valor, e em lugar deles obtiveram-se conceitos que já não tinham conteúdo algum.

Um segundo erro de Hegel consistiu em dar a religião e filosofia igual conteúdo e todavia ter aquela por forma inferior desta. Com isso a religião foi rebaixada a um bem relativo, que só ainda tinha valor para os simples e os não desenvolvidos, enquanto os filósofos ficavam muito acima dela e tinham bastante na filosofia. Isso repousa num total desconhecimento da essência da religião. Pois religião e ciência são de fato aparentadas, mas também tão diferentes como o céu e a terra. Ainda que muitas vezes tenham o mesmo conteúdo e o mesmo objeto, estes aparecem em ambas sob ponto de vista inteiramente diverso. Na ciência trata-se de conhecimento; na religião, de consolo, paz, bem-aventurança. Religião e filosofia tampouco são, como os estados teológico, metafísico e positivo de Comte, estados historicamente sucessivos do espírito humano, mas pontos de vista diferentes sob os quais muitas vezes a mesma coisa pode ser considerada. Nem o mais profundo filósofo ultrapassa, portanto, com todo o seu saber, a religião; pela ciência nunca pode satisfazer a sua necessidade religiosa. A ciência pode dizer-lhe que Deus é e o que Deus é; só pela religião sabe ele que esse Deus é também o seu Deus e o seu Pai. A ciência pode ensinar-lhe que há pecado e graça; só pela religião se torna ele participante da bem-aventurança do perdão e da filiação. Ainda que a ciência pudesse saber tudo e resolver todos os problemas metafísicos, daria apenas conhecimento teórico e nenhuma participação pessoal nos bens da salvação. Não ao saber, mas só ao crer está ligada a bem-aventurança. E está longe de poder a ciência chegar sequer até ali: justamente nas questões mais importantes ela fica sem resposta. A expectativa que Renan podia nutrir da ciência em 1848 revelou-se a ele mesmo, em 1890, nada mais que uma ilusão. A ciência não nos diz nem o que é Deus nem o que é o homem; deixa-nos ignorar a origem e o destino das coisas. Os fenômenos ela observa, mas o númeno lhe permanece oculto. Nunca pode substituir a religião nem compensar a sua perda.

11. Outros, por isso, definiram a religião pela ação moral e buscaram a sua sede na vontade. O pelagianismo, em suas várias formas, preparou essa concepção, na medida em que nessa direção a fé é suplementada por uma nova obediência, ou até só nela consiste: a doutrina é então apenas meio e coisa subordinada; o principal é o amor; o que importa é uma vida virtuosa e moral. Também Espinosa tem, ao lado da intelectualista, esta visão moralista: a Escritura é palavra de Deus porque contém a verdadeira religião, a lei divina; nada pretende senão obediência, e essa obediência para com Deus consiste unicamente no amor ao próximo; filosofia e fé distinguem-se em que aquela tem por fim a verdade, esta a obediência e a piedade; o conhecimento exato de Deus não é dom concedido a todos os crentes, mas a obediência é exigida de todos.

Mas foi sobretudo Kant quem deu curso a esse moralismo. A razão teórica não pode alcançar o supra-sensível: Deus, liberdade e imortalidade não se deixam provar cientificamente; são apenas postulados da razão prática, para o cumprimento da lei moral e para a obtenção do bem supremo, isto é, da bem-aventurança ligada à virtude. Crer é assim ter por verdadeiro não por fundamentos teóricos, mas práticos. A moralidade torna-se o fundamento da religião. E a religião, subjetivamente considerada, é o conhecimento de todos os nossos deveres como mandamentos divinos. A religião não está aqui direta e imediatamente fundada na natureza humana, mas apenas por meio do moral; tampouco tem conteúdo e matéria próprios, e não é senão uma determinação ulterior do moral: a diferença entre ambos não está no objeto, mas somente na forma. Kant teve por isso de reconhecer que nenhuma religião se contentou com a sua religião. Todas contêm, além da pura fé racional, muitos outros dogmas, uma fé histórica e doutrinária. Mas ele explica isso pela fraqueza da natureza humana, que não se convence facilmente de que um andar moral é tudo o que Deus exige de nós; a vocação é purificar cada vez mais a fé eclesiástica e fazê-la passar para a pura fé da razão. A religião de Kant consistiu, de fato, em nada mais que na trilogia racionalista: Deus, virtude, imortalidade. Mas Fichte foi mais longe e não derivou da consciência moral outro postulado senão que o eu considere todo o não-eu, o mundo, como o "material sensibilizado" do seu dever, e o reconheça como de tal modo ordenado que o seu querer e o seu agir morais estejam na linha do fim moral do todo — em outras palavras, que haja uma ordem moral do mundo. Aqui a religião foi inteiramente absorvida no moral.

Esse moralismo foi aprofundado em eticismo, ao conceber-se o moral não só psicológica, mas também metafisicamente. A vontade, o bem, o amor é então o ser próprio, o ser primordial, o Absoluto; dele tudo se há de explicar — a Trindade, o mundo, a redenção —, e esse poder do bem realiza-se no mundo humano por meio do moral. É esse o pensamento fundamental de que partiu Schelling em seu segundo período: em última e suprema instância não há outro ser senão o querer; querer é ser primordial. Foi sobretudo Rothe quem transportou esse eticismo para a teologia: a piedade não tem conteúdo próprio, mas coincide in concreto com a verdadeira moralidade, e por isso também a igreja passa para o Estado. Desde então essa direção ética ganhou grande influência. O ético é tido alternadamente como fundamento (os neokantianos), como conteúdo (os éticos entre os teólogos da mediação e entre os modernos) ou até como compensação completa da religião (a moral independente, o movimento ético na religião). Os modernos éticos definem a religião como devoção ao ideal moral, como pura moralidade; Rauwenhoff põe a essência da religião na fé numa ordem moral do mundo; e aparentado a isso é o movimento ético que da América penetrou na Inglaterra e na Alemanha e que, indiferente a toda religião, não reconhece dogma algum senão o amor ao bem. No mesmo sentido se empenham por um cristianismo indogmático, prático e moral, um cristianismo do Sermão da Montanha.

12. Ora, não sofre dúvida que religião e moral estão na mais estreita conexão uma com a outra. Essa afinidade aparece, em primeiro lugar, em que a própria religião é uma relação moral. A religião repousa de fato sobre uma união mística de Deus e do homem, mas não é ela mesma comunhão substancial de ambos, e sim relação ética do homem com Deus. Deus não tem religião; mas a habitação de Deus no homem cultiva, do lado deste, aquela relação com Deus a que chamamos religião. Essa relação é, pois, de natureza ética; é regulada naquela mesma lei moral que determina também as demais relações do homem com as suas criaturas semelhantes; todas as ações religiosas do homem são deveres morais, e a religião inteira é um mandamento moral. Inversamente, a vida moral é por sua vez um serviço de Deus. Visitar viúvas e órfãos não é, no sentido próprio, ato religioso, mas pode contudo chamar-se religião, porque a religião nisso deve manifestar-se e confirmar-se; a escolástica distinguia por isso entre atos elícitos e atos imperados da religião. A fé sem obras, sem amor, é fé morta; o amor a Deus prova-se para nós no amor ao próximo. Toda a nossa vida deve ser um serviço de Deus. A inscrição "eu sou o Senhor teu Deus" está também acima dos mandamentos da segunda tábua. O amor é o único grande princípio que cumpre toda a lei. A lei moral é um todo orgânico, de sorte que quem transgride um mandamento viola a lei inteira. O próximo deve ser amado por amor de Deus, e o pecado contra o próximo é também pecado contra Deus.

Essa relação entre religião e moral já torna claro que a moral nunca pode constituir nem o conteúdo nem tampouco o fundamento da religião. Apesar da íntima afinidade, ambas são essencialmente distintas. A religião é sempre relação com Deus, a moral com os homens; a religião tem por princípio a fé, a moral o amor; a religião revela-se naquelas ações religiosas que juntas formam o culto interno e externo, a moral manifesta-se nos atos de justiça, misericórdia e honestidade para com o próximo; a religião é regulada na primeira, a moral na segunda tábua da lei. Essa distinção não pode ser mantida pelo panteísmo, porque aí Deus não tem existência própria independente do mundo, uma relação pessoal entre Deus e o homem não é aí possível, e o amor a Deus não pode então exprimir-se senão no amor ao próximo. Também o deísmo, por negar a comunhão de Deus e do homem, não pode cultivar religião própria: há aí ainda fé em Deus, mas nenhum serviço de Deus senão no cumprimento dos mandamentos morais. No ponto de vista teísta, porém, o homem está em relação com o mundo, mas também numa relação própria e distinta com Deus como ser pessoal. A religião é, portanto, algo essencialmente diverso da moral e revela-se numa série própria de atos.

Se assim é, então também a moral não pode ser o fundamento da religião, mas, inversamente, esta é que deve formar a base daquela. A relação com Deus é então a primária e a central, que determina todas as demais relações do homem. Histórica e logicamente a moral está sempre fundada na religião. A religião urge os deveres morais, e a moral busca a sanção da religião. Uma moral autônoma não ocorre na realidade em parte alguma; em toda parte e entre todos os povos a moral encontra o seu último fundamento e o seu último fim na religião. A moral perde o chão sob os pés se lhe é retirada a autoridade divina na consciência. Toda moral se desenvolveu historicamente da religião, e ainda que as disposições espirituais assim desenvolvidas possam, graças à sua procedência, subsistir por algum tempo separadas do seu solo materno, essa capacidade de existência independente é temporalmente muito limitada, e já na segunda geração se fazem notar claramente os sintomas da decadência dos costumes. Materialmente, é claro, nem de longe todas as obrigações e ações que os homens têm por morais concordam com a vontade de Deus; mas o formal, aquilo que faz de todo dever um dever incondicional, que liga o homem na consciência, esse é de Deus. Não há moral sem metafísica. Homens, costumes e usos não podem obrigar absolutamente na consciência; só Deus o pode. Por isso a consciência é sacrossanta, e a liberdade de consciência, exigência inexorável e direito inalienável. Os mandamentos e proibições que não estão fixados na consciência não são sentidos como morais, e uma lei que não tem fundamento na consciência do povo é impotente.

Em virtude dessa ligação há também influência recíproca da religião e da moral uma sobre a outra. Temporariamente podem, tanto num indivíduo como num povo, apartar-se e até lutar entre si. Mas não podem repousar antes de estarem em harmonia e equilíbrio. O que na religião é aprovado não pode na moral ser condenado, e inversamente. A relação com Deus e a relação com os homens devem ambas trazer um só e mesmo caráter moral, ser reguladas numa só e mesma lei moral. Religião e moral, culto e cultura, devem estar enraizados num só e mesmo princípio. É esse o caso no cristianismo: o amor é o cumprimento da lei e o vínculo da perfeição.

13. Finalmente, há também os que atribuem à religião um lugar no sentimento e para isso admitem por vezes até uma faculdade separada no homem. O misticismo e o pietismo já haviam preparado o caminho em tempos anteriores. Mas só pelo romantismo do século passado essa concepção se tornou por algum tempo dominante. O romantismo foi, em geral, uma reação da vida livre e desatada do sentimento contra o classicismo objetivo, que tudo ligava e regulava. O sujeito ergueu-se acima das leis que, em todo domínio da vida, haviam sido postas à sua expressão espontânea; a imaginação retomou os seus direitos diante do entendimento; a visão orgânica tomou o lugar da mecânica; a ideia do devir deslocou a do fazer. Em todo campo o olho se abriu para o livre, o natural, o genial: vir-a-ser, crescer, desenvolver-se era o modo como as coisas surgiam; não o útil, mas o belo; não a prosa, mas a poesia; não o trabalho, mas o jogo; não a manufatura, mas a arte tinha o valor mais alto. O maneirismo de outrora converteu-se numa sentimentalidade superficial. Na França o movimento foi introduzido por Rousseau, que na profissão de fé do vigário saboiano constrói toda a sua dogmática e a sua moral deístas a partir do sentimento: o sentimento é mais que a razão, a nossa sensibilidade é anterior à nossa inteligência. Na Alemanha, Herder apontava na história a revelação e a operação da eterna natureza divina, e Hamann, Lavater e outros partiam de uma subjetividade rica e a opunham à concepção rasa e mecânica do Iluminismo. Em toda parte houve ruptura com a objetividade; o sujeito tornou-se princípio absoluto.

Sob essa influência Jacobi apelou para o sentimento como a percepção imediata do divino. A religião é sentimento do verdadeiro, do belo e do bom; admiração, amor, estima pelo divino; e tal sentimento nos é inato, como impulso fundamental da natureza humana. O racionalismo estético de Jacobi foi elaborado por Fries e de Wette até uma separação estrita entre a cosmovisão empírico-matemática do entendimento e a cosmovisão ideal, estético-religiosa, do sentimento.

Dessa mesma direção romântica se explica a concepção de religião de Schleiermacher. No segundo dos seus Discursos sobre a religião ele a define como a consciência imediata do ser de todo o finito no e pelo infinito. Não é saber nem agir, não é metafísica nem moral, mas sentimento do infinito. O objeto desse sentimento não é um Deus pessoal com quem o homem viva em comunhão, mas o universo, o mundo como um todo, concebido como unidade. E o órgão para a percepção desse infinito não é o entendimento, a razão ou a vontade, mas o sentimento, a direção do ânimo para o infinito e o sentido para ele. Mais precisamente esse sentimento não é definido. E ainda mais vaga é a resposta à questão de quando esse sentimento se torna especificamente sentimento religioso: Schleiermacher só responde em linguagem figurada, dizendo que é preciso abrir o sentimento tão amplamente quanto possível ao mundo como um todo, contemplar tudo no uno e o uno em tudo, conceber todo o particular como revelação do infinito. Tudo isso não diz muito; parece que ao fim todo sentimento é religioso, desde que despertado pelo todo do mundo e nos revele a unidade suprema. Em todo caso, o sentimento religioso não fica claramente delimitado diante do estético. Na doutrina da fé encontramos em substância a mesma concepção: também aí a piedade é sentimento, a saber, sentimento de dependência absoluta. Há contudo uma dupla diferença: nos Discursos Deus era o todo, na doutrina da fé é a causalidade absoluta do mundo; e correspondentemente o sentimento era ali sentido para o infinito, e aqui autoconsciência imediata e dependência absoluta. Deus adquire aqui mais uma existência própria, distinta do mundo, e a religião também um conteúdo próprio, distinto do sentimento pelo mundo; percebe-se assim alguma aproximação do teísmo. Mas o pensamento fundamental permanece o mesmo, na medida em que Deus não é concebido como transcendente acima do mundo, mas apenas como imanente nele, e o órgão para o divino não é a razão ou a consciência moral, mas o sentimento.

Essa concepção da religião não foi adotada apenas por alguns teólogos da mediação, ainda que com modificação, mas encontra-se em princípio em todos os que, ao lado da cosmovisão mecânica, tentam ainda construir uma cosmovisão estética e nela incluir a religião, ou até deixá-la nela ser inteiramente absorvida. Lange diz que o núcleo da religião consiste não numa doutrina a respeito de Deus, mas na elevação do ânimo acima da realidade e na criação de uma pátria dos espíritos: acima do mundo dos fatos, do mundo do que é, o homem constrói pela sua imaginação um mundo de valores, um mundo de poesia. Assim também Pierson defende essa formação de ideais: o sentimento do homem, despertado de fora, cria, a partir das representações que o entendimento obtém do mundo sensivelmente perceptível, ideais religiosos, éticos e estéticos, que não são realidades existentes independentemente de nós, mas têm não obstante grande valor para a nossa vida. Opzoomer chegou mesmo a admitir um sentimento religioso separado e nele viu a fonte das representações religiosas.

14. Também nessa visão é sem contradição que o sentimento ocupa um lugar importante na religião. Representações religiosas em si mesmas e sem mais ainda não são religião; esta só surge quando o homem entra numa relação real e pessoal com o objeto dessas representações. E tal relação pessoal com Deus não pode senão agir sobre o sentimento: não deixa o homem frio e indiferente, mas o comove até o mais profundo da alma; desperta nele um forte sentimento de prazer e de desprazer e cultiva toda uma série de afetos — consciência de culpa, dor, arrependimento, pesar, tristeza, alegria, júbilo, confiança, paz, repouso. A religião desperta os afetos mais profundos e mais ternos do coração humano. Não há poder que mais profunda, mais geral e mais fortemente arrebate e comova. Todos esses afetos despertados pelas representações religiosas dão à religião calor, intimidade, vida e força, em contraste com a morteza do intelectualismo e a frieza do moralismo. O coração é o centro da religião.

Mas nem por isso o sentimento é já a única função religiosa, a única sede e fonte da religião. O sentimento, tomado aqui não como uma faculdade separada, que não é, mas como o conjunto das paixões e dos afetos, é naturalmente passivo: reage apenas àquilo que pela consciência lhe é posto em contato, e converte-o então em sentimento de prazer ou de desprazer. Nada tem em si mesmo e nada produz de si mesmo, mas julga as coisas, as representações que vêm de fora, apenas segundo sejam agradáveis ou desagradáveis. Em si o sentimento, todo afeto, não é nem bom nem mau, nem verdadeiro nem falso. Essas categorias não pertencem propriamente aos afetos, mas às representações, e dos afetos só podem usar-se na medida em que estes sejam despertados por representações verdadeiras ou falsas e acompanhados de boas ou más direções da vontade. Na religião, portanto, não é o sentimento, mas a fé, a representação religiosa, que é o primeiro; mas essa fé age então sobre o sentimento. Quando, porém, como em Schleiermacher, o sentimento é desprendido da fé, da representação religiosa, e feito fonte e sede própria e única da religião, então o sentimento perde a sua qualidade, torna-se inteiramente independente da categoria de verdadeiro e falso, de bom e mau, e de fato todo sentimento como tal já é religioso, verdadeiro, bom e belo. E foi esse o erro terrível de todo o romantismo.

Naturalmente se insinua daí o erro de confundir e identificar o sentimento religioso com o sensual e com o estético. Da história é conhecida de todos a afinidade e a transição entre o amor religioso e o sensual. Mas igualmente perigosa é a mistura do sentimento religioso com o estético, da religião com a arte. Ambos são essencialmente distintos. A religião é vida, realidade; a arte é ideal, aparência. A arte não pode encher o abismo entre o ideal e a realidade. Ela nos eleva de fato por um momento acima da realidade e nos faz viver no reino dos ideais; mas isso só acontece na imaginação. A realidade permanece, apesar de tudo, a mesma. A arte mostra-nos, sim, ao longe o reino da glória, mas não nos introduz nele e não nos faz seus cidadãos. Não reconcilia a nossa culpa, não enxuga as nossas lágrimas, não nos consola na vida e na morte. Ela faz do "Lá" um "nunca Aqui". Só a religião o faz: ela é e dá realidade; concede vida e paz; põe o ideal como verdadeira realidade e nos faz participantes dele. Por isso o sentimento estético nunca pode substituir o religioso, nem a arte a religião. E contudo ambas estão ligadas: religião e arte estiveram desde o começo estreitamente ligadas, o declínio de uma trouxe consigo o da outra, e a última força motriz da arte esteve na religião. Na religião, e especialmente no culto, a imaginação tem o seu direito e o seu valor: no processo religioso também a fantasia toma parte, mas não como princípio gerador, e sim apenas como princípio vivificador; a imaginação só pode configurar matérias e impulsos já dados, nunca pode ela mesma criar a religião. Mas o palco é o que menos serve como instituição moral: o teatro não pode substituir a igreja, nem o Natã de Lessing a Bíblia. Ideais e criações da imaginação não compensam a realidade que a religião oferece. O sentimento religioso, por mais íntimo e profundo que aliás seja, só é puro quando despertado por representações verdadeiras.

15. O resultado é, portanto, que a religião não se limita a uma das faculdades do homem, mas abrange o homem inteiro. A relação com Deus é total e central. Devemos amar a Deus com todo o nosso entendimento, com toda a nossa alma e com todas as nossas forças. Precisamente porque Deus é Deus, ele nos reclama inteiros, em alma e corpo, com todas as faculdades e em todas as nossas relações. Há contudo ordem também nessa relação do homem com Deus. Também aqui cada faculdade no homem existe e opera segundo a sua própria natureza. O conhecimento é o primeiro: não há reto serviço de Deus sem reto conhecimento. Do desconhecido não há desejo; o desconhecido não é amado. Quem se aproxima de Deus deve crer que ele existe e é galardoador dos que o buscam (Hb 11); a fé vem pelo ouvir (Rm 10). Os pagãos chegaram à idolatria e à injustiça porque não tiveram a Deus em reconhecimento (Rm 1). Mas esse conhecimento de Deus penetra no coração e ali desperta toda sorte de afetos — temor e esperança, tristeza e alegria, sentimento de culpa e de perdão, miséria e livramento —, tais como nos são pintados por toda a Escritura e sobretudo nos salmos. E pelo coração ele age por sua vez sobre a vontade: a fé revela-se no amor, nas obras. Cabeça, coração e mão são igualmente tomados pela religião, ainda que cada um a seu modo; ela toma a seu serviço o homem inteiro, alma e corpo.

Por isso a religião entra também em contato com todas as demais potências da cultura, especialmente com a ciência, a moral e a arte. Proudhon disse certa vez ser espantoso que no fundo de todas as coisas se reencontre a teologia; ao que Donoso Cortés respondeu com razão que nesse fato nada há de espantoso senão o espanto do sr. Proudhon. A religião, como relação com Deus, indica o lugar em que o homem está diante de todas as demais criaturas. Contém dogma, lei e culto, e está por isso em estreita ligação com a ciência, a moral e a arte. Abrange o homem inteiro, no seu pensar, sentir e agir, em toda a sua vida, em toda parte e em todo tempo. Nada cai fora da religião. Ela estende o seu poder sobre o homem inteiro e sobre a humanidade, sobre a família, a sociedade e o Estado. É o fundamento do verdadeiro, do bom e do belo. Traz unidade, coerência e vida ao mundo e à história. Dela a ciência, a moral e a arte tomaram a sua origem; a ela retornam e nela encontram repouso. É o princípio e o fim, a alma de tudo, o mais alto e o mais profundo. O que Deus é para o mundo, isso é a religião para o homem.

E contudo ela se distingue de todas as potências da cultura e conserva, diante de todas elas, a sua independência. A religião é central; a ciência, a moral e a arte são parciais. A religião abrange o ser humano inteiro; a ciência, a moral e a arte estão enraizadas nas diferentes faculdades do intelecto, da vontade e do sentimento. A religião não visa a menos que a bem-aventurança eterna em comunhão com Deus; a ciência, a moral e a arte limitam-se às criaturas e querem enriquecer esta vida com o verdadeiro, o bom e o belo. Assim, a religião não se compara com nada: ocupa na vida e na história da humanidade um lugar próprio e independente, único e que a tudo governa. Sua indispensabilidade pode até provar-se pelo fato de que o homem, no próprio momento em que rejeita a religião como ilusão, faz de novo de alguma criatura o seu Deus e busca por outros caminhos compensação para a sua necessidade religiosa — no serviço da humanidade, no idealismo moral, na formação de ideais, no espiritismo e na teosofia, ou em outras religiões, como o budismo e o maometismo.

C. A origem da religião

16. Da origem da religião não há, tampouco como da origem da linguagem, explicação satisfatória. A derivação da religião do medo, da fraude sacerdotal, da ignorância ainda corre, é verdade, em alguns círculos ateus, mas não encontra defesa científica. Darwin busca a religião em germe, embrionariamente, já nos animais — no amor, por exemplo, que um cão sente pelo seu dono, acompanhado de um sentimento de subordinação e de temor. Mas essa analogia não se sustenta, por várias razões. Em primeiro lugar, pouco sabemos da vida psíquica interior dos animais; além disso, a religião está sempre ligada a veneração, a culto, e um ato religioso como a oração ou o sacrifício não ocorre entre os animais; e há neles, sem dúvida, certas qualidades de fidelidade e apego, mas essas tampouco constituem religião do que as mesmas qualidades entre os homens uns para com os outros já são religião — o objeto próprio da religião, um poder supra-sensível, é inteiramente desconhecido dos animais. Fica, pois, por ora com a palavra de Lactâncio: a religião é quase a única coisa que distingue o homem dos brutos.

A explicação da religião pelo animismo, pelo fetichismo e pela veneração dos antepassados parte do pressuposto inteiramente arbitrário de que as formas mais baixas de religião são as primitivas, e toma fenômenos acompanhantes da religião por sua essência. Também a tentativa de Max Müller de derivar a religião do sentimento do infinito encontrou, com boa razão, pouca aceitação: a observação do sem-fim na natureza não conduz, em si mesma e sem mais, ao conceito do infinito, e muito menos ainda à veneração do Infinito, de Deus. Igualmente inaceitável é a hipótese que busca a origem da religião no impulso de causalidade, na necessidade que o homem tem de uma explicação do mundo e da vida; pois a religião, apesar de toda a afinidade, é essencialmente distinta da metafísica e da filosofia e responde a necessidades inteiramente outras do homem. E poucos são já os que, com Cícero e os racionalistas otimistas do século passado, fazem a religião nascer da poesia infantil, do sentimento de gratidão, da alegria ingênua que no homem inocente da natureza eram despertados pela natureza gloriosa e benfazeja, e que o levavam ao reconhecimento e à veneração de um ser sobrenatural que tudo isso concedia: a erudição de hoje vê nessa pintura da inocência dos homens da natureza e da beleza e beneficência da natureza nada mais que um idílio poético. A realidade mostra-nos em toda parte uma dura luta pela vida.

Prevalece por isso hoje uma concepção inteiramente diversa a respeito da origem da religião. A natureza põe-se muitas vezes hostil diante do homem. Com as suas tempestades e trovoadas, com o seu calor abrasador e o seu frio penetrante, com as suas forças desenfreadas e os seus elementos sem freio, ela atenta contra a existência e a vida do homem, que se vê continuamente compelido a proteger a sua vida e a manter diante dela a sua existência. Mas ele é fraco e impotente. E assim, no conflito angustiado entre si mesmo e a natureza, entre o sentimento de si e o da necessidade, chama em seu auxílio um poder invisível, que está acima da natureza e pode ajudá-lo na luta. O homem quer ser feliz, mas não o é, e por sua própria força tampouco pode vir a sê-lo; por isso, na religião, procura tornar favoráveis a si todos aqueles poderes pessoais que, segundo a sua concepção, estão presentes nos fenômenos da natureza. Essa explicação da religião tem a peculiaridade de fazê-la nascer não de motivos teóricos, mas decididamente práticos; não de representações, mas de emoções de medo, angústia, sentimento de necessidade. Nessa medida é um retorno ao primus in orbe deos fecit timor de Petrônio — foi o medo que primeiro fez os deuses no mundo —, e já se encontra em Hume; mas foi sobretudo nos tempos mais recentes que foi aceita em círculo muito amplo como a melhor solução da questão.

Não ocorre, porém, em todos na mesma forma. Uns dizem que a religião surgiu do impulso de autoconservação em geral: na religião o homem quer tornar-se participante de algum bem, seja ele qual for — sensível, físico e egoísta, ou também moral e espiritual; numa palavra, quer uma vida feliz, o livramento do mal físico ou também do ético. Outros buscam a origem da religião decididamente na autoafirmação ética, na manutenção, pelo homem, da sua liberdade e da sua dignidade morais diante da necessidade e da coação do mundo físico: desse modo já Kant postulava, com base na natureza moral do homem, a existência de um Deus que pudesse tornar o mundo da necessidade servil ao da liberdade, a lei da natureza à lei moral; e do mesmo modo raciocinam Ritschl e Herrmann. E há, por fim, ainda os que reconhecem na religião não só um elemento ético, mas também um místico, e que por isso a consideram fundada não mais ou menos num livre ato de vontade, mas na natureza do homem: segundo estes, na religião o homem busca de fato a autoafirmação ética, mas também algo mais e diferente, a saber, comunhão com Deus, vida em Deus, e justamente por aí também liberdade diante do mundo; a religião é primeiro uma relação com Deus, e só depois com o mundo.

17. Essa explicação da religião, por mais geralmente aceita que seja, não pode contudo satisfazer. Em primeiro lugar, a ideia de Deus permanece aí sem explicação. Diz-se comumente que o homem natural, não desenvolvido e infantil, não faz distinção entre o pessoal e o impessoal, pensa as forças da natureza por analogia consigo mesmo e julga todas as coisas habitadas por almas e espíritos; o fundamento e o pressuposto da religião seria então a chamada cosmovisão animista. Mas, em primeiro lugar, é muito improvável que a distinção óbvia entre seres pessoais e coisas impessoais fosse desconhecida dos primeiros homens. Depois, a crença em almas e espíritos que habitam e operam nos fenômenos da natureza ainda não é, em si mesma, religião: essas almas ou espíritos só se tornam objeto religioso quando lhes é transferido o conceito do divino. É preciso, pois, supor no homem certa consciência da divindade, para que ele possa fazer das almas e espíritos que julgava presentes nas forças da natureza o objeto da sua veneração religiosa. O método psicológico tenta inverter a ordem: o homem natural ter-se-ia posto primeiro numa relação religiosa com uma ou outra força natural pessoalmente concebida, e só depois teria daí abstraído o conceito do divino. Mas assim, em todo caso, não se passa com os homens históricos: todos recebem primeiro, pelo ensino e pela educação, o conceito da Divindade, e sobre essa base desenvolvem uma relação religiosa; e não há uma única prova de que com os primeiros homens se tenha passado ou pudesse passar-se de outro modo. Uma relação religiosa com um poder qualquer sempre pressupõe já a ideia de Deus, e esta permanece, naquele método, inexplicada.

Além disso, também a origem da religião no sentido subjetivo permanece incompreensível nessa análise psicológica. Concedida a crença em seres pessoais na natureza: por que e sobretudo quando é que o buscar desses seres algum bem sensível ou moral se torna religião? A religião só surge quando não se pede auxílio em geral, como os homens o buscam também uns dos outros e na arte e na ciência, mas quando de modo inteiramente particular se despertam no coração fé, confiança e consciência de dependência para com um poder divino invisível. A religião sempre pressupõe certa distinção entre Deus e mundo, entre o poder de um ser superior e as forças subordinadas na natureza. Esse poder divino pode, sim, ser pensado como habitando nos fenômenos da natureza; mas o objeto da veneração religiosa nunca é a força natural em si, e sim o ser divino que nela se revela e nela opera.

A maior objeção contra a explicação mencionada está, porém, em que com ela Deus se torna nada mais que um socorro na necessidade, um ser cuja existência foi imaginada para prover o homem de algum bem. A religião torna-se meio para satisfazer as necessidades sensíveis ou morais, mas sempre egoístas, do homem; o egoísmo teria sido a fonte e a origem da religião. A primeira forma dessa explicação o diz claramente e sem disfarce. Na segunda forma a religião é derivada não de necessidades sensíveis, mas morais: a Divindade não é produto de desejos eudemonistas, mas postulado da razão prática. Isso, porém, pouco muda na essência da coisa: o ponto de partida subjetivo e egoísta não é superado, e Deus continua servo do homem. A terceira forma tenta evitar esse egoísmo reconhecendo na religião um elemento místico e fazendo assim de Deus o objeto direto da veneração religiosa; mas também aqui esse misticismo foi acrescentado depois, não foi o princípio e a origem da religião. Em qualquer forma em que se apresente, nessa explicação o homem está sempre primeiro em relação com o mundo, e é do conflito com esse mundo que nascem a religião e a ideia de Deus. Deus vem assim a ficar em terceiro lugar; torna-se um ser de desejo, produto do egoísmo do homem, auxílio na luta contra a natureza. A afinidade de todas essas explicações com a de Feuerbach é manifesta.

Mas por que, pode perguntar-se, o homem não se contenta com as forças presentes na natureza? Por que não busca na ciência, na arte, na indústria, em todos os fatores da cultura, o auxílio de que precisa na luta contra a natureza? Como se explica que continue a crer nos deuses, criações dos seus desejos, mesmo onde tantas vezes o desapontam e o deixam à própria sorte? Donde vem que lhes sacrifique tudo, até o mais caro que tem, e nada julgue custoso demais para a sua veneração? E como é que continua a servir aos deuses mesmo quando, por outros meios e caminhos, o seu domínio sobre a natureza gradualmente se amplia? Se aquela explicação da origem da religião fosse a correta, então a religião perderia diante da arte e da ciência a sua independência, e o seu fim estaria alcançado tão logo o homem pudesse salvar-se de outro modo.

18. Mas, à parte essas objeções especiais, há sério receio contra o próprio método segundo o qual se investiga a origem da religião. Que quer dizer que o surgimento da religião deve ser explicado cientificamente? Não pode querer dizer que se trace historicamente a religião do primeiro homem ou dos primeiros homens, pois a história das religiões aqui nos deixa completamente na mão: o método histórico é inutilizável. E ter as formas religiosas dos povos mais baixos e selvagens pelas originais — para isso falta, como cada vez mais se vê, todo direito. O método não pode, pois, ser outro senão o psicológico, e este nunca pode ir além de uma hipótese, que pareça plausível e que, à falta de melhor, goze por um tempo de assentimento geral.

Mas qual é a questão que esse método psicológico se põe na busca da origem da religião? Nenhuma outra senão esta: de que causas e forças no homem ou na humanidade procedeu a religião? Deve, pois, buscar-se aquele ponto em que forças de vida ainda não religiosas do homem se combinam para formar o germe vital da religião. Hipoteticamente, portanto, tem de supor-se um homem tão pouco desenvolvido e tão bárbaro que nele de religião ainda não haja questão. Uma semen religionis original e inata não pode, nesse ponto de vista, ser reconhecida; pois então esse sentimento original, ou como quer que se lhe chame, é algo cientificamente inexplicado, uma espécie de revelação mística, um pressuposto já daquilo que se quer explicar. O método psicológico exige, portanto, que a religião seja explicada a partir de fatores no homem que em si mesmos não são religiosos, mas que, por certa combinação e sob a influência da natureza vinda de fora, fazem surgir a religião. Mas tal homem sem Deus é puro ente de pensamento, abstração tão ociosa e vazia quanto o homem natural de Rousseau e dos adeptos do contrato social: na realidade nunca existiu.

A religião torna-se assim inteiramente produto do acaso, como a moral em Darwin. Um "mero acaso", diz Rauwenhoff, podia levar o homem a fazer de alguma coisa da natureza um deus; outra combinação dos fatores, e nunca teria havido religião. Com isso a religião perde o seu lugar independente, a sua universalidade e a sua necessidade; e também o seu valor e o seu direito deixam então de poder sustentar-se. Pois não é verdade, como afirma Zeller, que o valor da religião seja independente do modo do seu surgimento: se a origem da religião é acidental, ela perde o fundamento firme sobre o qual deve repousar. E também o seu direito de existir fica então seriamente ameaçado; pois se a religião é explicada de tal modo que a existência de Deus de nenhuma maneira precise ser admitida, então, ainda que o seu surgimento fosse psicologicamente uma necessidade, ela é metafisicamente nada mais que um absurdo. O método psicológico tenta de fato compreender a religião sem a existência de Deus. O homem é mero ser natural, produto da natureza; é ele quem, levado por toda sorte de circunstâncias, é trazido à religião e produz a ideia de Deus. Não é Deus quem cria o homem; é o homem quem cria Deus. A religio subjectiva é a fonte da religio objectiva; o homem determina se e como quer servir a Deus. Com isso o método psicológico está julgado: está em princípio em conflito com a essência da religião e destrói, portanto, o fenômeno que tem de explicar.

D. Resultado

19. A investigação precedente obriga-nos a escolher outro ponto de partida e a seguir outro método. A essência e a origem da religião não se deixam explicar pelo método histórico e psicológico; nem o seu direito nem o seu valor se deixam com eles manter. Não serve compreender a religião sem Deus. Deus é o grande pressuposto da religião; a sua existência e a sua revelação são o fundamento sobre o qual toda religião repousa. Diz-se hoje que é acientífico, na explicação de qualquer fenômeno, remontar a Deus; e de fato Ele tampouco pode servir de asylum ignorantiae. Mas é pobre a ciência que não pode levar Deus em conta e busca explicar todas as coisas fora dele e sem ele. Na explicação científica da religião isso vale em duplo sentido, pois aqui Deus é o objeto próprio e direto. Sem Ele toda religião é um absurdo. A escolha está apenas entre estes dois: ou a religião é loucura, porque Deus não existe ou é absolutamente incognoscível; ou ela é verdade, e então exige e pressupõe, inexoravelmente e em sentido estritamente lógico e científico, a existência e a revelação de Deus. Quem não pode aceitar o primeiro é compelido a admitir o segundo e a reconhecer Deus como o principium essendi de toda religião. Só há religião porque Deus é e quer ser servido pelas criaturas. Só quando a existência de Deus está firmada é que a essência e a origem, o direito e o valor da religião se deixam compreender.

Mas a religião exige ainda mais. Pressupõe não só que Deus existe, mas também que Ele se revela e se dá a conhecer de um ou de outro modo. Todas as religiões têm esse conceito de revelação. Ele não lhes é imposto de fora, mas flui da sua própria origem e da sua própria essência. Não há religião sem revelação; a revelação é o correlato necessário da religião. A essência da religião consiste não só, subjetivamente, numa disposição religiosa que se exprime a bel-prazer, mas também numa religio objectiva, num dogma, numa moral e num culto, que têm autoridade para o crente apenas porque, segundo a sua convicção, contêm a vontade e o serviço de Deus. A origem da religião não se deixa indicar historicamente nem explicar psicologicamente, mas aponta necessariamente para a revelação como seu fundamento objetivo. E a distinção entre a religião, de um lado, e a ciência e a arte, de outro, leva-nos pela mão a esse mesmo conceito de revelação. A natureza, o mundo em torno de nós, é a fonte do nosso conhecimento e mestra da arte; mas na religião esse mesmo mundo entra em consideração sob outro ponto de vista, a saber, como revelação de Deus, como manifestação do seu eterno poder e da sua divindade. Na religião trata-se, para o homem, de coisa inteiramente diversa do que na ciência e na arte: nela ele não busca um aumento do seu conhecimento nem uma satisfação da sua imaginação, mas vida eterna em comunhão com Deus, uma mudança real do seu ser, livramento do pecado e da miséria. Na religião é do próprio Deus que se trata para ele, porque percebe que só em Deus pode encontrar repouso e paz. Por isso a religião exige outra fonte que a ciência e a arte: pressupõe uma revelação que faça o próprio Deus vir a ele e o traga à comunhão com Ele. A religião é, na sua essência e na sua origem, produto da revelação. Aos poucos isso também começa a ser reconhecido: a filosofia da religião, que por algum tempo não julgou o conceito de revelação digno de discussão séria e o submeteu apenas a uma crítica negativa, vê-se compelida a contar com ele. A concepção dessa revelação ainda é muito diversa e por vezes muito incorreta; mas o fato de que muitos retomem esse conceito e tentem atribuir-lhe um sentido positivo fala com força. Também a Sagrada Escritura parte da existência e da revelação de Deus: Deus não se deixa a si mesmo sem testemunho, e por isso do lado do homem há um buscar, para ver se porventura o possa achar e apalpar. Segundo a Escritura, houve revelação antes e depois da queda. A revelação é o principium cognoscendi externum da religião.

Se assim se explicam a essência e a origem da religião a partir da revelação, isso não deve entender-se em sentido sociniano, como se a religião não estivesse fundada na natureza do homem, mas tivesse surgido de uma comunicação externa de doutrina. Nesse caso Schelling teria razão em observar que, se o homem originário não fosse já em si mesmo consciência de Deus, e se uma consciência de Deus lhe devesse advir primeiro por um ato particular, então os que isso admitem teriam de afirmar um ateísmo originário da consciência humana. A religião seria então um donum superadditum, não essencialmente própria da natureza humana. Mas o homem é homem porque é imagem de Deus; imediatamente, como homem, ele é um ser religioso. A religião não é a essência do homem — pois a religião não é substância, mas habitus ou virtus —, mas é propriedade essencial da natureza humana, dada com ela como tal e a ela tão inseparavelmente ligada que pelo pecado foi de fato destruída, mas não pôde ser extirpada. Por isso a religião é também universal e tem tanto poder na vida e na história. Queira-se ou não, ao fim sempre se esbarra em certa disposição religiosa no homem. Pode chamar-se-lhe de modos diversos — semen religionis, sensus divinitatis (Calvino), sentimento religioso (Schleiermacher), fé (Hartmann) —, mas é sempre certa receptividade da natureza humana para tornar-se consciente do divino, à qual a investigação filosófica da religião tem de voltar e na qual tem de terminar. Além disso ela não pode penetrar.

Pois uma de duas: ou a religião é essencialmente própria da natureza humana e assim dada com ela desde o princípio, ou o homem não era originariamente um ser religioso — e assim tampouco um homem, mas um animal — e gradualmente se desenvolveu até sê-lo, e então a religião é acidental e um momento passageiro no processo da evolução. A questão a que a investigação filosófica por fim desce é esta: é o homem, desde o princípio, homem, imagem de Deus, aparentado com Deus, ser religioso, ou desenvolveu-se ele gradualmente até isso? Foi a cultura, ou a natureza rude e selvagem, a primeira condição do gênero humano? É o começo da humanidade absoluto ou relativo? Quem quer manter a religião em sua essência e a considera e reconhece como propriedade essencial da natureza humana toma o começo do homem como absoluto e o faz, desde o princípio, aparentado com Deus e religiosamente disposto. Tal pessoa também não pode mais ter objeção alguma ao status integritatis em que a Escritura faz aparecer o primeiro homem. Segundo a Escritura, o homem foi homem desde o primeiro momento da sua existência, criado à imagem de Deus, e por isso desde esse mesmo momento também um ser religioso. A religião não lhe foi acrescentada depois por criação separada nem no longo caminho da evolução, mas está de si mesma encerrada no seu ser criado à imagem de Deus. Aquela condição original foi de fato corrompida e destruída pelo pecado; mas o homem permanece aparentado com Deus, é geração dele, e continua a buscá-lo, para ver se porventura o pode apalpar e achar.

À revelação objetiva de Deus corresponde, pois, no homem, certa faculdade, certa aptidão da sua natureza, para notar o divino. Deus não faz obra pela metade: não cria apenas a luz, mas também o olho para contemplá-la. Ao externo corresponde o interno. O ouvido é adaptado ao mundo dos sons; o logos nas criaturas corresponde ao logos no homem e torna possível a ciência; o belo na natureza encontra ressonância no seu senso do belo. E assim há não só uma revelação externa e objetiva, mas também uma interna e subjetiva. A primeira é o principium cognoscendi externum da religião; a segunda, o principium cognoscendi internum. Ambos os principia estão estreitissimamente ligados um ao outro, como a luz com o olho, como o pensamento no mundo com a razão no homem. A questão de qual dos dois foi primeiro, a revelação externa ou a interna, é inteiramente supérflua: no mesmo momento em que Deus se revelou ao homem criando-o à sua imagem, este conheceu a Deus e o serviu, e inversamente. E religião verdadeira e genuína só pode existir numa perfeita harmonia da revelação interna com a externa: verdadeiramente religioso, imagem de Deus, servo de Deus, filho de Deus, homem no sentido pleno, é aquele que ama a Deus, tal como Ele é e se dá a conhecer pela revelação, com todo o seu coração, com toda a sua alma e com todas as suas forças.

Assim como na ciência, também na religião se distinguem, portanto, três principia. Há religião porque Deus é Deus e como Deus quer ser servido pelas suas criaturas racionais — o principium essendi. Para esse fim Ele se revela ao homem em palavra e obra — principium cognoscendi externum — e o torna subjetivamente capaz de conhecer e amar a Deus por meio dessa revelação — principium cognoscendi internum. As formas em que a revelação se dá externa e internamente podem alterar-se conforme a diferente condição em que o homem, como criatura mutável, se pode encontrar: são diferentes no estado de integridade e no de corrupção, no estado de graça e no de glória. Mas os três principia permanecem os mesmos. Não há religião senão porque Deus se dá a conhecer, objetiva e subjetivamente, ao homem. E também na religião esses principia encontram o seu fundamento no ser trinitário de Deus: é o Pai quem no Filho e pelo Espírito se revela. Ninguém conhece o Pai senão aquele a quem o Filho, pelo Espírito, o quiser revelar (Mt 11; Jo 16; 1Co 2).

§ 9. Revelação geral

A. O conceito de revelação.

1. A religião, investigada em sua essência e em sua origem, conduz ela mesma ao conceito de revelação. A história das religiões dá-nos a conhecer esse conceito como o correlato necessário de toda religião, e a filosofia da religião não pode mais passar por ele em silêncio. Mas o modo como a revelação é concebida na teologia e na filosofia nem sempre concorda com o próprio conceito. O conceito de revelação traz consigo um certo conteúdo, que precisa ser reconhecido em sua verdade para que se possa continuar falando de revelação; ele não pode servir de bandeira que encobre carga falsa. Em primeiro lugar, revelação é um conceito inteiramente religioso: não a filosofia, mas a religião, não a razão, mas a história o põe em nossas mãos. À ciência e à filosofia deve por isso ser negado o direito de determiná-lo a priori e depois obrigar os fenômenos históricos e religiosos reunidos sob o nome de revelação a lhe caber exatamente.

Compreende-se por si que sistemas filosóficos como o panteísmo e o materialismo não podem reconhecer esse conceito em seu direito. Neles não há lugar para revelação; ambos são, por força de seu princípio, incapazes de avaliar em seu verdadeiro valor a revelação e, com ela, também a religião. Se Deus não existe e, na palavra de Feuerbach, o segredo da teologia é a antropologia, então religião e revelação estão com isso julgadas de si mesmas e não são senão uma alucinação do espírito humano. E o panteísmo tampouco pode atribuir realidade alguma à revelação. Se Deus e o homem são um em substância, já não é possível uma relação do homem com Deus como a que se dá na religião; a religião é então, quando muito, o vir-a-si da consciência de Deus no homem, o retorno do Absoluto a si mesmo na consciência humana, e a revelação não pode ser mais do que um nome para a religião no homem, vista do seu lado objetivo. Assim diz Ed. von Hartmann que revelação objetivamente e fé subjetivamente são um só e o mesmo ato, concebido do lado divino e do lado humano; uma revelação externa, objetiva, não existe, e revelação nada é senão o habitar e o operar de Deus em cada ser humano. Deixando agora de lado a questão de saber se também nisso não se encerra uma verdade e se a revelação objetiva não deve ser completada subjetivamente na iluminação, é claro em todo caso que a revelação, tal como a religião e a história das religiões no-la dão a conhecer, está com isso inteiramente perdida.

A religião é sempre, com efeito, uma relação do homem com uma pessoa divina, cuja existência objetiva e real está, para a consciência religiosa, acima de toda dúvida. Tão logo o homem começa a duvidar da existência distinta e independente do objeto de sua veneração, está acabada a sua religião. Essa relação do homem com Deus na religião é de natureza ética. A religião não é uma comunhão física ou metafísica de Deus e do homem, como tantas vezes se diz; não consiste numa unidade essencial, numa unio ou communio physica; não é uma substância do homem nem constitui o seu ser, a sua essentia. Ela pressupõe justamente que Deus e o homem, ainda que aparentados, são no entanto distintos. E ela mesma consiste, não numa relação de Deus com o homem — pois Deus não tem religião —, mas numa relação do homem com Deus, e essa relação não é física, metafísica, realis, mas ética e moral: consiste em que o homem conhece a Deus, o ama e vive para Ele. A religião pressupõe, sim, que Deus e o homem estejam em parentesco e, em bom sentido, também em comunhão um com o outro, mas ela mesma não é de dois lados, e sim de um só. Por mais intimamente que religião e revelação se conexionem, são todavia duas coisas: não dois lados de uma mesma coisa, mas essencial e materialmente diferentes uma da outra, como o olho e a luz são aparentados e no entanto distintos. Viemos nus ao mundo e nada trazemos conosco; todo o nosso alimento, tanto espiritual quanto natural, recebemo-lo de fora. Também na religião o conteúdo nos vem de fora, pela revelação.

2. Revelação, como esse conceito nos é entregue pela religião e é aqui tomado ainda no sentido mais amplo, é toda ação que procede de Deus a fim de trazer o homem àquela relação peculiar com Ele que se designa pelo nome de religião, e nela conservá-lo. Trata-se aqui, antes de tudo, de conceber sempre e em toda parte essa revelação como uma ação, como um ato do lado de Deus. Deus nunca faz nada inconscientemente; faz tudo com pensamento e tem em tudo um propósito. A revelação nunca é uma emanação inconsciente, um transluzir involuntário de Deus em suas obras, mas sempre um dar-se a conhecer consciente, livre e ativo ao homem. Religião e revelação repousam ambas, por sua natureza, sobre o fundamento do teísmo, isto é, sobre a fé de que Deus e o homem existem não separados, mas de fato distintos. Dito com força, a revelação tem sempre por pressuposto que há dois mundos, um sobrenatural e um natural, um celeste e um terreno; e revelação é então toda operação que procede daquele outro mundo invisível para dentro deste mundo visível, a fim de tornar o homem atento às coisas que são de cima.

Os modos e as formas sob os quais Deus se revela podem ser diversos, assim como um homem pode dar-se a conhecer a outro de maneiras diversas: Deus pode revelar-se direta e imediatamente, e nisso pode servir-se de meios ordinários ou extraordinários. Essas formas são, em certo sentido, de significação subordinada, porque instrumental. Mas a revelação, venha ela a nós por via ordinária ou por via inabitual, é sempre um ato do lado de Deus. Quem assim a entende é, em princípio, supranaturalista, aceite ou não a possibilidade do milagre. A questão do naturalismo e do supranaturalismo não se decide apenas com a chamada revelação sobrenatural; ela já está de fato decidida aqui, à entrada, com o conceito de revelação no sentido geral. O deísmo é insustentável. Só há escolha entre teísmo e panteísmo (materialismo). O panteísmo não tem revelação e por isso tampouco tem religião. O teísmo é de si supranaturalista, não no sentido histórico da palavra, mas neste: que reconhece uma ordo supra hanc naturam e admite uma operação daquele mundo neste. Religião, revelação, supranaturalismo e teísmo estão e caem juntos.

O fim da revelação não é outro senão despertar e cultivar no homem a religião. Tudo o que a isso visa e a isso serve é revelação em sentido próprio. A revelação coincide com todas as obras de Deus na natureza e na graça; abrange toda a criação e a recriação. Tudo o que é e acontece é para o piedoso um meio de conduzi-lo a Deus. As definições usuais, de que a revelação consistiria em comunicação de doutrina ou de vida, já se mostram aqui demasiado estreitas. Em sua revelação Deus está empenhado em pôr o homem numa relação religiosa com Ele; ora, a religião abrange o homem inteiro, com todas as suas faculdades e forças, e na revelação Deus se aproxima do homem inteiro, para ganhá-lo todo para o seu serviço de amor. Mais: a revelação não pode ter por fim pôr o homem individual numa relação religiosa com Deus. A humanidade é um todo, e é ela o objeto do amor de Deus; a revelação tem, pois, por alvo final fazer da própria humanidade, como um todo, um reino, um povo de Deus. A revelação não é um fato isolado que esteja por si na história. É um sistema de atos de Deus, que começa com a criação e termina no novo céu e na nova terra; é instrução, educação, condução, governo, renovação, perdão — é tudo isso junto. Revelação é tudo o que Deus faz para recriar a humanidade à sua imagem e semelhança.

B. Revelação geral e especial.

3. A teologia cristã cedo veio a fazer nessa revelação uma distinção importante. Por um lado, não se podia negar de todo a conexão e a concordância entre a religião dos cristãos e a dos pagãos, entre a teologia e a filosofia; por outro, o cristianismo era todavia uma religião própria e independente, em tudo diferente da dos pagãos. Assim se chegou à distinção entre a revelatio (religio, theologia) naturalis e a supernaturalis. Quanto à substância, ela já se encontra nos mais antigos pais da igreja: Justino Mártir fala de um ensino humano, obtido pela semente do Logos implantada em todo o gênero dos homens, e de um conhecimento e contemplação que só por Cristo se tornam nossa parte; Agostinho reconhece uma revelação de Deus na natureza, mas põe ao lado da ratio a auctoritas, a fé, que é a única que conduz ao verdadeiro conhecimento de Deus; e em Damasceno a distinção já traz todo o caráter de um dogma. Também a divisão posterior da theologia naturalis em insita e acquisita já se acha entre os mais antigos escritores eclesiásticos: Damasceno põe claramente lado a lado o conhecimento inato e o adquirido de Deus.

Não tão cedo, porém, se demarcaram as fronteiras entre as duas espécies de revelação. Por muito tempo ainda se tentou provar os dogmas cristãos a partir da natureza e da razão; o mais longe nisso foi Raimundo de Sabunde, que em seu Livro da natureza procurou edificar toda a doutrina cristã da fé a partir da natureza do homem, sem auxílio da Escritura e da tradição. Mas essa argumentação racional era apenas uma ajuda que vinha depois: os dogmas estavam fixados a priori sobre o fundamento da revelação, e as coisas invisíveis são amparadas na fé por meio das coisas que foram feitas. Além disso, o conhecimento que se podia obter da natureza limitava-se a alguns articuli mixti, concentrados em torno dos três conceitos Deus, virtude e imortalidade.

Na escolástica, porém, a distinção entre a theologia naturalis e a supernaturalis foi sendo estirada cada vez mais e passou a uma oposição absoluta. Pela revelação natural havia a obter, de Deus e das coisas divinas, algum conhecimento estritamente científico. Tomás está tão firmemente convencido disso que levanta a questão de saber se então a aceitação dessas verdades conhecidas pela natureza não perde todo o seu mérito; pois crer só é meritório se não é saber, mas um ter por verdadeiro em virtude de autoridade, um ato do intelecto movido pela vontade movida pela graça. A resposta é que o saber de fato diminui a ratio fidei, mas que no crente permanece sempre a ratio caritatis, isto é, a disposição de aceitar também o conhecido, de novo e sempre, como verdadeiro em virtude da autoridade de Deus; e essa disposição de crer os articuli mixti por autoridade permanece também sempre necessária, por circunstâncias especiais. A esse conhecimento vindo da natureza e da razão acrescentou-se então, pela revelação sobrenatural, o conhecimento dos mysteria; mas este repousa exclusivamente sobre autoridade e é e permanece, do princípio ao fim, matéria de fé. Os mistérios do cristianismo pertencem a uma ordem que não por razão acidental, pelo pecado, mas por sua natureza é, para todo homem, também para o homem sem pecado, sim, mesmo para os anjos, sobrenatural em sentido próprio, e por isso nunca pode ser conhecida senão por revelação.

Já se pode observar aqui que, em Roma, saber e crer, ratio e auctoritas, revelação natural e sobrenatural estão dualisticamente lado a lado. Roma reconhece assim, de um lado, o direito do racionalismo no terreno da revelação natural e condena o supranaturalismo excessivo que também nos articuli mixti não julga possível conhecimento algum senão por revelação; e, de outro lado, sustenta o mais rigorosamente possível o supranaturalismo no terreno dos mistérios e condena todo racionalismo que, a priori ou a posteriori, procura nos dogmas escapar à autoridade e à fé e fazê-los passar ao saber. Rejeita tanto Tertuliano quanto Orígenes, e condena tanto o tradicionalismo de de Bonald quanto o racionalismo de Hermes. A igreja romana confessa, segundo o Vaticano, que Deus pode ser conhecido com certeza pela luz natural da razão humana a partir das coisas criadas, mas que aprouve a Deus revelar-se a si mesmo e aos decretos eternos de sua vontade ao gênero humano por outra via, e esta sobrenatural.

4. A Reforma adotou essa distinção entre revelatio naturalis e supernaturalis e, no entanto, deu-lhe em princípio um sentido inteiramente diverso. Os Reformadores admitiam, sem dúvida, uma revelação de Deus na natureza. Mas o homem estava pelo pecado de tal modo entenebrecido no entendimento que também não podia conhecer e entender retamente essa revelação. Havia, portanto, uma dupla necessidade: que Deus incluísse de novo na revelação especial aquelas verdades que em si mesmas são cognoscíveis pela natureza; e que o homem, para tornar a perceber Deus na natureza, fosse primeiro iluminado pelo Espírito de Deus. Para entender a revelação geral de Deus na natureza era objetivamente necessária a revelação especial na Sagrada Escritura, que por isso foi comparada por Calvino a um par de óculos, e subjetivamente o homem precisava do olho da fé, para contemplar a Deus também nas obras de suas mãos. Igualmente importante foi a modificação introduzida pela Reforma na concepção da revelação sobrenatural: esta não é sobrenatural em primeiro lugar porque em si mesma pertença a outra ordem e ultrapasse o entendimento também do homem sem pecado e dos anjos, mas é sobrenatural sobretudo porque ultrapassa de longe os pensamentos e os desejos do homem pecador e decaído. Com os Reformadores a theologia naturalis perdeu assim a sua independência racional: não foi tratada à parte, mas incorporada à doutrina cristã da fé.

Mas houve várias causas que retiveram esse princípio da Reforma em seu desenvolvimento e em sua plena aplicação. Houve excesso de um lado. O anabatismo rejeitou inteiramente a ordo naturalis e tentou fundar de modo revolucionário um reino dos céus sobre a terra. Os socinianos rejeitaram total e inteiramente a theologia naturalis e derivaram todo conhecimento de Deus da revelação. Lutero, no seu combate à doutrina escolástica de que os dons naturais permaneceram íntegros, foi tão longe que proibiu a Aristóteles, à razão e à filosofia todo direito de falar in theologicis e chamou a razão, em matéria de religião, cega de todo. Os luteranos estritos seguiram o Mestre; e a Fórmula de Concórdia, ainda que reconhecendo que a razão humana ou entendimento natural do homem conserva alguma centelha obscura da noção de que Deus existe e retém alguma partícula da lei, põe a ênfase de modo tão unilateral sobre a treva e a impotência do homem natural em matéria de religião, que a coerência e a ligação da revelação especial com a geral fica inteiramente rompida: o homem, nas coisas espirituais e quanto à conversão, não é mais do que pedra, tronco ou lodo.

A reação não podia deixar de vir. No anabatismo e no socinianismo o supranaturalismo excessivo converteu-se em racionalismo. Lutero foi forçado, por não poder afinal negar toda percepção e todo juízo à razão, a fazer uma distinção aguda entre o espiritual e o mundano, o celeste e o terreno, o eterno e o temporal. E em suas pegadas os teólogos luteranos distinguiram dois hemisférios, um inferior e outro superior: nas coisas terrenas a razão ainda é livre e capaz de muito bem, aqui ela é até certo ponto independente da fé. Também Calvino, embora por sua doutrina da gratia communis em condição muito mais favorável que Lutero, nem sempre foi além da velha antítese dualista entre revelatio naturalis e supernaturalis. A razão recebeu assim de novo alguma autoridade ao lado da fé; parecia que nem sempre tinha de ser conduzida pela fé, mas que era livre e independente num domínio, por menor e mais insignificante que fosse. Com esse direito concedido, ou ao menos não seriamente contestado, ela fez conquistas e foi pouco a pouco estendendo o seu poder: primeiro nas coisas civis, depois na ciência, logo na filosofia e por fim também na teologia ela se levanta ao lado e contra a fé. Alsted publicou em 1615 uma Theologia naturalis à parte, cujo conteúdo contava em sete dogmas de teor teísta e moral; muitos teólogos reformados seguiram esse exemplo, sobretudo quando a filosofia de Descartes ganhou influência. Pelo deísmo inglês e pelo racionalismo alemão a theologia naturalis ou rationalis cresceu de tal modo em poder e prestígio que rejeitou a theologia revelata como inteiramente desnecessária. Herbert de Cherbury deu à religio naturalis cinco artigos por conteúdo: que há um Deus supremo; que Ele deve ser cultuado; que a virtude e a piedade são as partes principais do culto divino; que é preciso doer-se dos pecados e deles arrepender-se; que da bondade e da justiça divinas se dá prêmio ou pena, tanto nesta vida quanto depois desta vida.

Mas, depois de banir a theologia revelata, ela por sua vez foi também julgada. Kant argumentou em sua crítica da razão pura que esta se limita aos fenômenos sensivelmente perceptíveis e não pode penetrar nem ao suprassensível nem ao sobrenatural. A história das religiões mostrou que nenhuma religião se bastou com a revelatio naturalis, que em parte alguma existiu uma religio naturalis e que todas as religiões são positivas. E a crítica da Escritura minou a revelatio supernaturalis e apagou as fronteiras entre ela e a revelatio naturalis. Tornou-se assim geral a convicção de que, para obter algum conhecimento de Deus, era preciso tomar outro caminho que o da razão e o da demonstração científica, a saber, o da fé, ou o da experiência moral, ou o da imaginação. A theologia e a religio naturalis, e com elas também a revelatio naturalis, perderam o seu valor; as provas da existência de Deus, da alma e da imortalidade foram abandonadas e banidas da dogmática. Tudo indica, contudo — como se mostrará no locus de Deo —, que as provas da existência de Deus voltam a subir em valor. O bom pensamento que jaz na velha theologia naturalis vai sendo aos poucos reconhecido de novo.

5. A Escritura conhece, sim, o conceito de uma ordem fixa da natureza, mas na revelação não faz distinção entre o natural e o sobrenatural: usa para ambos as mesmas palavras — descobrir, manifestar, revelar —, também para a revelatio naturalis (Jó 12.22; Rm 1.18,19). Nösgen objeta, pois, sem razão que se dê já o nome de revelação à revelação de Deus na natureza. A rigor, do ponto de vista da Escritura toda revelação, também a que se dá na natureza, é sobrenatural. A própria palavra nada inclui a respeito do modo pelo qual algo se torna manifesto; diz apenas que algo que estava oculto vem à luz. Na esfera religiosa ela indica que Deus possui uma vida própria, independente, distinta da natureza, e pode agora, de seu ocultamento, vir de um modo ou de outro à vista das criaturas racionais. De revelação em sentido próprio só pode, portanto, falar quem reconhece o supranatural, uma ordo supra hanc naturam; e todo aquele que usa a palavra nesse sentido é em princípio supranaturalista, ainda que admita apenas uma revelação por via natural. A distinção entre revelatio naturalis e supernaturalis não é tirada da ação de Deus, que se exprime numa e noutra revelação, mas do modo como essa revelação se dá, a saber, per ou praeter hanc naturam.

Em sua origem, toda revelação é supranatural. Deus sempre opera (Jo 5.17). Esse operar de Deus para fora começou com a criação. A criação é a primeira revelação de Deus, começo e fundamento de toda revelação subsequente; o conceito bíblico de revelação tem sua raiz no de criação. Pela criação Deus saiu primeiro para fora, para as criaturas, e a elas se revelou. Quando Deus cria o mundo por sua Palavra e o faz viver por seu Espírito, aí já estão traçadas as linhas fundamentais de todas as revelações posteriores. Mas à criação liga-se imediatamente a providência, que é também um poder e um ato onipotente e onipresente de Deus. Tudo o que é e acontece é obra de Deus em sentido próprio, e para o piedoso uma revelação de suas virtudes e perfeições. Assim veem a natureza e a história a Escritura: criação, conservação e governo são uma só e poderosa revelação contínua de Deus. Nenhuma poesia da natureza superou ou igualou a de Israel. Os céus contam a glória de Deus, e o firmamento anuncia a obra de suas mãos; a folhagem e a erva, a chuva e a seca, os anos férteis e os estéreis não vêm ao crente por acaso, mas da mão paterna de Deus. A visão da natureza e da história que a Escritura tem é religiosa e por isso também supranatural.

Para a Escritura, também religião e revelação sobrenatural estão ligadas do modo mais estreito. Ela relata tal revelação não só depois, mas já antes da queda. A relação de Deus e do homem no status integritatis é pintada como um convívio pessoal: Deus fala ao homem, dá-lhe um mandamento que ele não podia conhecer por natureza e junta-lhe, como que com a própria mão, a mulher por auxiliadora (Gn 1.28-30; 2.16,22). Também o foedus operum não é um foedus naturae no sentido de surgir por si mesmo da disposição natural do homem, mas é fruto de revelação sobrenatural. E porque o foedus operum não é outra coisa senão a forma da religião no homem criado à imagem de Deus que ainda não obtivera o mais alto, pode-se dizer que a Escritura não consegue pensar religião pura sem revelatio supernaturalis. O sobrenatural não conflita com a natureza do homem nem com a das criaturas; pertence, por assim dizer, à essência do homem. O homem é imagem de Deus e aparentado a Deus, e pela religião está com Deus em relação direta; a natureza dessa relação implica que Deus se revele ao homem criado à sua imagem tanto objetiva quanto subjetivamente. Não há religião sem tradição, dogma e culto, e todos esses estão entretecidos com o conceito de revelação. Todas as religiões são por isso também positivas e repousam não apenas sobre revelação natural, mas sempre também sobre revelação sobrenatural real ou suposta.

E todos os homens reconhecem por natureza o supranatural. O naturalismo é, como o ateísmo, uma invenção da filosofia, mas não tem apoio na natureza humana. Enquanto a religião pertencer à essência do homem, o homem também será e permanecerá supranaturalista. Todo crente, de qualquer direção, pode ser naturalista com a cabeça: com o coração é supranaturalista. Quem quer banir o supranatural da religião, e portanto da oração, do exercício da comunhão com Deus, mata a própria religião. Pois a religião pressupõe parentesco e comunhão reais com Deus e é, de coração e alma, supranaturalista; é inseparável da fé de que Deus está supra naturam e de que pode dispor dela segundo o seu beneplácito, de que faz a ordem da natureza servir à ordem moral, os reinos do mundo ao reino dos céus, a physis ao ethos. Por isso se disse com razão que a oração por um coração puro é tão supranaturalista quanto a oração por um corpo são. O teísta que quer ser deveras teísta e no entanto combate a revelação sobrenatural não está, com essa negação, absolutamente quite com ela: ou tem de recuar ao deísmo ou ao panteísmo, ou tem de avançar e aceitar também a possibilidade da revelação sobrenatural. Não há religio naturalis; a trilogia racionalista é insustentável. A única verdadeira antítese ao reconhecimento do supranatural não é, portanto, o deísmo racionalista, mas o naturalismo, isto é, a crença de que não existe outro poder mais alto do que o que está presente na atual ordem da natureza e nela se revela. Mas então cai também todo direito de crer no triunfo do bem, na vitória final do reino de Deus, no poder da ordem moral do mundo. Pois o bem, o verdadeiro, a ordem moral do mundo, o reino de Deus são coisas que em si mesmas não têm poder de se realizar; e a esperança de que os homens os levem ao domínio e cedam ao poder da verdade é desmentida todos os dias pela experiência. Só então o seu triunfo está assegurado, se Deus é um ser pessoal e onipotente e pode conduzir toda a criação, apesar de toda resistência, ao fim por Ele pretendido. Religião, moralidade, reconhecimento de um destino para a humanidade e para o mundo, fé na vitória do bem, cosmovisão teísta, fé num Deus pessoal — tudo isso está inseparavelmente ligado ao supranaturalismo. A ideia de Deus e da religião envolve a de revelação.

6. A revelação sobrenatural não pode, contudo, ser identificada com a revelação imediata. A distinção entre revelação mediata e imediata foi tomada cada vez em sentidos diversos. Antigamente chamava-se imediata toda revelação que vinha ao próprio recipiente sem intermediário, e mediata a que era transmitida a outros por anjos ou homens; e, na medida em que aos profetas e apóstolos a revelação vinha em geral pessoalmente, ao passo que a nós só nos vem por seus escritos, aquela podia ser oposta a esta como revelatio immediata a revelatio mediata. Entre os teólogos racionalistas e modernos essas designações receberam muitas vezes um sentido inteiramente diverso, aumentando com isso a confusão na concepção da revelação.

Em sentido estrito não há revelação imediata, nem na natureza nem na graça. Deus serve-se sempre de um meio, tomado das criaturas ou livremente escolhido, pelo qual se revela aos homens: por sinais e símbolos faz sentir a sua presença, por atos proclama as suas virtudes, por fala e linguagem dá a conhecer a sua vontade e o seu pensamento. Mesmo onde se revela interiormente por seu Espírito na consciência, essa revelação se dá sempre organicamente e portanto por via mediata. A distância entre Criador e criatura é grande demais para que o homem possa perceber a Deus diretamente: finitum non est capax infiniti. Se no status gloriae haverá uma visio Dei per essentiam, só mais tarde poderá ser investigado; mas nesta dispensação toda revelação é mediata. Tal como Deus é e fala em si mesmo, nenhuma criatura o pode contemplar ou compreender. A revelação é por isso sempre um ato de graça: nela Deus desce até a sua criatura, feita à sua imagem. Toda revelação é antropomorfismo, é uma certa encarnação de Deus; dá-se sempre em certas formas, em determinados modi. Na revelatio naturalis os seus pensamentos divinos e eternos são depositados nas criaturas de modo criatural, para que possam ser entendidos pelo homem que pensa. E na revelatio supernaturalis Ele se liga ao espaço e ao tempo, assume linguagem e fala humanas e serve-se de meios criaturais. Por esses meios o homem percebeu e entendeu a Deus tão bem e tão claramente quanto agora o homem piedoso percebe a fala de Deus em toda a natureza. Tão pouco impossível e enganosa quanto é para o crente a revelação de Deus na natureza e na história, tão pouco o é a revelação sobrenatural, na qual Deus se serve de meios inabituais, mas para a qual também de modo especial abre os olhos. A revelação natural e a sobrenatural, portanto, segundo o ensino da Escritura, andam juntas no status integritatis: não são uma antítese, mas se completam. Ambas são mediatas e ligadas a formas e meios determinados; ambas repousam sobre o pensamento de que Deus se inclina em graça até o homem e se lhe torna conforme; e ambas têm estes modi: que Deus faz sentir a sua presença, ouvir a sua voz, contemplar as suas obras. Por aparição, palavra e ato Deus se manifestou aos homens desde o princípio.

Notável é agora o fato de que o pecado, que entra no mundo pelo primeiro homem, não produz mudança alguma no fato mesmo da revelação. Deus continua a revelar-se; não se retira. Antes de tudo, por toda a Escritura nos é ensinada uma revelatio naturalis. A revelação de Deus começou na criação e continua na conservação e no governo de todas as coisas. Ele se revela na natureza ao nosso redor, nela ostentando o seu eterno poder e divindade, e em bênçãos e juízos provando alternadamente a sua bondade e a sua ira (Rm 1.18-20); revela-se na história dos povos e das pessoas (At 17.26); revela-se também no coração e na consciência de cada ser humano (Rm 2.14,15). Essa revelação de Deus é geral, em si mesma perceptível e inteligível para todo homem. A natureza e a história são o livro da onipotência e da sabedoria, da bondade e da justiça de Deus. Todos os povos reconheceram essa revelação até certo ponto; até a idolatria pressupõe que nas criaturas se revelam o poder e a divindade de Deus. Pela teologia cristã essa revelação geral foi em todos os tempos uniformemente aceita e defendida, e em particular pelos teólogos reformados foi mantida e altamente valorizada.

Mas, segundo a Escritura, essa revelação geral não é, em sentido estrito, apenas natural: ela contém também elementos sobrenaturais. A revelação que se dá imediatamente após a queda tem caráter supranatural (Gn 3.8ss.) e, pela tradição, torna-se propriedade da humanidade. O conhecimento e o serviço originais de Deus conservam-se por muito tempo em estado mais ou menos puro. A Caim é concedida graça em lugar de direito: ele se torna até pai de uma linhagem que dá começo à cultura. A aliança que depois do dilúvio se estabelece com Noé, e nele com toda a nova humanidade, é uma aliança da natureza e todavia já não natural, mas fruto de graça sobrenatural imerecida (Gn 8.21,22; 9.1-17). Mais de uma vez fala a Escritura de milagres que Deus operou diante dos olhos dos pagãos e de revelações sobrenaturais que couberam a não israelitas. Uma operação de poderes sobrenaturais no mundo pagão não é a priori nem impossível nem sequer improvável; pode haver verdade no apelo a revelações que é comum a todas as religiões. E, inversamente, nem tudo o que pertence ao domínio da graça especial é, em sentido estrito, sobrenatural: passam-se períodos inteiros na história de Israel, muitos dias e anos na vida de Jesus e igualmente na dos apóstolos, em que nenhuma revelação sobrenatural ocorre e que no entanto formam parte importante da historia revelationis. Quando Jesus anuncia o evangelho aos pobres, isso não pesa menos do que quando cura os enfermos e ressuscita os mortos. Por isso a distinção entre revelação natural e sobrenatural não é idêntica à distinção entre geral e especial; e, para designar a dupla revelação que está na base das religiões pagãs e da religião da Escritura, esta última distinção é preferível à primeira.

C. Insuficiência da revelação geral.

7. Essa revelatio generalis é, porém, por várias razões insuficiente. Nisto todos os teólogos cristãos são unânimes. Os apologistas antigos pintaram em cores muito fortes a fraqueza da razão. Agostinho não nega que também entre os pagãos haja alguma verdade da qual os cristãos podem tirar proveito; mas a filosofia não é o verdadeiro caminho da salvação. Ela pode ensinar só a poucos e só pouco; conhece bem o alvo, mas não o caminho que ao alvo conduz; muitas vezes leva por trilha errada e detém a verdade na injustiça; não a busca de modo piedoso; falta-lhe o amor necessário ao conhecimento da verdade; e é estorvada por sua própria superbia no conhecimento da verdade, pois só a humilitas é o caminho da vida. Por isso é ainda necessário outro caminho para a verdade, a saber, a auctoritas. Tomás argumenta a necessidade da revelação mesmo para os articuli mixti conhecidos pela razão. A igreja romana exprimiu claramente a insufficientia da teologia natural no prefácio do Catecismo Romano e no Vaticano, e os teólogos protestantes não julgaram de outro modo a respeito dessa insuficiência da revelação geral.

A suficiência da revelação geral e da religio naturalis sobre ela edificada foi em tempo mais antigo ensinada apenas pelos pelagianos, que admitiam um triplo caminho de salvação, a saber, a lex naturae, a lex Mosis e a lex Christi. Houve também na igreja cristã, sempre, alguns teólogos que julgaram mais favoravelmente a respeito dos pagãos e creram também na possibilidade de sua salvação, como Justino, Clemente de Alexandria, Erasmo e Zuínglio; mas neles essa crença repousava, em sua maior parte, não sobre a doutrina da suficiência da revelação geral, e sim sobre a suposição de que Deus operava também entre os pagãos com a sua graça especial, seja nesta vida, seja depois dela. Em contraste, a completa suficiência da revelação geral e da religião natural foi ensinada no século XVIII pelos deístas e racionalistas.

Da insuficiência da revelação geral dificilmente pode haver dúvida. Em primeiro lugar, ela aparece no fato de que essa revelação nos fornece, quando muito, algum conhecimento da existência de Deus e de alguns de seus atributos, como a bondade e a justiça, mas nos deixa absolutamente desconhecedores da pessoa de Cristo, que é o único caminho para o Pai (Jo 14.6; At 4.12). A revelação geral é, portanto, insuficiente para o homem enquanto pecador: não sabe de graça nem de perdão; muitas vezes é até uma revelação de ira (Rm 1.20). Graça e perdão, que devem ser a essência da religião, são ato de beneplácito, não de natureza e necessidade. A revelação geral pode, quando muito, dar a conhecer algumas verdades, mas não traz fatos nem história, e assim nada muda no ser. Ilumina de algum modo a consciência e refreia o pecado, mas não recria a natureza do homem e do mundo. Pode infundir temor, mas não confiança e amor.

Em segundo lugar, o conhecimento que a revelação geral pode fornecer não é apenas escasso e insuficiente, mas também incerto, sempre misturado com erro e, para a imensa maioria dos homens, inatingível. A história da filosofia tem sido uma história de sistemas que se demolem uns aos outros: entre os gregos terminou em ceticismo, na Idade Média em nominalismo e agora em agnosticismo. As verdades mais necessárias à religião — existência e ser de Deus, origem e destino do homem e do mundo, pecado e perdão, prêmio e castigo — foram alternadamente ensinadas e contestadas; na filosofia não há certeza suficiente a obter sobre todas essas questões. Por isso pergunta Cícero com razão se não é justamente o melhor e o mais grave dos filósofos quem confessa ignorar muito e ter ainda muito, sempre de novo, a aprender. Mas ainda que alguns pensadores tenham chegado a algum conhecimento verdadeiro e puro, ele veio sempre misturado com toda sorte de erro; todo sistema filosófico tem as suas lacunas e os seus defeitos. Platão, cujo sistema é, segundo Agostinho, o mais aparentado ao cristianismo, defende a exposição das crianças fracas, a pederastia, a comunidade das mulheres. Também na moral há grande diferença e incerteza: verdade aquém dos Pirineus, erro além (Pascal).

E ainda que os filósofos tivessem possuído a doutrina mais bela e mais pura, ter-lhes-ia faltado a autoridade para lhe assegurar entrada entre o povo. Por isso muitas vezes, na prática da vida, eles mesmos se alinham de novo com a crença e os costumes populares; ou se afastam do povo em altivez. Sua contenda mútua e o contraste entre a sua doutrina e a sua vida enfraqueceram-lhes a influência. E ainda que nada disso se desse, a doutrina dos filósofos jamais teria podido tornar-se ou permanecer a religião do povo, porque em matéria de religião um clericalismo intelectual e uma hierarquia científica são intoleráveis. Por isso Tomás tinha inteira razão ao dizer que, mesmo naquelas verdades que a revelação geral nos dá a conhecer, revelação e autoridade continuam necessárias, porque esse conhecimento só é próprio para poucos, exigiria tempo demasiado longo de investigação e ainda então permaneceria imperfeito e incerto.

Em terceiro lugar, a insuficiência da revelação natural é claramente demonstrada pelo fato de que nenhum povo se contentou com a chamada religio naturalis. A religião geral dos deístas, a religião moral da razão de Kant, a piedade e a obediência de Espinosa nada são senão puras abstrações, que na realidade nunca existiram. Ainda que os cinco artigos de Herbert ou a trilogia racionalista de Kant fossem inteiramente certos e rigorosamente demonstráveis, seriam mesmo assim impróprios para fundar uma religião, uma igreja; pois a religião é algo essencialmente diverso da ciência, tem outra fonte e outro fundamento. O século XVIII podia comprazer-se em tais verdades de razão e vãs abstrações; o século XIX, com o seu sentido histórico, logo viu que tal religio naturalis em parte alguma existe e em parte alguma pode existir. Hoje é geralmente concedido que todas as religiões são positivas e repousam sobre revelação.

D. Valor da revelação geral.

8. Com isso, contudo, a revelação geral não perdeu o seu valor e a sua significação. Em primeiro lugar, ela é de grande significação para o mundo pagão: é o fundamento firme e permanente das religiões pagãs. A Sagrada Escritura profere juízo severo sobre o etnicismo e declara a sua origem na apostasia do puro conhecimento de Deus. Todavia esse conhecimento, que era a posse original do homem, ainda por algum tempo continuou a produzir efeitos, e a criação revelava o eterno poder e a divindade de Deus (Rm 1.20); mas os homens, entontecidos em seus pensamentos e entenebrecidos no coração, conhecendo a Deus não o glorificaram como Deus nem lhe deram graças. Além disso, a confusão das línguas e a dispersão dos povos (Gn 11) certamente também foi de grande influência para o desenvolvimento do politeísmo. Para isso aponta ainda a própria palavra hebraica que designa a nação, a multidão ligada pela descendência e pela língua, ao lado da que designa o povo ligado pela unidade de governo: aquela é comumente usada dos povos pagãos e significa não só povos, mas também pagãos, tendo assim sentido nacional e ao mesmo tempo ético-religioso, tal como o latim pagani e o nosso "pagãos".

A unidade de Deus, e com ela a pureza da religião, perdeu-se no fracionamento da humanidade em povos. Cada povo recebeu o seu deus próprio, nacional. E, uma vez perdido o conceito da unidade e da absolutidade de Deus, ao lado daquele deus nacional puderam pouco a pouco ser reconhecidos e adorados como deuses outros poderes; a ideia do divino torna-se impura e desce, os diversos poderes da natureza vêm ao primeiro plano e crescem em significação, a fronteira entre o divino e o criatural é apagada, e a religião pode até degenerar em animismo e fetichismo, em feitiçaria e magia. O caráter das religiões pagãs consiste por isso, segundo a Escritura, em idolatria: os deuses dos pagãos são ídolos, não existem, são mentira e vaidade (Is 41.29; 1Co 8.5); nessas religiões opera até um poder demoníaco (1Co 10.20). A condição em que se acha o mundo pagão, fora da revelação a Israel, fora de Cristo, é descrita como treva, como ignorância, como sabedoria vã e imaginada, como pecado e injustiça (Ef 4.18; At 17.30; 1Co 1.18ss.; Rm 1.24ss.).

O mundo pagão é, em sua origem, em seu caráter e em seu destino, um problema temeroso. Em si mesma, a solução que a Escritura lhe dá não só não é absurda, como até se recomenda por sua simplicidade e naturalidade. Contudo a filosofia, tanto a da história quanto a das religiões, não se contentou com essa solução e avançou outra concepção, que está em oposição direta à da Escritura. É certo que a glorificação da condição infantil dos povos, usual no século passado, já não encontra assentimento. Mas a teoria da evolução, que agora serve de explicação, está igualmente em conflito com a Escritura: assim como a ciência natural tenta derivar o vivo do sem-vida, o orgânico do inorgânico, o homem do animal, o consciente do inconsciente, o mais alto do mais baixo, assim a ciência da religião dos tempos recentes procura explicar a religião a partir de uma condição anterior sem religião, e a religião pura a partir das formas primitivas do fetichismo, do animismo e afins. Hume já começou com isso; em Hegel a coisa se encaixava inteiramente no quadro de sua filosofia panteísta; e desde então tem encontrado sempre mais difusão e defesa.

Por mais geralmente que essa doutrina da evolução seja aceita, ela não tem em todo caso, até aqui, nível mais alto que o de uma hipótese. E não explica os fenômenos: na ciência natural esbarra sempre ainda nos fatos da vida, da consciência, da fala, da linguagem, da vontade; e na ciência da religião a origem e a essência, a verdade e o valor da religião permanecem um protesto contra as suas propostas. Que, além disso, os povos naturais representem a condição original da humanidade, que o fetichismo e o animismo sejam as formas mais antigas de religião e que os primeiros homens fossem como crianças ou selvagens são opiniões que carecem de fundamento suficiente e por isso encontram também cada vez mais contradição: Schelling admitiu como original um monoteísmo relativo, e Max Müller reconhece como religião primitiva um chamado henoteísmo. Também a opinião de que as diversas religiões são momentos sucessivos de um processo de desenvolvimento é muito menos provável do que aquela que as tem por degenerações de uma espécie. A doutrina da Escritura sobre a origem e a essência do etnicismo continua, pois, a ser defendida, com maior ou menor decisão, por muitos.

9. Mas, por mais severamente que a Escritura julgue o caráter do paganismo, é justamente a revelação geral que ela ensina que nos põe em condição e nos dá o direito de reconhecer todos os elementos de verdade que também estão presentes nas religiões pagãs. O estudo das religiões esteve outrora exclusivamente a serviço da dogmática e da apologética: os fundadores de religiões, como Maomé, eram simplesmente tidos por impostores, inimigos de Deus, cúmplices do diabo. Mas, desde que aquelas religiões se tornaram mais exatamente conhecidas, essa explicação mostrou-se insustentável; estava em conflito tanto com a história quanto com a psicologia. Segundo a Sagrada Escritura há também entre os pagãos uma revelação de Deus, uma iluminação do Logos, uma operação do Espírito de Deus (Jó 32.8; Jo 1.9; Rm 2.14; At 14.16,17; 17.22-30). Muitos pais da igreja admitiram uma atividade do Logos no mundo pagão. Agostinho fala repetidas vezes de modo muito desfavorável sobre os pagãos, mas reconhece todavia também que eles viram a verdade em sombra, que a verdade não lhes estava inteiramente oculta e que devemos por isso tirar proveito do que há de verdadeiro na filosofia pagã e apropriá-lo: a imagem de Deus não está na alma humana de tal modo apagada pela mácula dos afetos terrenos que nela não tenham restado como que traços extremos, pelos quais com razão se possa dizer que o homem, mesmo na impiedade de sua vida, faz ou sabe alguma coisa da lei. Tomás diz não só que o homem, como ser racional, pode conhecer sem graça sobrenatural as verdades naturais, mas testifica também que é impossível haver algum conhecimento que seja totalmente falso, sem mistura de alguma verdade: nenhuma doutrina é falsa a ponto de não misturar por vezes algumas verdades às falsidades.

Os reformados estavam em posição ainda melhor por sua doutrina da gratia communis. Por ela ficavam, de um lado, resguardados do erro do pelagianismo, que ensinava a sufficientia da theologia naturalis e ligava a salvação à observância da lex naturae; e, de outro lado, podiam todavia reconhecer tudo o que de verdadeiro, belo e bom havia também no mundo pagão. Ciência, arte, vida moral, doméstica e social eram derivadas dessa gratia communis e com gratidão reconhecidas e louvadas. Habitualmente, porém, essa operação da gratia communis era vista na vida moral e intelectual, social e política, e menos nas religiões; falava-se então apenas de alguma religio naturalis, insita e acquisita, mas a conexão entre esta e as religiões não era demonstrada, e as religiões eram derivadas do engano ou de influências demoníacas. Mas não só na ciência e na arte, na moral e no direito, também nas religiões há a observar uma operação do Espírito de Deus e de sua graça geral. Calvino falou com razão de uma semen religionis, de um sensus divinitatis.

Pois os fundadores de religiões não foram impostores nem instrumentos de Satanás, mas homens que, dispostos religiosamente, tinham uma vocação a cumprir para o seu tempo e para o seu povo, e exerceram influência favorável sobre a vida dos povos. As diversas religiões, por mais misturadas com erro, satisfizeram até certo ponto as necessidades religiosas e concederam consolo na tristeza da vida; não só gritos de desespero, mas também tons de confiança, esperança, resignação, paz, submissão e paciência nos chegam do mundo pagão. Todos os elementos e formas essenciais à religião — conceito de Deus, consciência de culpa, necessidade de redenção, sacrifício, sacerdócio, templo, culto, oração — ocorrem em forma corrompida, mas assim mesmo ocorrem nas religiões pagãs. Aqui e ali não faltam sequer predições inconscientes e expectativas surpreendentes de uma religião melhor e mais pura. Por isso o cristianismo não está diante do paganismo exclusivamente de modo antitético: é também o seu cumprimento. O cristianismo é a religião verdadeira e por isso também a mais alta e a mais pura, é a verdade de todas as religiões. O que no etnicismo é caricatura, aqui é o original vivo; o que ali é aparência, aqui é essência; o que ali se busca, aqui se encontra. O cristianismo é a explicação do etnicismo. Cristo é o Prometido a Israel e o Desejado de todos os pagãos. Israel e a igreja são eleitos em benefício da humanidade: na semente de Abraão são abençoadas todas as famílias da terra.

10. Mas a revelatio generalis tem significação não só para o mundo pagão, mas ainda dentro da religião cristã e para ela. O seu valor, contudo, não está em que ela nos forneça uma theologia ou religio naturalis, uma fé moral racional que se bastasse a si mesma e pudesse dispensar tudo o que na religião é positivo: tal religio naturalis não se encontra em parte alguma e tampouco é viável. Nem é intenção da revelatio generalis que o cristão dela tire o seu primeiro conhecimento acerca de Deus, do mundo e do homem, para depois completá-lo com o conhecimento de Cristo. Ritschl e os seus apresentam a coisa como se o dogmático, nos loci de Deo e de homine, tomasse a matéria apenas da revelatio generalis e só depois, para os loci seguintes, fosse haurir a matéria da Sagrada Escritura; o dogmático estaria primeiro fora e diante da fé cristã, e só com os dogmas posteriores tomaria posição dentro dela. Mas este não foi, ao menos no começo, o método da dogmática da Reforma. Quando o cristão confessa a sua fé em Deus Pai, Todo-poderoso, Criador do céu e da terra, isso é, no pleno sentido, fé cristã. E o dogmático não se despe primeiro dessa sua fé para compilar da revelação geral uma doutrina racional sobre Deus e o homem e completá-la depois com a revelação em Cristo; ele haure o seu conhecimento única e exclusivamente da revelatio specialis, isto é, da Sagrada Escritura. Este é o seu principium unicum. Mas ele não limita essa revelação especial à pessoa de Cristo tal como é pintada em algumas partes da Escritura: toda a revelação resumida na Escritura é uma revelatio specialis que nos vem em Cristo. Cristo é o centro e o conteúdo de toda essa revelação especial, que começa no Paraíso e se completa no Apocalipse.

A revelação especial reconheceu e valorizou a geral, e até a assumiu e como que a assimilou. E assim faz também o cristão, e assim o dogmático. Ele está na fé cristã, na revelatio specialis, e de lá olha também para a natureza e para a história, e ali descobre vestígios do mesmo Deus que em Cristo veio a conhecer como seu Pai. Justamente como cristão, pela fé, ele vê a revelação de Deus na natureza muito melhor e mais claramente do que antes podia percebê-la. O homem psíquico não entende a fala de Deus na natureza e na história; esquadrinha o universo inteiro sem encontrar Deus. Mas o cristão, armado dos óculos da Escritura, vê Deus em tudo e tudo em Deus. Por isso encontramos na Escritura uma poesia da natureza e uma visão da história que em parte alguma se acham. O crente também se orienta assim retamente no mundo com a sua confissão cristã; não é nele um estranho, e não vê ali reinar outro poder senão aquele que também em Cristo invoca como seu Pai. Por essa revelação geral ele se sente em casa no mundo: é a mão paterna de Deus que também na ordem natural lhe traz todas as coisas.

Nessa revelação geral ele tem, além disso, um terreno firme sobre o qual pode encontrar-se com todos os não cristãos. Tem com eles o mesmo fundamento em comum. Por sua fé cristã pode ocupar posição isolada, pode não conseguir provar a outros as suas convicções de fé; na revelação geral tem, contudo, um ponto de contato com todos os que trazem o nome de homem. Assim como a propedêutica clássica lança uma base comum entre todos os homens de ciência, assim a revelação geral mantém todos os homens juntos, apesar de toda diferença de religião. Subjetivamente, no crente o conhecimento de Deus a partir da natureza é posterior ao que vem da Sagrada Escritura: todos nós nascemos numa religião positiva determinada, e só o olho da fé vê Deus na criação — também aqui vale que só os puros de coração veem Deus. Mas objetivamente a natureza precede a graça, a revelatio generalis precede a revelatio specialis: gratia praesupponit naturam. A negação de que a religio e a theologia naturalis sejam suficientes e tenham existência própria e independente em nada tira ao fato de que da criação, da natureza e da história, do coração e da consciência vem a cada homem uma fala de Deus. Ninguém escapa ao poder da revelatio generalis. A religião pertence à essência do homem. A ideia e a existência de Deus, a independência espiritual e o destino eterno do homem, a origem e o fim do mundo, a ordem moral do mundo e o seu triunfo final são problemas que não deixam repouso ao espírito humano. A necessidade metafísica não se deixa suprimir; a filosofia procura sempre de novo satisfazê-la. É a revelatio generalis que mantém viva essa necessidade. Ela impede que o homem se rebaixe a animal; liga-o ao mundo suprassensível; mantém nele a consciência de que foi criado à imagem de Deus e de que não encontra repouso senão em Deus. A revelatio generalis conserva a humanidade, a fim de que e até que ela seja encontrada e restaurada por Cristo. Nessa medida a theologia naturalis foi outrora chamada com razão uma praeambula fidei, uma preparação e educação divina para o cristianismo. A revelação geral é o fundamento sobre o qual a especial se levanta.

E por fim a rica significação da revelação geral vem também a expressar-se nisto: que ela mantém em conexão indissolúvel a natureza e a graça, a criação e a recriação, o mundo da realidade e o mundo dos valores. Sem a revelação geral, a especial perde a sua coerência com todo o ser e a vida do cosmo; falta então o elo que liga um ao outro o reino da natureza e o reino dos céus. Quem, com a filosofia crítica, nega a revelatio generalis faz esforço vão para reconquistar, pela via da razão prática ou da fantasia, o que perdeu; perdeu o ponto de apoio de sua fé. A vida religiosa fica solta ao lado do ser humano ordinário; a imagem de Deus torna-se um donum superadditum; a religião torna-se, como nos socinianos, estranha à natureza humana; o cristianismo torna-se um fenômeno sectário e é privado de sua catolicidade; a graça fica hostil diante da natureza. Consequente com isso é admitir, com os modernos éticos, uma separação radical entre o poder do bem e o poder da natureza: ethos e physis jazem totalmente separados, o mundo da realidade e o dos valores nada têm a ver um com o outro. Em princípio o parsismo, o maniqueísmo é renovado.

Em contraste, a revelatio generalis mantém a unidade da natureza e da graça, do mundo e do reino de Deus, da ordem natural e da moral, da criação e da recriação, da physis e do ethos, da virtude e da felicidade, da santidade e da bem-aventurança, e em tudo isso a unidade do Ser divino. É um só e o mesmo Deus que na revelação geral a ninguém deixa sem testemunho e que na revelação especial se dá a conhecer como Deus de graça. Revelação geral e especial operam assim uma sobre a outra. Deus enviou adiante a natureza como mestra, para em seguida enviar a profecia, a fim de que, discípulo da natureza, tanto mais facilmente creias na profecia (Tertuliano). A natureza precede a graça, a graça aperfeiçoa a natureza; a razão é aperfeiçoada pela fé, a fé pressupõe a natureza.

§ 10. Revelação especial

A. Meios da revelação especial.

1. A história ensina que nenhuma religião se contenta com a revelação geral. Também a religião cristã apela para uma revelação especial; a Escritura é o livro da revelatio specialis. As palavras com que ela exprime o conceito de revelação são sobretudo as que significam descobrir, mostrar-se, aparecer, dar a conhecer, falar; mas principalmente dois verbos, que traduzimos por "revelar" (apokalyptein) e "manifestar" (phaneroun). Não se distinguem, como quis Scholten, como iluminação interior e subjetiva de um lado e aparição exterior e objetiva de outro, pois o primeiro é repetidas vezes usado da revelação objetiva; nem, como quis Neander, de modo que o segundo designe a revelação geral de Deus na natureza e o primeiro a revelação especial da graça, pois o segundo é muitas vezes usado da revelação especial, e o primeiro ocorre em Rm 1 também da revelação geral. Uma diferença constante no uso das duas palavras dificilmente se pode indicar no Novo Testamento. Etimologicamente, porém, "revelar" indica a remoção da cobertura sob a qual um objeto estava escondido, e "manifestar", a publicação de uma coisa que estava oculta ou desconhecida. No primeiro, portanto, o peso recai sobre a remoção do obstáculo que impedia conhecer o que estava escondido, sobre o caráter misterioso daquilo que até agora não era percebido, e sobre o ato divino que removeu essa cobertura e fez entender o mistério. O segundo indica em geral que algo escondido e desconhecido tornou-se agora patente e veio à luz. A revelação remove a causa pela qual algo estava oculto; a manifestação torna patente a coisa mesma. Ligado a isso está que a manifestação é sempre usada da revelação objetiva, e a revelação, tanto da objetiva quanto da subjetiva; que a manifestação designa mais de uma vez a revelação geral e a especial, ao passo que a revelação designa quase sempre a especial. E ambas as palavras distinguem-se ainda de "dar a conhecer" e "declarar", de modo que as duas primeiras fazem as coisas virem à luz, trazem-nas sob a observação, e as duas últimas, em consequência disso, fazem delas também conteúdo de nossa consciência pensante.

A religião cristã concorda, portanto, com todas as religiões históricas em apelar para uma revelação. Mas a concordância vai ainda mais longe, até às formas e aos modos em que a revelação se dá. Todos os meios de revelação se reduzem a três. Em primeiro lugar, a fé religiosa exige um Deus que esteja perto e não longe; esteve por isso, em todos os tempos, convencida da aparição dos deuses sob alguma forma, sob algum sinal, em algum lugar. Lugares santos, tempos santos, imagens santas encontram-se em quase toda religião: os deuses não vivem com os homens em pé de igualdade, e a esfera profana está separada da sagrada, mas eles habitam ainda assim entre os homens em lugares determinados, em objetos particulares, e comunicam sua bênção em tempos determinados. A idolatria, no sentido mais amplo, nasceu da necessidade de um Deus que esteja perto. Em segundo lugar, todas as religiões têm por próprio o crer que os deuses de algum modo revelam seu pensamento e sua vontade, seja por homens que lhes servem de órgãos — adivinhos, oráculos, sonhadores, videntes —, seja artificial e exteriormente pelas estrelas, pelo voo das aves, pelas entranhas da vítima: a mantica, a divinatio. Nunca houve grande homem sem sopro divino, diz Cícero. E, finalmente, em todas as religiões está presente a crença numa intervenção especial e num socorro dos deuses em tempos de necessidade; largamente difundida está a magia, isto é, a arte pela qual o homem, com meios misteriosos, palavras santas, fórmulas, amuletos, poções, põe a serviço de si o poder divino e faz aparecer efeitos maravilhosos. Teofania, mântica e magia são os caminhos pelos quais toda revelação vem ao homem.

Essa crença religiosa geral em aparição, predição e milagre não se explica, em todo caso não exclusivamente, por engano ou por operação demoníaca, nem tampouco por desconhecimento da ordem da natureza: é um elemento necessário em toda religião. A necessidade religiosa busca satisfação; e, onde não a encontra numa revelação real de Deus que venha ao seu encontro, busca-a pelo caminho do culto de invenção própria. Toma a serviço aquelas potências misteriosas no próprio homem ou fora dele na natureza, que podem pô-lo em contato com um mundo sobrenatural. A superstição é a forma bastarda da religião verdadeira, a caricatura da fé. Os fenômenos contemporâneos do espiritismo, da teosofia, da telepatia, do magnetismo, do hipnotismo servem de prova disso, e talvez mostrem também que no chamado lado noturno da natureza humana jazem ocultas potências capazes de explicar suficientemente a crença em tal contato, sem a hipótese de engano intencional. A Sagrada Escritura parece não negar toda realidade a tais fenômenos. Mas a religião do Antigo e do Novo Testamento decididamente nada quer ter em comum com eles. Opõe-se-lhes por princípio: não os reconhece nem os tolera, proíbe-os do modo mais enfático, e profetas e apóstolos protestam contra eles com a maior força, para não serem postos na mesma linha dos adivinhos e feiticeiros pagãos. Pode haver às vezes concordância de forma — por exemplo nas aparições aos patriarcas —, mas há diferença de essência. Teofania, mântica e magia são, como o sacrifício, o templo, o sacerdócio, o culto, elementos essenciais da religião. Ocorrem por isso em todas as religiões, também na de Israel e no cristianismo: também a religião cristã tem seu sacrifício, seu sacerdote, seu templo. A distinção entre o cristianismo e as outras religiões não está em que ali faltem esses elementos necessários, mas nisto: que tudo o que no paganismo ocorre em caricatura tornou-se em Israel sombra e imagem, e aqui tornou-se realidade verdadeira e espiritual. Assim se explica que a religião de Israel de um lado mostre, na forma — circuncisão, sacrifício, tabernáculo, sacerdócio —, tanta concordância com as religiões pagãs, e de outro se distinga delas por princípio, de modo que só de Israel procedeu o Messias.

Essa distinção de princípio está em que, na Sagrada Escritura, a iniciativa na religião não é tomada pelo homem, mas por Deus. Nas religiões pagãs é o homem que busca a Deus; ele tenta de todos os modos fazer Deus descer até si, e arrasta-o para o pó; procura por todos os meios obter poder sobre Deus. Mas na Escritura é sempre Deus quem busca o homem. Ele o cria à sua imagem, chama-o depois da queda, escolhe Abraão, dá a Israel a sua lei, chama e equipa os profetas, envia o seu Filho, separa os apóstolos, julgará um dia os vivos e os mortos. O etnicismo nos ensina a conhecer o homem — em sua inquietação, em sua miséria, em seu descontentamento, e também em suas nobres aspirações —, e cultiva no humanismo o seu fruto mais nobre; mas a Sagrada Escritura nos ensina a conhecer a Deus em seu vir ao homem e buscá-lo, em sua compaixão e graça, em sua justiça e seu amor. Teofania, profecia e milagre são também aqui os meios pelos quais Deus se revela e se dá ao homem.

2. Teofania (angelofania, cristofania). Repetidas vezes se fala na Sagrada Escritura de uma aparição de Deus: ora sem descrição alguma, ora no sonho, ora na visão profética, e mais frequentemente ainda em nuvens de fumaça e de fogo como sinais de sua presença — a Abraão, a Moisés, no Sinai, sobre o povo, sobre o tabernáculo e no santo dos santos. Essas aparições não pressupõem corporeidade em Deus, mas são sinais sensivelmente perceptíveis pelos quais a sua presença se torna conhecível, assim como o Espírito Santo se dá a conhecer no dia de Pentecostes pelo vento e pelo fogo. Não se deve tampouco pensar numa emanação dessa nuvem a partir do Ser divino, mas numa presença de Deus que se revela em formas criaturais. Nesses sinais torna-se manifesta a glória divina, que por isso é também descrita como fogo consumidor e como nuvem.

Mas Deus não aparece somente em sinais impessoais; também em seres pessoais visita o seu povo. Cercado e servido por muitos milhares de anjos, envia-os em forma humana a esta terra, a fim de tornar conhecidas a sua palavra e a sua vontade. Já ocorrem no Gênesis, e serviram também na promulgação da lei, mas são mediadores de revelação especialmente depois do exílio. Ainda mais frequentemente aparecem no Novo Testamento: estão presentes no nascimento de Jesus, repetidas vezes em sua vida, em seu sofrimento, em sua ressurreição e ascensão; ocorrem repetidas vezes na história dos apóstolos; e na sua volta Cristo vem acompanhado dos anjos. Entre todos esses mensageiros de Deus, o Anjo do Senhor ocupa lugar especial: aparece a Agar, a Abraão, a Jacó, a Moisés e no tempo de Moisés. Esse Anjo do Senhor não é um símbolo dependente, nem tampouco um anjo criado, mas revelação e aparição pessoal e adequada de Deus, dele distinta e contudo com ele uma no nome, no poder, na redenção e bênção, na adoração e honra.

Depois da libertação do Egito o Anjo do Senhor se retira. Deus habita entre o seu povo no templo, e para lá se dirige a saudade da alma dos piedosos de Israel. Mas essa teofania é imperfeita. Deus não habita em casa feita por mãos; ao santo dos santos só ao sumo sacerdote era permitido entrar uma vez por ano. A teofania do Antigo Testamento ainda não alcança seu fim e seu alvo. Por isso ainda se espera outra e mais gloriosa vinda de Deus ao seu povo, tanto para livramento quanto para juízo; o Anjo da aliança reaparece na profecia e virá ao seu templo. A teofania atinge o seu cume em Cristo, o anjo, a glória, a imagem, o Verbo, o Filho de Deus, em quem Deus foi plenamente revelado e plenamente dado. Por meio dele e do Espírito que ele envia, a habitação de Deus entre e em seu povo torna-se já agora realidade verdadeira e espiritual: a congregação é a casa de Deus, o templo do Espírito Santo. Mas também essa habitação de Deus na congregação de Cristo ainda não é a última e a mais alta. Ela alcança sua plena realização somente na nova Jerusalém. Então o tabernáculo de Deus estará com os homens, e ele habitará com eles, e eles serão o seu povo, e o próprio Deus estará com eles e será o seu Deus. Verão a sua face, e o seu nome estará em suas frontes.

3. Profecia. Por profecia entendemos aqui a comunicação, por Deus, de seus pensamentos ao homem. Muitas vezes se usa para isso o nome de inspiração; e até certo ponto com mais acerto, na medida em que o conceito de profecia é mais amplo que o de inspiração e inclui também a proclamação desses pensamentos a outros. Mas inspiração é usada especialmente da revelação escrita, e a palavra profecia foi outrora mais de uma vez empregada em nosso sentido. Ela abarca também o receber dos pensamentos de Deus, porque profeta é somente aquele que proclama a palavra de Deus. E faz sobressair melhor que a inspiração a intenção de Deus ao comunicar os seus pensamentos, a saber, que o próprio homem seja profeta, anunciador das suas virtudes. Os pensamentos de Deus assim comunicados podem referir-se ao passado, como nos livros históricos da Escritura, ou ao presente, ou ao futuro. Mas a profecia põe sempre os pensamentos de Deus contra os dos homens, a sua verdade contra a mentira deles, a sua sabedoria contra a insensatez deles.

Essa comunicação dos pensamentos de Deus ao homem pode dar-se, segundo a Escritura, de vários modos. Às vezes o próprio Deus fala de modo audível, em voz e língua humanas. Em muitos lugares Deus é representado como falando, sem descrição do modo em que esse falar se deu, exterior ou interiormente, em sonho ou em visão. O caráter mais íntimo tem esse falar de Deus com Moisés, que não se assusta nem cai por terra quando Deus lhe fala, mas com quem Deus falava boca a boca e convivia como um amigo com o seu amigo. Os judeus falaram mais tarde de uma bath-qol, uma voz celeste pela qual Deus se revelava; mas esta estava abaixo da profecia anterior, e viera depois que o espírito de profecia cessara.

Frequentemente, porém, Deus se prende, na comunicação de seus pensamentos, àquelas formas inferiores sob as quais também entre os pagãos se pensava que os deuses davam a conhecer a sua vontade. Há então, na forma, uma concordância quase completa. Pertencem a isso sobretudo a sorte, o Urim e o Tumim, o sonho e a visão. A sorte foi usada em muitas ocasiões: no grande dia da expiação, na divisão da terra, na decisão de casos difíceis, na eleição para um ofício. O Urim e o Tumim, "luz e direito", não são idênticos às doze pedras preciosas sobre o peitoral do sumo sacerdote, como supôs Josefo e muitos depois dele, mas eram objetos escondidos no peitoral. Mas como davam a conhecer a vontade de Deus — pelo brilho das pedras, por uma voz, por inspiração — e em que consistiam é inteiramente desconhecido. A opinião de que fossem sortes com sim e não recebeu apoio recente no texto de 1 Samuel 14 corrigido segundo os Setenta; mas nesse caso não se explicam bem as respostas que não são de sim e não, e sim de longa descrição e digressão. O Urim e o Tumim pertenciam contudo certamente à mesma categoria de revelação que a sorte; ocorrem especialmente no tempo de Salomão e depois parecem ceder lugar à profecia propriamente dita.

Em seguida, os sonhos ocorrem na Sagrada Escritura como meio de revelação. Por tais foram tidos em toda a antiguidade, e ainda hoje muitos lhes atribuem grande valor. Ora, em todos os tempos se soube que os sonhos são também muito enganosos; também a Sagrada Escritura aponta repetidas vezes para a vaidade dos sonhos e muitas vezes os atribui aos falsos profetas. Mas Deus se serve ainda assim repetidas vezes dos sonhos para dar a conhecer a sua vontade; eles ocorrem entre israelitas, mas também mais de uma vez entre não israelitas, e contêm ou uma palavra, uma comunicação de Deus, ou uma representação da imaginação, que então muitas vezes precisa de explicação.

Com o sonho aparenta-se a visão. Já os nomes com que o profeta é designado — o que vê, o vidente, o que fala por Deus — e os nomes da visão profética indicam provavelmente que a visão não era meio incomum de revelação. Mas essas palavras muitas vezes perderam seu sentido original e são usadas também quando não há mais visão propriamente dita. Visões são repetidas vezes mencionadas e descritas na Escritura, do Gênesis até o Apocalipse. A visão foi muitas vezes acompanhada de certo arrebatamento espiritual. Música, dança e êxtase andam juntos; profecia e poesia são aparentadas. Quando a mão do Senhor cai sobre os profetas, ou o Espírito vem sobre eles, muitas vezes entram em estado de arrebatamento e caem por terra. Nesse estado os pensamentos de Deus lhes são dados a ver ou a ouvir em forma simbólica: em imagens e visões lhes é revelado o seu conselho, especialmente acerca do futuro; ouvem também toda sorte de vozes e sons; são até arrebatados em espírito e transportados. Daniel ficou doente alguns dias depois de receber uma visão.

Contudo, o êxtase em que os recipientes da revelação muitas vezes se encontravam não era um estado em que a consciência estivesse total ou parcialmente suprimida. Tal era, decerto, o estado em que os adivinhos gregos davam seus oráculos, e assim entenderam o êxtase dos profetas Filo, alguns dos pais e, em tempos mais recentes, Hengstenberg. Mas os profetas não recebem visões dormindo, e sim acordados, não só na solidão, mas também na presença de outros. Sob a visão permanecem conscientes de si, veem, ouvem, pensam, falam, perguntam e respondem, e depois se lembram de tudo e o comunicam com exatidão. Por isso a condição psíquica dos profetas sob a visão foi tida pela maioria dos teólogos por uma contemplação espiritual autoconsciente, uma alienatio mentis a sensibus corporis, e não uma alienatio a mente. Só König, para manter a objetividade, acrescentou a isso a opinião singular de que todas as visões eram exteriores, corpóreas e sensivelmente perceptíveis. É verdade que muitas aparições devem ser tidas, segundo a intenção dos escritores, por objetivas; há uma distinção entre teofania e visão. Mas as visões mencionadas acima são certamente interiores e espirituais, e muitas são de tal natureza que não são sensivelmente imagináveis nem perceptíveis. König vai longe demais quando faz depender da exterioridade a objetividade e a verdade da revelação, e não consegue conceber operação alguma do Espírito de Deus no espírito do homem senão pelos sentidos exteriores. Esquece que há também alucinações da vista e do ouvido, e que o exterior como tal ainda não exclui o autoengano: a certeza da revelação não fica suficientemente provada pelo seu caráter exterior.

Como última forma de revelação deve ainda ser mencionada a iluminação interior. Hengstenberg julgou que o êxtase era o estado ordinário em que o profeta se encontrava ao receber revelação. Mas essa opinião foi contestada por muitos e hoje é geralmente rejeitada. O êxtase não é a regra, mas a exceção. A maior parte das revelações aos profetas, também no Antigo Testamento, deu-se sem visão alguma. É certo que para a locução divina ainda se usa muitas vezes a palavra "visão", mas isso ocorre também onde nada é visto. A revelação dá-se então interiormente pelo Espírito, como Espírito de revelação. König, é verdade, afirmou que o Espírito não é princípio de revelação, mas somente de iluminação — isto é, que Javé revela e o Espírito apenas torna subjetivamente receptivo para essa revelação —, e a isso chegou porque também assim queria manter a objetividade e a exterioridade da revelação e ligar o Espírito subjetivo à palavra objetiva de Javé. Mas os textos não podem ser entendidos exclusivamente de uma habilitação formal e subjetiva pelo Espírito; ensinam claramente que os profetas falaram não só pelo Espírito, mas do Espírito, que a profecia procedeu do Espírito neles. Havia também, decerto, uma atividade do Espírito que tornava o profeta subjetivamente capaz, mas não é a única, e não se deve separá-la tão estritamente da outra atividade reveladora como faz König; no seu ponto de vista, em que a revelação é inteiramente externa, ela é aliás desnecessária. E o espírito de mentira de 1 Reis 22 ensina claramente que o Espírito é fonte da palavra. Também a teologia judaica viu no Espírito não só a fonte da iluminação, mas também da revelação e da profecia; e o Novo Testamento declara com igual clareza que os profetas do Antigo falaram do e pelo Espírito de Deus.

Há, contudo, diferença no modo em que o Espírito Santo comunica interiormente a revelação no Antigo e no Novo Testamento. Sob o Antigo, o Espírito Santo desce do alto e momentaneamente sobre alguém: vem sobre os profetas, torna-se ativo sobre eles, cai sobre eles, reveste-os como uma veste; a mão, isto é, o poder do Senhor, os agarra. Diante dessa operação do Espírito os profetas são as mais das vezes passivos: calam-se, caem por terra, ficam consternados e por algum tempo num estado anormal, extático. O Espírito de profecia ainda não é posse permanente dos profetas; há ainda separação e distância entre os dois, e o estado dos profetas ainda se põe à parte diante do povo. Toda a profecia ainda é imperfeita. Por isso ela também olha adiante e espera um profeta sobre quem repousará o Espírito do Senhor; anuncia o cumprimento do desejo de Moisés, de que todo o povo do Senhor fosse profeta; e testemunha de uma futura habitação do Espírito de Deus em todos os filhos do Senhor.

No Novo Testamento aparece o mais alto, o único, o verdadeiro profeta. Como Logos, ele é a revelação plena e acabada de Deus. Não recebe revelação do alto ou de fora, mas é ele mesmo a fonte da profecia. O Espírito Santo não vem sobre ele e não desce sobre ele: habita nele sem medida. Desse Espírito ele é concebido; por esse Espírito fala, age, vive e morre. E esse Espírito ele concede aos seus discípulos, não só como Espírito de regeneração e santificação, mas também como Espírito de revelação e iluminação. Por esse Espírito pessoas particulares ainda são habilitadas para o ofício de profeta, e também a predição propriamente dita não falta no Novo Testamento. Mas todos os crentes participam da unção do Espírito e são ensinados pelo Senhor. Todos são profetas, que proclamam as virtudes do Senhor. A profecia como dom especial será abolida. Na nova Jerusalém o nome de Deus estará na fronte de todos; a mentira ali está completamente excluída.

4. Milagres. Assim como o homem, além de sua aparência e de sua palavra, se dá a conhecer também por seus atos, também Deus se revela não só por suas palavras, mas também por suas obras. Palavra e ato estão em estreita conexão. A palavra de Deus é um ato, e o seu agir é um falar. Ambos, palavra e ato, acompanham-se tanto na criação quanto na recriação. Comumente a palavra precede, como promessa ou como ameaça, mas contém o ato em si como em germe. A sua palavra não volta vazia, mas faz o que lhe apraz. A palavra exige o ato; o milagre acompanha a profecia; não só a consciência, também o ser precisa ser renovado. As palavras com que na Escritura se designam os atos, as obras de Deus, são diversas. Segundo sua aparência exterior são "maravilhas", "prodígios", algo especial, insólito, que se distingue dos acontecimentos ordinários. São chamadas "potências", "obras", "feitos", para designar o grande poder divino que nelas se revela. Especialmente são também chamadas "sinal", porque são prova e sinal da presença de Deus.

Essas obras de Deus hão de ser notadas antes de tudo em sua criação e conservação. Todas as obras de Deus são milagres; também as obras da natureza são muitas vezes designadas na Escritura com o nome de milagres. Disso não se pode, contudo, inferir com Scholten que a Sagrada Escritura não conheça distinção entre natureza e milagre. Certamente não lhe ocorre o pensamento de que um milagre estivesse em conflito com as leis da natureza e fosse por isso impossível: toda a Escritura parte antes da fé de que para Deus nada é maravilhoso demais. Mas por isso não falta a distinção entre a ordem ordinária da natureza e os atos extraordinários de poder de Deus. O Antigo Testamento conhece uma ordem fixa da natureza, ordenanças que valem para o céu e a terra e estão firmadas na determinação do Senhor; e o Novo faz distinção igualmente clara. Os milagres são uma criação, algo novo, que de outro modo nunca se vê. Os fatos que na Sagrada Escritura são mencionados como milagres são também por nós ainda tidos por milagres: sobre a qualificação desses fatos não há diferença. A Escritura reconhece ainda que também fora da revelação podem operar potências insólitas e podem acontecer coisas insólitas — um sinal ou milagre não basta, portanto, em si mesmo para o selo de um profeta. Mas é só o Deus de Israel quem faz milagres. Ora ele os realiza diretamente, ora se serve de homens ou de anjos; mas é sempre Deus quem os faz. Neles se manifesta o seu poder; é o Espírito do Senhor quem os opera.

Os milagres têm seu início e seu fundamento na criação e na conservação de todas as coisas, que é obra e milagre contínuo de Deus. Tudo o que acontece tem seu fundamento último na vontade e no poder de Deus. Nada lhe pode resistir. Ele faz com o exército do céu segundo o seu beneplácito. Esse poder e essa liberdade de Deus são proclamados pela natureza, mas vêm à expressão especialmente na história do seu povo. Nessa história ocorrem sobretudo os milagres. Eles se dão com propósitos diversos. Ora para castigar os ímpios; ora para salvar e livrar o povo de Deus, para trazer salvação e cura, como as pragas do Egito, a passagem pelo mar Vermelho, os milagres no deserto, as curas de Jesus. Mais de uma vez têm também a intenção direta ou indireta de confirmar a missão dos profetas, a verdade da sua palavra e assim a fé no seu testemunho. Profecia e dom de milagres andam juntos. Todos os profetas e também os apóstolos têm a consciência de poder fazer milagres. Moisés foi grande também em seus milagres, e o seu pecado consistiu uma vez em duvidar do poder milagroso de Deus. Em torno de Elias e Eliseu agrupa-se um ciclo de milagres. Nos profetas posteriores os milagres já não ocupam lugar tão grande; muitas vezes eles se servem das chamadas ações simbólicas, a fim de com isso confirmar a sua profecia e, por assim dizer, realizá-la inicialmente. Mas ainda assim também deles se narram milagres, e eles têm a convicção de poder fazê-los.

Mas todos esses milagres do Antigo Testamento não efetuaram uma elevação, uma renovação da natureza. Tiveram o seu efeito: castigaram e abençoaram alternadamente a humanidade e em todo caso a preservaram da destruição; criaram em Israel um povo distinto, livraram-no da servidão do Egito, preservaram-no de fundir-se com os gentios e, como povo de Deus, protegeram-no contra o poder opressor da natureza. Mas foram momentâneos, passaram, diminuíram em efeito e foram esquecidos. A vida seguiu o seu curso costumeiro. A natureza parecia triunfar. Então a profecia ergueu a voz e disse que Israel não podia perecer e dissolver-se na vida natural dos gentios. Deus virá de novo e em maior glória ao seu povo. Deus não esquecerá a sua aliança; ela é aliança eterna. Com essa vinda de Deus o tempo antigo passa ao novo. Esse é o ponto de viragem na história do mundo. É o Dia do Senhor, em que ele revelará a sua glória e desdobrará o seu poder milagroso. Deus dá então sinais prodigiosos no céu; toda a natureza, céu e terra, será abalada. O juízo passará sobre os ímpios, mas também purificará e libertará. Deus salvará o seu povo pelos seus milagres, fará coisa nova sobre a terra, trará Israel de volta da morte e o fará participar de uma plenitude de bens espirituais e materiais: perdão dos pecados, santidade, uma nova aliança, mas também paz, segurança, prosperidade. Até a natureza se mudará em paraíso. Vem um novo céu e uma nova terra, e das coisas antigas não haverá mais memória.

Esse Dia do Senhor, esse "século vindouro" em contraste com o "século presente", começou, segundo a representação da Escritura, com o Novo Testamento. A vinda de Cristo é o ponto de viragem dos tempos. Um novo ciclo de milagres se agrupa em torno de sua pessoa. Ele mesmo é o milagre absoluto, descido do alto e contudo homem verdadeiro e perfeito. Nele, em princípio, a criação foi restaurada, reerguida de sua queda à sua glória anterior. Os seus milagres são sinais da presença de Deus, prova do tempo messiânico, parte da sua obra messiânica. Em Cristo aparece um poder divino mais forte que toda potência corruptora e devastadora do pecado. Esse poder ele ataca não só na periferia, curando doenças e enfermidades e fazendo toda sorte de milagres, mas penetra até o seu centro, quebra-o e o vence. Sua encarnação e satisfação, sua ressurreição e ascensão são os grandes atos de livramento de Deus. São a restauração de princípio do reino da glória. Esses fatos da salvação não são apenas meios para revelar alguma coisa: são eles mesmos a revelação de Deus. O milagre torna-se aqui história, e a história é ela mesma um milagre. A pessoa e a obra de Cristo são a revelação central de Deus; toda outra revelação se agrupa em torno dela.

Mas também depois da partida de Jesus o seu poder milagroso continua nos discípulos; e não só nos Atos se narram muitos milagres, como também Paulo dá testemunho desse poder milagroso dos apóstolos. Por algum tempo esse poder ainda continua na congregação. Mas cessou quando o cristianismo se estabeleceu e a igreja é o objeto em que Deus glorifica os milagres da sua graça. Os milagres espirituais são aqueles em que Deus revela agora o seu poder e a sua glória. Contudo a Escritura aponta para um futuro em que o milagre de novo fará a sua obra. O século vindouro só se completa no novo céu e na nova terra, em que habita a justiça. Então o milagre se tornou natureza. Ethos e physis estão reconciliados. O reino de Deus e o reino do mundo são um só.

B. Conceito de revelação especial.

5. O sistema de revelação que a Escritura nos dá a conhecer foi por demais desconhecido e negligenciado na teologia cristã. Só em tempos mais recentes o conceito e a essência da revelação se tornaram objeto de investigação mais profunda. Antes não se sentia necessidade disso. Entre cristãos e pagãos a possibilidade da revelação não estava em disputa; a luta era apenas sobre a verdade daquela revelação que se ensina no Antigo e no Novo Testamento, e isso os apologetas defenderam por toda sorte de razões contra os ataques sobretudo de Celso e de Porfírio. De resto, os pensamentos sobre a revelação reduziam-se a este esquema: Deus só pode ser conhecido por Deus; todo conhecimento e serviço de Deus repousa, portanto, em revelação da parte dele; mas a revelação de Deus na natureza e na história é insuficiente; é necessária, por isso, uma revelação especial, que atinge seu ápice em Cristo. Os teólogos seguintes, especialmente também os escolásticos, empregaram todo cuidado em determinar e descrever a relação entre natureza e revelação, saber e crer, filosofia e teologia, mas não pensaram a fundo o conceito de revelação e o tocaram apenas de passagem. Também os teólogos protestantes dedicaram atenção pequena demais a esse conceito: identificaram imediatamente revelação com Sagrada Escritura e não escaparam de todo à concepção abstrato-supranaturalista e unilateralmente intelectualista que dela se fora formando na teologia. O socinianismo levou esse conceito sobrenatural e intelectual ao extremo, e o remonstrantismo tinha essencialmente a mesma representação. Entre racionalismo e supranaturalismo não havia diferença quanto ao conceito de revelação: para ambos ela consistia numa comunicação externa de doutrina. Não era de admirar, e era também plenamente merecido, que tal conceito de revelação não pudesse resistir à crítica do deísmo e do racionalismo. Que valor religioso tinha uma revelação que nada dava senão algumas verdades intelectuais, que talvez mais tarde ainda fossem encontradas pela própria razão? Verificou-se, contudo, que se acertara contas depressa demais com o conceito de revelação. Religião e revelação mostraram, sob investigação histórica e filosófica mais profunda, afinidade muito mais estreita do que antes se supunha. Assim o conceito de revelação voltou a ser mais honrado na teologia e na filosofia mais recentes, e várias tentativas de reconstrução foram feitas.

Hamann, Claudius, Lavater, Herder, Jacobi e outros apontaram para a afinidade entre religião e arte e puseram a revelação em conexão com a inspiração genial. O conceito de revelação foi assim alargado, de modo que tudo se tornou revelação: religião, poesia, filosofia, história, língua são expressões diferentes de uma só e mesma vida original. E no meio de todas essas revelações está Cristo; para ele tudo aponta, em torno dele tudo se agrupa. Também Schleiermacher rejeitou decididamente a doutrina racionalista da revelação. Não buscou a peculiaridade dela no caráter mais ou menos sobrenatural que porta, mas no que há de novo e original com que uma pessoa ou um acontecimento aparece na história. A revelação é, portanto, aparentada à inspiração poética e heroica, e consiste de fato em despertar afecções novas e originais do sentimento religioso. Por Schleiermacher foi preparada aquela concepção de revelação que põe a sua existência não na comunicação de doutrina, mas de vida. Rothe, concebendo a revelação como inspiração, tem o mesmo pensamento, mas admite com isso, como elemento constitutivo da revelação, ainda uma manifestação externa e histórica, para que a revelação interna, a inspiração, não seja mágica e mecânica. As peculiaridades do conceito de revelação entre os teólogos que mais ou menos se ligam a Schleiermacher consistem então especialmente nisto: a revelação deve ser distinguida da teopneustia, da Sagrada Escritura; a Escritura não é a revelação, mas o seu documento; a revelação é um conceito religioso, mais precisamente ainda soteriológico, aparentado à inspiração genial, poética, heroica, mas não idêntico a ela; é o correlato somente da religião; procedendo de Deus como Redentor, não tem por conteúdo doutrina alguma sobre coisas físicas, históricas e metafísicas, mas somente verdade religioso-ética; é comunicação de vida, autocomunicação de Deus; não é sobrenatural em sentido estrito, mas genuinamente natural e humana; e finalmente não é só externa (manifestação), mas também interna e espiritual (inspiração).

Mas não só Schleiermacher e a sua escola trouxeram o conceito de revelação a nova vida; também Schelling e Hegel tentaram o mesmo, ao seu modo. Por eles o racionalismo adquiriu caráter especulativo. Não procuraram destruir a revelação cristã por uma crítica do entendimento, mas buscaram especulativamente rastrear a ideia profunda que jazia no fundamento dela e de todos os dogmas cristãos, pondo-se assim, como racionalismo especulativo, contra o racionalismo vulgar dos tempos anteriores. Segundo Schelling, em seu primeiro período, o mundo inteiro era a autorrevelação de Deus. A natureza é o espírito visível, o espírito, a natureza invisível. A essência de Deus torna-se conhecível ao homem a partir do todo da natureza, especialmente porém a partir do desenvolvimento do espírito humano na arte, na religião e na ciência. E assim ensinou também Hegel que Deus não se revela ao homem por um acontecimento transitório no tempo, mas se revela no próprio homem e nele se torna consciente de si; e esse tornar-se consciente de si de Deus no homem é o conhecimento que o homem tem de Deus, é a religião. A revelação em Hegel é, portanto, idêntica à autorrevelação necessária, ao tornar-se consciente de si do Absoluto no espírito humano; a história das religiões é a história do vir-a-si do Absoluto na consciência humana e atinge o seu ápice no cristianismo, que exprime a unidade de Deus e do homem. A esse pensamento sobre a revelação como autocomunicação de Deus a todo e qualquer homem liga-se, no essencial, a concepção de revelação que encontramos em muitos teólogos e filósofos da mesma linha. Comum a eles é a negação do caráter sobrenatural da revelação, mas de resto há grande diferença quanto ao conteúdo, à extensão e ao modo. De ambos os grupos distingue-se ainda o conceito de revelação na escola de Ritschl. A peculiaridade dessa concepção está em que se atribui muito pouco valor à distinção entre revelação natural e sobrenatural, em que se põe o acento no caráter positivo de toda religião e no que há de histórico e externo na revelação, e em que, para o cristianismo, essa revelação histórica é encontrada especialmente, ou mesmo exclusivamente, na pessoa de Cristo.

Uma compreensão clara e lúcida da revelação ainda falta na dogmática. Entre os teólogos há desacordo sobre tudo o que entra em consideração nesse conceito. Talvez se possa traçar uma fronteira entre os que admitem uma revelação sobrenatural e os que admitem somente uma revelação natural. Mas mesmo então surge a questão: o caráter sobrenatural da revelação está no modo pelo qual ela chegou até nós, ou no caráter novo e original do conteúdo, como quer Schleiermacher? Em que, ainda, se distingue a revelação sobrenatural da revelação natural na natureza e na história, especialmente daquela inspiração religiosa, poética e heroica que também se encontra fora do cristianismo e que tantas vezes foi posta em conexão com a revelação cristã? Onde, em seguida, se há de encontrar essa revelação sobrenatural: também nas religiões dos pagãos, ou só em Israel, ou mesmo exclusivamente na pessoa de Cristo? Até onde se estende ela depois de Cristo — limita-se a ele, ou também a operação do Espírito Santo na regeneração e na conversão ainda se há de contar sob o conceito de revelação? Seu conteúdo é em primeiro lugar conhecimento, de modo que ilumine o entendimento, ou é sobretudo místico por natureza, uma operação sobre a disposição, um despertar de sentimento? Na revelação, é o externo, o histórico, a manifestação — seja na natureza, seja na história, seja especificamente como milagre — o principal, ou está o centro de gravidade no sujeito, na autorrevelação do Espírito absoluto, de Deus, ao homem?

6. A revelação que a Escritura nos dá a conhecer não consiste em algumas palavras e fatos desconexos, mas é um todo histórico e orgânico, um poderoso sistema de atos de Deus que governa e renova o mundo. Ela aparece, como vimos, em três formas: teofania, profecia e milagre. Mas essas três não estão isoladas lado a lado; formam um todo e visam juntas a um só alvo. Já pela revelatio generalis Deus não se deixa sem testemunho diante do homem: revela-se na natureza e na história, fala no coração e na consciência, opera milagres de poder. Também a revelatio generalis pode chamar-se revelação, pois, em sentido amplo, revelação é toda ação que procede de Deus a fim de pôr o homem em relação religiosa com ele. Mas pelo pecado torna-se necessária outra revelação, que decerto está em múltipla conexão com a revelatio generalis, mas que dela é essencialmente distinta em forma e conteúdo. Ela se dirige, afinal, ao homem caído, e deve por isso ser revelação de graça.

A revelatio specialis é o buscar de Deus e o vir de Deus ao homem. Ele deve agora revelar-se e falar e operar de tal modo que o homem seja de novo renovado segundo a sua imagem. Por isso Deus vem ao homem de modo humano. A encarnação é o fato central na revelatio specialis, e espalha luz sobre todo o seu domínio. Já na criação Deus se faz semelhante aos homens; mas na recriação ele se faz homem e entra na nossa condição. E essa encarnação, que é o conteúdo próprio da revelatio specialis, já em certo sentido começa imediatamente depois da queda. A revelação especial de Deus entra na história e forma uma história, que atravessa os séculos. Ela assume esse caráter histórico porque a própria humanidade, a quem se dirige, só existe em forma histórica. Partilha a sua vida, segue-a em seus cursos, atravessa com ela os tempos até o fim. Estende-se fundo para trás, até a vida da criação, prende-se à providência e faz sua luz brilhar através do prisma de pessoas, condições e acontecimentos humanos. Serve-se de todo caráter e individualidade, de toda disposição e dom dados na criação. Envolve-se nas formas do tipo e da sombra, da imagem e do símbolo, da arte e da poesia, da carta e da crônica. Na religião toma para si os usos que se encontram em outras religiões, como a circuncisão e o sacrifício, o templo e o sacerdócio. Nem sequer considera insignificantes demais a sorte, o sonho e a visão para deles se servir como instrumento. Tão fundo desce o divino no humano, que as fronteiras entre revelação e pseudorreligião parecem apagar-se: fala divina e oráculo, profecia e mântica, milagre e magia parecem aproximar-se.

E contudo é outro o coração que bate na religião de Israel. A visão periférica e atomística apela para tais fatos de concordância entre a religião da Escritura e as religiões dos povos, mas não explica a revelação em seu caráter e em sua significação, e ao fim não sabe o que fazer com a Escritura. Por isso essa visão deve ceder à central e orgânica, que a partir do centro faz a luz irradiar até a periferia mais extrema. E esse centro é a encarnação de Deus. Ele é aquele que na revelatio specialis desce e se faz semelhante aos homens. O sujeito da revelação especial é, em sentido próprio, o Logos, o Anjo do Senhor, o Cristo. Ele é o mediador da criação, mas também da recriação. Ele é o sujeito da revelação já no Antigo Testamento, o anjo da aliança que conduziu Israel, o conteúdo da profecia. Por teofania, profecia e milagre ele prepara a sua vinda em carne. A revelação do Antigo Testamento é a história do Cristo que vem. Teofania, profecia e milagre desembocam nele; em Cristo eles coincidem. Ele é a revelação, a palavra, o poder de Deus. Ele nos mostra o Pai, declara-nos o seu nome, cumpre a sua obra. A encarnação é a conclusão, o alvo e o fim tanto da história de Israel quanto, ao mesmo tempo, o centro de toda a história: até aqui e a partir daqui corre a história.

Quando a revelação de Deus em Cristo, em sua pessoa e obra, apareceu e foi descrita na Escritura, entra outra dispensação. O Espírito Santo veio habitar na igreja, e com isso mudou o caráter dos tempos: o século presente passou ao século vindouro. Assim como no primeiro período tudo era preparado para Cristo, agora tudo dele é derivado. Então Cristo era formado em cabeça da igreja; agora a igreja é formada em corpo de Cristo. Então a Palavra, a Sagrada Escritura, era completada; agora ela é desdobrada. Mas também essa dispensação tem lugar no sistema da revelação. A revelação continuou, ainda que modificada segundo a natureza da dispensação. A revelação, enquanto visava e produzia o Cristo, chegou ao seu fim: Cristo está aí, a sua obra está cumprida, a sua palavra está completa. Novos elementos constitutivos da revelatio specialis já não podem ser acrescentados. É, portanto, também de importância subordinada a questão de saber se na igreja cristã ainda continuam o dom de profecia e o de milagres. Os testemunhos dos pais são tão numerosos e fortes que, para os tempos mais antigos, essa questão dificilmente pode ser respondida negativamente. Mas, ainda que aqueles dons tenham permanecido, o conteúdo daquela revelatio specialis que se concentra em Cristo e foi depositada na Escritura não se torna com isso mais rico; e, se eles diminuíram e cessaram, como pensou Agostinho, aquela revelação não se torna com isso mais pobre. Seja como for, a revelatio specialis em Cristo continua em certo sentido nesta dispensação. Ainda que toda profecia na igreja cristã tenha cessado e todo milagre em sentido próprio esteja passado, a própria igreja é, de momento a momento, produto da revelação. Os milagres espirituais continuam: a graça de Deus em Cristo glorifica-se na iluminação e na regeneração, na fé e na conversão, na santificação e na preservação. Cristo é mediador; é pela igreja que se trata dele; ele veio renovar o mundo e recriar a humanidade segundo a imagem de Deus. A revelatio specialis encontra o seu alvo em produzir uma nova ordem de coisas. E por isso continua, em forma modificada, isto é, em sentido espiritual, ainda agora. Seu ponto de repouso só o encontra na epifania de Cristo, no novo céu e na nova terra, em que habita a justiça.

A revelação, segundo a Escritura, é portanto um processo histórico, um sistema orgânico, uma ação divina contínua para quebrar o poder do pecado, para estabelecer o seu reino, para restaurar o cosmos, para a recapitulação de todas as coisas em Cristo. Na teofania Deus põe-se de novo como o único e verdadeiro Deus contra os ídolos do enfeite próprio do homem; na profecia põe o seu pensamento como a verdade contra a mentira de Satanás; e no milagre desdobra o seu poder divino contra todas as obras da injustiça. Na revelação Deus põe e mantém o seu Eu contra todo não-Eu, e o leva, apesar de toda oposição, ao reconhecimento geral e ao triunfo completo. Soteriológica, portanto, é toda a revelação. Ela procede de Cristo, tanto no Antigo quanto no Novo Testamento. Mas soteriológica então entendida no sentido da Escritura, não em sentido religioso-ético, como se a revelação contivesse apenas verdade religiosa e ética; e ainda muito menos em sentido intelectual, como se a revelação consistisse apenas em doutrina. Soteriológica em sentido escriturístico, a saber, de tal modo que o conteúdo da revelação não é doutrina, nem vida, nem emoção do ânimo, mas tudo isso junto: uma obra divina, um mundo de pensamentos e de atos, uma ordo gratiae que combate e vence a ordo peccati em todo terreno. O alvo da revelação não é somente ensinar o homem e iluminar-lhe o entendimento (racionalismo), levá-lo a praticar a virtude (moralismo), cultivar nele emoções religiosas (misticismo). O propósito de Deus com a sua revelação vai muito mais longe e mais largo: não é outro senão arrancar o homem, a humanidade, o mundo ao poder do pecado, e fazer o Nome de Deus resplandecer de novo em toda criatura. O pecado corrompeu e destruiu tudo, entendimento e vontade, mundo ético e físico. E por isso é também o homem inteiro e o cosmos inteiro que a Deus importam, com a sua revelação, para a salvação e a restauração. Soteriológica, muito certamente, é a revelação de Deus; mas o objeto dessa salvação é o cosmos, e não só o ético ou a vontade com exclusão do entendimento, nem só o psíquico com exclusão do somático e do físico, mas tudo junto. Pois Deus encerrou a todos sob o pecado, para de todos ter misericórdia.

C. Revelação especial e supranaturalismo.

7. Essa concepção orgânica da revelação foi desconhecida na igreja cristã de duas maneiras: pelo supranaturalismo e pelo naturalismo (racionalismo). Contra ambos, portanto, precisa ser posta em luz mais clara e mantida. Primeiro contra o supranaturalismo, que surgiu especialmente em Roma e depois continua a produzir efeitos em várias direções dentro do protestantismo. A Escritura conhece, de fato, uma distinção entre o curso ordinário das coisas e as obras extraordinárias de Deus, mas não faz ainda a antítese entre natural e sobrenatural. Esta ocorre primeiro nos pais da igreja, com os quais a revelação especial é identificada com o sobrenatural e posta contra o natural: Clemente de Alexandria já fala de uma contemplação "acima da natureza", que se obtém pela fé. Desde então a distinção entre natural e sobrenatural encontrou aceitação e obteve cidadania em toda a teologia cristã.

Sem dúvida essa distinção tem também direito de existir. Pode ser que a Escritura não a faça com todas as letras; ela reconhece, contudo, uma ordem ordinária da natureza e, ao lado dela, atos e obras que têm a sua causa somente no poder de Deus. A revelação na Sagrada Escritura pressupõe que há ainda outro mundo, mais alto e melhor que esta natureza, e que há portanto uma ordo rerum supra hanc naturam. Os conceitos de natural e sobrenatural precisam, por isso, ser claramente definidos. Natureza, de nasci, nascer, designa em geral aquilo que, sem poder ou influência estranha vinda de fora, se desenvolve somente segundo suas forças e leis internas. Nesse sentido a natureza opõe-se até à arte, à educação, à cultura, à história, que não surgem de si mesmas, espontaneamente, mas vêm a ser pela ação humana. Mas o conceito de natureza estende-se ainda a todo o cosmos, na medida em que este se move e se desenvolve não de fora, mas de dentro, por forças imanentes e segundo as leis nele implantadas. Sobrenatural é então tudo o que ultrapassa as forças da natura creata e não tem sua causa nas criaturas, mas na onipotência de Deus. Nesse sentido a revelação especial foi concebida na teologia cristã: tomada como um todo, teve a sua origem num ato especial de Deus, que se revelara não no curso ordinário da natureza, mas numa ordem de coisas própria, dela distinta. Além disso distinguiu-se ainda entre o sobrenatural em sentido absoluto, como aquilo que ultrapassa o poder de todas as criaturas, e o sobrenatural em sentido relativo, como aquilo que ultrapassa o poder de uma causa determinada nas circunstâncias dadas; e ainda entre o supernaturale quoad substantiam, quando o próprio fato é sobrenatural, como a ressurreição de um morto, e o supernaturale quoad modum, quando só o modo de agir é sobrenatural, como a cura de um doente sem meios.

Nessas distinções ainda não havia em si perigo algum. Antes, elas devem ser defendidas contra uma filosofia que nega ou enfraquece o sobrenatural. Com efeito, a expressão "sobrenatural" foi na teologia e na filosofia posteriores muitas vezes entendida em sentido bastante alterado, e alternadamente identificada com o suprassensível (Kant), o livre (Fichte), o desconhecido (Spinoza), o novo e original (Schleiermacher), o religioso-ético, o espiritual. Mas tal alteração do sentido fixo e claro de uma palavra conduz a mal-entendidos. Se por sobrenatural não se entende outra coisa senão o suprassensível ou o ético, faz-se melhor em evitar o termo. E a confusão torna-se ainda maior quando se misturam o natural e o sobrenatural e se dá a essa fusão o nome de "espírito-corpóreo" ou "divino-humano". O conceito de natureza abarca tudo o que é criado: não só a matéria, mas também a alma e o espírito; não só o físico, mas também o psíquico, a vida religiosa e ética na medida em que ela nasce por si da disposição humana; não só as coisas visíveis, mas também as invisíveis e suprassensíveis. O sobrenatural não é idêntico ao original, ao genial, ao livre, ao religioso, ao ético, mas é o nome claro e fixo somente daquilo que não se pode explicar pelas forças e segundo as leis das coisas criadas. Até aqui a distinção entre natural e sobrenatural, surgida na teologia cristã, é inteiramente correta, precisa, clara e corta toda confusão. A revelação especial, em suas três formas de teofania, profecia e milagre, é sobrenatural em sentido estrito.

Mas na teologia cristã o conceito do sobrenatural foi aos poucos delimitado ainda mais estreitamente. De um lado foi distinguido da criação, de outro dos milagres espirituais da regeneração. A primeira distinção fez-se porque o sobrenatural não existe para Deus, mas somente para nós, e pressupõe a ordem ordinária chamada à existência pela criação: do sobrenatural só se pode falar quando a natureza já existe de antemão. E, de outro lado, a regeneração, o perdão, a santificação, a unio mystica foram sim tidos por atos diretos de Deus, mas não foram contados à revelação sobrenatural, porque não são insólitos e raros, mas pertencem na igreja à ordo rerum ordinária. A própria igreja é sobrenatural, mas não é um milagre. O sobrenatural e o milagre distinguem-se de novo: nem tudo o que é sobrenatural é milagre, mas o inverso vale. Os milagres não são somente sobrenaturais, mas além disso acontecimentos insólitos e raros na natureza ou na graça. Ocorrem não só praeter ordinem naturae alicujus particularis, mas praeter ordinem totius naturae creatae. Anjos e demônios não podem em sentido próprio fazer milagres, mas somente coisas que nos parecem milagrosas. Tomás fala de milagres não só praeter e supra, mas também contra naturam; e Voetius dizia que os milagres decerto não são contra naturam universalem, sed supra et praeter eam, mas que podiam às vezes ser também contra alguma natureza particular. E assim os milagres tinham as seguintes notas: obra imediata de Deus, acima de toda natureza, caindo sob os sentidos, rara, para confirmação da verdade.

Por muito de bom que haja nessas determinações e distinções da escolástica, elas trouxeram consigo não pequeno perigo. A revelação especial foi de um lado desprendida da criação e da natureza; ainda que se reconhecesse que a revelação sobrenatural tivera lugar não só agora, mas já antes da queda, e que em si mesma não podia portanto estar em conflito com a natureza, isso não foi pensado a fundo. De outro lado a revelação especial foi posta contra os milagres espirituais, as obras da graça que continuamente se dão na igreja de Cristo, e assim foi isolada da recriação e da graça. A revelação especial passou assim a estar inteiramente por si, sem conexão com a natureza e a história. Seu caráter histórico e orgânico foi desconhecido. Ela não entrava no mundo e na humanidade, mas ficava a flutuar fora e acima deles. Foi finalmente concebida como uma doutrina, como proclamação de mistérios incompreendidos e incompreensíveis, cuja verdade era confirmada pelos milagres. Foi e permaneceu, numa palavra, um donum superadditum do cosmos.

8. Em Roma esse sistema supranaturalista e dualista foi consequentemente elaborado. Em Deus há duas concepções do homem, de sua natureza e de seu destino. O homem in puris naturalibus, sem a imagem de Deus, tal como de fato ainda é depois da queda, pode ter um conhecimento puro de Deus a partir de suas obras, pode servi-lo e temê-lo e estar com ele numa relação normal e em si boa de servo, pode praticar todas as virtudes naturais, inclusive o amor natural a Deus, e pode assim chegar a certo estado de felicidade nesta vida e na futura. Se não chega tão longe, a culpa é sua, e isso se atribui ao não uso ou ao mau uso das forças naturais que lhe foram dadas. Mas Deus quer dar ainda ao homem um destino mais alto, sobrenatural, celeste. Para isso ele deve conceder ao homem dona superaddita, tanto antes quanto agora depois da queda: deve outorgar-lhe uma graça sobrenatural, pela qual possa conhecer e amar a Deus de outro modo, melhor e mais alto, possa praticar virtudes melhores e mais altas e alcançar um destino mais alto. Esse conhecimento mais alto consiste na fides; esse amor mais alto, na caritas; essas virtudes mais altas são as teologais — fé, esperança e amor —, essencialmente distintas das virtutes cardinales; e esse destino mais alto consiste na filiação divina, no nascimento de Deus, na unio mystica, na comunhão da natureza divina, na deificatio, na visio Dei. Essa doutrina já está preparada em alguns dizeres dos pais, mas foi primeiro desenvolvida pela escolástica; na luta contra Baio e Jansênio foi eclesiasticamente estabelecida, e pelo Vaticano expressamente pronunciada: a revelação deve ser dita absolutamente necessária, porque Deus, por sua infinita bondade, ordenou o homem a um fim sobrenatural, a saber, à participação de bens divinos que ultrapassam a inteligência da mente humana.

Ora, deve-se reconhecer que a distinção entre a condição antes e depois da queda não está na revelação em si mesma. Houve revelação sobrenatural também no paraíso; ela não se tornou, portanto, necessária primeiro pelo pecado. Aliás, mesmo no status integritatis houve também uma revelação de graça, pois já então a relação de amor em que Deus se pôs para com o homem era manifestação de bondade imerecida. O que se tornou necessário pelo pecado não é, pois, a revelação em si, mas o conteúdo determinado da revelação, isto é, a gratia specialis, a revelação de Deus em Cristo, a encarnação de Deus. Revelação de Deus era necessária também para a religião no status integritatis. Mas a religio christiana funda-se numa revelação particular e determinada. É isso que Paulo tem em vista quando fala da sabedoria de Deus que sempre esteve oculta e não subiu ao coração do homem. Roma não pode realmente negá-lo, a não ser que aceitasse a doutrina de que, suposto que Deus quisesse dar ao homem um finis supernaturalis, toda a ordem sobrenatural que agora existe — a encarnação, a igreja, os sacramentos — teria sido necessária também sem o pecado e à parte dele. Com isso, porém, o caráter soteriológico da revelação se perderia inteiramente, a queda perderia a sua significação, e o pecado não teria produzido mudança alguma. A doutrina do finis supernaturalis sempre encontrou, por isso, muita oposição na igreja romana, com Baio, Jansênio, Hermes, Günther; mas ela está estreitamente ligada a todo o sistema romano, que se edifica não sobre a antítese religiosa de pecado e graça, mas sobre a distinção de grau no bem, sobre a hierarquia das criaturas e das virtudes, em sentido físico e ético.

A Reforma, porém, tinha uma só ideia, uma só concepção do homem, a saber, a de portador da imagem de Deus, e isso valia para todos os homens. Se essa imagem, em sentido estrito, se perde, então com isso toda a natureza humana fica danificada, e o homem já não pode ter religião nem ética alguma que correspondam à exigência de Deus e à sua própria ideia. Então a sua religião e a sua virtude, por belas que pareçam, estão corrompidas na raiz. Não há religio naturalis; todas as religiões tornaram-se superstições. Mas por isso a religio christiana é também essencialmente uma com a religio vera do status integritatis. Os reformados levaram isso tão longe que disseram que também Adão tivera o conhecimento da Trindade e a fé, que já então o Logos fora mediador, não reconciliationis mas unionis, que já então o Espírito Santo era o autor de toda virtude e força. O pensamento verdadeiro nisso era que a vontade de Deus não é arbítrio, que alternadamente forma para si ora esta, ora aquela ideia do homem; que a concepção do homem, a natureza da imagem de Deus e portanto também a religio devem ser uma só. E daí seguiu-se finalmente que a revelação era necessária não absoluta, mas relativamente, não quoad substantiam, mas quoad modum. A religio é uma antes e depois da queda; que ela, porém, seja christiana, isso se tornou necessário pelo pecado. A religio christiana é um meio, não um fim; Cristo é mediador, mas o fim é Deus tudo em todos.

Com isso está dado ainda que a revelação não pode estar absolutamente contra a natureza. Em Roma há uma antítese quantitativa: a religio naturalis é essencialmente diferente da religio supernaturalis; ambas estão lado a lado, são duas concepções inteiramente distintas, dois sistemas e ordens totalmente separados, e a ordo gratiae eleva-se muito acima da ordo naturae. Mas a Reforma converteu essa antítese quantitativa numa qualitativa. A revelação não está contra a natureza, mas contra o pecado. Esse é o poder que a revelação busca quebrar; a natureza ela restaura e completa. A própria criação já é revelação. Houve revelação antes da queda. Há revelação também agora em todas as obras das mãos de Deus na natureza e na história: o seu eterno poder e divindade são entendidos e percebidos pelas criaturas. Analogias da profecia e do milagre existem também fora da revelatio specialis. A inspiração de heróis e artistas, as forças maravilhosas que às vezes vêm à luz, podem servir para esclarecimento e confirmação dos fatos de revelação mencionados na Escritura. Até a mântica e a magia nas religiões pagãs são fenômenos que, como caricatura, ainda mostram semelhança com a imagem original na revelação. Sim, a própria revelação por assim dizer se estende para trás, para dentro da natureza, prende-se a ela e nela se prepara. A gratia communis aponta para a gratia specialis, e esta toma aquela a seu serviço. Natura commendat gratiam, gratia emendat naturam. Até a própria criação está edificada segundo as linhas da redenção.

D. Revelação especial e naturalismo.

9. O combate de princípio à revelação só começou na filosofia moderna. Spinoza ainda retém a palavra revelação e até a julga necessária, mas por ela não entende senão que os simples não podem encontrar a verdadeira religião, a palavra de Deus, pela luz da razão, mas devem aceitá-la por autoridade. De resto Spinoza não reconhece revelação alguma em sentido próprio: todos os decretos de Deus são verdades eternas e idênticas às leis da natureza, e a profecia e o milagre foram submetidos a uma crítica cortante e explicados de modo natural. Essa crítica foi continuada pelo deísmo e pelo racionalismo. Mas o racionalismo pode ocorrer em formas diversas e muda de sentido a cada vez. Em primeiro lugar, chama-se racionalismo aquela direção que aceita, sim, uma revelação sobrenatural, mas confia à razão a decisão sobre a autenticidade e o sentido dessa revelação; a ela pertenceram muitos teólogos cartesianos, e também Leibniz e Wolff. Em seguida, racionalismo é o nome daquela opinião que ainda julga possível uma revelação sobrenatural, mas somente de verdades tais que a razão mais cedo ou mais tarde também teria podido encontrar: a revelação é então necessária apenas temporária e acidentalmente, serve só de preparação e educação para o domínio geral da religião da razão, dá apenas mais depressa e mais facilmente o que a razão de outro modo, por caminho mais longo e mais difícil, teria alcançado — tal é o conceito de revelação em Lessing, Fichte e Kant. Em terceiro lugar, chama-se racionalismo aquela teologia que nega toda revelação sobrenatural, mas admite que Deus, por disposições especiais de sua providência, equipou pessoas e abriu caminhos que podem levar a humanidade a um conhecimento melhor e mais puro da verdade religiosa; deles Wegscheider é o principal representante. E, finalmente, dá-se também o nome de racionalismo àquela direção que desde meados do século XVII se chamou naturalismo e, na Inglaterra, deísmo, e que, negando toda revelação, tinha a religio naturalis por perfeitamente suficiente; a ela pertencem Spinoza, Voltaire, Rousseau, Reimarus.

Os argumentos apresentados por esse racionalismo contra a revelação reduzem-se a isto. A revelação é, em primeiro lugar, impossível da parte de Deus, pois implicaria que Deus fosse mutável, que a sua criação fosse imperfeita e defeituosa e por isso precisasse de melhoria, e que ele mesmo, de resto um Deus otiosus, só então operasse quando opera de modo extraordinário. Além disso, a revelação é também impossível da parte do mundo, já que a ciência veio cada vez mais à descoberta de que este é sempre e em toda parte governado por um sistema inquebrantável de leis, que não deixa espaço para uma intervenção sobrenatural de Deus; a ciência parte dessa conexão causal das coisas e não pode fazer de outro modo; o supranaturalismo torna a ciência impossível e põe o arbítrio no lugar da regra; à medida que a ciência avançou, todos os fenômenos perderam o seu caráter supranatural, e não existe sequer direito de, contra toda experiência, ter um fenômeno por supranatural. Em seguida, a revelação, mesmo que tivesse ocorrido, é para o próprio recipiente, e ainda mais para os que vivem depois dele, irreconhecível e improvável: como se há de alguma vez decidir que uma profecia ou um milagre vem de Deus e não, por exemplo, do diabo? Tais critérios não se podem indicar. Os que aceitam uma revelação creem, portanto, apenas por autoridade humana, e nas coisas mais altas e mais graves dependem de homens: quantos homens entre Deus e mim! E, finalmente, a revelação está em conflito com a razão humana; pois, digam o que disserem, toda revelação que é supra rationem é com isso também contra rationem, suprime a razão e conduz ao fanatismo; e, além disso, se a revelação comunica algo que é supra rationem, então ela nunca pode ser assimilada e permanece sempre como mistério incompreendido fora de nossa consciência; e, se comunica algo que a própria razão poderia ter encontrado, então é desnecessária e priva a razão, sem necessidade, de seu poder e de sua energia.

10. A revelação depositada na Sagrada Escritura é um fato incômodo para todo aquele que a nega. Pois mesmo quem combate a sua possibilidade e a sua realidade deve ainda assim empenhar-se por uma explicação de sua origem histórica. Ela não nasceu de fraude, tanto quanto não nasceu a religião. A fé na revelação não é algo arbitrário ou acidental, que ocorra só aqui ou ali sob circunstâncias especiais, mas é essencialmente própria de toda religião. A questão da revelação não é tão simples como o racionalismo às vezes imaginou. Isso já se vê no fato de que todas as tentativas empregadas do lado naturalista para explicar de modo natural as narrativas bíblicas de milagres naufragaram até agora.

Se a revelação, em todas as suas formas de teofania, profecia e milagre, não é realmente sobrenatural, mas procede de Deus apenas naquele sentido em que toda atividade do homem tem nele a sua causa última, então se é obrigado a recorrer ou à interpretação material ou à formal das narrativas de milagres. Isto é: de um lado pode-se deixar os fatos até certo ponto intocados e aceitá-los como verdade, e então explicá-los pela ignorância do povo quanto às causas naturais e pela necessidade religiosa de atribuir tudo diretamente a Deus; ou explicá-los fisicamente por forças naturais desconhecidas; ou psicologicamente por certa virtuosidade em pressentir o futuro e em curar os doentes sem meios; ou teleologicamente por tal disposição e ordenação das forças físicas e psíquicas presentes na natureza que produzam um resultado insólito e incitem ao reconhecimento da providência de Deus e à fé no pregador. Ou, de outro lado, pode-se buscar a solução na explicação formal ou genética, isto é, numa concepção particular dos relatos sobre a revelação: chama-se então em auxílio a representação e o revestimento orientais, e a acomodação de Jesus e dos apóstolos às concepções populares; ou busca-se conselho na explicação alegórica, ou na natural, ou na mítica, ou na simbólica.

Mas todas essas explicações tiveram pouco êxito. A Escritura simplesmente não pode ser interpretada de modo naturalista ou racionalista. Os próprios fatos de revelação que a Escritura nos comunica opõem-se a todas essas tentativas. Pois, embora seja verdade que a revelação na Escritura, na forma, tem múltipla concordância com aquilo a que outras religiões apelam, em princípio ela se lhes opõe: faz entre elas e si mesma uma distinção nítida, e atribui consciente e com plena segurança a sua origem unicamente a uma operação extraordinária de Deus. A Escritura proíbe toda adivinhação e feitiçaria. Profetas e apóstolos nada querem com isso; opõem-se-lhe diretamente e não seguem fábulas engenhosamente inventadas. A profecia não foi outrora produzida por vontade de homem algum, mas o Espírito Santo impeliu os profetas. O milagre é um sinal da presença de Deus. A clara consciência de si que encontramos por toda parte entre os profetas, e o testemunho próprio inteiramente claro que acompanha em toda a Escritura a revelação, oferecem um obstáculo insuperável à explicação naturalista. Nem tampouco o método psicológico pode fazer justiça a essa consciência e a esse testemunho de profetas e apóstolos, e do próprio Cristo. Pode-se reconhecer com gratidão que a concepção moderna da revelação não pensa mais um instante em ter profetas e apóstolos por enganadores intencionais. Mas ela ainda assim não pode escapar à conclusão de que todos esses homens eram pobres iludidos e, de boa fé, errantes, por apelarem a uma pretensa revelação e se apresentarem com uma autoridade divina imaginada.

Pois não se trata como se a revelação contivesse apenas certos fatos, cuja interpretação deixasse ao nosso discernimento. Ela mesma lança sobre esses fatos uma luz peculiar; tem, por assim dizer, sobre eles a sua própria visão e a sua própria teoria. Na revelação da Escritura, palavra e fato, profecia e milagre andam sempre de mãos dadas. Ambos são necessários para que tanto a consciência quanto o ser sejam recriados e todo o cosmos seja redimido do pecado. A luz precisa da realidade e a realidade precisa da luz. Para aplicar a fraseologia kantiana a um objeto mais alto: sem os atos de Deus as palavras seriam vazias; sem as suas palavras os atos seriam cegos. Ambos, palavra e fato, estão na revelação tão intimamente entretecidos que um não pode ser aceito nem rejeitado sem o outro. Toda tentativa de explicar naturalisticamente os fatos de revelação terminou por isso, até hoje, sempre com o reconhecimento de que entre a visão de mundo supranatural da Escritura e a dos naturalistas se abre um abismo profundo e a reconciliação é impossível. O professor Scholten deu disso um exemplo notável: a princípio ainda aceitava como verdade as palavras do Jesus joanino; depois tentou explicá-las segundo suas concepções alteradas e pôr a exegese a serviço de sua dogmática heterodoxa; e finalmente, em 1864, reconheceu abertamente que a visão de mundo do quarto evangelista era outra que a sua. Toda direção negativa acaba reconhecendo que a revelação da Escritura ainda é concebida e representada do modo mais puro na ortodoxia. O radicalismo deixa a Escritura como está e acabou com a revelação.

Com isso a questão é reduzida ao seu princípio mais profundo. O reconhecimento ou não reconhecimento da revelação é decidido por toda a nossa visão da vida e do mundo. Não a crítica histórica, mas a autocrítica; não a ciência, mas a fé; não a cabeça, mas o coração dá aqui o fator decisivo. Do coração procede também a falta de entendimento. Nosso pensar tem raízes no nosso ser. Operari sequitur esse. A filosofia que se escolhe depende do tipo de homem que se é. Que o reconhecimento ou não reconhecimento da revelação seja em última instância uma questão de fé, prova-o suficientemente o fato de que nenhuma das duas concepções, nem a supranatural nem a naturalista, consegue remover todas as dificuldades nem resolver todas as objeções. A visão naturalista parece forte quando toma algumas narrativas de milagres por si e as isola do todo; mas esse todo mesmo, o sistema da revelação e dentro dele de novo a pessoa de Cristo, permanece para ela enigma insolúvel e pedra de tropeço. Inversamente, a visão supranatural ainda não conseguiu inserir todos os fatos e palavras particulares da revelação na ordem do todo. Mas aqui há, ainda assim, a concordância com a revelação em seu conjunto, o discernimento de seu sistema, a compreensão de sua poderosa harmonia. Ora, se o reconhecimento da revelação fosse uma proposição filosófica, teria relativamente pouco peso. Mas há nele um profundo interesse religioso. A própria religião está ligada à revelação. Quem abre mão desta perde também a religião, que sobre ela se edifica. A revelação da Escritura e a religião da Escritura mantêm-se ou caem juntas.

11. A visão de mundo que se opõe à da Escritura e que por princípio deve combater toda revelação designa-se melhor pelo nome de monismo. O monismo, tanto em sua forma panteísta quanto na materialista, esforça-se por reduzir todas as forças, substâncias e leis que se podem observar na natureza a uma única força, substância e lei. O materialismo admite apenas átomos qualitativamente idênticos, que em toda parte e sempre operam segundo as mesmas leis mecânicas e, por combinação e separação, fazem todas as coisas e fenômenos vir a ser e passar. O panteísmo igualmente não reconhece senão uma única substância, que é a mesma em todas as criaturas e em toda parte se modifica e se transforma segundo as mesmas leis lógicas. Ambos são animados pelo mesmo impulso, pelo anseio de unidade próprio do espírito humano. Mas, enquanto o materialismo procura reencontrar em todos os outros fenômenos — históricos, psíquicos, religiosos, éticos — a unidade de substância e de lei que domina no mundo físico, e tenta assim fazer de todas as ciências ciência natural, o panteísmo tenta explicar todos os fenômenos, também os físicos, a partir do espírito, e converter todas as ciências em ciência do espírito. Ambos são naturalismo, na medida em que talvez ainda deem lugar ao suprassensível, mas em todo caso não ao sobrenatural, e, para a ciência e a arte, para a religião e a moral, se contentam com este cosmos, com o aquém.

A visão de mundo da Escritura e de toda a teologia cristã é inteiramente outra: não monismo, mas teísmo; não naturalista, mas supranatural. Segundo essa visão teísta há uma multiplicidade de substâncias, de forças e de leis. Ela não se esforça por apagar as distinções de Deus e mundo, espírito e matéria, fenômenos psíquicos e físicos, éticos e religiosos, mas por descobrir a harmonia que sustenta e liga todas as coisas, e que é um efluxo do pensamento criador de Deus. Não a mesmidade ou a uniformidade, mas a unidade na diversidade é o alvo de seu esforço. Apesar de todas as pretensões do monismo, essa visão teísta tem direito e razão de existir. Pois o monismo não conseguiu reduzir todas as forças, substâncias e leis a uma só. O materialismo esbarra nos fenômenos psíquicos, e o panteísmo não encontra a passagem do pensar ao ser e não sabe o que fazer com a multiplicidade.

O ser mesmo é um mistério, uma maravilha. Que algo seja, e de onde seja, força o espírito pensante à admiração, e por isso esta é com razão chamada o começo da filosofia. E quanto mais se pensa a fundo esse ser, tanto mais cresce a admiração; pois dentro do círculo do ser, do cosmos, vemos aparecer forças diferentes — no mundo mecânico, vegetativo, animal, psíquico, e ainda nos fenômenos religiosos e éticos, estéticos e lógicos. A criação nos mostra uma ordem ascendente. As leis da conservação da força, da causalidade e da continuidade (natura non facit saltus) são decerto interpretadas e usadas indevidamente a serviço do monismo. Mas ainda assim aparecem repetidas vezes na natureza forças que não se podem explicar a partir das inferiores. Já na natureza mecânica a causalidade só vale em sentido hipotético: causas iguais têm efeitos iguais, mas somente sob circunstâncias iguais. No orgânico aparece uma força que não se origina do inorgânico — já o animal, diz Hegel, é uma maravilha diante da natureza vegetal, e ainda mais o espírito diante da vida. No entendimento, na vontade, na religião, na moral, na arte, na ciência, no direito, na história há forças em ação que diferem essencialmente das mecânicas. A tentativa de explicar mecanicamente todos esses fenômenos mostrou-se até agora vã. As ciências do espírito conservaram até hoje o seu lugar independente — coisa que mesmo um adversário como o professor Land, ainda que a contragosto, precisa reconhecer, admitindo que a ciência por ora é obrigada a permanecer dualista e até pluralista.

Cada uma dessas forças opera segundo a sua própria natureza, segundo a sua própria lei e ao seu próprio modo. As forças diferem, e portanto também as suas operações e o modo em que operam. A ideia de uma lei da natureza só surgiu aos poucos. Antes entendia-se por lex naturae uma regra ética conhecida por natureza. Mais tarde esse termo foi transferido, em sentido bastante impróprio, para a natureza, pois ninguém prescreveu essas leis à natureza e ninguém está em condições de obedecer-lhes ou transgredi-las. Daí que ainda reine grande diferença quanto ao conceito e ao sentido das leis naturais: no século XVII é Deus quem dá as leis da natureza, no XVIII é a própria natureza que o faz, e no XIX disso se encarregam os cientistas isolados. Mas isto é certo: as chamadas leis da natureza não são elas mesmas força alguma que exerça domínio sobre os fenômenos, mas nada mais que uma descrição, muitas vezes bem defeituosa e sempre falível, do modo em que operam as forças que estão na natureza. Uma lei da natureza diz apenas que certas forças, sob circunstâncias iguais, operam do mesmo modo. A regularidade dos fenômenos repousa, portanto, em última instância na imutabilidade das diferentes forças que operam na natureza e dos últimos elementos ou substâncias de que ela se compõe. As leis diferem conforme esses elementos e forças são distintos: as leis mecânicas são diferentes das físicas, as lógicas de novo diferentes das éticas e estéticas. Em sentido físico dar empobrece; em sentido ético, enriquece. As leis da natureza, isto é, de todo o cosmos, de toda criatura, não são portanto tampouco um cordão em torno das coisas, de modo que nada possa penetrar nem sair, mas apenas uma fórmula para o modo em que, segundo a nossa observação, cada força opera segundo a sua natureza.

Todos esses elementos e forças, com as leis que neles habitam, são, segundo a visão de mundo teísta, mantidos de momento a momento por Deus, que é a causalidade última e suprema, inteligente e livre, de todas as coisas. Como criaturas, não têm subsistência em si mesmas. É o poder onipresente e eterno de Deus que mantém e governa tudo. Nele, em seu pensamento e em seu governo, está a unidade, a harmonia que mantém unidas e liga todas as coisas na mais rica diversidade e as conduz a um só alvo. Por isso há nas criaturas, como repetidas vezes diz Agostinho, unidade, medida, ordem, número, modo, grau e espécie: a uns deu ser mais amplo, a outros menos, e assim ordenou as naturezas das essências por graus. Deus está presente em tudo. Nele todas as coisas vivem, se movem e são. Natureza e história são obra sua. Ele sempre opera. Tudo nos revela Deus. Pode ser que o seu dedo se note por nós mais claramente num acontecimento que noutro; o puro de coração vê Deus em todas as suas obras. Milagres não são, portanto, absolutamente necessários para nos fazer conhecer Deus como sustentador e governador do universo. Tudo é ato seu. Nada acontece sem a sua vontade. Ele está com o seu ser presente em todas as coisas. E por isso tudo é também revelação, palavra, obra de Deus.

12. Com tal visão de mundo uma revelação sobrenatural não está absolutamente em conflito. Pois aqui a natureza não existe um só instante independentemente de Deus, mas vive e se move nele. Todo poder que nela aparece é dele derivado e opera segundo a lei que ele nela pôs. Deus não está fora da natureza e não está dela apartado por uma cerca de leis, mas está presente nela e a sustenta pela palavra do seu poder. Ele opera de dentro, e pode fazer aparecer novas potências, distintas das existentes na natureza e na operação. E essas potências mais altas não anulam as inferiores, mas tomam ainda assim um lugar próprio ao lado e diante delas. O espírito humano se esforça a todo momento por contrariar as forças inferiores da natureza em sua operação e por dominá-las: toda a cultura é um poder pelo qual o homem domina a natureza, e a arte e a ciência são um triunfo do espírito sobre a matéria. Do mesmo modo, na revelação, na profecia e no milagre, aparece um novo poder divino, que decerto ocupa um lugar próprio no cosmos, mas absolutamente não conflita com as potências inferiores em suas leis.

Não se trata de nenhuma pretensa suspensão das leis da natureza pelos milagres. Não há perfuração da natureza. Já Tomás dizia: quando Deus faz algo contra o curso da natureza, não se suprime toda a ordem do universo, mas o curso de uma coisa para outra. Sim, nem sequer a ordem da causa para o seu efeito é anulada: embora o fogo na fornalha não queimasse os três jovens, nesse fogo permanecia a ordem para queimar. Pelo milagre não se produz mudança alguma nas potências que estão na natureza, nem nas leis segundo as quais elas operam. A única coisa que acontece no milagre é que a operação das potências presentes na natureza é suspensa num ponto determinado, porque entra outra potência, que opera segundo uma lei própria e produz uma operação própria.

A ciência, portanto, nada tem a temer do supranatural. Mas que cada ciência permaneça em seu domínio e não se arrogue o direito de prescrever a lei à outra. É direito e dever da ciência natural, dentro de sua área, buscar as causas naturais dos fenômenos. Mas que ela não domine a filosofia, quando esta investiga a origem e o destino das coisas. Que reconheça também o direito e a independência da religião e da teologia, e não solape o fundamento em que estas repousam. Pois aqui vêm à expressão motivos religiosos para a fé numa revelação, sobre os quais a ciência natural como tal não pode julgar. Também entre as diversas ciências o alvo não está na uniformidade, mas na harmonia. Que a teologia honre a ciência natural, mas reivindique para si igual tratamento. A supressão das fronteiras já causou confusão demais. Dela nasceu também a afirmação de Hume, Voltaire e Renan de que jamais um milagre foi suficientemente estabelecido, e de que a experiência constante não pode ser derrubada por alguns testemunhos. Renan diz que não afirma ser o milagre impossível, mas que não houve até hoje milagre constatado, e recusa-se a crer num milagre enquanto uma comissão de toda sorte de homens de ciência, fisiologistas, químicos, não houver investigado tal fato e, após repetida experimentação, o houver estabelecido como milagre. Com tal condição o milagre está julgado a priori: pois, quanto aos milagres da Escritura, a oportunidade de tal experimento não é concedida nem a Renan nem a nenhum de nós. Os milagres pertencem de uma vez por todas à história, e na história vale outro método que na física. Aqui o experimento está em seu lugar; mas na história temos de contentar-nos com testemunhos. Se, porém, no domínio histórico o método do experimento tiver de ser introduzido e aplicado, não há um só fato que resista à prova. Então é o fim de toda história. Que cada ciência, portanto, permaneça em seu terreno e nele investigue segundo a sua própria natureza. Com o ouvido não se pode ver, com a vara não se pode pesar, e com o experimento não se pode provar a revelação.

Além disso, a natureza, o cosmos, ainda é concebida por demais como uma máquina, que está pronta e é agora movida por uma só força e se move sempre segundo uma só lei. O deísmo tinha essa representação grosseira, mas ela é ainda inconscientemente partilhada por muitos e serve no combate à revelação. Mas a natureza, o cosmos, não é uma obra acabada que agora possua certa independência; é physis, natura em sentido próprio: está sempre em devir, encontra-se em desenvolvimento teleológico contínuo, é conduzida em períodos sucessivos a um destino divino. Em tal concepção da natureza os milagres estão, de novo, inteiramente em seu lugar. Hellwald diz, na última página de sua história da cultura, que toda a vida na terra há de perecer um dia no eterno repouso da morte, e termina com estas palavras desconsoladas: então a terra, despojada de sua atmosfera e de seu mundo vivo, girará em torno do sol em desolação lunar, como antes; mas o gênero humano, a sua cultura, o seu esforço e o seu anseio, as suas criações e os seus ideais — foram. Para quê? Naturalmente, num sistema que termina com tal pergunta sem resposta, revelação e milagre não seriam senão um absurdo. Mas a Escritura nos ensina que a revelação serve para isto: recriar em reino de Deus a criação corrompida pelo pecado. Aqui a revelação ocupa um lugar inteiramente proporcionado e teleológico no plano do mundo que Deus formou para si e realiza no curso dos tempos.

Nesse sentido já dizia Agostinho que o prodígio se dá não contra a natureza, mas contra aquilo que da natureza é conhecido. A expressão foi muitas vezes interpretada em sentido errado, em favor de uma teologia que procurou entender os milagres como operação de uma potência que por natureza está presente no homem ou na natureza, ou que nele é restaurada pela regeneração ou pela fé. Essa concepção singular já ocorre em Fílon e no neoplatonismo, encontrou depois repetidas vezes eco em vários teólogos cristãos — Escoto Erígena, Paracelso, Böhme, Oetinger — e é aqui e ali encontrada também na teologia da mediação. Revelação, inspiração e milagre pertenceriam então à disposição original da natureza humana. É certo que essa disposição foi enfraquecida pelo pecado, mas ainda vem à luz na inspiração poética e heroica, no magnetismo e em fenômenos afins. Por caminho ético, porém — pela união com Deus, pela purificação ascética, pela regeneração —, essa disposição pode ser renovada e fortalecida. Todos os crentes estão assim, na verdade, inspirados e podem fazer milagres: quando a alma está dirigida em amor para Deus, diz Böhme, então pode fazer os prodígios que quiser. Em sentido aparentado, Bonnet tinha profecia e milagre por preformados de antemão na natureza e produzidos pela operação das forças ordinárias, e alguns teólogos do século passado falaram por isso de razões seminais e primordiais dos milagres. Mas essa tentativa de explicação dos milagres não pode ser aceita. Ela confunde o natural com o sobrenatural, o supranatural com o religioso-ético, e apaga as fronteiras entre profecia e mântica, milagre e magia, inspiração e iluminação.

Assim tampouco se pode explicar a expressão de Agostinho acima mencionada. Por natura nota ele entende a natureza em nosso sentido; e tendo isso em vista chega a dizer que o milagre é contra naturam, como mais tarde fizeram Tomás e Voetius. Mas esse mesmo milagre foi desde o princípio acolhido por Deus na natureza em sentido mais amplo, isto é, no destino das coisas determinado por Deus, no plano divino do mundo. O mesmo pensamento foi mais tarde expresso também por Leibniz: Deus acolheu desde o princípio os milagres em seu plano do mundo e os produz no seu tempo; os milagres não se explicam pelas naturezas das coisas criadas, mas razões de uma ordem superior à da natureza o movem a fazê-los. Segundo Leibniz, portanto, os milagres não jazem, como um germe, potencialmente encerrados nas forças da natureza, mas são elementos constitutivos no plano do mundo de Deus. Nessa medida os milagres pertencem muito certamente à natureza. Eles não entram de fora no cosmos existente para perturbá-lo, mas estão acolhidos na própria ideia do mundo e servem para a restauração e a perfeição da natureza caída. Sim, mesmo sem pecado teria havido no mundo lugar para profecia e milagre. O sobrenatural não se tornou necessário primeiro pela queda. Não a revelação e o milagre em si mesmos, mas somente o caráter soteriológico que ambos agora portam foi causado pelo pecado. Nessa medida nem mesmo o milagre é um elemento estranho acrescentado à criação caída. Revelação e religião, profecia e milagre não são em si mesmos dona superaddita: são inteiramente naturais, na medida em que pertencem à ideia de mundo de Deus e ao plano do mundo que ele, apesar de toda oposição, leva a execução no tempo.

Não obstante, a revelação constitui uma ordem de coisas distinta da ordo naturae ordinária: um sistema de palavras e atos de Deus, que ele mesmo é governado por um princípio e aparece diante de nossos olhos como um todo orgânico. A revelação não é um ato isolado de Deus no tempo, apartado do todo da natureza, mas é um mundo em si mesmo, distinto da natureza e contudo adaptado a ela, aparentado a ela, destinado a ela. Nesse sistema de revelação, que começa no paraíso e só termina na parusia, muito ainda é obscuro e inexplicado. Linhas mestras podem ser traçadas. Tanto na história das profecias quanto na dos milagres há ordem e progresso a descobrir. Também a revelação tem as suas leis e regras próprias. É a bela tarefa da historia revelationis rastreá-las e descobrir o sistema que jaz oculto em sua história. Mas há ainda muitos fatos cuja significação própria para o todo e cuja conexão com ele ainda não são discernidas; ainda muitas palavras e atos que não se podem reduzir a regra alguma. Isso não deve espantar, e menos ainda deve ser explorado como fundamento de incredulidade. Também a filosofia da natureza e da história está longe de haver terminado a sua obra; também ela está a todo momento diante de cruzes que não sabe explicar. E nem por isso alguém duvida da unidade da natureza e do plano da história. Comparada com estas, a revelação está até em caso favorável: suas linhas mestras estão fixadas. Começando no paraíso e terminando na parusia, ela forma uma grandiosa história, que espalha luz sobre toda a natureza e toda a história e nelas, segundo a palavra de Agostinho, preserva do excesso o extraordinário pelo ordinário e enobrece o ordinário pelo extraordinário. Sem ela caminhamos nas trevas, vamos ao encontro do eterno repouso da morte e não temos resposta à pergunta para que tudo foi. Mas com ela nos encontramos num mundo que, apesar de todo o poder do pecado, é conduzido ao encontro da restauração e da perfeição. Israel a preparação, Cristo o centro, a igreja o desdobramento, a parusia a coroa — esse é o cordão que ata os fatos da revelação.

Por isso a fé na revelação especial é, ao fim, na verdade uma só com a fé em outro mundo, melhor que este. Se este mundo, com as potências e leis que naturalmente nele habitam, é o único e o melhor, então temos, é claro, de nos contentar com ele. Então as leis da natureza são iguais aos decretos de Deus; então este mundo é o Filho, o Logos, a imagem própria de Deus; então na ordo naturae em que vivemos já está a revelação plena e adequada da sabedoria e do poder de Deus, da sua bondade e santidade. Que direito há então de esperar que o Lá se torne um dia o Aqui, que o ideal passe à realidade, que o bem triunfe sobre o mal, e que o mundo dos valores venha um dia a reger o mundo da realidade? A evolução não nos leva até lá. Nihil fit ex nihilo. Deste mundo não sai paraíso algum. O que nele não está não pode dele proceder. Se não há um Além, nenhum Deus que esteja acima da natureza, nenhuma ordo supernaturalis, então ao pecado, às trevas, à morte pertence a última palavra. A revelação da Escritura nos dá a conhecer outro mundo, de santidade e de glória, que desce a este mundo caído, não só como doutrina, mas também como poder divino, como história, como realidade, como sistema harmonioso de palavras e atos em conjunto, e que ergue este mundo de sua queda e do status peccati, pelo status gratiae, e o conduz adiante ao status gloriae. A revelação é a vinda de Deus à humanidade, a fim de habitar com ela eternamente.

§ 11. A Sagrada Escritura

A. Revelação e Escritura

1. A história das religiões mostra não só a conexão íntima entre religião e revelação, mas também entre revelação e Escritura. Fórmulas mágicas, textos litúrgicos, tratados rituais, leis cerimoniais, documentos sacerdotais, literatura histórica e mitológica ocorrem na esfera religiosa de todos os povos civilizados. Mas fala-se de Escrituras sagradas num sentido ainda mais estreito: muitos povos possuem um livro ou uma coleção de livros que têm autoridade divina e servem de regra de doutrina e de vida — o Shu-king dos chineses, o Veda dos indianos, o Tripitaka dos budistas, o Avesta dos persas, o Alcorão dos maometanos, o Antigo Testamento dos judeus, a Bíblia dos cristãos. Max Müller reuniu essas sete sob o nome de religiões do livro. Já esse fenômeno indica que revelação e Escritura não podem estar numa conexão acidental e arbitrária; e a história da doutrina do Alcorão oferece paralelos notáveis com a do dogma da Escritura na igreja cristã.

Em primeiro lugar, pensamento e palavra, pensar e falar, estão intimamente relacionados. Não são idênticos, como quer Max Müller, pois há também um pensar, uma consciência, ainda que obscura, sem palavra: o homem nada pode dizer que não possa também sentir; pode contudo sentir algo que não possa dizer (Agostinho). Mas a palavra é o pensamento acabado, o pensamento que chegou à independência e à plena maturidade e por isso também o pensamento claro e lúcido, auxílio indispensável do pensar consciente. A língua é a alma da nação, a guardiã dos bens e tesouros da humanidade, o vínculo entre homens, povos e gerações, a grande tradição única que faz o mundo dos homens, uno na natureza, ser também uno na consciência. Ora, assim como o pensamento se incorpora na palavra, a palavra por sua vez se incorpora na escrita. Também a língua não é senão um organismo de sinais, mas de sinais audíveis; e o sinal audível procura naturalmente estabilidade no sinal visível, na escrita. A escrita é propriamente arte de sinais e ocorre nesse sentido amplo entre todos os povos, desenvolvendo-se gradualmente da escrita de sinais e figuras, pela escrita de palavras e conceitos, até a escrita de letras. Por refinada e exata que se tenha tornado, é imperfeita: nosso pensar fica aquém da coisa, nosso falar aquém do pensar, e há também grande distância entre a palavra e a escrita; os sons só são rendidos aproximadamente em sinais visíveis. O pensar é mais rico que o falar, e o falar mais rico que o escrever. Mas nem por isso a escrita deixa de ter grande valor: a escrita é a palavra tornada duradoura, generalizada e eternizada. Faz do pensamento a propriedade dos que estão longe de nós e dos que vêm depois de nós, o bem comum da humanidade. Retrata a palavra e fala aos olhos, dá corpo e cor ao pensamento. A escrita é a encarnação da palavra.

Isso vale em geral. Os tradicionalistas — de Bonald, Lamennais, Bautain — foram longe demais ao dizer que a linguagem derivava imediatamente de Deus e que nela se conservavam todos os tesouros da verdade, de sorte que o homem se tornava participante de toda verdade a partir da linguagem e da tradição. Mas há nisso um bom pensamento. E sobretudo no domínio religioso a palavra e a escrita adquirem significado mais alto. A revelação no cristianismo é história. Consiste em atos, em acontecimentos que passam e logo pertencem ao passado. É um actus transiens, temporário, até momentâneo, e tem essa forma temporal, esse caráter perecível, em comum com todas as coisas terrenas. E contudo contém pensamentos eternos, que tiveram significado não apenas para o momento em que ocorreu e para as pessoas a quem ocorreu, mas que valem para todos os tempos e para todos os homens. Como unir o que parece contraditório? O caráter estranho disso foi quase sempre sentido. O deísmo inglês chamou a atenção para ele: Herbert de Cherbury sustentou que só se podia dar fé àquela revelação que viesse imediatamente a nós mesmos; as revelações que outros receberam são para nós apenas história, tradição, e na história nunca se passa além da probabilidade. O deísmo concluiu daí que a religio naturalis bastava. Fez uma separação entre fato e ideia, entre o temporal e o eterno, entre verdades históricas contingentes e verdades necessárias da razão. E o racionalismo especulativo de Hegel seguiu a mesma trilha: a ideia não se derrama num único indivíduo.

Ora, essa separação mostrou-se praticamente impossível. O desligamento da ideia em relação à história equivale, no cristianismo como em toda religião, nada menos que à perda da própria ideia. A proposição de Lessing — verdades históricas contingentes nunca podem tornar-se prova de verdades necessárias da razão — encontrou então muita aprovação; mas isso só se explica pelo sentido anti-histórico e pela divinização da razão do século XVIII. O século presente desaprendeu o delírio das verdades necessárias da razão e o desprezo pela história; aprendeu a entender a história em seu sentido mais profundo e em seu significado eterno. Se os fatos da história fossem acidentais, ela mesma se tornaria um agregado de acontecimentos isolados, sem ordem, sem coerência, sem plano; então não haveria mais história e seu estudo seria ocupação ociosa. E daí se seguiria por si que também a história da revelação perde todo o seu valor. Mas a história é justamente a realização dos pensamentos de Deus, a execução de um conselho de Deus a respeito de suas criaturas; há nela unidade, curso, ordem, logos. E tal concepção da história só se tornou possível pelo cristianismo; entre gregos e romanos não se encontra: havia povos, não havia humanidade. A Escritura, porém, nos ensina a conhecer a unidade do gênero humano e nos dá a grandiosa concepção de uma história do mundo — e nela ela mesma ocupa o primeiro lugar, que domina tudo. As verdades históricas não são, portanto, acidentais, e menos que todas a história da revelação: ela é tão necessária que sem ela toda a história e toda a humanidade se despedaçam. Ela é a portadora dos pensamentos de Deus, o apocalipse do propósito de Deus, sem o qual o homem tateia no escuro. E, do outro lado, as verdades da razão de que Lessing falava são tudo menos necessárias: a crítica de Kant demonstrou o contrário, e precisamente quanto a elas reina hoje um ceticismo duvidoso. A relação é, pois, exatamente a inversa: o histórico foi percebido em seu significado eterno, e o racional veio à luz em sua mutabilidade.

O fato é que herdamos tudo dos antepassados. Nada trouxemos ao mundo. Física e psiquicamente, intelectual e eticamente, dependemos do mundo em torno de nós; e religiosamente não é diferente. A revelação, que existe na história, não pode chegar até nós senão pelo caminho da tradição, no sentido mais amplo. A pergunta de Rousseau e de Strauss — por que essa revelação não é concedida a cada ser humano — está fora de lugar: pressupõe que a revelação não contém senão doutrina e esquece que ela é e tem de ser história. O centro da revelação é a pessoa de Cristo, e Cristo é uma pessoa histórica; sua encarnação, seu padecer e morrer, sua ressurreição e ascensão não são suscetíveis de repetição alguma. Sim, pertence justamente à encarnação que ele entre na história e viva na forma do tempo; ele não teria sido semelhante a nós em todas as coisas se não se tivesse submetido ao tempo e ao espaço, à lei do devir. A revelação, não como doutrina mas como encarnação, não pode ser outra coisa senão história, isto é, cair num tempo determinado e estar ligada a um lugar determinado. A encarnação é a unidade do ser — eu sou — e do devir — o Verbo se fez carne. Ademais, também na revelação Deus segue as linhas fundamentais que traçou para a convivência dos homens. A humanidade não é um agregado de indivíduos, mas um todo orgânico em que todos vivem uns dos outros. A revelação segue essa lei; a recriação liga-se à criação. Assim como em todo domínio obtemos por meio da tradição parte nos bens da humanidade, assim também na religião: isso também pertence à ideia da encarnação. Ela mesma é um actus transiens, mas pela tradição torna-se propriedade e bênção de todos os homens. Que essa revelação esteja ainda limitada a um conjunto tão pequeno de homens é um problema difícil, que mais adiante precisa ser investigado de perto; mas esse fato, em si comovente, jamais pode ser, para quem a conhece, razão para rejeitá-la. Muitos povos vivem em bárbara rudeza, e também isso acontece segundo a vontade e o beneplácito de Deus; nem por isso ocorre a alguém desprezar os bens da civilização. Rousseau delirava com o homem natural, mas permaneceu tranquilo na França.

2. O portador dos bens ideais da humanidade é a linguagem, e a carne da linguagem é a escrita. Também aqui Deus, na revelação, se associa. Para entrar plenamente na humanidade e poder tornar-se inteiramente sua propriedade, a revelação assume a forma da Escritura. A Escritura é a forma de servo da revelação. Sim, o fato central da revelação, a encarnação, conduz à Escritura. Na profecia e no milagre a revelação desce tão baixo e afunda tão fundo que não desdenha como meio nem as formas mais baixas da vida humana e religiosa; o próprio Logos torna-se não apenas homem, mas servo, carne. E do mesmo modo a palavra da revelação assume a forma imperfeita e defeituosa da escrita. Mas só assim a revelação se torna bem da humanidade. O fim da revelação não é Cristo; Cristo é centro e meio; o fim é que Deus habite novamente em suas criaturas e revele sua glória no cosmo — Deus tudo em todos. Também isso é, em certo sentido, uma encarnação de Deus. E para alcançar esse fim a palavra da revelação passa à escrita. Também a Escritura é, portanto, meio e instrumento, não fim. Ela brota da encarnação de Deus em Cristo, é em certo sentido sua continuação, o caminho pelo qual Cristo faz sua morada em sua igreja, a preparação do caminho para a plena inabitação de Deus. Mas nessa inabitação de Deus ela tem também o seu fim e o seu alvo. Como toda a revelação, também ela é um actus transiens.

Com isso torna-se clara a relação em que a Escritura está para com a revelação. A teologia antiga deixava a revelação ser absorvida quase inteiramente na teopneustia, na dádiva da Escritura. Mencionava a revelação só de passagem e a concebia estreita demais. Parecia que nada havia por trás da Escritura, e a Escritura vinha a ficar inteiramente destacada e isolada, sem raiz na história, com o aspecto de ter caído de repente do céu. A poderosa concepção da revelação como uma história, que começa com a queda e só termina na parusia, era-lhe quase inteiramente estranha. Essa visão é insustentável. Pois, na maioria dos casos, a revelação precede a teopneustia e dela é separada muitas vezes por longo tempo: a revelação de Deus aos patriarcas, na história de Israel, na pessoa de Cristo foi por vezes descrita só séculos depois; e também os profetas e apóstolos não raro puseram por escrito suas revelações bastante tempo depois de as receberem. Ademais, muitas pessoas foram órgãos de revelação — Elias, Eliseu, Tomé, Natanael — sem jamais terem escrito um livro acolhido no cânon; outras, ao contrário, não receberam revelação alguma nem fizeram milagres, e contudo escreveram, como os autores de muitos livros históricos. A revelação, além disso, deu-se em formas diversas, sonho, visão, e visava dar a conhecer algo oculto; a teopneustia foi sempre uma operação do Espírito de Deus na consciência e teve por fim a garantia do conteúdo da Escritura. A teologia mais recente com razão distinguiu, pois, revelação e Escritura. Mas caiu não raro no outro extremo: desligou a Escritura tão inteiramente da revelação que esta se tornou um apêndice acidental, um acréscimo arbitrário, um documento humano da revelação, talvez ainda útil, mas em todo caso não necessário. Em toda sorte de variações se cantou esse tema: não a letra, mas o Espírito; não a Escritura, mas a pessoa de Cristo; não a palavra, mas o fato é o principium da teologia. E Lessing chegou à conhecida súplica: ó Lutero! tu, grande e santo homem, libertaste-nos do jugo do papa, mas quem nos libertará do jugo da letra, do papa de papel? Essa visão não é menos errada e é ainda mais perigosa que a outra. Pois revelação e teopneustia em muitos casos coincidem inteiramente: longe de tudo o que se descreve na Escritura ter sido antes revelado, muito surgiu na consciência sob o próprio escrever, como nos salmos e nas epístolas. Quem nega a teopneustia e despreza a Escritura perde também, em grandíssima parte, a revelação; nada lhe resta senão escritos humanos. Além disso, a revelação, mesmo onde de fato ou por palavra precedeu à descrição, só nos é conhecida única e exclusivamente pela Sagrada Escritura. Nada sabemos, literalmente nada, das revelações de Deus sob Israel e em Cristo senão pela Sagrada Escritura. Não há outro principium. Com a Sagrada Escritura cai, portanto, toda a revelação, cai também a pessoa de Cristo. Justamente porque a revelação é história, não há outro modo de saber algo dela senão o modo ordinário em toda história, isto é, o testemunho; o testemunho decide para nossa consciência acerca da realidade de um fato. Não há comunhão com Cristo senão pela comunhão na palavra dos apóstolos. A revelação existe para nós, para a igreja de todos os séculos, somente na forma da Sagrada Escritura. E, finalmente, a teopneustia é uma propriedade das Escrituras, um ato próprio e distinto de Deus na produção da Escritura, e assim, nessa medida, ela mesma deve ser reconhecida e honrada como ato de revelação. O desprezo ou a rejeição da Escritura não é, pois, ato inocente a respeito de testemunhos humanos sobre a revelação, mas negação de um ato especial de revelação de Deus e, portanto, em princípio, negação de toda revelação.

Ambas as direções são, portanto, unilaterais: tanto a que desconhece a revelação em benefício da Escritura quanto a que desconhece a Escritura em benefício da revelação. Naquela não vem à sua justiça a manifestação; nesta, a teopneustia. Ali se tem Escritura sem escritos; aqui, escritos sem Escritura. Ali há negligência da história; aqui, desprezo da palavra. A primeira direção resvala para o intelectualismo ortodoxo; a segunda corre o perigo do espiritualismo anabatista. A visão correta é esta: que a Escritura nem se identifica com a revelação nem se desprende dela e se põe fora dela. A teopneustia é um elemento na revelação, um ato final em que a revelação de Deus em Cristo, para esta dispensação, é levada a termo; nessa medida, portanto, o fim, a coroa, a perpetuação e a publicação da revelação — o meio pelo qual a revelação imediata se fez mediata e foi recolhida em livros.

3. A revelação, tomada como um todo, só alcançou seu fim e seu alvo na parusia de Cristo. Mas ela se reparte em dois grandes períodos, em duas dispensações distintas. A primeira dispensação destinava-se a incorporar a plena revelação de Deus na história da humanidade e a fazê-la parte dela. Toda essa economia pode ser vista como uma vinda de Deus ao seu povo, como uma busca de um tabernáculo para Cristo. É pois predominantemente uma revelação de Deus em Cristo; traz caráter objetivo; caracteriza-se por atos extraordinários — teofania, profecia e milagre são os caminhos pelos quais Deus vem ao seu povo. Cristo é o sujeito dela: é o Logos que resplandece nas trevas, vem para o que é seu e se faz carne em Jesus. O Espírito Santo ainda não era, porque Cristo ainda não fora glorificado. Nessa dispensação o pôr-por-escrito acompanha o passo da revelação; ambos crescem de século em século, e à medida que a revelação avança a Escritura aumenta em extensão. Quando em Cristo a plena revelação de Deus foi dada, quando teofania, profecia e milagre nele atingiram seu ápice e a graça de Deus em Cristo se manifestou a todos os homens, então está também presente a conclusão da Escritura. Cristo revelou-nos plenamente o Pai em sua pessoa e obra; por isso na Escritura essa revelação nos é plenamente descrita. A revelação chegou, em certo sentido, ao seu fim: a dispensação do Filho dá lugar à dispensação do Espírito, e a revelação objetiva passa à apropriação subjetiva. Em Cristo, no meio da história, foi criado por Deus um centro orgânico, a partir do qual se traçam agora círculos de circunferência cada vez mais larga, dentro dos quais brilha a luz da revelação. O sol, ao nascer, cobre com seus raios apenas uma pequena superfície da terra; no zênite, brilha sobre a terra inteira. Israel foi apenas instrumento de revelação; prestou seu serviço e desaparece, quando trouxe à luz o Cristo segundo a carne; agora a graça de Deus se manifesta a todos os homens.

A revelação, portanto, prossegue, mas de outro modo e em outras formas. O Espírito Santo tudo toma de Cristo; nada acrescenta de novo à revelação. Esta está concluída e por isso não é suscetível de acréscimo. Cristo é o Logos cheio de graça e de verdade; sua obra está acabada; o próprio Pai repousa em seu labor. Sua obra não pode ser suplementada nem aumentada pelas boas obras dos santos; sua palavra, pela tradição; sua pessoa, pelo papa. Em Cristo Deus se revelou plenamente e plenamente se deu. Por isso também a Escritura está concluída: é a palavra perfeita de Deus. E contudo, ainda que de outro modo, a revelação continua, pois ela não tem seu alvo final em Cristo, que é mediador, mas na nova humanidade, na habitação de Deus com o seu povo. Continua em suas três formas de teofania, profecia e milagre. Deus vem à congregação de Cristo e nela habita; onde dois ou três estão reunidos em seu nome, ali está ele no meio. Continua sempre a fazer milagres: renova pela regeneração, pela santificação e pela glorificação; os milagres espirituais não cessam. Deus sempre opera. Mas isso não basta: não só o mundo do ser, também o da consciência deve ser renovado. No Logos estava a vida, mas também a luz dos homens; Cristo é cheio de graça, mas também de verdade; a revelação consistiu em milagre, mas também em profecia. Palavra e ato andaram juntos na primeira dispensação; acompanham-se também na economia do Espírito Santo. O Espírito Santo regenera, mas também ilumina. E assim como os milagres espirituais não acrescentam elemento novo aos fatos objetivos da revelação, mas são apenas efeitos do milagre da graça de Deus operado em Cristo, assim também a profecia na congregação, a iluminação do Espírito Santo, não é revelação de coisas ocultas, mas aplicação dos tesouros de sabedoria e de conhecimento que estão compreendidos em Cristo e expostos em sua palavra. Também agora a revelação não é apenas doutrina que ilumina o entendimento, mas também vida que renova o coração; é ambas as coisas em unidade indissolúvel. As unilateralidades do intelectualismo e do misticismo devem ambas ser evitadas, pois ambas desconhecem a riqueza da revelação. Porque cabeça e coração, o homem inteiro em seu ser e em sua consciência, devem ser renovados, a revelação nesta dispensação prossegue na Escritura e na igreja em conjunto. E ambas estão na mais estreita conexão uma com a outra. A Escritura é a luz da igreja, a igreja é a vida da Escritura. Fora da igreja a Escritura é um enigma, uma pedra de tropeço; sem regeneração ninguém a pode conhecer; quem não participa de sua vida não pode entender-lhe o sentido. E, inversamente, a vida da igreja é coisa oculta, se a Escritura não faz brilhar sobre ela a sua luz. A Escritura explica a igreja, a igreja compreende a Escritura. Na igreja a Escritura confirma e sela a sua revelação, e na Escritura o cristão, a igreja, aprende a entender-se a si mesma em sua relação com Deus e com o mundo, em seu passado, presente e futuro.

Por isso a Escritura tampouco está por si só. Não pode ser concebida deisticamente. Está enraizada numa história de séculos e é fruto da revelação sob Israel e em Cristo. Mas não é por isso um livro de tempos há muito passados, que nos põe em relação apenas com pessoas e acontecimentos do passado. A Sagrada Escritura não é uma história morta nem uma velha crônica, mas a palavra sempre viva e eternamente jovem que Deus agora, neste tempo e sempre, faz sair para o seu povo. É a fala continuamente prosseguida de Deus a nós. Não serve apenas para nos fazer conhecer historicamente o que aconteceu no passado; nem tem sequer a intenção de nos fornecer uma narrativa histórica segundo o padrão de fidelidade que se exige em outras ciências. A Sagrada Escritura é um livro de intenção: tudo o que dantes foi escrito, para nosso ensino foi escrito, para que pela paciência e consolação das Escrituras tenhamos esperança. Foi escrita pelo Espírito Santo, a fim de servi-lo na condução da igreja, no aperfeiçoamento dos santos, na edificação do corpo de Cristo. Nela Deus vem diariamente ao seu povo; nela fala aos seus filhos, não de longe, mas de perto; nela se revela dia após dia aos crentes na plenitude de sua graça e verdade. A Escritura é a comunicação permanente entre o céu e a terra, entre Cristo e sua congregação, entre Deus e seus filhos. Não nos prende apenas ao passado, liga-nos ao Senhor vivo nos céus. É a viva vox Dei, a carta do Deus onipotente à sua criatura. Pela palavra Deus outrora criou o mundo, pela palavra o mantém; mas pela palavra também o recria e o prepara para sua habitação. A teopneustia é, portanto, também uma propriedade permanente da Sagrada Escritura: ela não foi teopneusta apenas no momento em que foi posta em livro; ela é teopneusta. A Escritura foi divinamente inspirada não só quando foi escrita, soprando Deus pelos escritores, mas também quando é lida, soprando Deus pela Escritura e soprando a Escritura ele mesmo (Bengel). Procedendo da revelação, é conservada viva e feita eficaz pela teopneustia. É o Espírito Santo quem mantém e conecta um ao outro profecia e milagre, Escritura e igreja, e assim prepara a parusia. Pois quando o ser e a consciência tiverem sido ambos inteiramente renovados, então a revelação tem o seu fim. A Escritura não é então mais necessária. A teopneustia é então a porção de todos os filhos de Deus: serão todos ensinados pelo Senhor e o servirão em seu templo. Profecia e milagre tornaram-se natureza, pois Deus habita entre o seu povo.

B. A doutrina da inspiração

4. A autoridade da Sagrada Escritura foi reconhecida por todas as igrejas cristãs. Não há dogma sobre o qual haja mais unidade que o da Sagrada Escritura. A gênese dessa fé não pode mais ser rastreada: ela existe até onde recuamos. No Antigo Testamento a autoridade dos mandamentos e ordenanças de Jahvé, isto é, da tora e igualmente dos profetas, já está firmada. Moisés e os profetas sempre foram em Israel homens de autoridade divina, e seus escritos foram imediatamente reconhecidos como autoritativos. Sobre isso os judeus edificaram uma doutrina da inspiração tão estrita e exclusiva quanto possível. A tora está à frente da Escritura do Antigo Testamento; em seu conteúdo é idêntica à Sabedoria divina, imagem de Deus, filha de Deus, revelação da salvação suficiente em si mesma, destinada a todos os povos, o bem supremo, o caminho para a vida. Se Israel não tivesse pecado, ela teria bastado; mas agora os escritos dos profetas lhe foram acrescentados mais tarde, para explicação. Todos esses escritos são divinos, santos, regra de doutrina e de vida, e de conteúdo infinito. Nada neles é supérfluo; tudo tem sentido, cada letra, cada sinal, até a forma de uma letra, pois tudo deriva de Deus. Segundo Fílon e Josefo, os profetas estavam na inspiração num estado de arrebatamento e inconsciência, que comparavam com a mântica pagã e estendiam também a outros que não os profetas; mas também neles a autoridade divina da Escritura permanece inabalável. Só que essa autoridade foi de fato novamente prejudicada pela tradição. A Escritura, com efeito, não bastava a si mesma: segundo a concepção dos judeus havia também uma tradição oral que, originada de Deus, fora transmitida por Moisés, Arão, os anciãos, os profetas e os homens da grande sinagoga aos escribas. Foi por fim consignada na Mishná e na Guemará, que agora, como norma normata, se acrescentou à norma normans e, com o auxílio sobretudo de treze regras hermenêuticas, foi posta em acordo com a Escritura.

A congregação cristã, com Jesus e os apóstolos, rejeitou toda a tradição judaica, mas desde o começo reconheceu a autoridade divina da Escritura do Antigo Testamento. A congregação nunca esteve sem Bíblia: recebeu o Antigo Testamento da mão dos apóstolos imediatamente com autoridade divina, e a fé cristã incluiu desde o princípio a fé na autoridade divina do Antigo Testamento. Clemente Romano ensina a inspiração do Antigo Testamento do modo mais claro possível: chama os escritos veterotestamentários "os oráculos de Deus" e "as Escrituras verdadeiras, dadas pelo Espírito Santo", introduz passagens com a fórmula "diz o Espírito Santo" e diz dos profetas que, como ministros da graça de Deus, falaram pelo Espírito Santo. Estende a inspiração também aos apóstolos. De resto, os padres apostólicos fornecem pouco material para o dogma da Escritura: a inspiração mesma está firme, mas sobre a extensão e os limites dela ainda há divergência; pouco se fala dos escritos do Novo Testamento, e apócrifos são por vezes citados como canônicos. Os apologistas do século II comparam os escritores a uma cítara ou flauta, de que o plectro divino se serviu como de um instrumento. A doutrina dos apóstolos está na mesma linha da dos profetas: como Abraão, cremos na voz de Deus, que nos foi falada pelos apóstolos de Cristo e proclamada pelos profetas (Justino). Em Ireneu já está presente o pleno reconhecimento da inspiração de ambos os Testamentos: as Escrituras são perfeitas, porquanto ditas por Deus e por seu Espírito; têm um só autor e um só propósito. Os padres citam as Escrituras como escritura divina, letras celestes, biblioteca santa, quirógrafo de Deus; e chamam os escritores órgãos da voz divina, boca de Deus, portadores do Espírito, inundados do Espírito divino. O ato da inspiração é representado como um impelir e conduzir, mas sobretudo e frequentemente como um ditar do Espírito Santo: os escritores eram as mãos do Espírito Santo; não eram os auctores, mas apenas scriptores, escribas; autor da Sagrada Escritura é Deus somente. A Escritura é uma carta do Deus onipotente à sua criatura (Agostinho). Nada há nela de indiferente e nada de supérfluo, mas tudo é cheio de sabedoria divina: nada há em Deus vazio nem sem sinal (Ireneu). Orígenes insistiu nisso com particular força, dizendo que nenhum til ou iota é vão e que nada há na Escritura que não desça da plenitude da majestade divina; e igualmente Jerônimo: cada palavra, sílaba, ápice e ponto nas divinas escrituras está cheio de sentidos e respira sacramentos celestes. A Sagrada Escritura era, portanto, sem defeito algum, sem erro algum, também em matéria cronológica e histórica. O que os apóstolos escreveram deve ser aceito como se o próprio Cristo o tivesse escrito, pois eles eram, por assim dizer, suas mãos. Em sua carta a Jerônimo, Agostinho diz crer firmemente que nenhum dos escritores canônicos errou ao escrever; e que, se aparece um erro, não é lícito dizer: o autor deste livro não sustentou a verdade — mas: ou o códice está defeituoso, ou o tradutor errou, ou tu não entendes. Ao mesmo tempo, porém, contra o montanismo, a autoconsciência dos escritores na inspiração foi acentuada o mais fortemente possível: investigação prévia, distinção no desenvolvimento, uso de fontes e da memória, diferença de linguagem e de estilo foram plenamente reconhecidos; alguns chegaram a supor diferença no modo de inspiração entre o Antigo e o Novo Testamento, ou diferença de grau segundo a condição moral dos escritores. Mas nada disso afetou a fé na origem divina e na autoridade divina da Sagrada Escritura, que estavam geralmente estabelecidas — e o uso prático da Escritura na pregação, na prova, no tratamento exegético prova isso ainda mais fortemente que as declarações isoladas. A igreja nesse primeiro período teve mais que ver com a fixação do cânon do que com o conceito de inspiração, mas entendia por canônicas justamente as escrituras divinas e só a estas atribuía autoridade.

5. A teologia da Idade Média ficou com os padres da igreja e não desenvolveu mais a doutrina da inspiração. João Damasceno menciona a Escritura só de passagem e diz que lei e profetas, evangelistas e apóstolos, pastores e doutores falaram pelo Espírito Santo, e que por isso a Escritura é teopneusta. Erígena diz que em todas as coisas se deve seguir a autoridade da Sagrada Escritura, porque a verdadeira autoridade não se opõe à reta razão, mas também que toda autoridade não aprovada pela verdadeira razão parece débil. Tomás não trata da doutrina da Escritura, mas dá seu pensamento sobre a inspiração na doutrina da profecia. A profecia é propriamente um dom do intelecto e consiste primeiro na inspiratio, isto é, numa elevação da mente para perceber as coisas divinas, que se dá movendo o Espírito Santo, e segundo na revelatio, pela qual as coisas divinas são conhecidas, removem-se a escuridão e a ignorância, e a própria profecia se completa. Mais particularmente, a profecia consiste no dom do lumen propheticum, pelo qual as coisas divinas se tornam visíveis, assim como as naturais pela luz natural da razão. Mas essa revelação difere: dá-se ora pela mediação dos sentidos, ora pela força da imaginação, ora também de modo puramente espiritual. A profecia por visão intelectual está em geral acima da profecia por visão imaginária; se, porém, a luz intelectual não revela coisas sobrenaturais, mas apenas faz que as coisas naturalmente cognoscíveis sejam conhecidas e julgadas de modo divino, então tal profecia intelectual fica abaixo da visão imaginária que revela verdade sobrenatural. Os autores dos hagiógrafos escreveram repetidamente sobre matérias naturalmente cognoscíveis, e então falaram não como que da pessoa de Deus, mas de sua própria pessoa, ainda que com o auxílio da luz divina. Tomás reconhece assim modos e graus diversos de inspiração; e diz também que os apóstolos, quanto ao que a arte humana acrescenta ao ornato e à elegância do discurso, estavam instruídos na própria língua, não na alheia, e que estavam suficientemente equipados de conhecimento para o seu ofício, mas não sabiam tudo o que se pode saber. Erro ou falsidade, porém, não pode ocorrer na Escritura. A discussão mais extensa sobre a Escritura é a de Boaventura no proêmio de seu Breviloquium: a Sagrada Escritura não tem sua origem na investigação humana, mas na revelação do Pai pelo Filho no Espírito Santo; ninguém a pode conhecer senão pela fé, pois Cristo é seu conteúdo; ela é coração de Deus, boca de Deus, língua de Deus, cálamo de Deus. Quatro coisas nela sobretudo importam: sua latitudo, pois contém muitas partes e gêneros de livros; sua longitudo, pois descreve todos os tempos da criação ao dia do juízo; sua sublimitas, pois descreve as diferentes hierarquias, eclesiástica, angélica, divina; e sua profunditas, pois tem multiplicidade de inteligências místicas. Por mais que a Escritura use modos diversos de falar, é sempre genuína, nada há nela de falso, pois o Espírito Santo, seu autor perfeitíssimo, nada pôde dizer de falso, nada de supérfluo, nada de diminuído.

De resto, encontramos pouco material para o dogma da Escritura na escolástica. Não se sentia necessidade de um tratamento especial do locus de Sacra Scriptura, porque sua autoridade estava firme e ninguém a contestava; ela teve na Idade Média, ao menos formalmente, um domínio incontestado. Era representada simbolicamente como a água da vida, glorificada em panegíricos, venerada como a imagem de Cristo, copiada, iluminada e encadernada do modo mais precioso, guardada como relíquia, usada como fundamento dos juramentos. E foi também muito mais lida, estudada, explicada e traduzida do que os protestantes mais tarde supuseram. Não havia combate à Escritura. Nem Abelardo diz que profetas e apóstolos erraram ao escrever, mas apenas que às vezes erraram como pessoas: a graça da profecia lhes era por vezes retirada, para que permanecessem humildes e reconhecessem que possuíam apenas como dom aquele Espírito de Deus que não sabe mentir nem enganar-se. E Agobardo de Lião tampouco é adversário da inspiração; apenas advoga uma concepção mais orgânica, que reconhece diferença de linguagem e estilo e desvios gramaticais. Eclesiasticamente, a inspiração e a autoridade da Sagrada Escritura foram repetidamente expressas e reconhecidas.

6. O concílio de Trento declarou que a verdade está contida nos livros escritos e nas tradições não escritas, recebidas da boca de Cristo pelos apóstolos ou por eles transmitidas sob o ditado do Espírito Santo, e que por isso aceita e venera todos os livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento, visto que um só Deus é autor de ambos, e igualmente as tradições, como ditadas oralmente por Cristo ou pelo Espírito Santo. A inspiração foi aqui estendida à tradição, mas nem por isso deixou de ser claramente afirmada da Sagrada Escritura. Entre os teólogos romanos, porém, logo surgiu grande divergência sobre a natureza e a extensão da inspiração; tanto o autor de ambos os testamentos quanto o ditar foram interpretados diversamente.

Os teólogos do século XVI ainda eram em geral adeptos da direção mais estrita dos padres e dos escolásticos, e ensinavam uma operação positiva do Espírito de Deus sobre os escritores, que se estendia também às palavras isoladas. Mas logo surgiu uma direção mais frouxa, e justamente entre os jesuítas. Em 1586 Lessius e Hamelius abriram suas preleções no colégio jesuíta de Lovaina e ali defenderam, entre outras, estas proposições: primeira, para que algo seja Sagrada Escritura não é necessário que cada uma de suas palavras tenha sido inspirada pelo Espírito Santo; segunda, não é necessário que cada verdade e sentença tenha sido imediatamente inspirada pelo Espírito Santo ao próprio escritor; terceira, um livro qualquer escrito por indústria humana sem a assistência do Espírito Santo torna-se Sagrada Escritura se depois o Espírito Santo testificar que nada há nele de falso. Aqui se rejeita a inspiração verbal, julga-se desnecessária a inspiração imediata de muitas matérias que os escritores conheciam, e chega-se a ter por suficiente, no caso de alguns livros, uma inspiratio subsequens, uma aprovação posterior do Espírito Santo. As faculdades de Lovaina e de Douai condenaram as proposições, outros desaprovaram a censura, e o papa não decidiu. As duas primeiras encontraram muita aceitação; a terceira foi longe demais e só por poucos foi adotada. Outra direção concebe a inspiração como assistência puramente negativa do Espírito Santo, pela qual os escritores foram preservados de erro. Ambas as direções mantinham a inerrância da Sagrada Escritura, mas identificavam esse resultado de fato com a origem divina da Escritura. Em contraste, a inerrância em matérias que não são religioso-éticas em sentido estrito foi abandonada, e a inspiração limitada ao propriamente dogmático-ético, por Erasmo e outros. Aparentada a isso é a representação que admite inspiração própria para as verdades de fé e de costumes, mas para o restante do conteúdo da Escritura apenas aquela assistência de que todos os crentes gozam. De igual teor é a concepção da escola romana de Tübingen, que, sob a influência de Schleiermacher, pôs a inspiração em conexão com todo o organismo da revelação e a fez estender-se em grau diverso às diferentes partes da Escritura.

A maioria dos teólogos romanos depois da Reforma segue um caminho intermediário. De um lado rejeitam a inspiração frouxa, que consistiria apenas em assistência negativa ou aprovação posterior, pois então todas as decisões dos concílios, então tudo o que é verdadeiro se chamaria inspirado. De outro lado negam também a estrita inspiratio verbalis, segundo a qual não só todas as matérias, mas até todas as palavras isoladas são ditadas e inspiradas, pois muitas matérias e palavras eram conhecidas dos escritores e não precisavam ser inspiradas; e a diferença de linguagem e estilo e o uso de fontes provam também a incorreção da inspiração verbal. Basta, portanto, uma inspiratio realis, que é ora revelação definida, ora assistência. O Vaticano não propôs uma teoria determinada, mas condenou decididamente a da inspiratio subsequens e a da mera assistentia, e declarou, repetida a decisão tridentina, que a igreja reconhece esses livros como santos e canônicos não porque, compostos por mera indústria humana, tenham depois sido aprovados por sua autoridade, nem porque contenham a revelação sem erro, mas porque, escritos sob a inspiração do Espírito Santo, têm a Deus por autor e como tais foram entregues à própria igreja. Essa decisão nada deixa a desejar em clareza: a igreja romana concebe a inspiração como operação positiva do Espírito de Deus e sustenta firmemente a infalibilidade da Escritura; e a encíclica de Leão XIII sobre os estudos bíblicos está escrita nessa mesma fé.

7. Os reformadores aceitaram a Escritura e sua teopneustia tais como a igreja lhas transmitira. Lutero, de seu ponto de vista soteriológico, emitiu aqui e ali juízo desfavorável sobre alguns livros — Ester, Esdras, Neemias, Tiago, Judas, Apocalipse — e concedeu inexatidões menores, mas por outro lado sustentou a inspiração no sentido mais estrito e a estendeu até às letras. Os símbolos luteranos não têm artigo próprio sobre a Escritura, mas pressupõem por toda parte sua origem e autoridade divinas; e os dogmáticos luteranos têm a mesma visão: já Gerardo, e não apenas Quenstedt e Calovius, chama os escritores amanuenses de Deus, mãos de Cristo e tabeliães ou notários do Espírito Santo. Entre os reformados encontramos a mesma doutrina. Zuínglio põe muitas vezes a palavra externa atrás da interna, concede inexatidões históricas e cronológicas e às vezes estende a inspiração a escritores pagãos. Mas Calvino tem a Escritura, no sentido pleno e literal, por palavra de Deus; não reconhece a Epístola aos Hebreus como paulina, mas sim como canônica, e admite um erro em Mateus, não porém nos autógrafos. As confissões reformadas em geral têm um artigo sobre a Sagrada Escritura e exprimem claramente sua autoridade divina, e os teólogos reformados adotam todos, sem distinção, esse mesmo ponto de vista.

Numa ou noutra ocasião percebe-se uma tentativa tímida de visão mais orgânica: a inspiração nem sempre consistia em revelação, mas, quando se tratava de matérias conhecidas, em assistência e direção; os escritores nem sempre eram passivos, mas também ativos, de modo que usavam o próprio entendimento, memória, juízo e estilo, mas de tal maneira que eram conduzidos pelo Espírito Santo e preservados de erro. Nem por isso, porém, se causava o mínimo detrimento à divindade e à infalibilidade da Escritura. Os escritores não eram auctores, mas scriptores, amanuenses, notários, mãos e cálamos de Deus. A inspiração não era negativa, mas sempre positiva: um impulsus ad scribendum e uma suggestio rerum et verborum. Comunicava não só matérias desconhecidas, mas também as já conhecidas, pois os escritores tinham então de conhecê-las precisamente agora e precisamente assim, não só materialmente mas também formalmente, não só humanamente mas também divinamente. A inspiração estendia-se a todas as matérias cronológicas, históricas e geográficas, às palavras, até às vogais e aos sinais. Barbarismos e solecismos não eram admitidos na Sagrada Escritura, e a diferença de estilo era explicada pela vontade do Espírito Santo, que ora quis escrever de um modo, ora de outro. Materialmente, quanto às letras, sílabas e palavras, a Escritura é do gênero das criaturas; mas formalmente, quanto ao sentido teopneusto, é erradamente contada entre as criaturas, pois é a mente, o conselho, a sabedoria de Deus. Em 1714 escreveu-se em Gota uma dissertação sobre a questão de saber se a própria Sagrada Escritura seria Deus.

8. Mas quando a teoria da inspiração, como também entre os judeus e os maometanos, havia tirado sua última consequência, ergueu-se oposição de todos os lados. Já em tempos anteriores não faltou crítica da Escritura. Jeoiaquim queimou o rolo de Baruque. Ápion resumiu todas as acusações que os pagãos levantavam contra os judeus. Os gnósticos, os maniqueus e as seitas aparentadas na Idade Média arrancaram o Novo Testamento do Velho e atribuíram este a um deus inferior, o demiurgo. Sobretudo Márcion, partindo da antítese paulina entre justiça e graça, lei e evangelho, obras e fé, carne e espírito, dirigiu seu ataque contra os antropomorfismos, as contradições e a imoralidade do Antigo Testamento, e disse que um Deus que se ira, se arrepende, se vinga, tem ciúme, ordena o roubo e a mentira, desce e dá uma lei estrita não pode ser o Deus verdadeiro; apontava de preferência para a grande diferença entre Cristo, o verdadeiro Messias, e o Messias tal como os profetas o esperavam; e do Novo Testamento rejeitou todos os escritos exceto os de Lucas e de Paulo, corrompendo-os ainda por abreviação e interpolação. Celso continuou essa luta com argúcia e entregou uma crítica cortante dos primeiros capítulos do Gênesis e das narrativas dos milagres, acusando Jesus e os apóstolos, à falta de explicação melhor, de engano. Porfírio começou a crítica histórica dos livros da Bíblia: contestou a exegese alegórica do Antigo Testamento, atribuiu o Pentateuco a Esdras, considerou Daniel um produto do tempo de Antíoco e submeteu também muitas narrativas dos Evangelhos a crítica aguda. Juliano renovou mais tarde todos esses ataques. Mas com isso se alcançou o fim da crítica daquele tempo: a Escritura chegou a domínio geral e incontestado, e a crítica foi esquecida. Reviveu no Renascimento, foi por algum tempo contida pela Reforma e pela contrarreforma romana, e logo tornou a levantar-se no racionalismo, no deísmo e na filosofia francesa. A princípio dirigiu-se mais contra o conteúdo da Escritura, no século XVIII racional; depois mais contra a autenticidade dos escritos, no século XIX de inclinação histórica. Porfírio substitui Celso, Renan segue a Voltaire, Paulus de Heidelberg cede lugar a Strauss e a Baur. Mas o resultado permanece sempre o mesmo: a Escritura é um livro cheio de erro e de falsidade.

Em consequência dessa crítica, muitos modificaram a doutrina da inspiração. De início a inspiração ainda é mantida como operação sobrenatural do Espírito Santo no escrever, mas limitada ao religioso-ético; no cronológico e no histórico é enfraquecida ou negada, de modo que aqui podem ocorrer erros maiores ou menores. A Palavra de Deus deve ser distinguida da Sagrada Escritura. Assim já ensinavam os socinianos: os escritores do Antigo e do Novo Testamento escreveram impelidos pelo Espírito divino e sob seu ditado, mas o Antigo Testamento só tem valor histórico, só a doutrina é imediatamente inspirada, no restante é possível errar levemente. Os remonstrantes adotaram o mesmo ponto de vista: reconhecem a inspiração, mas admitem que os escritores por vezes se exprimiram menos exata e precisamente, ou erraram nas circunstâncias da fé, ou ainda — mais fortemente — que nos livros históricos não precisavam de inspiração nem a receberam.

Mas essa teoria esbarrou em muitas objeções. A separação entre o que é necessário à salvação e o histórico acidental é impossível, porque doutrina e história na Escritura estão inteiramente entretecidas. Faz injustiça à consciência dos escritores, que de modo algum limitam sua autoridade ao religioso-ético, mas a estendem a todo o conteúdo de seus escritos. E está em conflito com o uso da Escritura por Jesus, pelos apóstolos e por toda a igreja cristã. Essa concepção dualista cedeu por isso lugar a outra, a dinâmica, de Schleiermacher. Consiste em transferir a teopneustia do domínio intelectual para o ético. A inspiração não é em primeiro lugar propriedade da Escritura, mas dos escritores: eram homens nascidos de novo, santos; viviam na proximidade de Jesus, sofriam sua influência, moviam-se no círculo santo da revelação e foram assim renovados também em seu pensar e falar. A inspiração é propriedade habitual dos escritores; e disso participam também seus escritos, que trazem igualmente caráter novo e santo. Mas essa inspiração dos escritores não se distingue essencialmente, e sim apenas gradualmente, da de todos os crentes, pois todos os crentes são conduzidos pelo Espírito Santo. Tampouco pode ser concebida mecanicamente, como se fosse apenas de quando em quando e em alguns assuntos a porção dos escritores: a Palavra de Deus não está contida na Escritura mecanicamente, como o quadro na moldura, mas penetra e anima todas as partes da Escritura, como a alma todos os membros do corpo. Nem todas as partes, porém, participam dessa inspiração em igual medida: quanto mais perto algo está do centro da revelação, tanto mais respira também o Espírito de Deus. A Escritura é, portanto, ao mesmo tempo livro divino e humano; de um lado contém a mais alta verdade e, contudo, é ao mesmo tempo fraca, falível, imperfeita; não a revelação mesma, mas o documento da revelação; não a palavra de Deus mesma, mas descrição dessa palavra; defeituosa em muitos respeitos, mas ainda assim instrumento suficiente para chegarmos a um conhecimento infalível da revelação. E, finalmente, não é a Escritura, mas a pessoa de Cristo, ou a revelação em geral, o principium da teologia. Naturalmente essa teoria admite muitíssimas modificações — a teopneustia pode ser posta em conexão mais ou menos íntima com a revelação, a operação do Espírito pode ser concebida mais ou menos positivamente, a possibilidade de erro pode ser concedida mais ou menos largamente. Mas os pensamentos fundamentais permanecem os mesmos: a inspiração é em primeiro lugar propriedade dos escritores e só depois de seus escritos; não é ato momentâneo nem dom especial do Espírito Santo, mas propriedade habitual; e opera tão dinamicamente que a possibilidade de erro não está excluída em todas as partes. Essa teoria substituiu quase inteiramente a antiga doutrina da inspiração; poucos são os teólogos que não a adotaram no essencial.

Mas essa teoria não satisfaz nem à congregação nem à assim chamada ciência. As objeções críticas contra a Escritura não dizem respeito à periferia, mas ao próprio centro da revelação. Por isso outros foram ainda mais longe e negaram toda inspiração como operação sobrenatural do Espírito de Deus. A Bíblia é uma coleção acidental de escritos humanos, ainda que escritos por homens de profunda disposição religiosa e surgidos num povo que pode ser chamado por excelência o povo da religião. De revelação e de inspiração só se fala então em sentido figurado; quando muito, cabe notar uma direção especial da providência geral de Deus na origem e na coleção desses escritos; a inspiração só gradualmente difere da animação religiosa de que todos os piedosos participam. É notável, contudo, que todos esses homens continuem a reconhecer até certo ponto o valor religioso da Escritura: veem nela não só uma fonte para o conhecimento de Israel e do cristianismo primitivo, mas procuram ainda mantê-la como meio de graça para o cultivo da vida religioso-ética. Nisso se distinguem favoravelmente de todos os radicais, que ajustaram por completo as contas com a Escritura, sacudiram toda piedade para com ela e nada mais lhe reservam senão escárnio e desprezo — nos primeiros séculos Celso e Luciano; no fim da Idade Média a blasfêmia dos três impostores; no século XVIII Voltaire, que desde 1760 não teve outro nome para o cristianismo senão l'infâme e desde 1764 assinava quase sempre suas cartas com écrasez l'infâme; e neste século essa hostilidade contra Cristo e sua palavra ainda cresceu e se expandiu.

Diante de todas essas direções mais ou menos negativas, a inspiração da Escritura em sentido positivo e pleno é ainda neste século reconhecida e defendida, além dos teólogos católicos romanos, por Kuyper e da Costa nos Países Baixos, por Gaussen e Merle d'Aubigné na França e na Suíça, por Philippi e Vilmar na Alemanha, e por Hodge, Shedd e Warfield na América.

C. A inspiração segundo a Escritura

9. O Antigo Testamento fornece para a doutrina da inspiração os seguintes momentos importantes.

a) Os profetas sabem-se chamados pelo Senhor num momento determinado de sua vida (Ex 3; 1 Sm 3; Is 6; Jr 1; Ez 1-3). O chamado ia muitas vezes contra o próprio desejo e vontade deles, mas Jahvé foi mais forte. Em Israel era geral a convicção de que os profetas eram mensageiros de Deus, por ele suscitados e enviados, seus servos, que estão diante de sua face.

b) Têm consciência de que Jahvé lhes falou e de que dele receberam a revelação. Ele lhes ensina o que hão de falar, põe as palavras em sua boca, fala-lhes. Usa-se sobretudo a fórmula: assim diz o Senhor, ou: veio a mim a palavra do Senhor — expressão de que toda a Escritura do Antigo Testamento está cheia e pela qual o discurso profético é a cada passo introduzido. Jahvé é repetidamente apresentado falando na primeira pessoa. É propriamente ele quem fala por meio deles, quem fala por sua boca, por seu ministério. Toda a palavra deles está coberta pela autoridade de Jahvé.

c) Essa consciência é nos profetas tão clara e firme que eles chegam a indicar o lugar e o tempo em que Jahvé lhes falou e a distinguir entre os tempos em que ele lhes falou e aqueles em que não lhes falou. E é tão objetiva que se distinguem claramente de Jahvé: ele lhes fala, e eles escutam com os ouvidos e veem com os olhos e recebem em si as palavras de Jahvé.

d) Daí fazerem contraste agudo entre o que Deus lhes revelou e o que sobe do próprio coração. Aos falsos profetas imputam justamente isto: que falam do próprio coração, sem serem enviados, de modo que são profetas de mentira e adivinhos.

e) Os profetas têm, finalmente, consciência de proclamar, ao falar ou escrever, não a própria palavra, mas a palavra do Senhor. Ademais, a palavra não lhes foi revelada para si mesmos, mas para outros; não tinham liberdade para escondê-la; têm de falar, e por isso não falam segundo o favor ou o cálculo humano. Por isso são precisamente profetas, faladores em nome de Jahvé e de sua palavra. E sabem com isso que devem dar tudo o que receberam, sem tirar nem acrescentar. Do mesmo impulso se há de derivar também o escrever dos profetas. Os textos em que se dá literalmente uma ordem de escrever são poucos (Ex 17; Is 8; Jr 30) e referem-se apenas a uma porção muito pequena da Escritura do Antigo Testamento. Mas o registro escrito é um estágio posterior, ainda que necessário, na história do profetismo. Muitas profecias certamente nunca foram faladas, mas destinavam-se de fato a ser lidas e ponderadas; a maioria é trabalhada com cuidado, mesmo com arte, e já pela forma mostra que se destina à escrita. O registro dos oráculos foi guiado pelo pensamento de que Israel já não seria salvo por atos, e de que agora e em gerações distantes o serviço de Jahvé teria de encontrar entrada pela palavra e pela persuasão racional. Foram ao escrever porque queriam dirigir-se a outros além dos que os podiam ouvir.

f) Entre a palavra recebida e a palavra falada ou escrita há diferença. Nada haveria de degradante para os profetas se tivessem registrado a palavra recebida o mais literalmente possível. Mas a revelação continuava também no momento da teopneustia e modificava e completava a revelação anterior, e assim ela era livremente reproduzida. Precisamente por isso, porém, os profetas reivindicam para a palavra escrita a mesma autoridade que para a palavra falada. Nem sequer as observações intercaladas do profeta entre as palavras mesmas de Jahvé, ou a elaboração de uma palavra de Jahvé pelo profeta, constituem exceção. A transição da palavra de Jahvé para a palavra do profeta e vice-versa é muitas vezes tão súbita, e ambas estão de tal modo entretecidas, que a separação não é possível; têm a mesma autoridade. Isaías chama as suas próprias profecias registradas o Livro de Jahvé.

g) Os profetas não derivam sua revelação da lei. Ainda que de seus escritos não se possa determinar a extensão da tora, a profecia pressupõe uma tora. Todos os profetas estão sobre o fundamento de uma lei; põem-se com seus adversários sobre uma base comum. Todos pressupõem uma aliança concluída por Deus com Israel, uma eleição graciosa de Israel. Os profetas não foram os criadores de uma nova religião, de um monoteísmo ético; nunca falam de tal oposição entre a sua religião e a do povo. Reconhecem que o povo, por quase todos os séculos, se fez culpado de idolatria; mas veem nisso sempre e uniformemente infidelidade e apostasia, partindo do fato de que o povo sabia melhor. Ligam-se com o povo à mesma revelação, à mesma história; falam da convicção de que têm em comum com o povo o mesmo serviço de Deus, de que Jahvé os escolheu e chamou para o seu serviço. Nisso encontram sua força, e por isso provam o povo pela relação de direito existente entre ele e Jahvé. A tora não designa apenas a instrução de Deus em geral, mas é muitas vezes também o nome da revelação de Jahvé já existente e objetiva. A aliança de Deus com Israel, sobre cujo fundamento os profetas estão com todo o povo, inclui naturalmente também toda sorte de estatutos e direitos, e por isso os profetas falam repetidamente de mandamentos, estatutos e direitos. Essa tora deve ter contido a doutrina da unidade de Jahvé, de sua criação e governo de todas as coisas, a proibição da idolatria e outros mandamentos religiosos e morais, e ainda toda sorte de componentes cerimoniais — sábado, sacrifício, pureza — e históricos — criação, êxodo do Egito, conclusão da aliança. Sobre a extensão da tora anterior ao profetismo pode haver divergência; mas a relação de lei e profetas não pode ser invertida sem entrar em conflito com toda a história de Israel e com a essência do profetismo. O profeta em Israel foi, por assim dizer, a voz viva da lei e o mediador de seu cumprimento. A crítica mais negativa vê-se compelida a aceitar ainda como históricos a personalidade de Moisés e seu monoteísmo, a permanência no Egito, o êxodo, a conquista de Canaã, embora com sua crítica do Pentateuco lhe falte todo fundamento para isso.

h) É de antemão provável que, num povo há tanto tempo familiarizado com a arte de escrever, a lei já existisse desde cedo em forma escrita. Essa tora teve desde o começo autoridade em Israel; de dúvida ou contestação nada se sabe. Moisés ocupou entre todos os profetas lugar inteiramente único: esteve para com Jahvé em relação especial, o Senhor falava com ele como um amigo com o seu amigo; foi o mediador do Antigo Testamento. Em toda parte a lei atribui a si mesma origem divina: é Jahvé quem por Moisés deu a tora a Israel. Não só as dez palavras e o Livro da Aliança, mas também todas as demais leis são derivadas de um falar de Deus a Moisés; a cada passo ocorre nas leis do Pentateuco a fórmula o Senhor disse ou falou a Moisés, com que quase todo capítulo começa. E o Deuteronômio não quer dar senão o que Moisés falou aos filhos de Israel.

i) Os livros históricos do Antigo Testamento foram todos escritos por profetas e em espírito profético. Os profetas, em seus discursos e escritos, não só se referem repetidamente à história de Israel, mas são também eles que a preservaram, editaram e entregaram a nós. Não pretendem, porém, de modo algum fornecer-nos uma narrativa fiel e conexa da sorte do povo israelita, como visam outros historiadores. Também nos livros históricos os profetas se põem sobre o fundamento da tora e consideram e descrevem a história de Israel do ponto de vista dela. Os livros históricos são o comentário em fatos da aliança de Deus com Israel. Não são história em nosso sentido, mas profecia, e querem ser julgados por outro padrão que os livros de história dos outros povos. Não lhes importa que obtenhamos conhecimento exato da história de Israel, mas que compreendamos na história de Israel a revelação de Deus, seu pensamento e seu conselho. Os profetas são sempre proclamadores da palavra de Jahvé, tanto quando olham para trás na história quanto quando olham para diante, no futuro.

j) Quanto aos livros poéticos em sentido estrito, todos, como os demais escritos do Antigo Testamento, trazem caráter religioso-ético: pressupõem a revelação de Deus como seu fundamento objetivo e mostram o efeito e a aplicação dessa revelação nos diferentes estados e relações da vida humana — o Eclesiastes esboça a vaidade do mundo diante do temor do Senhor; Jó ocupa-se do problema da justiça de Deus e do sofrimento do piedoso; os Provérbios pintam a verdadeira sabedoria em sua aplicação à vida; o Cântico canta a intimidade e o poder do amor; e os Salmos nos mostram, no espelho das experiências dos piedosos de Deus, a graça multiforme. A poesia lírica e didática entra em Israel a serviço da revelação de Deus: Davi, o suave em cânticos de Israel, falou pelo Espírito de Jahvé, e sua palavra estava em sua língua.

k) À medida que os vários escritos do Antigo Testamento surgiam e se tornavam conhecidos, eram também reconhecidos como autoritativos. As leis de Jahvé eram depositadas no santuário; as produções poéticas eram conservadas; os Salmos foram cedo coligidos para uso do culto; dos Provérbios os homens de Ezequias já fizeram uma segunda coleção. As profecias eram muito lidas: Ezequiel conhece Isaías e Jeremias, e os profetas posteriores apelam para os anteriores. Daniel já conhece uma coleção de escritos proféticos. Na comunidade pós-exílica a autoridade da lei e das profecias está firme. Jesus ben Sirac põe lei e profetas muito alto, e seu neto menciona no prefácio as três partes em que a Escritura se divide. A Septuaginta contém vários escritos apócrifos, mas estes mesmos testemunham da autoridade dos livros canônicos. Fílon cita apenas livros canônicos; o quarto livro de Esdras conhece a divisão em vinte e quatro livros; Josefo conta vinte e dois livros em três partes. Por consenso de todos, o cânon do Antigo Testamento de Fílon e de Josefo era como o nosso.

10. Esse cânon do Antigo Testamento possuía, para Jesus e os apóstolos e para os seus contemporâneos, autoridade divina, como se evidencia dos seguintes dados.

a) A fórmula com que o Antigo Testamento é citado no Novo é diversa, mas prova sempre que o Antigo Testamento é para os escritores do Novo de origem divina e traz autoridade divina. Jesus cita por vezes uma passagem com o nome do escritor — de Moisés, de Isaías, de Davi, de Daniel —, mas cita também muitíssimo com a fórmula está escrito, ou diz a Escritura, ou ainda segundo o auctor primarius, isto é, Deus ou o Espírito Santo. Os evangelistas empregam frequentemente a expressão o que foi dito pelo profeta, ou pelo Senhor, ou pelo Espírito Santo. Paulo fala sempre da Escritura, que às vezes é apresentada de modo inteiramente pessoal (Gl 3,8). A Epístola aos Hebreus nomeia as mais das vezes Deus ou o Espírito Santo como auctor primarius. Esse modo de citar ensina clara e distintamente que a Escritura do Antigo Testamento formava, para Jesus e os apóstolos, embora composta de partes diversas e proveniente de escritores diversos, um só todo orgânico, que tinha o próprio Deus por autor.

b) Mais de uma vez essa autoridade divina da Escritura do Antigo Testamento é também decididamente expressa e ensinada por Jesus e pelos apóstolos (Jo 10,35; 2 Tm 3,16; 2 Pe 1,21). A Escritura é uma unidade que não pode ser quebrada nem destruída, nem em seu todo nem em suas partes. No último texto citado, a tradução "toda Escritura teopneusta é também útil" tropeça na objeção de que então não poderia faltar o verbo depois de "útil"; e a tradução "todo escrito, em geral, é teopneusto e útil" está excluída pela natureza do caso. Resta, portanto, apenas a escolha entre "toda a Escritura" e "cada Escritura", a saber, aquela que está compreendida nas sagradas letras do versículo anterior — o que no fundo não dá diferença, tanto mais que "todo" sem artigo parece também poder significar "a totalidade".

c) Nunca Jesus ou os apóstolos se põem criticamente diante do conteúdo do Antigo Testamento, mas o aceitam inteiramente e sem reservas. Em todas as partes — não só nas sentenças religioso-éticas ou naqueles lugares em que o próprio Deus fala, mas também em seus componentes históricos — a Escritura do Antigo Testamento é por eles incondicionalmente reconhecida como verdadeira e divina. Jesus tem Isaías 54 por proveniente de Isaías, o Salmo 110 por davídico, e atribui a lei a Moisés. As narrativas históricas do Antigo Testamento são repetidamente citadas e incondicionalmente cridas: a criação do homem, o dilúvio, a história dos patriarcas, a destruição de Sodoma, a sarça ardente, o maná, Jonas.

d) Dogmaticamente, o Antigo Testamento é para Jesus e os apóstolos sedes doctrinae, fons solutionum, o fim de toda contradição. O Antigo Testamento cumpre-se no Novo. Mais de uma vez se apresenta como se tudo tivesse acontecido com o propósito de cumprir a Sagrada Escritura — para que se cumprisse o que fora dito. Até nos pequenos pormenores esse cumprimento é observado; tudo o que aconteceu a Jesus fora antes descrito no Antigo Testamento. Jesus e os apóstolos justificam sua conduta e provam sua doutrina repetidamente com apelo ao Antigo Testamento. E essa autoridade divina da Escritura vai para eles tão longe que até uma só palavra, e mesmo um til e um iota, está por ela coberta (Mt 5,17; Jo 10,35; Gl 3,16).

e) Não obstante, o Antigo Testamento é no Novo citado em geral segundo a tradução grega dos Setenta: os escritores do Novo Testamento, escrevendo em grego e para leitores gregos, usaram comumente a tradução que a estes era conhecida e acessível. As citações dividem-se em três grupos quanto à sua relação com o texto hebraico e com a tradução grega: em alguns textos há desvio dos Setenta e concordância com o hebraico; em outros, inversamente, concordância com os Setenta e desvio do hebraico; num terceiro grupo há desvio mais ou menos importante de ambos. Merece nota ainda que alguns livros do Antigo Testamento — Esdras, Neemias, Obadias, Naum, Sofonias, Ester, Eclesiastes e Cântico — nunca são citados no Novo; que livros apocrifos de fato não são citados, mas em alguns lugares se mencionam nomes e fatos que não ocorrem no Antigo Testamento; e que umas poucas vezes se citam também clássicos gregos.

f) Quanto ao uso material do Antigo Testamento no Novo, também nele há grande diferença. Às vezes as citações servem de prova e confirmação de alguma verdade. Muitíssimas vezes o Antigo Testamento é citado como prova de que devia cumprir-se no Novo e de que se cumpriu, seja em sentido literal, seja em sentido típico. Mais de uma vez as citações servem simplesmente para elucidação, explicação, admoestação ou consolo. Nesse uso somos muitas vezes surpreendidos pelo sentido que os escritores do Novo Testamento encontram no texto do Antigo. Essa exegese pressupõe em Jesus e nos apóstolos o pensamento de que uma palavra ou uma sentença pode ter sentido muito mais profundo e alcance muito mais largo do que o escritor suspeitava ou nela pôs. Isso também se dá mais de uma vez com escritores clássicos: ninguém pensará que Goethe, ao escrever sua poesia, tivesse diante do espírito tudo o que hoje nela se encontra. Com a Escritura o caso se dá em grau muito mais forte, porque, segundo a convicção de Jesus e de seus apóstolos, ela tem o Espírito Santo por auctor primarius e traz caráter teleológico. Não apenas nos poucos lugares mencionados, mas em toda a concepção e interpretação do Antigo Testamento, o Novo é sustentado pelo pensamento de que o israelítico tem seu cumprimento no cristão. Toda a economia do Antigo Testamento, com todas as suas instituições e direitos e em toda a sua história, aponta para diante, para a dispensação da Nova Aliança. Não o talmudismo, mas o cristianismo é o herdeiro de direito dos tesouros da salvação prometidos a Abraão e à sua semente.

11. Para a inspiração do Novo Testamento encontramos nos escritos dos apóstolos os seguintes dados.

a) O testemunho de Jesus vale em todo o Novo Testamento como divino, verdadeiro, infalível. Ele é o Logos que declara o Pai, a testemunha fiel e verdadeira, o Amém, em quem todas as promessas de Deus são sim e amém. Não houve engano em sua boca. Não fala do que é seu, como Satanás, que é mentiroso, mas Deus fala por ele; é enviado por Deus e nada fala senão o que viu e ouviu; fala as palavras de Deus e testemunha somente a verdade. Não só é Jesus santo e sem pecado em sentido ético, mas é também intelectualmente sem erro, sem mentira e sem engano. É perfeitamente verdade que Jesus, em sentido mais estrito, não se moveu no campo da ciência: veio à terra para nos declarar o Pai e realizar sua obra. Mas a inspiração da Escritura, de que Jesus fala, não é um problema científico, e sim uma verdade religiosa. Se nisso ele errou, enganou-se num ponto estreitíssimamente ligado à vida religiosa, e não pode mais ser reconhecido como nosso mais alto profeta também em religião e teologia. A doutrina da autoridade divina da Sagrada Escritura constitui parte importante das palavras de Deus que Jesus proclamou. Essa infalibilidade não era nele, porém, dom extraordinário e sobrenatural, nem donum gratiae, nem actus transiens, mas hábito, natureza. Se Jesus tivesse escrito algo, não teria por isso precisado de assistência especial do Espírito Santo: não precisava de inspiração como dom extraordinário, porque não recebeu o Espírito por medida, era o Logos, e nele habitava corporalmente a plenitude de Deus.

b) Jesus, porém, nada nos deixou por escrito, e ele mesmo partiu. Tinha, pois, de cuidar de que o seu testemunho verdadeiro fosse entregue à humanidade inalterado e puro. Para isso escolhe os apóstolos. O apostolado é um ofício extraordinário e um serviço inteiramente especial na igreja de Jesus. Os apóstolos são dados a ele pelo Pai, escolhidos por ele mesmo, e por ele preparados e habilitados de toda maneira para a tarefa futura. Essa tarefa consistia em que, logo depois da partida de Jesus, deviam comparecer como testemunhas. Tinham sido testemunhas oculares e auriculares das palavras e obras de Jesus; tinham contemplado com os olhos e apalpado com as mãos o Verbo da vida, e deviam agora levar esse testemunho a Israel e ao mundo inteiro. Mas todo homem é falso, só Deus é verdadeiro. Também os apóstolos eram inaptos para essa tarefa de testemunhar; não eram, pois, as testemunhas propriamente ditas: Jesus se serve deles apenas como instrumentos. A testemunha propriamente dita, fiel e verdadeira como ele mesmo, é o Espírito Santo. Ele é o Espírito da verdade e testemunhará de Jesus, e só depois dele e por meio dele podem os apóstolos comparecer como testemunhas. Esse Espírito é, portanto, em sentido especial prometido e concedido aos apóstolos. Sobretudo João 14,26 ensina isso claramente: o Espírito Santo vos fará lembrar de tudo quanto vos disse. Ele tomará a seu serviço os discípulos com suas pessoas e dons, com sua memória e seu juízo. Materialmente nada acrescentará de novo à revelação que já não esteja contida na pessoa, na palavra e na obra de Cristo, pois tudo toma de Cristo e nessa medida apenas traz os apóstolos à lembrança, conduzindo-os por esse caminho a toda a verdade. E esse testemunho do Espírito Santo pela boca dos apóstolos é a glorificação de Jesus, assim como o testemunho de Jesus foi glorificação do Pai.

c) Equipados com esse Espírito em sentido especial, os apóstolos comparecem também publicamente, depois do dia de Pentecostes, como testemunhas. No testemunhar do que viram e ouviram está o significado do apostolado: para isso são chamados e habilitados, disso derivam sua autoridade, a isso apelam diante da contestação e da oposição. E Deus, por sua vez, apõe ao testemunho deles o seu selo por sinais e prodígios e por bênção espiritual. Os apóstolos são desde o princípio, por direito próprio, os condutores da igreja de Jerusalém, têm supervisão sobre os crentes, visitam as igrejas, tomam decisões no Espírito Santo e gozam de autoridade geralmente reconhecida. Falam e agem em virtude da autoridade de Cristo. E, embora Jesus em parte alguma tenha dado ordem expressa de registrar também por escrito suas palavras e obras — só no Apocalipse há repetidamente menção de uma ordem de escrever —, os apóstolos falam ao escrever com a mesma autoridade: escrever é uma forma particular de testemunhar. Também escrevendo são testemunhas de Cristo, e seu testemunho é fiel e verdadeiro.

d) Entre os apóstolos, Paulo ocupa lugar à parte. Vê-se obrigado a defender seu apostolado contra os judaizantes. Diante dessa contestação sustenta que foi separado desde o ventre materno, chamado para apóstolo pelo próprio Jesus, que viu pessoalmente o próprio Jesus, que foi julgado digno de revelações e visões, que recebeu seu Evangelho do próprio Jesus e é, portanto, tão bem quanto os demais apóstolos, testemunha independente e fidedigna, especialmente entre os gentios; e que também seu apostolado foi confirmado por prodígios e sinais e por bênção espiritual. Tem por isso consciência de que não há outro evangelho senão o seu, de que é fiel, de que tem o Espírito de Deus, de que Cristo fala por ele, de que anuncia a palavra de Deus, e isso até nas expressões e nas palavras — e não só quando fala, mas também quando escreve. Como os demais apóstolos, comparece mais de uma vez com autoridade apostólica e dá ordens obrigatórias. Apela uma única vez para o juízo da igreja, não porém para submeter sua sentença à aprovação ou desaprovação dela, mas ao contrário para ser justificado pela consciência e pelo juízo da igreja, que afinal também tem o Espírito de Deus e a unção do Santo. Tão pouco se faz Paulo com isso dependente do juízo da igreja, que diz em 1 Coríntios 14,37 que, se alguém pensa ser profeta e ter o Espírito, isso se mostrará justamente em que reconheça que o que Paulo escreve são mandamentos do Senhor.

e) Esses escritos dos apóstolos tiveram desde o princípio autoridade nas igrejas em que eram conhecidos. Foram logo divulgados e receberam com isso autoridade cada vez mais extensa. Os Evangelhos sinóticos mostram tão grande afinidade que um deve ter sido conhecido, no todo ou em parte, do outro. Judas é conhecido de Pedro, e 2 Pedro 3,16 já conhece muitas cartas de Paulo e as põe na mesma linha das demais Escrituras. Gradualmente vieram traduções de escritos do Novo Testamento para a leitura pública na igreja, que já na primeira metade do século II devem ter existido. Deles se faz já uso dogmático em Atenágoras, e Teófilo cita textos de Paulo com a fórmula: ensina, ordena a divina palavra. Ireneu, Tertuliano, a Peshitta e o fragmento de Muratori põem fora de toda dúvida que, na segunda metade do século II, a maioria dos escritos do Novo Testamento tinha autoridade canônica e gozava de dignidade igual à dos livros do Antigo. Sobre alguns livros — Tiago, Judas, 2 Pedro, 2 e 3 João — permaneceu divergência; mas as objeções contra esses antilegomena foram-se tornando cada vez menores no século III, e os sínodos de Laodiceia em 360, de Hipona em 393 e de Cartago em 397 puderam incluí-los e fechar o cânon. Essas decisões da igreja não foram ato arbitrário e autoritário, mas apenas codificação e registro do direito que a respeito desses escritos havia muito já existia nas igrejas. O cânon não é formado por uma decisão de concílios: o cânon não foi produzido pelos homens num único ato, como dizem, mas pouco a pouco por Deus, que rege os ânimos e os tempos. Na importante disputa de Harnack e Zahn sobre a história do cânon do Novo Testamento, Harnack põe sem dúvida ênfase demasiado unilateral no estabelecimento formal do dogma da Escritura neotestamentária; muito antes que isso ocorresse, na segunda metade do século II, os escritos do Novo Testamento haviam chegado, pela autoridade dos apóstolos e pela leitura pública na igreja, a autoridade geralmente reconhecida. É para esse processo interno que Zahn com muita razão chama a atenção.

f) Que princípios guiaram a igreja, tanto sob o Antigo como sob o Novo Testamento, nesse reconhecimento da canonicidade, não se pode determinar com certeza. A origem apostólica não pode ter sido o fator decisivo, pois também Marcos, Lucas e Hebreus estão incluídos. Nem tem o reconhecimento da canonicidade seu fundamento no fato de não existirem outros escritos sobre Cristo, pois Lucas menciona muitos outros e, segundo Ireneu, havia uma multidão incontável de escritos apócrifos e espúrios. O princípio da formação do cânon tampouco pode estar no tamanho e na importância, pois 2 e 3 João são pequeníssimas; nem no conhecimento pessoal dos escritores com os apóstolos, pois cartas de Clemente e de Barnabé não foram incluídas; nem tampouco na originalidade, pois Mateus, Marcos e Lucas, Éfeso e Colossos, Judas e 2 Pedro dependem um do outro. Nada mais se pode dizer senão que o reconhecimento desses escritos se deu por si mesmo em todas as igrejas, sem acordo algum. Com poucas exceções, os escritos do Antigo e do Novo Testamento foram, desde a sua origem, em sua totalidade, sem uma palavra de dúvida ou de protesto, aceitos como escritos santos e divinos. Não se pode indicar o lugar nem o tempo em que primeiro lhes foi atribuída autoridade. A canonicidade dos livros da Bíblia está enraizada em sua existência: têm autoridade por si mesmos, por direito próprio, porque estão aí. É o Espírito do Senhor quem guiou na escrita e quem os trouxe ao reconhecimento na igreja.

12. O resultado desta investigação sobre a doutrina da Escritura acerca de si mesma pode resumir-se assim: ela se sustenta e se apresenta como a palavra de Deus. A expressão palavra de Deus ou palavra do Senhor tem na Escritura significados diversos. Muitas vezes designa o poder de Deus pelo qual ele cria e sustenta todas as coisas (Gn 1,3; Sl 33,6). Depois, assim se chama a revelação especial pela qual Deus dá algo a conhecer aos profetas: no Antigo Testamento a expressão ocorre nesse sentido em quase todas as páginas — a cada passo se diz ali que a palavra do Senhor veio a alguém; no Novo Testamento encontramo-la nesse sentido apenas em João 10,35, pois a palavra já não vem de cima e de fora aos profetas: veio a ser em Cristo e permanece. Além disso, palavra de Deus significa o conteúdo da revelação; fala-se então da palavra ou das palavras de Deus ao lado dos direitos, leis, mandamentos e estatutos dados a Israel, e no Novo Testamento assim se chama o Evangelho, revelado por Deus em Cristo e proclamado pelos apóstolos. Não é improvável que o nome palavra de Deus seja ainda usado uma ou outra vez para designar a lei escrita, isto é, uma porção da Escritura (Sl 119); no Novo Testamento não se pode indicar tal passagem, e também em Hebreus 4,12 palavra de Deus não é o mesmo que Escritura. Mas de fato o Novo Testamento não vê nos livros do Antigo outra coisa senão a palavra de Deus: Deus, ou o Espírito Santo, é o auctor primarius, que na Escritura falou por meio dos profetas. A Escritura é assim chamada tanto por causa de sua origem quanto por causa de seu conteúdo; o sentido formal e o material da expressão estão nela estreitissimamente ligados. E, finalmente, o nome palavra de Deus é usado para o próprio Cristo. Ele é o Logos em sentido inteiramente único, revelador e revelação ao mesmo tempo. Todas as revelações de Deus, todas as palavras de Deus, na natureza e na história, na criação e na recriação, sob o Antigo e sob o Novo Testamento, têm nele seu fundamento, sua unidade e seu centro. Ele é o sol, as demais palavras de Deus são os seus raios. A palavra de Deus na natureza, sob Israel, no Novo Testamento, na Escritura, não pode por um instante ser desligada dele nem concebida à parte dele. Só há revelação de Deus porque ele é o Logos. Ele é o principium cognoscendi, em sentido geral de toda ciência, em sentido especial, como Logos encarnado, de todo conhecimento de Deus, da religião e da teologia.

D. Conceito de inspiração

13. A Sagrada Escritura em parte alguma nos oferece um dogma claramente formulado sobre a inspiração, mas dá a coisa mesma, o fato da teopneustia e todos os momentos necessários à construção do dogma. Ensina a teopneustia da Escritura no mesmo sentido e do mesmo modo, com igual clareza e igual distinção, mas também tão pouco formulada em conceitos abstratos, quanto o dogma da Trindade, da encarnação, da satisfação. Isso tem sido repetidamente negado. Toda tendência sectária e herética começa quase sempre com um apelo à Escritura contra a confissão e procura fazer parecer que seu desvio é ordenado pela Escritura; mas na maioria dos casos uma investigação mais profunda leva ao reconhecimento de que a ortodoxia tem por si o testemunho da Escritura. Os modernos concedem hoje em geral de bom grado que Jesus e os apóstolos aceitavam a Escritura do Antigo Testamento como palavra de Deus. Rothe reconhece isso quanto aos apóstolos, mas julga que a dogmática eclesiástica não pode apelar para Jesus em favor de sua doutrina da inspiração. Essa opinião, porém, está bastante isolada e é partilhada por poucos: as declarações positivas de Jesus sobre a Escritura do Antigo Testamento, sua citação e seu uso falam demasiado alto em contrário e não são de modo algum mais livres que as dos apóstolos. Mas esse contraste que Rothe faz entre o ensino de Jesus e o dos apóstolos não eleva, e sim de fato mina, a autoridade do próprio Jesus. Pois de Jesus nada sabemos senão pelos apóstolos; quem, portanto, desacredita os apóstolos e os apresenta como testemunhas indignas de fé, contradiz imediatamente o próprio Jesus, que constituiu os seus apóstolos testemunhas inteiramente fidedignas e por seu Espírito os conduziria a toda a verdade — e a isso pertence certamente também a verdade acerca da Sagrada Escritura. O lema de volta a Cristo é enganoso e falso, se se põe em contraste com o testemunho dos apóstolos.

Muito comum é também outra antítese, feita para escapar ao autotestemunho da Escritura. A Escritura, diz-se então, pode aqui e ali ensinar a inspiração; mas, para edificar a doutrina da Escritura sobre a Escritura, é preciso levar também em conta os fatos que ela nos dá a conhecer em sua origem, formação, história, composição e conteúdo. Só é, portanto, verdadeira e boa aquela teoria da inspiração que é compatível com os fenômenos da Escritura e derivada deles mesmos. E muitas vezes se faz então parecer que o partido contrário impõe à Escritura sua opinião a priori e a comprime no colete de forças da escolástica, ao passo que se apela para o fato de que, contra todas essas teorias e sistemas, se quer justamente deixar a própria Escritura falar e testemunhar só de si mesma: à ortodoxia é que faltaria reverência pela Escritura, é ela que faria violência aos fatos.

Essa representação soa bem e plausível à primeira audição, mas em consideração mais próxima mostra-se insustentável. A antítese não é, em primeiro lugar, a que se dá entre uma ou outra teoria da inspiração e o autotestemunho da Escritura. A inspiração é um fato, ensinado pela própria Sagrada Escritura. Jesus e os apóstolos deram um testemunho a respeito da Escritura; a Escritura contém uma doutrina também sobre si mesma. À parte de todo desenvolvimento dogmático ou escolástico dessa doutrina, a questão é simplesmente esta: se a Escritura, nesse seu autotestemunho, merece fé ou não. Pode haver divergência sobre se a Escritura ensina de si tal teopneustia; mas, se ensina, então nisso se lhe deve também crer, tão bem quanto em suas declarações sobre Deus, Cristo e a salvação. Os assim chamados fenômenos da Escritura não podem derrubar esse autotestemunho e nem sequer podem ser convocados contra ele como parte. Pois quem faz sua doutrina da Escritura depender da investigação histórica sobre sua formação e estrutura já começa por rejeitar o autotestemunho da Sagrada Escritura e assim já não está na fé nessa Escritura; pensa poder construir a doutrina da Escritura a partir da própria investigação melhor do que derivá-la em fé da Escritura, e põe os próprios pensamentos no lugar e acima dos dela. Além disso, o autotestemunho da Escritura é claro, evidente e reconhecido como tal até pelos adversários, ao passo que a consideração dos fenômenos é resultado de prolongada investigação histórico-crítica e se transforma em toda sorte de formas conforme o ponto de vista dos críticos; o teólogo que quer chegar de tais investigações a uma doutrina sobre a Escritura de fato põe sua compreensão científica contra a doutrina da Escritura acerca de si mesma. Mas por esse caminho tampouco se chega a uma doutrina sobre a Escritura: a investigação histórico-crítica pode dar clara compreensão da origem, da história e da estrutura da Escritura, mas nunca conduz a uma doutrina, a um dogma de Sacra Scriptura. Este só pode, evidentemente, ser edificado sobre um testemunho da Escritura acerca de si mesma. A ninguém ocorre chamar doutrina a uma história sobre a origem e as partes constitutivas da Ilíada. Com esse método, portanto, não cai apenas esta ou aquela teoria sobre a inspiração, mas ela mesma como fato e testemunho da Escritura. A inspiração, se ainda se retém a palavra, torna-se então nada mais que o breve resumo do que a Bíblia é, ou antes do que se pensa que a Bíblia seja, e pode então estar em conflito direto com aquilo que a Bíblia mesma pretende ser. O método que se segue não é em essência outro senão aquele pelo qual a doutrina da criação, do homem, do pecado não é edificada a partir do testemunho da Escritura, mas do estudo independente desses fatos: em ambos os casos é uma correção da doutrina da Bíblia pela própria investigação científica, um fazer depender o testemunho da Escritura do juízo humano. Os fatos e fenômenos da Escritura, os resultados da investigação científica, podem servir de explicação e elucidação da doutrina da Escritura sobre si mesma, mas nunca podem anular o fato da inspiração, do qual ela testemunha. E, enquanto de um lado se afirma que só é aceitável aquela inspiração que concorda com os fenômenos da Escritura, é de outro lado princípio que os fenômenos da Escritura — não como a crítica os vê, mas como são em si mesmos — são compatíveis com o seu autotestemunho.

14. Costuma-se resumir o que a Escritura ensina de si mesma na palavra teopneustia ou inspiração. A palavra theópneustos, de 2 Timóteo 3,16, não ocorre antes e talvez tenha sido usada primeiro por Paulo. Etimologicamente pode ter sentido ativo e passivo, e ser traduzida tanto por "que respira Deus" quanto por "soprada por Deus"; mas o sentido passivo tem preferência, porque é o mais apoiado pelas passagens em que a palavra ocorre fora do Novo Testamento e é recomendado pela doutrina neotestamentária da Escritura. Na Vulgata é vertida por divinitus inspirata. A palavra inspiração tem originalmente sentido muito mais amplo. Gregos e romanos atribuíam a todos os que levavam a termo algo de grande e de bom um sopro ou instinto divino: nenhum grande homem jamais existiu sem algum sopro divino (Cícero). A inspiração dos poetas, dos artistas, dos vates pode também servir para elucidar a inspiração de que fala a Sagrada Escritura. Quase todos os grandes homens declararam que seus mais belos pensamentos surgiam súbita e inconscientemente em sua alma e eram para eles mesmos uma surpresa. Baste um testemunho: Goethe escreveu certa vez a Eckermann que toda produtividade da mais alta espécie, todo aperçu significativo, toda invenção, todo grande pensamento que dá frutos e tem consequências não está no poder de ninguém e está acima de todo poder terreno; tais coisas o homem há de considerar dons inesperados do alto, puros filhos de Deus, que deve receber e venerar com alegre gratidão; em tais casos o homem há de ser visto como instrumento de um governo do mundo mais alto, como vaso julgado digno de receber uma influência divina. Carlyle apontou por isso os heróis ou gênios como o núcleo da história da humanidade; e esses gênios, por sua vez, em todo domínio inspiraram a massa: Lutero, Bacon, Napoleão, Hegel transformaram os pensamentos de milhões e mudaram a consciência. Esse fato já nos ensina que é possível uma influência de um espírito sobre outro; o modo é diverso — se um homem fala ao outro, se o orador anima a multidão por sua palavra, se o hipnotizador transplanta seu pensamento ao magnetizado —, mas há sempre sugestão de pensamentos, inspiração em sentido mais amplo.

Ora, a Escritura nos ensina que o mundo não é independente e não existe nem vive de si mesmo, mas que o Espírito de Deus é imanente em tudo o que foi criado. A imanência de Deus é o fundamento de toda inspiração e teopneustia: o ser e a vida são insuflados em cada criatura, de momento a momento, pelo Espírito. Mais especificamente ainda, esse Espírito do Senhor é o princípio de toda compreensão e sabedoria, de modo que dele procedem todo conhecimento e arte, todo talento e gênio. Na congregação é o Espírito de regeneração e renovação, o distribuidor dos dons. Nos profetas é o Espírito da predição. E assim também, na composição da Escritura, é o Espírito da inspiração. Essa última atividade do Espírito Santo não está, portanto, por si só: está em conexão com toda a sua atividade imanente no mundo e na congregação, é a coroa e o ápice de tudo. A inspiração dos escritores na produção dos livros bíblicos edifica-se sobre todas essas outras atividades do Espírito Santo. Pressupõe uma obra do Pai, pela qual os órgãos da revelação foram muito antes preparados, desde o nascimento e mesmo antes dele — na linhagem, no ambiente, na criação, no desenvolvimento —, para aquela tarefa a que mais tarde seriam especialmente chamados. A inspiração não pode, portanto, como fazem os modernos, ser identificada com a animação heroica, poética ou religiosa; não é obra da providentia Dei generalis, não é influência do Espírito de Deus em igual medida e do mesmo modo que nos heróis e nos artistas, ainda que essa influência seja mais de uma vez pressuposta nos profetas e nos escritores bíblicos. O Espírito na criação prepara o Espírito na recriação. Depois, na inspiração propriamente dita pressupõe-se também uma obra precedente do Filho: o dom da teopneustia só é concedido dentro do círculo da revelação; teofania, profecia e milagre precedem a inspiração propriamente dita. Há por isso verdade no pensamento de Schleiermacher de que os santos escritores estavam sob a influência do círculo santo em que viviam. Revelação e inspiração devem ser distinguidas: aquela é obra do Filho, do Logos; esta, do Espírito Santo. A inspiração não é idêntica à revelação; está enraizada nela, mas eleva-se acima dela. Por fim, a inspiração pressupõe habitualmente, ainda que nem sempre, também uma obra do próprio Espírito Santo na regeneração, na fé e na conversão: os profetas e apóstolos eram na maioria homens santos, filhos de Deus. Também esse pensamento da teologia ética contém elementos de verdade. Mas nem por isso a inspiração é idêntica à regeneração: a regeneração abrange o homem inteiro, a inspiração é uma operação na consciência; aquela santifica e renova, esta ilumina e instrui; aquela não traz consigo por si mesma a inspiração, e a inspiração é possível sem a regeneração, como em Balaão e em Caifás. A regeneração é habitus permanens, a inspiração um actus transiens. Com todas essas atividades de Deus a inspiração está, pois, na mais estreita conexão; não pode ser isolada delas. Mas também aqui se há de combater a teoria da evolução, como se o mais alto surgisse apenas por desenvolvimento imanente a partir do mais baixo. A operação do Espírito de Deus na natureza, na humanidade, na congregação, nos profetas, nos escritores bíblicos é aparentada e análoga, mas não idêntica. Há harmonia, não igualdade.

15. Em que consiste, então, a inspiração? A Escritura lança luz sobre isso quando diz repetidamente que o Senhor fala pelos profetas ou pela boca de seus profetas. A respeito de Deus usa-se a preposição que indica o agente: ele é o falante, o sujeito propriamente dito; mas os profetas são seus órgãos, e a respeito deles usa-se sempre a preposição que indica o meio, nunca a do agente. Deus, ou o Espírito Santo, é o falante propriamente dito, o auctor primarius, e os escritores são os órgãos pelos quais Deus fala, os auctores secundarii, os scriptores ou escribas. Esclarecimento adicional dá 2 Pedro 1,19-21, onde a origem da profecia não é buscada na vontade do homem, mas no impulso do Espírito de Deus: o ser levado — a mesma palavra usada do navio arrastado pelo vento — distingue-se essencialmente do ser conduzido dos filhos de Deus (Rm 8,14); os profetas são levados, impelidos pelo Espírito Santo, e consequentemente falaram. E do mesmo modo se chama a proclamação dos apóstolos um falar no Espírito Santo. Profetas e apóstolos são portadores de Deus; é Deus quem fala neles e por eles.

Mas a própria Escritura nos leva a conceber esse falar de Deus pela boca dos profetas do modo mais orgânico possível. Há aqui distinção entre os profetas e os apóstolos, e novamente entre uns e outros mutuamente. Moisés está no topo entre os profetas: Deus falava com ele como um amigo com o seu amigo. Em Isaías o impulso do Espírito tem caráter diverso do que em Ezequiel; as profecias de Jeremias distinguem-se pela simplicidade e pela naturalidade das de Zacarias e Daniel. Em todos os profetas do Antigo Testamento o impulso do Espírito é mais ou menos transcendente: vem de cima e de fora até eles, cai sobre eles e opera momentaneamente. Nos apóstolos, ao contrário, o Espírito Santo habita imanentemente nos corações, conduz e impele, ilumina e instrui. Há, pois, diferença grande também no caráter orgânico da inspiração.

E, contudo, toda a Escritura nos manda pensar a inspiração não mecânica, mas organicamente. Não, porém, porque uma inspiração mecânica fosse em si impossível e ilícita e em conflito com a dignidade do homem: se não é indigno de uma criança crer nos pais por autoridade e aprender simplesmente deles o que não sabe, que haveria de indigno para o homem em estar em tal relação com o Senhor seu Deus? Mas Deus não tomou esse caminho: desceu ao homem na revelação e na inspiração e associou-se às peculiaridades e mesmo às fraquezas de sua natureza humana. Também isso foi uma graça da encarnação. Assim como o Logos não subjugou um homem para unir-se a ele, mas entrou na natureza humana e a preparou e formou ele mesmo pelo Espírito, assim também agiu o Espírito do Senhor na inspiração. Entrou nos próprios profetas e apóstolos e assim os tomou a seu serviço, fazendo que eles mesmos investigassem e pensassem, falassem e escrevessem. É ele quem fala por meio deles; mas são eles mesmos, ao mesmo tempo, que falam e escrevem. Eram levados pelo Espírito, mas eles mesmos falavam. Por isso a Escritura do Antigo Testamento é no Novo citada tanto com o auctor primarius quanto, e não menos vezes, com os auctores secundarii — Moisés, Davi, Isaías.

Os momentos da inspiração não devem ser considerados cada um por si, mas estão em conexão com tudo o que precede: os profetas e apóstolos são desde a juventude preparados e capacitados para sua tarefa; seu caráter, natureza, inclinação, intelecto e formação não são suprimidos, mas, já formados pelo Espírito do Senhor, são agora também tomados e usados a serviço por esse mesmo Espírito; toda a sua pessoa, com todos os dons e forças, é feita serviçal à vocação a que são chamados. Investigação, reflexão e lembrança, uso de fontes, não são portanto excluídos pela inspiração, mas nela incluídos. Quase todos os livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento são por isso, em certo sentido, também escritos de ocasião. De uma ordem direta de escrever há menção apenas em poucos textos, que de modo algum cobrem todo o conteúdo da Escritura. A vocação de profeta e de apóstolo incluía de si mesma e naturalmente falar e testemunhar, mas não escrever — pois muitos profetas e apóstolos não escreveram, e entre os carismas de 1 Coríntios 12 o escrever não é mencionado. Mas o Espírito Santo guiou de tal modo a história da igreja sob Israel e no Novo Testamento, que o ato tinha de passar à palavra e a palavra à escrita. Dessa direção nasceu, nos profetas e apóstolos, a vocação de escrever, o impulsus ad scribendum. E o escrever é o testemunho mais alto, mais poderoso e mais geral, que não se esvai ao sopro do vento, mas permanece para sempre. E precisamente porque os escritos dos profetas e apóstolos não surgiram fora da história, mas dentro dela e a partir dela, há na teologia uma ciência que investiga e dá a conhecer todas as ocasiões e circunstâncias em que os livros bíblicos surgiram.

Quando, pois, os profetas e apóstolos testemunham por escrito, conservam também o seu próprio caráter, a sua própria língua e o seu próprio estilo. Em todos os tempos essa diferença nos livros da Bíblia foi reconhecida, mas nem sempre satisfatoriamente explicada. Não se explica pelo fato de o Espírito Santo, por mero arbítrio, ter querido escrever ora assim ora assado; mas, entrando nos escritores, ele entrou também em seu estilo e em sua língua, em seu caráter e em sua peculiaridade, que ele mesmo já havia preparado e formado. A isso pertence também que ele escolha no Antigo Testamento o hebraico e no Novo o grego helenístico como veículo dos pensamentos divinos. Também nisso não houve arbítrio. O purismo defendeu de modo desajeitado uma verdade preciosa. Medido pelo grego de Platão e de Demóstenes, o Novo Testamento está cheio de barbarismos e solecismos; mas o casamento que no grego helenístico se concluiu entre o hebraico puro e o ático puro, entre o espírito oriental e o ocidental, foi no domínio da linguagem a realização do pensamento divino de que a salvação vem dos judeus, mas se destina a toda a humanidade. A língua do Novo Testamento não é a mais bela gramatical e linguisticamente considerada, mas é a mais apropriada para a comunicação dos pensamentos de Deus. Também nesse respeito a palavra tornou-se verdadeira e universalmente humana.

E, finalmente, quando os profetas e apóstolos escreveram, mais de uma vez sua própria experiência e sua própria história forneceram o material do que escreviam. Nos salmos é o cantor piedoso que alternadamente lamenta e exulta, abatido na tristeza ou transbordante de alegria; em Romanos 7 Paulo nos pinta sua própria experiência de vida; e por toda a Escritura são repetidamente as pessoas dos escritores, cuja vida e experiência, cuja esperança e temor, cuja fé e confiança, cuja queixa e miséria são descritas e retratadas. Essa vida rica, essa experiência profunda, de um Davi por exemplo, foi de tal modo formada e conduzida pelo Espírito do Senhor que, acolhida na Escritura, servisse de instrução às gerações seguintes, para que pela paciência e consolação das Escrituras tivéssemos esperança.

Só a inspiração orgânica faz justiça à Escritura. Ela é, na doutrina da Escritura, o efeito e a aplicação do fato central da revelação, a encarnação do Verbo. O Logos se fez carne, e a palavra se fez Escritura: dois fatos que não apenas correm paralelos, mas estão intimamente conexos. Cristo se fez carne, servo, sem forma nem glória, o mais desprezado entre os homens; desceu às partes mais baixas da terra, fez-se obediente até à morte de cruz. E assim também a palavra, a revelação de Deus, entrou no criatural, na vida e na história dos homens e dos povos, em todas as formas humanas do sonho e da visão, da investigação e da reflexão, até ao humanamente fraco, desprezado e ignóbil; a palavra se fez escrita, e como escrita submeteu-se à sorte de toda escrita. Tudo isso aconteceu para que a excelência do poder, também do poder da Escritura, seja de Deus e não de nós. Assim como todo pensamento e toda ação humana são fruto inteiramente da ação de Deus, em quem vivemos e somos, e ao mesmo tempo inteiramente fruto da atividade do homem, assim também a Escritura é produto inteira e completamente do Espírito de Deus, que fala pelos profetas e apóstolos, e ao mesmo tempo inteiramente produto da atividade dos escritores. Tudo divino e tudo humano.

16. Essa visão orgânica foi, contudo, repetidamente usada justamente para diminuir o primeiro ponto, a autoria do Espírito Santo. A encarnação de Cristo exige que se a acompanhe até o fundo de sua humilhação, em toda a sua fraqueza e vergonha; a descrição da palavra, da revelação, convida-nos a reconhecer também na Escritura esse elemento fraco e humilde, essa forma de servo. Mas, assim como o humano em Cristo, por fraco e humilde que fosse, permaneceu livre do pecaminoso, assim também a Escritura foi concebida sem mácula. Humana inteiramente e em todas as suas partes, mas igualmente divina em tudo.

De muitos modos, porém, esse caráter divino da Escritura tem sido diminuído. A história da inspiração ensina-nos que ela foi primeiro, até o século XVII, estendida cada vez mais longe, até às vogais e aos pontos (inspiratio punctualis), e em seguida cada vez mais contraída e limitada: dos pontos às palavras (inspiratio verbalis); das palavras isoladas à palavra como pensamento; do pensamento às coisas (inspiratio realis); das coisas ao conteúdo religioso-ético, ao que em sentido próprio foi revelado, ao objeto especial da fé salvadora (inspiratio fundamentalis); destas coisas de novo às pessoas (inspiratio personalis); e destas, finalmente, à negação de toda inspiração como dom sobrenatural.

Ora, é gratificante que mesmo a direção mais negativa queira ainda assegurar à Escritura um lugar e atribuir-lhe algum valor na vida e no pensamento religiosos da cristandade. A doutrina da Sagrada Escritura não é opinião desta ou daquela escola, nem dogma de uma igreja ou seita particular, mas um articulus fundamentalis, artigo de fé da una, santa e católica igreja cristã. Seu significado para o todo do cristianismo é visto cada vez melhor; sua conexão indissolúvel com a fé e a vida cristãs é reconhecida cada vez melhor; depois de por algum tempo ser tratada na dogmática entre os meios de graça, ela recuperou com honra o seu lugar na introdução à dogmática. Toda a igreja romana e a grega permanecem inabaladas na confissão da inspiração divina da Sagrada Escritura, e muitas igrejas e direções protestantes resistiram até hoje a toda violência para desalojá-las desse fundamento. A congregação continua, pela pregação e pelo ensino, pela leitura e pela investigação, a viver mediata ou diretamente da Escritura e a nutrir-se dela. Mesmo quem em teoria nega a inspiração fala e age na prática da vida muitas vezes como se plenamente a aceitasse. O dualismo entre crer e saber, em que segundo muitos a ortodoxia se encontraria com sua doutrina da Escritura, não é comparável à dupla posição da teologia de mediação, que na sala de aula nega a inspiração e no púlpito de fato a confessa. E o radicalismo chega cada vez mais ao reconhecimento de que a inspiração da Escritura é ensinada pela própria Escritura e deve ser aceita ou rejeitada com ela.

Tudo isso mostra que a vida é mais forte que a doutrina e que a Escritura mesma reage sempre de novo contra toda explicação naturalista. Ela mesma reivindica ter procedido do Espírito de Deus e mantém essa reivindicação contra toda crítica. Toda tentativa de despojá-la do caráter misterioso de sua origem, de seu conteúdo e de seu poder acabou até agora por abandoná-la e deixar a Escritura ser Escritura. Uma inspiração não é, portanto, explicação da Escritura, e assim propriamente tampouco é uma teoria; é e deve ser uma confissão crente do que a Escritura testemunha de si mesma, a despeito da aparência que está contra ela. A inspiração é um dogma como a Trindade e a encarnação, que o cristão aceita não porque veja sua verdade, mas porque Deus assim o testemunha. Não é pronunciamento científico, mas confissão de fé. Com a inspiração, como com todo outro dogma, a questão não é em primeiro lugar: quanto posso e devo confessar sem entrar em conflito com a ciência? — mas: qual é o testemunho de Deus e qual é, portanto, o pronunciamento da fé cristã? E então só uma resposta é possível: que a Escritura se apresenta como palavra de Deus e que a igreja de Deus em todos os tempos a reconheceu como tal.

Com esse caráter dogmático e religioso da doutrina da inspiração estão em conflito a inspiratio personalis e a fundamentalis. Há também nessas concepções um bom pensamento: foram certamente as pessoas que, com todos os seus dons e forças, foram tomadas a serviço na inspiração pelo Espírito Santo, e essas pessoas eram homens santos, homens de Deus, apropriadamente equipados para essa obra; e há também sem dúvida na Escritura distinção entre partes mais e menos importantes, nem todos os livros da Bíblia têm igual valor. Mas ambas as representações enfraquecem o testemunho que a Escritura dá de si mesma e não nascem da plenitude da fé, mas de transação com a ciência. Além disso, a inspiratio personalis esbarra ainda nestas objeções: apaga a distinção entre inspiração e iluminação, entre a vida intelectual e a ética, entre o ser levado dos profetas e o ser conduzido dos filhos de Deus, entre a Sagrada Escritura e a leitura edificante. Ademais, inverte com Roma a relação entre Escritura e igreja, priva a congregação da firmeza de que necessita e a faz dependente da ciência, que teria de decidir o que na Escritura é ou não é palavra de Deus. Muitos defensores dessa teoria tentam escapar a essas objeções apelando para a pessoa de Cristo como fonte e autoridade da dogmática; mas isso não ajuda, pois é justamente sobre quem Cristo é e o que ensinou e fez que há divergência. Se o testemunho apostólico acerca de Cristo não é fidedigno, nenhum conhecimento de Cristo é possível. Acresce que, se Cristo é autoridade, é-o também na doutrina acerca da Escritura: a inspiração deveria então ser aceita justamente sob a sua autoridade. A teoria mencionada entra em conflito com a autoridade do próprio Cristo. A inspiratio fundamentalis difere da personalis em que ainda admite uma atividade especial do Espírito no escrever, mas apenas em algumas partes da Escritura. Essa representação é, porém, tão deísta e dualista que já por isso é inaceitável; e, além disso, palavra e fato, o religioso e o histórico, o que na Escritura é falado por Deus e o que é falado pelos homens estão de tal modo entretecidos que a separação é impossível — também a história na Escritura é revelação de Deus. E, finalmente, essas duas teorias não respondem às objeções que a ciência levanta contra a Escritura e sua inspiração, pois estas de modo algum se referem apenas a alguns pontos subordinados na periferia da revelação, mas tocam o seu próprio coração e centro. A inspiratio personalis e a fundamentalis não são de modo algum mais científicas e mais racionais que a mais estrita inspiratio verbalis.

As demais teorias — inspiratio punctualis, verbalis, realis e também a inspiração da palavra de Philippi — pouco diferem entre si. A atividade do Espírito Santo no escrever consistiu em que, depois de ter preparado de toda maneira a consciência humana dos scriptores — pelo nascimento, pela criação, pelos dons naturais, pela investigação, pela lembrança, pela reflexão, pela experiência de vida, pela revelação —, ele agora, no e sob e com o próprio escrever, fez surgir nessa consciência aqueles pensamentos e palavras, aquela língua e aquele estilo que podiam interpretar do melhor modo o pensamento divino para homens de toda condição, povo e século. Nos pensamentos estão incluídas as palavras, e nas palavras as vogais. Mas daí não se segue que os sinais vocálicos de nossos manuscritos hebraicos provenham dos próprios escritores; nem se segue que tudo esteja cheio de sabedoria divina e que cada iota e cada til tenham conteúdo infinito. Tudo tem certamente o seu sentido e o seu significado, mas ali, naquele lugar e no contexto em que ocorre. A Escritura não pode ser considerada atomisticamente, como se cada palavra e cada letra, separadamente em si e isoladas, tivessem sido inspiradas por Deus com intenção própria e conteúdo próprio e assim divino e infinito: isso leva às regras hermenêuticas absurdas dos escribas judeus e não honra, mas desonra a Sagrada Escritura. Organicamente, porém, deve a inspiração ser concebida, de sorte que também o menor tenha seu lugar e seu sentido e ao mesmo tempo esteja a distância muito maior do centro que outras partes. No organismo humano nada é acidental, nem o comprimento, nem a largura, nem a cor, nem o matiz; mas nem por isso tudo está na mesma conexão estreita com o centro da vida: cabeça e coração ocupam no corpo lugar muito mais importante que a mão e o pé, e estes por sua vez valem muito mais que as unhas e os cabelos. Também na Escritura nem tudo está igualmente perto do centro; há uma periferia que se move largamente em torno do ponto médio, mas também ela pertence ao círculo dos pensamentos de Deus. Espécies e graus na inspiração mesma, portanto, não há: o cabelo da cabeça participa da mesma vida que o coração e a mão. É uma só alma, que está toda no corpo todo e em todas as suas partes. É um só Espírito, do qual toda a Escritura procedeu por meio da consciência dos escritores. Mas há de fato diferença no modo como a mesma vida é imanente e ativa nas diferentes partes do corpo. Há diversidade de dons, também na Escritura, mas o Espírito é o mesmo.

E. Objeções contra a inspiração

17. Contra essa inspiração da Escritura levantam-se muitas e gravíssimas objeções. São derivadas da crítica histórica, que contesta a autenticidade e a credibilidade de muitos livros da Bíblia; das contradições internas, que repetidamente ocorrem na Escritura; do modo como o Antigo Testamento é citado e explicado no Novo; da história profana, com que as narrativas da Escritura muitas vezes não se deixam conciliar; da natureza, que tanto em sua origem quanto em sua existência contradiz a Escritura com sua criação e seus milagres; da religião e da moral, que muitas vezes emitem juízo reprovador sobre a fé e a vida das pessoas da Bíblia; e da forma presente da Escritura, que, como mostra a crítica textual, se perdeu em seus autógrafos, é corrompida em suas cópias e defeituosa em suas traduções. É tentativa vã explicar essas objeções e agir como se não existissem.

Mas em primeiro lugar é preciso chamar a atenção para o significado ético da luta que em todos os séculos se travou contra a Escritura. Se a Escritura é a palavra de Deus, essa luta não é acidental, mas necessária e também perfeitamente explicável. Porque é a descrição da revelação de Deus em Cristo, deve provocar a mesma resistência que o próprio Cristo. Ele veio ao mundo para um juízo e foi posto para queda e para levantamento de muitos; traz separação entre a luz e as trevas e torna manifestos os pensamentos de muitos corações. E do mesmo modo a Escritura é palavra viva e poderosa, juiz dos pensamentos e das intenções do coração. Ela não só foi inspirada; ela ainda é teopneusta. Assim como muito precede o ato da inspiração — toda a atividade do Espírito Santo na natureza, na história, na revelação, na regeneração —, assim também muito se segue. A inspiração não está por si só. O Espírito Santo não se retira da Sagrada Escritura depois do ato da inspiração, nem a abandona à sua sorte, mas a sustenta e a anima, e leva o seu conteúdo, de toda maneira, à humanidade, ao seu coração e à sua consciência. Pela Escritura como palavra de Deus o Espírito Santo trava luta contínua contra os pensamentos e as intenções do homem natural. Em si, portanto, não há de causar a menor admiração que a Escritura tenha em todos os tempos encontrado contradição e oposição. Cristo carregou uma cruz, e o servo não é maior que o seu senhor. A Escritura é a serva de Cristo; participa do seu opróbrio; provoca a inimizade do homem pecador.

Daí, contudo, nem toda oposição à Escritura se explica. Mas também os ataques a que a Escritura está exposta neste século não devem ser considerados em si mesmos: eles se ligam sem dúvida a toda a direção de espírito deste século. Sobre pessoas e intenções não nos cabe julgar; mas seria superficial afirmar que a luta contra a Escritura neste século esteve inteiramente por si só e foi governada por motivos inteiramente outros e muito mais puros que nos séculos anteriores, como se agora somente a cabeça falasse e o coração ficasse de todo de fora. Todo crente tem a experiência de que, nos melhores momentos de sua vida, é também quando está mais firme na fé na Escritura; sua confiança na Escritura cresce com sua fé em Cristo, e inversamente a ignorância das Escrituras é, por si e na mesma medida, ignorância de Cristo (Jerônimo). A conexão entre pecado e erro jaz muitas vezes bem abaixo da superfície da vida consciente; em outrem quase nunca se pode apontá-la, mas às vezes ela se descobre ao próprio olho da alma. A luta contra a Escritura é em primeiro lugar uma revelação da inimizade do coração humano. Mas essa inimizade pode exprimir-se de modos diversos, e de modo algum vem à tona somente, ou talvez nem sequer mais fortemente, na crítica a que a Escritura é submetida em nosso tempo. Nos dias da ortodoxia morta a incredulidade quanto à Escritura era em princípio tão poderosa quanto em nosso século histórico e crítico. As formas mudam, a essência permanece uma. Quer a inimizade contra a Escritura se exprima numa crítica como a de Celso e de Porfírio, quer se revele numa fé morta, a inimizade é em princípio a mesma. Pois não os ouvintes, mas os que praticam a palavra são declarados bem-aventurados.

Por isso permanece dever de todo homem, antes de tudo, depor essa inimizade contra a palavra de Deus e levar cativo todo pensamento à obediência de Cristo. A própria Escritura em toda parte comparece com essa exigência: só os puros de coração verão a Deus; a regeneração faz ver o reino de Deus; a abnegação é a condição para ser discípulo de Jesus; a sabedoria do mundo é loucura diante de Deus. A Escritura assume diante de todo homem posição tão elevada que, em vez de submeter-se à sua crítica, antes o julga em todos os seus pensamentos e desejos. E esse foi em todos os tempos o ponto de vista da igreja cristã diante da Escritura. A humildade era, segundo Crisóstomo, o fundamento da filosofia. E Agostinho disse: assim como aquele orador, perguntado o que era o primeiro nos preceitos da eloquência, respondeu — a pronúncia; e o que era o segundo — a pronúncia; e o que era o terceiro — a pronúncia; assim, se me perguntares sobre os preceitos da religião cristã, apraz-me responder sempre, em primeiro, em segundo e em terceiro lugar: a humildade. Calvino cita isso com aprovação. E Pascal grita ao homem: humilha-te, razão impotente; cala-te, natureza imbecil... ouve a Deus!

Assim a igreja se pôs diante da Escritura em todos os tempos, e o dogmático cristão não pode assumir outra posição. Pois um dogma não repousa sobre os resultados de nenhuma investigação histórico-crítica, mas somente sobre o testemunho de Deus, sobre o autotestemunho da Sagrada Escritura. O cristão não crê porque tudo revele o amor de Deus, mas apesar de tudo o que desperta dúvida. Também na Escritura permanece muito que desperta dúvida, e todos os crentes sabem falar disso por experiência. Os homens da crítica da Escritura apresentam muitas vezes a coisa como se a congregação simples nada soubesse das objeções levantadas contra a Escritura e nada sentisse da dificuldade de continuar a crer nela. Mas essa é uma representação impura. Certamente os cristãos simples não conhecem os obstáculos que a erudição põe no caminho da fé na Escritura; mas conhecem, em maior ou menor medida, a luta que se trava na cabeça e no coração contra a Escritura. Não há um único crente que não tenha, ao seu modo, aprendido a conhecer a antítese entre a sabedoria do mundo e a loucura de Deus. É uma só e a mesma luta, sempre continuada, que deve ser travada por todos os cristãos, doutos ou indoutos, para manter os pensamentos cativos sob a obediência de Cristo. Ninguém vence essa luta aqui na terra. Sobre toda a herança da fé permanecem cruzes que devem ser superadas. Não há fé sem luta: crer é lutar, lutar contra a aparência das coisas. Enquanto alguém ainda crê alguma coisa, sua fé é contestada de todos os lados; nem o crente moderno está livre disso — as concessões apenas enfraquecem, não libertam.

Restam, pois, objeções bastantes também para quem se submete infantilmente à Escritura. Não é preciso encobri-las. Há na Escritura cruzes que não se deixam explicar e que provavelmente também nunca serão resolvidas. Mas essas dificuldades, que a própria Sagrada Escritura nos oferece contra a sua inspiração, em grande parte não foram descobertas de novo neste século: foram notadas em todos os tempos, e não obstante Jesus e os apóstolos, Atanásio e Agostinho, Tomás e Boaventura, Lutero e Calvino, todos os cristãos de todas as igrejas e de todos os séculos confessaram e reconheceram a Escritura como palavra de Deus. Quem quiser esperar com a fé na Escritura até que todas as objeções tenham sido removidas e todas as contradições conciliadas, nunca chega à fé. O que alguém vê, por que o esperaria ainda? Jesus declara bem-aventurados os que não viram e creram. Ademais, objeções e dificuldades existem em toda ciência. Quem não quer começar crendo, nunca chega a saber. A teoria do conhecimento é o princípio da filosofia — e é mistério do começo ao fim. Quem não quiser passar à investigação científica antes de ver pavimentado o caminho pelo qual chegamos ao conhecimento, nunca a começa; quem não quiser comer antes de compreender todo o processo pelo qual o alimento lhe chega, morre de fome; e quem não quiser crer na palavra de Deus antes de ver resolvidas todas as dificuldades, perece de penúria espiritual. A natureza, a história e toda ciência oferecem tantas cruzes quanto a Sagrada Escritura. A natureza contém tantos enigmas que muitas vezes nos pode fazer duvidar da existência de um Deus sábio e justo; há coisas de aparência contrária em abundância em cada página do livro da natureza, um resto inexplicável que zomba de toda explicação. Quem, por isso, abandona a fé na Providência de Deus, que se estende sobre todas as coisas? O maometismo, a vida e o destino dos povos incivilizados são na história da humanidade uma cruz tão grande e tão difícil quanto a composição do Pentateuco e dos sinóticos. Quem, por isso, duvida de que Deus escreva também esse livro da natureza e da história com sua mão onipotente? Naturalmente pode-se aqui, como também com a Escritura, atirar-se nos braços do agnosticismo e do pessimismo. Mas o desespero é um salto mortal também no domínio científico. Com a incredulidade os mistérios do ser não diminuem, mas aumentam. E o descontentamento do coração torna-se maior.

18. Mas, além disso, a concepção orgânica da inspiração oferece muitos meios para responder às objeções levantadas contra ela. Pois implica que o Espírito Santo, ao escrever a palavra de Deus, nada de humano desdenhou para servir de órgão do divino. A revelação de Deus não é abstratamente sobrenatural, mas entrou no humano, em pessoas e circunstâncias, em formas e costumes, na história e na vida. Não permanece pairando muito acima de nós, mas desceu à nossa condição; é carne e sangue e se fez semelhante a nós em todas as coisas, exceto no pecado. Constitui agora componente inextirpável deste cosmo em que vivemos e nele continua sua operação renovadora e restauradora. O humano tornou-se órgão do divino, o natural revelação do sobrenatural, o visível sinal e selo do invisível.

Na inspiração fez-se uso de todos os dons e forças que jazem na natureza humana. Com isso, em primeiro lugar, é inteiramente explicável a diferença de língua e estilo, de caráter e individualidade que se nota nos livros da Bíblia. Antes essa diferença era explicada pela vontade do Espírito Santo, e faltava consideração mais profunda; com a inspiração orgânica ela é inteiramente natural. Também o uso de fontes, a familiaridade dos escritores com escritos anteriores, a investigação pessoal, a memória, a reflexão e a experiência de vida não são excluídos pela concepção orgânica, mas nela incluídos. O próprio Espírito Santo preparou desse modo os seus scriptores: não desceu sobre eles de uma vez do alto, mas usou toda a sua personalidade como instrumento. Também aqui vale a palavra: a graça não suprime, mas aperfeiçoa a natureza. A personalidade dos escritores não foi apagada, mas mantida e santificada. A inspiração de modo algum exige, portanto, que igualemos literária ou esteticamente o estilo de Amós ao de Isaías, ou que neguemos todo barbarismo e solecismo na língua do Novo Testamento.

Em segundo lugar, a concepção orgânica da revelação e da inspiração traz consigo que a vida humana comum e natural não seja excluída, mas também posta a serviço dos pensamentos de Deus. A Escritura é a palavra de Deus: não a contém apenas, ela o é. Mas nessa expressão o elemento formal e o material não podem ser separados um do outro. A inspiração sozinha e por si mesma ainda não faria de um escrito a palavra de Deus no sentido escriturístico: ainda que um livro de geografia, por exemplo, fosse inteiramente inspirado e no sentido mais literal ditado palavra por palavra, nem por isso seria teopneusto no sentido de 2 Timóteo 3,16. A Escritura é a palavra de Deus porque o Espírito Santo nela testemunha de Cristo, porque tem o Logos encarnado por assunto e conteúdo. Forma e conteúdo penetram-se e não se deixam separar. Mas, para nos retratar essa imagem de Cristo em corpo inteiro diante dos olhos, é necessário que também o pecado humano e a mentira satânica sejam pintados em todo o seu horror: na pintura a sombra é necessária para fazer a luz sobressair mais claramente. O pecado deve ser chamado pecado também nos santos da Bíblia, e o erro tampouco pode neles ser desculpado. E, assim como a revelação de Deus em Cristo assume em si a injustiça como antítese, tampouco desdenha o humanamente fraco e natural. Cristo nada de humano considerou estranho a si, e a Escritura tampouco esquece os menores cuidados da vida diária. O cristão não se opõe antiteticamente ao humano: é a sua restauração e renovação.

Em terceiro lugar, com o conteúdo está estreitissimamente ligada a intenção e a destinação da Escritura. Tudo o que dantes foi escrito, para nosso ensino foi escrito; serve para ensinar, refutar, corrigir e educar na justiça, a fim de que o homem de Deus seja perfeito, perfeitamente habilitado para toda boa obra; serve para nos fazer sábios para a salvação. A Sagrada Escritura tem destinação inteiramente religioso-ética. Não quer ser um manual para as diversas ciências. É principium somente da teologia e exige que a leiamos e a investiguemos teologicamente. Em todas as disciplinas que se agrupam em torno da Escritura, o que nos deve importar é obter o conhecimento salvador de Deus; para isso a Escritura nos oferece todos os dados, e nesse sentido é inteiramente suficiente e perfeita. Quem, porém, quiser derivar da Escritura uma história de Israel, uma biografia de Jesus, uma história da literatura israelita ou paleocristã, vê-se repetidamente desapontado: há então lacunas que só se deixam preencher por conjecturas. A crítica histórica esqueceu inteiramente essa destinação da Escritura. Tenta produzir uma história do povo, da religião e da literatura de Israel e vem a priori com exigências que a Escritura não pode satisfazer; esbarra em contradições que não se deixam resolver, peneira fontes e livros sem fim, ordena-os de modo inteiramente diverso, com o único resultado de que surge uma confusão desesperada. Dos quatro Evangelhos não se pode construir uma vida de Jesus, nem do Antigo Testamento uma história de Israel: o Espírito Santo não teve isso em vista. A inspiração não foi um registro notarial, e a harmonística das narrativas evangélicas fracassou. A um conhecimento exato como o que exigimos na matemática, na astronomia e na química a Escritura não corresponde, e tal padrão não lhe pode ser aplicado. Por isso também os autógrafos se perderam; por isso o texto, ainda que em grau mínimo, é corrompido; por isso a congregação, e certamente os leigos, só possuem a Escritura em tradução imperfeita e falível. São fatos que não se podem negar. E eles nos ensinam que a Escritura tem seu próprio padrão, é intérprete de si mesma e tem sua própria destinação. E essa destinação não é outra senão nos fazer sábios para a salvação. O Antigo Testamento não é fonte para uma história do povo e da religião de Israel, mas o é para uma historia revelationis; os Evangelhos não são fonte para uma vida de Jesus, mas o são para o conhecimento dogmático de sua pessoa e de sua obra. A Escritura é o livro para a religião cristã e para a teologia cristã. Para isso foi dada, para isso é apta, e por isso é a palavra de Deus, concedida a nós pelo Espírito Santo.

19. Daqui se torna finalmente clara a relação em que a Escritura está para com as demais ciências. Muito se abusou da palavra de Baronius: a Escritura não diz como vai o céu, mas como se vai ao céu. Precisamente como livro do conhecimento de Deus a Escritura tem muito a dizer também às demais ciências. É luz para o caminho e lâmpada para os pés, também da ciência e da arte. Reivindica autoridade em todo domínio da vida, pois Cristo tem todo o poder no céu e na terra. Objetivamente, a limitação da inspiração à parte religioso-ética da Escritura é insustentável; e subjetivamente, a separação entre o religioso e o restante da vida do homem não se pode manter. A inspiração estende-se a todas as partes da Escritura, e a religião é assunto do homem inteiro. Muitíssimo do que se menciona na Escritura tem também significado principial para as demais ciências: a criação e a queda do homem, a unidade do gênero humano, o dilúvio, a origem dos povos e das línguas são fatos da mais alta importância também para as outras ciências. A cada momento a ciência e a arte entram em contato com a Escritura; os principia para o todo da vida são dados na Escritura. Nada disso pode ser diminuído.

Mas, por outro lado, há também grande verdade na palavra do cardeal Baronius. Todos esses fatos são comunicados na Escritura não em si e por si, mas com um propósito teológico, para que conheçamos Deus para a salvação. A Escritura nunca se ocupa intencionalmente da ciência como tal. O próprio Cristo, embora livre de todo erro e pecado, nunca se moveu em sentido estrito no domínio da ciência e da arte, do comércio e da indústria, da jurisprudência e da política; a sua grandeza era outra: a glória do Unigênito do Pai, cheio de graça e de verdade. Mas precisamente por isso foi bênção também para a ciência e a arte, para a sociedade e o Estado. Jesus é Salvador, isso somente, mas isso também inteiramente. Não veio apenas restaurar a vida religioso-ética do homem e deixar todo o resto intocado, como se este não estivesse corrompido pelo pecado e não precisasse de restauração. Não: até onde chega o pecado, chega também a graça de Cristo. E assim é com a Escritura. Também ela é de ponta a ponta religiosa, palavra de Deus para a salvação — e justamente por isso é também palavra para a família e a sociedade, para a ciência e a arte. A Escritura é um livro para toda a humanidade, em todas as suas condições e estados, em todas as suas gerações e povos. Mas justamente por isso não é um livro científico em sentido estrito. Nela fala a sabedoria, não a erudição. Não fala a língua exata da ciência e da escola, mas a da observação e da vida diária. Não julga nem descreve as coisas segundo os resultados da investigação científica, mas segundo a intuição, segundo a primeira impressão viva que os fenômenos causam no homem: fala por isso do nascer e do parar do sol, do sangue como alma do animal, do coração como fonte dos pensamentos, e ao fazê-lo não se preocupa de modo algum com a linguagem cientificamente precisa da astronomia, da fisiologia ou da psicologia. Fala da terra como centro da criação de Deus e não toma partido entre a visão de mundo ptolomaica e a copernicana; não decide entre o netunismo e o plutonismo, nem tampouco entre a alopatia e a homeopatia. Os scriptores da Sagrada Escritura provavelmente nada sabiam de geologia, zoologia, fisiologia ou medicina além do que sabiam todos os seus contemporâneos. Nem era necessário. Pois a Sagrada Escritura emprega a língua da experiência diária, que é sempre verdadeira e sempre permanece. Se em lugar disso ela tivesse usado a língua da escola e falado com exatidão científica, teria posto obstáculo à sua própria autoridade: se se tivesse decidido pela visão de mundo ptolomaica, seria inacreditável numa era que honra o sistema copernicano; e tampouco poderia ter sido um livro para a vida, para a humanidade. Mas agora fala em língua universalmente humana, inteligível para o mais simples, clara para doutos e indoutos. Emprega a língua da observação, que sempre continuará a existir ao lado da língua da ciência e da escola. Por isso pode também durar até o fim dos tempos. Por isso é antiga sem jamais envelhecer. É sempre jovem e fresca; é a fala da vida. A palavra de Deus permanece para sempre.

§ 12. As propriedades da Escritura

A. As propriedades da Escritura em geral.

1. A doutrina das affectiones da Sagrada Escritura desenvolveu-se inteiramente a partir da luta contra Roma e contra o anabatismo. Quanto à confissão da inspiração e da autoridade havia acordo; no restante do locus de Sacra Scriptura, porém, havia entre Roma e a Reforma grande diferença. A relação em que Roma pusera a Escritura e a igreja uma para com a outra foi mudada em princípio pela Reforma. Entre os pais da igreja e os escolásticos, a Escritura, ao menos em teoria, ainda estava muito acima da igreja e da tradição; repousava em si mesma, era autopistos — digna de fé por si — e, para a igreja e para a teologia, a norma normans. Boaventura declara que a igreja está fundada sobre as palavras da Sagrada Escritura, e que quem a desconhece não sabe governar a igreja. Todos eram de opinião que a Escritura podia ser suficientemente provada como verdade a partir de si e por si mesma; ela não depende da igreja, mas, ao contrário, a igreja depende dela. A igreja com a sua tradição pode ser regula fidei, mas fundamentum fidei ainda não é: isso é a Escritura sozinha.

Mas a igreja, com o seu ofício e a sua tradição, começou em Roma a assumir cada vez mais uma posição independente e a adquirir autoridade ao lado da Sagrada Escritura. A relação entre ambas não foi de início definida com precisão, mas logo exigiu regulação melhor. E quando a igreja continuamente cresceu em poder e autossuficiência, a autoridade foi cada vez mais transferida da Escritura para a igreja. A pergunta sobre qual das duas, a Escritura ou a igreja, tinha precedência, foi posta clara e conscientemente pela primeira vez no tempo dos concílios reformadores; apesar da contradição de Gerson, de d'Ailly e sobretudo de Nicolau de Clémanges, decidiu-se em favor da igreja. Trento sancionou isso contra a Reforma. Na luta contra o galicanismo a questão foi ainda mais precisada, e no Vaticano de 1870 resolveu-se de tal modo que a igreja foi declarada infalível. O sujeito dessa infalibilidade, porém, não é a ecclesia audiens, nem a ecclesia docens, nem tampouco os bispos reunidos em concílio, mas especificamente o papa. E este, por sua vez, não como pessoa privada, nem como bispo de Roma ou patriarca do Ocidente, mas como Supremo Pastor de toda a igreja. Ele possui essa infalibilidade como cabeça da igreja e não à parte dela; mas não a possui por meio dela e com ela, e sim acima dela e em distinção dela. Também os bispos e os concílios participam da infalibilidade, não separados do papa, mas apenas em unidade com ele e em submissão a ele. Ele está acima de todos e sozinho torna infalíveis a igreja, a tradição, os concílios, os cânones. Concílios sem o papa podem errar e erraram. Toda a igreja, tanto a que ensina quanto a que ouve, só é infalível una cum et sub Romano pontifice. Com isso toda a relação entre igreja e Escritura fica invertida. A igreja, ou mais concretamente o papa, precede a Escritura e está acima dela. Ubi papa, ibi ecclesia. A infalibilidade do papa torna desnecessária a da igreja, a dos bispos e concílios e igualmente a da Escritura.

2. Dessa concepção romana da relação entre Escritura e igreja procedem todas as diferenças que na doutrina da Escritura existem entre Roma e a Reforma. Elas dizem respeito principalmente à necessidade da Sagrada Escritura, aos apócrifos do Antigo Testamento, à editio Vulgata, à proibição da Bíblia, à interpretação da Escritura e à tradição. Formalmente, a inversão aparece com máxima clareza no fato de que os teólogos romanos mais recentes tratam a doutrina da igreja na pars formalis da dogmática. A igreja pertence aos principia fidei. Como a Escritura na Reforma, assim a igreja, o magistério, ou propriamente o papa, é o princípio formal, o fundamentum fidei no romanismo.

Contra isso os reformadores puseram a doutrina das propriedades da Escritura. Ela trazia caráter inteiramente polêmico, e justamente por isso já estava, no essencial, fixada desde o início. Aos poucos foi também incorporada de modo mais ou menos sistemático e metódico à dogmática: ainda não em Zuínglio, Calvino e Melâncton, mas já em Musculus, Zanchius, Polanus e Junius, e na igreja luterana em Gerhard e nos que o seguiram. Mas no tratamento havia diferença. Às vezes discutia-se ali toda sorte de material histórico e crítico; a dogmática tomava em si quase toda a "Introdução", a canonica generalis e a specialis. Também o número e a divisão das propriedades eram indicados desigualmente: autoridade, utilidade, necessidade, verdade, clareza, suficiência, origem, divisão, conteúdo, apócrifos, concílio, igreja, tradição, editio authentica, traduções, interpretação, provas, testimonium Spiritus Sancti — tudo isso e muito mais era trazido à doutrina da Escritura e de suas propriedades. Pouco a pouco veio maior delimitação da matéria. Calovius e Quenstedt distinguiram entre affectiones primariae e secundariae; às primeiras pertenciam a autoridade, a verdade, a perfeição, a perspicuidade, a faculdade de interpretar-se a si mesma, a potestade judicial e a eficácia; às segundas, a necessidade, a integridade, a pureza, a autenticidade e a licença concedida a todos de lê-la. Mais simples ainda foi a ordem seguida muitas vezes: auctoritas, necessitas, perfectio seu sufficientia, perspicuitas, faculdade de interpretar-se a si mesma e efficacia.

Mas ainda assim há simplificação a fazer. O material histórico, crítico e arqueológico não pertence à dogmática, mas às disciplinas bibliológicas da teologia. A autenticidade, a integridade e a pureza não podem, portanto, ser tratadas plenamente na dogmática; são mencionadas ali só na medida em que a doutrina da Escritura oferece alguns dados sobre a sua condição. A veritas, depois da inspiração e da autoridade, já não precisa de argumento separado, e com ele seria antes enfraquecida do que fortalecida. A efficacia encontra o seu lugar na doutrina dos media gratiae. Restam assim apenas a auctoritas, a necessitas, a perfectio e a perspicuitas. E entre essas há ainda a distinção de que a auctoritas não é uma propriedade coordenada com as outras, pois está dada por si mesma com a inspiração; a necessidade, a perspicuidade e a suficiência, ao contrário, não decorrem da inspiração no mesmo sentido. É concebível que uma Escritura infalível tivesse de ser suplementada e explicada por uma tradição infalível. Roma reconhece de fato a autoridade da Escritura, mas nega as suas demais propriedades.

B. A autoridade da Escritura.

3. A autoridade da Escritura foi em todos os tempos reconhecida na igreja cristã. Jesus e os apóstolos criam no Antigo Testamento como palavra de Deus e lhe atribuíam autoridade divina. A igreja cristã nasceu e cresceu sob a autoridade da Escritura. O que os apóstolos escreveram deve ser aceito como se o próprio Cristo o tivesse escrito, diz Agostinho. Essa autoridade da Escritura permaneceu firme em todas as igrejas e entre todos os cristãos até o século passado. Em contrapartida, entre Roma e a Reforma surgiu séria diferença acerca do fundamento sobre o qual essa autoridade repousa. Pais da igreja e escolásticos ainda ensinavam muitas vezes a autopistia da Escritura, mas a força motriz do princípio romano empurrou cada vez mais a igreja para diante da Escritura.

A igreja, assim reza hoje a doutrina romana geral, precede a Escritura temporal e logicamente. Existiu antes dela e não deve à Escritura a sua origem, a sua existência e a sua autoridade, mas existe em si e por si, isto é, por Cristo, ou pelo Espírito Santo que nela habita. A Escritura, ao contrário, procedeu justamente da igreja e é agora por ela reconhecida, confirmada, conservada, interpretada, defendida. A Escritura precisa da igreja, mas a igreja não precisa da Escritura. Sem igreja não há Escritura; sem Escritura há, contudo, igreja. A igreja com a tradição infalível é o meio originário e suficiente para conservar e comunicar a revelação; a Sagrada Escritura foi acrescentada depois, é em si insuficiente, mas como apoio e confirmação da tradição é útil e boa. De fato, em Roma a Escritura é feita inteiramente dependente da igreja: a autenticidade, a integridade, a inspiração, a canonicidade, a autoridade da Escritura são determinadas pela igreja. Faz-se então, nesse ponto, a distinção de que a Escritura não depende da igreja quoad se, mas quoad nos. A igreja não torna a Escritura inspirada, canônica e genuína pelo seu reconhecimento, mas é a única que pode conhecer essas propriedades de modo infalível. Pois o autotestemunho da Escritura não estabelece que precisamente estes livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento, e nenhum outro e nem menos, sejam inspirados; em parte alguma dá a Escritura um catálogo dos livros que lhe pertencem; os textos que ensinam a inspiração nunca abrangem o todo da Escritura, e 2 Tm 3.16 vale apenas para o Antigo Testamento; além disso, apelar à própria Escritura pela inspiração da Escritura é sempre ainda uma prova em círculo. Também por isso os protestantes estão divididos entre si sobre os livros que pertencem à Escritura: o juízo de Lutero acerca de Tiago difere do de Calvino. As provas tiradas dos pais da igreja não são firmes e sólidas o bastante; têm grande valor como motiva credibilitatis, mas dão apenas probabilidade, certeza humana e portanto falível. Só a igreja dá certeza divina e infalível — como já dizia Agostinho: eu não creria no Evangelho se a autoridade da igreja católica não me movesse a isso. Os protestantes, portanto, também só puderam aceitar e reconhecer a Escritura como palavra de Deus porque a receberam da mão da igreja. O Vaticano reconheceu os livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento como canônicos porque, escritos por inspiração do Espírito Santo, têm a Deus por autor e como tais foram entregues à própria igreja. Guiada por esses pensamentos, Roma estabeleceu em Trento e no Vaticano o cânon, nele incluiu também os apócrifos do Antigo Testamento e declarou ainda a editio Vulgata texto autêntico, de modo que a esta cabe autoridade decisiva na igreja e na teologia.

4. Contra essa doutrina romana a Reforma pôs a autopistia da Escritura. Nessa diferença, a questão não era se a igreja não tinha um chamado a cumprir para com a Escritura. Concedia-se em geral que a igreja é de grande significado para a Escritura: o seu testemunho é de grande peso e um motivum credibilitatis; a igreja dos primeiros séculos possui nos seus testemunhos um forte apoio para a Escritura; para todo ser humano a igreja é o guia até a Escritura. Nesse sentido a palavra de Agostinho é e permanece verdadeira: ele foi movido pela igreja a crer na Escritura. Teólogos protestantes enfraqueceram essa palavra, fazendo-a valer apenas para o passado, para a origem da fé. Mas o raciocínio de Agostinho é claro. Ele põe o seu adversário maniqueu diante deste dilema: ou tens de dizer-me "crê nos católicos" — mas estes justamente me advertem contra ti; ou "não creias nos católicos" — mas então também não podes apelar contra mim ao Evangelho, pois foi pela pregação dos católicos que cri no próprio Evangelho. A igreja é para Agostinho um motivo de fé, do qual aqui se serve contra o maniqueu. Mas há diferença entre motivo e fundamento último da fé. Como ele vê na igreja um motivo de fé, ele mesmo o esclarece alhures, quando pergunta por que não te submetes antes à autoridade evangélica, tão fundada, tão firmada, tão celebrada, recomendada desde o tempo dos apóstolos até os nossos por sucessões certíssimas. A igreja, com a sua dignidade, o seu poder, a sua hierarquia, sempre causou profunda impressão em Agostinho; ela continuamente o moveu à fé, apoiou-o e fortaleceu-o na dúvida e na luta, foi a mão firme que sempre de novo o conduziu à Escritura. Mas com isso Agostinho não quer dizer que a autoridade da Escritura dependa da igreja, que ela seja o último e mais profundo fundamento da sua fé. Em outro lugar ele diz claramente que a Sagrada Escritura tem autoridade por si mesma e deve ser crida por causa de si mesma.

A igreja tem e conserva para todo crente, até a sua morte, um rico e profundo significado pedagógico. A nuvem de testemunhas que nos rodeia pode fortalecer-nos e animar-nos na luta. Mas isso é coisa bem diversa de a autoridade da Escritura depender da igreja. Roma sequer ousa dizê-lo abertamente: o próprio Concílio Vaticano reconheceu os livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento como canônicos também por terem sido escritos sob inspiração do Espírito Santo e terem a Deus por autor. E os teólogos romanos fazem a distinção entre a autoridade da Escritura quoad se e quoad nos. Mas essa distinção não pode valer aqui. Pois, se a igreja é o último e mais profundo fundamento por que creio na Escritura, então é essa igreja, e não a Escritura, que é autopistos. E das duas uma: ou a Escritura contém um testemunho, uma doutrina acerca de si mesma, da sua inspiração e da sua autoridade, e então a igreja nada faz senão aceitar e confirmar esse testemunho; ou a Escritura não ensina tal inspiração e autoridade, e então o dogma da igreja acerca da Escritura está julgado para o protestante. Os teólogos romanos encontram-se, por isso, em contradição não pequena: por um lado tentam, na doutrina da Escritura, demonstrar a sua inspiração e autoridade a partir dela mesma; por outro, chegados à doutrina da igreja, empenham-se em enfraquecer essas provas e em mostrar que só o testemunho da igreja dá certeza incontestável. Se, ao contrário, a autoridade quoad se depende da própria Escritura, então ela é também quoad nos o fundamento último da nossa fé. A igreja só pode reconhecer o que é; não pode fazer o que não é. A acusação de que assim se raciocina em círculo e se prova a Escritura com a Escritura pode ser devolvida a Roma, que prova a igreja com a Escritura e a Escritura com a igreja. E se Roma observa contra isso que no primeiro caso usa a Escritura não como palavra de Deus, mas como testemunho humano, verossímil e fidedigno, o teólogo protestante pode adotar a mesma observação: primeiro deriva-se, da Escritura como testemunho fidedigno, a inspiração, e com isso prova-se depois a Escritura como palavra de Deus. Mas muito mais significativo é que em todo campo da ciência, e portanto também na teologia, os principia se firmam por si mesmos. A verdade de um principium não pode ser demonstrada, apenas reconhecida. Principium creditur propter se, non propter aliud: do princípio não se pode ter nem se deve buscar um princípio.

A própria Escritura ensina, portanto, com clareza, que não a igreja, mas a palavra de Deus, escrita ou não escrita, é autopistos. A igreja em todos os tempos esteve ligada a essa palavra de Deus, na medida e na forma em que ela existia. Israel recebe a lei em Horebe, Jesus e os apóstolos submetem-se à Escritura do Antigo Testamento, a igreja cristã está desde o princípio ligada à palavra falada e escrita dos apóstolos. A palavra de Deus é o fundamento da igreja, Ef 2.20. A igreja pode testemunhar a palavra, mas a palavra está acima dela. Ela não pode dar a ninguém, no coração, fé na palavra de Deus: isso só a palavra de Deus o pode, por si mesma e pelo poder do Espírito Santo, Hb 4.12; 1 Pe 1.23. E já só por isso se vê que a igreja está abaixo da Escritura. A igreja e os crentes podem, pois, vir a conhecer a inspiração, a autoridade e a canonicidade da Escritura a partir dela mesma, mas nunca podem proclamá-las e estabelecê-las por autoridade própria. A Reforma preferiu alguma incerteza a uma certeza obtida apenas por decisão arbitrária da igreja. Pois a Escritura em parte alguma dá um catálogo dos livros que contém; sobre alguns livros houve na mais antiga igreja cristã, e também depois, diferença de opinião; o texto não possui aquela integridade que teólogos luteranos e reformados tão de bom grado desejaram. Mas ainda assim a Reforma manteve a autopistia da Escritura contra as pretensões de Roma, subordinou a igreja à palavra de Deus e com isso salvou a liberdade do cristão.

5. Ao lado dessa diferença entre Roma e a Reforma quanto ao fundamento da autoridade da Escritura, surgiu no século XVII, dentro das próprias igrejas protestantes, outra luta importante acerca da natureza dessa autoridade. Neste ponto havia acordo: a Escritura, por ter Deus como autor, possuía uma auctoritas divina. Mais precisamente, essa autoridade era definida pelo fato de que a Escritura devia ser crida e obedecida por todos e era a única regra de fé e de vida. Ora, essa definição levava por si à distinção entre uma auctoritas historica e uma auctoritas normativa. Pois a revelação de Deus é dada em forma de história e passou por tempos diversos. De modo algum tudo o que está registrado na Escritura tem autoridade normativa para a nossa fé e a nossa vida. Muito do que foi ordenado e instituído por Deus, ou prescrito por profetas e apóstolos, já não nos diz respeito diretamente e se referia a pessoas que viveram antes: a ordem a Abraão de sacrificar o seu filho, as leis cerimoniais e civis válidas nos dias do Antigo Testamento e tanto mais são certamente úteis, como história, para ensino e admoestação, mas não podem nem devem mais ser seguidas por nós. E não só isso: a revelação, na sua descrição, registrou não apenas as boas obras dos santos, mas também os feitos maus dos ímpios. Assim ocorrem na Escritura, mais de uma vez, palavras e ações que, embora apresentadas como historicamente verdadeiras, não são apresentadas como normativas; tão longe está que possam ser regra para a nossa fé e vida, que antes devem ser rejeitadas e reprovadas. Também os pecados dos santos são comunicados para advertência, não para imitação. E, por fim, quanto a muitas pessoas — os patriarcas, os juízes, os amigos de Jó, os poetas de alguns salmos, como os salmos imprecatórios — pode-se levantar a questão de se as suas palavras são inspiradas apenas formalmente, quanto ao registro, ou também materialmente, quanto ao conteúdo. Voetius julgava que muitas dessas pessoas, como Jó e os seus amigos, não podem ser contadas entre os profetas, e sustentou essa opinião contra Maresius.

Essa questão não teve consequências ulteriores, mas foi em muitos aspectos importante. Trouxe pela primeira vez à consciência com clareza que há distinção entre palavra de Deus em sentido formal e palavra de Deus em sentido material, e obrigou a refletir sobre a relação em que ambas estão. Ora, essa relação foi por certo concebida pela maioria daqueles teólogos de modo dualista demais. A autoridade da história e a história da norma não se podem separar na Escritura de maneira tão abstrata. O sentido formal e o material da expressão "palavra de Deus" estão ligados estreitamente demais. Mesmo nas palavras mentirosas de Satanás e nos feitos maus dos ímpios Deus tem algo a dizer-nos. A Escritura é útil não só para ensino, mas também para advertência e admoestação; instrui-nos e corrige-nos, tanto dissuadindo quanto incitando, tanto envergonhando quanto consolando. Mas por essa distinção ficou claro que a Escritura não pode nem deve ser concebida como um código cheio de artigos. Um apelo a um texto fora do contexto não basta para um dogma. A revelação depositada na Escritura é um todo histórico e orgânico; assim quer ser lida e explicada. E por isso o dogma, que vem a nós com autoridade e quer ser regra para a nossa fé e a nossa vida, deve ser fundado sobre o organismo inteiro da Escritura e derivado dele. A autoridade da Escritura é diferente da autoridade de uma lei do Estado.

6. A natureza e o fundamento da autoridade da Escritura foram, porém, postos em discussão sobretudo na teologia mais recente. Antigamente a autoridade da Sagrada Escritura repousava sobre a sua inspiração e estava com isso dada por si mesma. Mas, abandonada a inspiração, a autoridade da Escritura já não era sustentável. Tentou-se de toda sorte de maneiras, mas viu-se cada um obrigado a conceber de modo inteiramente diverso tanto os fundamentos quanto o caráter dessa autoridade. A autoridade da Escritura, na medida em que ainda era reconhecida, passou a assentar sobre isto: que ela é o documento autêntico da revelação; que exprime do modo mais puro a ideia cristã, assim como a água também é mais pura na fonte; que é o cumprimento da ideia veterotestamentária da salvação e contém a doutrina cristã completa, ainda que só em germe; que é o começo e a contínua renovação do espírito cristão na comunidade. Considerações desse teor encontram-se em teólogos das mais diversas direções.

Todos esses fundamentos, porém, não são firmes o bastante para sustentar uma autoridade tal como a religião exige. Podem ser levados em conta como motiva credibilitatis, mas como fundamentos são insustentáveis. Pois, em primeiro lugar, pela distinção entre revelação e documento da revelação, entre palavra de Deus e Escritura, tornam de fato inteiramente ilusória a autoridade da Escritura. Se não a Escritura como um todo, mas só a palavra de Deus nela, o religioso-ético, a revelação ou como se queira chamá-lo, tem autoridade, então cada um tem de determinar por si mesmo o que é essa palavra de Deus na Escritura, e cada um o determina a seu bel-prazer. O centro de gravidade transfere-se do objeto para o sujeito; a Escritura não critica o homem, mas o homem julga a Escritura; a autoridade da Escritura depende do arbítrio humano, existe apenas na medida em que se queira reconhecê-la, e está assim inteiramente destruída. E, ainda que todos esses fundamentos pudessem assegurar à Escritura alguma autoridade, esta não seria outra senão puramente histórica. E isso é insuficiente na religião. Aqui não nos basta uma autoridade histórica, isto é, humana e falível. Porque a religião toca a nossa salvação e está ligada aos nossos interesses eternos, nela não nos podemos contentar com menos que uma autoridade divina. Não devemos apenas saber que a Escritura é o documento histórico para o nosso conhecimento do cristianismo e que reproduz do modo mais puro as ideias cristãs originais; na religião temos de saber que a Escritura é a palavra e a verdade de Deus. Sem essa certeza não há consolo na vida nem no morrer. E não só todo cristão tem necessidade dessa certeza: também a igreja como instituto não pode dispensar essa segurança. Pois, se falta ao pregador a convicção da verdade divina da palavra que anuncia, a sua pregação perde toda autoridade, influência e poder. Se não tem uma mensagem divina a trazer, quem lhe dá o direito de apresentar-se diante de homens sujeitos às mesmas paixões que ele? Quem lhe dá a liberdade de pôr-se acima deles no púlpito, de ocupá-los com os mais altos interesses da alma e da vida e até de anunciar-lhes uma bem-aventurança eterna ou uma perdição eterna? Quem ousa e quem pode fazê-lo, senão aquele que tem uma palavra de Deus a proclamar? A fé cristã e a pregação cristã exigem ambas uma autoridade divina em que repousem. Vacilará a fé, diz Agostinho, se vacila a autoridade das divinas Escrituras.

Por isso também não pode merecer aprovação que a natureza da autoridade da Escritura seja descrita como moral. Lessing já começou com isso, ao dizer que algo não é verdadeiro por estar na Bíblia, mas está na Bíblia por ser verdadeiro. Desde o seu suspiro por libertação da autoridade da letra e do papa de papel, o crer por autoridade tem sido de todos os modos posto em ridículo. Teólogos cristãos deixaram-se influenciar por isso e modificaram ou contestaram a fé na autoridade. Saussaye declara que não há outra autoridade senão a moral e que o moral é todo ele autoridade; autoridade intelectual não existe, mas a autoridade moral é a moralidade, é a própria religião; não se crê na verdade por autoridade, mas a verdade tem autoridade, isto é, tem o direito de que se lhe obedeça. Essa representação, porém, sofre de confusão de conceitos. A verdade tem autoridade, certamente; ninguém o nega. Mas a questão é justamente o que, no domínio religioso, é a verdade e onde ela se há de encontrar. A isso só é possível uma dupla resposta. Ou, de um lado: o que é a verdade, ou, se se quiser, quem é Cristo, dizem-no os apóstolos, di-lo a Escritura; ou, de outro: isso é decidido pelo juízo próprio, pela razão ou pela consciência de cada homem por si. Neste último caso não há mais autoridade alguma, nem autoridade da Escritura; ela fica inteira e totalmente sujeita à crítica do sujeito. Nem adianta então dizer, com Rothe, que a Bíblia é o instrumento plenamente suficiente para chegar a um puro conhecimento da revelação de Deus, pois falta todo padrão objetivo segundo o qual essa revelação possa ser avaliada e encontrada na Escritura. Há, na verdade, um único fundamento sobre o qual a autoridade da Escritura pode repousar, e esse é a sua inspiração. Se este cai, então está acabada também a autoridade da Escritura: ela contém então apenas escritos humanos, que como tais não podem alegar título algum para ser norma da nossa fé e da nossa vida. E com a Escritura cai, para o protestante, toda autoridade em religião. Todas as tentativas de reencontrar então ainda alguma autoridade — na pessoa de Cristo, na igreja, na experiência religiosa, na razão ou na consciência — acabam em decepção. Elas provam apenas que uma religião sem autoridade não pode existir. A religião distingue-se essencialmente da ciência: tem a sua própria certeza, não uma que repouse sobre a compreensão, mas uma que consiste na fé, na confiança. E essa fé e confiança religiosas só podem repousar em Deus e na sua palavra. Na religião um testimonium humanum e uma fides humana são insuficientes; aqui temos necessidade de um testemunho de Deus, sobre o qual possamos apoiar-nos na vida e na morte. Inquieto está o nosso coração, até que repouse em Ti! Com razão diz também Harnack que nunca houve no mundo uma fé religiosa forte que não se tenha apoiado, em algum ponto decisivo, sobre uma autoridade externa; só nas pálidas exposições dos filósofos da religião ou nos esboços polêmicos de teólogos protestantes se constrói uma fé que tire a sua certeza unicamente dos seus próprios momentos internos. O direito e o valor da autoridade em religião vão sendo aos poucos reconhecidos de novo.

7. Mas, ainda que a religião só se possa satisfazer com uma autoridade divina, a natureza dessa autoridade precisa ser investigada mais de perto. Autoridade é, em geral, o poder de quem tem algo a dizer, o direito de ter voz numa questão ou noutra. De autoridade só pode haver menção entre desiguais; ela exprime sempre uma relação de um superior com o seu inferior, de um mais alto com o seu mais baixo. Porque entre os homens não há igualdade, mas existem toda sorte de distinções, pode entre eles haver menção de autoridade. E porque essa desigualdade é tão grande e tão múltipla, a autoridade ocupa entre os homens lugar amplíssimo. Ela é até o fundamento de toda a sociedade humana; quem a mina, trabalha na destruição da sociedade. Insensato e perigoso é, portanto, pôr o crer por autoridade sob luz ridícula. Já Agostinho perguntava: se não se deve crer no que não se sabe, como servirão os filhos aos pais e os amarão com piedade recíproca, se não creem que sejam seus pais? Nada de todo restaria intacto na sociedade humana, se decidíssemos nada crer que não pudéssemos ter por percebido.

Em todo domínio vivemos por autoridade. Sob autoridade nascemos e somos criados na família, na sociedade e no Estado. Os pais têm autoridade sobre os filhos, o mestre sobre os alunos, o governo sobre os súditos. Em todos esses casos a autoridade é clara: exprime um poder que por direito cabe a alguém sobre outro; apresenta-se, portanto, com ordens e leis, exige obediência e submissão e, em caso de revolta, tem até direito de coerção e punição. Mas estendemos esse conceito também à ciência e à arte. Aqui há igualmente distinção de dons e surge a relação de superiores e inferiores, de magistri e discipuli. Há homens que, por disposição genial e trabalho diligente, adquiriram maestria neste ou naquele campo e podem por isso falar com autoridade nesse domínio; das descobertas desses mestres vivem e aprendem os inferiores, os leigos. E, mais: pela imensa expansão da ciência, mesmo o mais excelente só pode ser mestre num domínio muito pequeno; em todo o resto é discípulo e tem de confiar na pesquisa alheia. Essa autoridade na ciência e na arte, porém, traz outro caráter que a dos pais, dos mestres e do governo: não é jurídica, mas ética; não pode nem deve compelir, não tem direito de punição. Por mais eminentes e graves que sejam as pessoas que aqui se apresentam com autoridade, o seu testemunho só conta na medida em que possam aduzir razões para ele. A autoridade não repousa aqui, em última instância, nas pessoas, de modo que um ipse dixit fosse conclusivo, mas repousa nas provas em que a sua afirmação se baseia. E porque todos os homens receberam algum entendimento e juízo, a fé cega é aqui inadmissível e o esforço por uma compreensão independente, na medida do necessário e do possível, é um dever. Também na história é assim: o conhecimento histórico repousa na verdade inteiramente sobre autoridade, sobre testemunhos alheios; mas esses testemunhos não devem ser cridos cegamente, e sim examinados a sério, para que, tanto quanto possível, a compreensão própria venha a seu direito. Numa palavra: nas ciências a autoridade humana vale tanto quanto as razões.

Esse conceito de autoridade encontramos enfim também na religião e na teologia. Aqui a autoridade não é necessária em grau menor, mas em medida muito maior que na família e na sociedade, na ciência e na arte: aqui ela é uma necessidade vital. Sem autoridade e sem fé, religião e teologia não podem existir um só momento. Mas a autoridade traz aqui caráter inteiramente próprio. Ela deve, evidentemente, ser uma auctoritas divina. E já por isso se distingue da autoridade na sociedade e no Estado, na ciência e na arte. Desta última difere sobretudo neste ponto: na ciência e na arte a compreensão própria pode julgar e decidir; mas diante de uma auctoritas divina isso não cabe. Quando Deus falou, toda dúvida terminou. A auctoritas divina não deve, portanto, ser chamada moral, ao menos não no sentido em que falamos do ascendente moral de uma pessoa, pois a religião não é a relação de um inferior com o seu superior, mas de uma criatura com o seu Criador, de um súdito com o seu Soberano, de um filho com o seu Pai. Deus tem o direito de ordenar ao homem e de exigir dele obediência incondicional. A sua autoridade repousa no seu ser, não nas rationes. Nisso a autoridade de Deus e da sua palavra concorda com a do governo no Estado e a do pai na família. E não há nada de degradante nisso, nem coisa alguma que de algum modo diminua a liberdade do homem, se ele escuta filialmente a palavra de Deus e lhe obedece. Crer em Deus sob a sua palavra, isto é, por autoridade, está tão pouco em conflito com a dignidade do homem quanto desonra a um filho apoiar-se com confiança ilimitada na palavra do pai. E tão longe está o cristão de ir aos poucos superando essa autoridade, que ele antes, cada vez mais, com negação de toda sabedoria própria, chega a crer em Deus sob a sua palavra. O crente nunca se eleva nesta terra acima do ponto de vista da fé e da autoridade; à medida que cresce na fé, apega-se mais firmemente à autoridade de Deus na sua palavra.

Mas, por outro lado, há também grande diferença entre a autoridade de Deus na religião e a de um pai na família ou de um governo no Estado. O pai constrange o filho, se preciso, e o traz à submissão pela punição; e o governo não traz a espada em vão: a coerção é inseparável da autoridade do governo terreno. Mas Deus não constrange. A sua revelação é uma revelação de graça. E nela ele vem ao homem não com ordens e exigências, com coerção e punição, mas com o convite, com a admoestação, com a súplica de que se deixe reconciliar com ele. Deus poderia apresentar-se ao homem como Soberano; ele um dia julgará como Juiz todos os que foram desobedientes ao evangelho do seu Filho. Mas em Cristo ele desce até nós, torna-se semelhante a nós em todas as coisas, trata-nos como seres racionais e morais — para então, deparando com hostilidade e incredulidade, retomar a sua soberania, executar o seu conselho e preparar para si glória de toda criatura. A autoridade com que Deus se apresenta na religião é assim inteiramente de espécie própria. Não é humana, mas divina. É soberana e no entanto atua de modo moral. Não constrange, e no entanto sabe manter-se. É absoluta e no entanto é resistida. Convida e suplica, e no entanto é invencível.

E assim é também a autoridade da Escritura. Como palavra de Deus, ela está muito acima de toda autoridade dos homens no Estado e na sociedade, na ciência e na arte. Diante dela tudo o mais deve ceder, pois importa antes obedecer a Deus que aos homens. Toda outra autoridade é limitada à sua esfera e vale só no seu terreno; mas a autoridade da Escritura estende-se sobre o homem inteiro e sobre a humanidade inteira. Está acima do entendimento e da vontade, acima do coração e da consciência; não se compara a nenhuma outra autoridade. A sua autoridade é absoluta, porque é divina. Tem o direito de ser crida e obedecida por todos em todos os tempos. Em majestade supera de longe todo outro poder. Mas não chama ninguém em auxílio para trazer-se a si mesma a reconhecimento e domínio. Não precisa do braço forte do governo, não requer o apoio da igreja, não apela à espada nem à inquisição, não quer reinar por coerção ou violência: quer reconhecimento livre e voluntário. E por isso ela mesma o produz, por via moral, pela operação do Espírito Santo. A Escritura vela pela sua própria autoridade. Por isso se falava antigamente de uma auctoritas causativa da Escritura, pela qual ela gera e confirma no entendimento do homem o assentimento às coisas que se devem crer.

C. A necessidade da Escritura.

8. Quanto à autoridade da Escritura há grande acordo entre as igrejas cristãs; mas nas três outras propriedades, que agora se seguem, há diferença importante. Roma, pela relação que assume entre Escritura e igreja, não pode ver nem reconhecer a necessitas Sacrae Scripturae. Para Roma a igreja é autopistos, autossuficiente, vivendo de e pelo Espírito Santo; possui a verdade e a conserva fiel e puramente pelo ofício docente infalível do papa. A Escritura, ao contrário, tendo procedido da igreja, pode ser útil e boa como norma, mas não é principium da verdade. Não é necessária ad esse ecclesiae. A igreja propriamente não tem a Escritura; antes, a Escritura é que tem necessidade da igreja para a sua autoridade, suplementação e interpretação. Os fundamentos dessa doutrina são tirados do fato de que a igreja antes de Moisés e a primeira comunidade cristã não tinham Escritura, e de que muitos crentes, sob o Antigo e ainda sob o Novo Testamento, nunca possuíram nem leram a Escritura, mas viveram única e somente da tradição.

Mas não é só Roma que assim combate a necessidade da Sagrada Escritura: toda sorte de movimentos místicos também enfraqueceu e desconheceu o significado da Escritura para a igreja e a teologia. O gnosticismo rejeitou o Antigo Testamento e aplicou ao Novo o método alegórico: as formas sensíveis e os fatos históricos têm apenas significado simbólico, são uma vestimenta necessária aos homens de posição inferior, mas que cai para os mais desenvolvidos, os pneumatikoi; a Escritura não é fonte da verdade, mas apenas meio para alçar-se ao ponto de vista mais alto da gnose. No montanismo apareceu uma nova revelação, que suplementava e melhorava a do Novo Testamento: por um lado ele não queria ser nada de novo e queria manter em pleno vigor a autoridade da Escritura; e no entanto saudava em Montano um profeta em quem o Paráclito prometido por Jesus, a última e mais alta revelação, tinha aparecido — a Escritura tinha assim de ceder à nova profecia. A igreja condenou esses movimentos e os pais combateram esse espiritualismo; Agostinho escreveu contra ele, mas supunha também que os piedosos, sobretudo os monges, podiam ser dotados de tão grande medida de fé, esperança e amor que dispensassem para si a Escritura e vivessem sem ela na solidão. O espiritualismo voltou sempre, reagindo contra o poder constritor da igreja e da tradição: várias seitas — os cátaros, Joaquim de Fiore, os irmãos e irmãs do livre espírito e mais tarde os libertinos em Genebra — julgavam que depois do período do Pai e do Filho chegara o do Espírito Santo, em que todos viviam pelo Espírito e já não precisavam dos meios externos da Escritura e da igreja. A mística, que floresceu na Idade Média na França e na Alemanha, buscava por ascese, meditação e contemplação alcançar uma comunhão com Deus que pudesse dispensar a Escritura: esta era necessária a modo de escada para subir a essa altura, mas tornava-se supérflua uma vez atingida a unidade com Deus, a visio Dei.

Os anabatistas em particular exaltaram a palavra interior à custa da exterior. Já em 1521 fez-se o contraste entre Escritura e Espírito, e esse contraste tornou-se característica permanente do anabatismo: a Sagrada Escritura não é a verdadeira palavra de Deus, mas apenas testemunho e descrição dela; a palavra genuína e verdadeira é a que o Espírito Santo fala nos nossos corações. A Bíblia é apenas um livro com letras; Bíblia é Babel, cheia de confusão; ela não pode operar fé nos corações, só o Espírito nos ensina a verdadeira palavra. E, se esse Espírito nos instrui, então podemos também dispensar a Escritura: é um auxílio temporário, mas não necessário para o homem espiritual. Hans Denck já identificava essa palavra interior com a razão natural e apontava muitas contradições na Escritura; Hetzer não julgava a Escritura necessária de modo algum; Knipperdolling exigiu em Münster que a Sagrada Escritura fosse abolida e que se vivesse só segundo a natureza e o espírito. A mística virou racionalismo. Vemos o mesmo fenômeno mais tarde nas seitas anabatistas e independentes na Inglaterra, no tempo de Cromwell, entre os quakers e no pietismo: a elevação da palavra interior acima da exterior levou sempre à identificação da instrução do Espírito com a luz natural da razão e da consciência, e assim à rejeição completa da revelação e da Escritura.

Ninguém contestou, por isso, mais agudamente a necessidade da Escritura que Lessing nos seus Axiomata contra Goeze. Também ele distingue entre letra e espírito, Bíblia e religião, teologia e religião, religião cristã e religião de Jesus, e diz agora que esta última existiu e pode existir independentemente da primeira. A religião, afinal, já estava aí antes de a Bíblia estar; o cristianismo já estava aí antes que evangelistas e apóstolos escrevessem; a religião por eles ensinada pode continuar a existir ainda que todos os seus escritos se perdessem. A religião não é verdadeira porque evangelistas e apóstolos a ensinaram, mas eles a ensinaram porque ela é verdadeira; os seus escritos podem e devem, portanto, ser explicados segundo a verdade interior da religião. Um ataque à Bíblia não é ainda um ataque à religião. Lutero libertou-nos do jugo da tradição: quem nos libertará do jugo ainda muito mais insuportável da letra?

9. Esses pensamentos sobre a não necessidade da Escritura foram introduzidos na teologia mais recente sobretudo por Schleiermacher. Na sua Glaubenslehre diz ele que a fé em Cristo não repousa sobre a autoridade da Escritura, mas precede a fé na Escritura e é justamente o que nos leva a conceder a essa Escritura estima especial. Entre os primeiros cristãos a fé em Cristo não surgiu da Sagrada Escritura, e portanto também no nosso caso ela não pode surgir dela, pois no caso deles e no nosso a fé há de ter o mesmo fundamento. A Escritura não é, pois, fonte da religião, mas de fato norma; é o primeiro membro na série dos escritos cristãos, está mais próxima da fonte, isto é, da revelação em Cristo, e por isso corria pouco perigo de acolher em si elementos impuros. Mas todos os escritos dos evangelistas e apóstolos, tal como todos os escritos cristãos posteriores, procederam de um só e mesmo Espírito, o Gemeingeist, o espírito comum da igreja cristã. A igreja não está edificada sobre a Escritura, mas a Escritura procedeu da igreja.

Por Schleiermacher esses pensamentos tornaram-se propriedade comum da teologia mais recente. Parecem tão verdadeiros e falam por si de modo tão evidente que não se pensa em dúvida ou crítica alguma. Em quase todos os teólogos se encontra a representação de que a igreja existiu antes da Escritura e portanto também pode existir independentemente dela; de que a igreja repousa em si mesma, vive de si mesma, isto é, do Espírito que nela habita; de que a Sagrada Escritura, tendo procedido dela na frescura da sua juventude, é de fato norma, mas não fonte. A fonte é o Cristo pessoal e vivo, que habita na comunidade; a dogmática é descrição da vida, explicitação da consciência religiosa da comunidade, tendo nisso a Escritura como diretriz, por ter interpretado essa vida da comunidade primeiro e com maior clareza. A igreja é assim propriamente a autora da Bíblia, e a Bíblia o reflexo da comunidade.

Todas essas ideias — de Roma, do anabatismo, da mística, do racionalismo, de Lessing, de Schleiermacher — são estreitíssimamente aparentadas entre si. Schleiermacher em particular, pela sua inversão da relação entre Escritura e igreja, ofereceu a Roma poderoso apoio. Todos concordam em que a Escritura não é necessária, mas quando muito útil, e em que a igreja também pode existir de si e por si. A diferença está apenas em que Roma busca o fundamento e a possibilidade dessa subsistência da religião cristã na igreja como instituto, isto é, no papa infalível; Schleiermacher e os seus, na comunidade como organismo, isto é, na comunidade religiosa; e a mística e o racionalismo, nos indivíduos religiosos. Todos buscam a subsistência da igreja na condução do Espírito Santo, na inabitação de Cristo, mas esta tem em Roma o seu órgão no papa, em Schleiermacher no organismo da comunidade, no anabatismo em cada crente, um por um.

É fácil ver que Roma ocupa aqui a posição mais forte. Pois certamente há uma condução do Espírito Santo na comunidade; Cristo ressuscitou dos mortos, vive no céu e habita e opera na sua igreja na terra; há uma união mística entre Cristo e o seu corpo; a palavra sozinha é insuficiente, o principium externum exige também um principium internum. O protestantismo sabia muito bem tudo isso e o confessava de coração. Mas a questão era esta: se a igreja, para a vida consciente da religião, estava ligada à palavra, à Escritura, ou não. A religião, afinal, não é apenas assunto do coração, do sentimento e da vontade, mas também da cabeça; Deus deve ser servido e amado também com o entendimento. Para a vida consciente, portanto, a igreja precisa ter uma fonte da qual haure a verdade. Ora, Roma, com o seu papa infalível, pode afirmar que a Escritura não é necessária: a infalibilidade da igreja de fato torna a Escritura supérflua. Mas o protestantismo não tem órgão infalível algum, nem no instituto, nem no organismo, nem nos membros individuais da comunidade. Quando nega a necessidade da Escritura, enfraquece-se a si mesmo, fortalece Roma e perde a verdade, que é elemento indispensável da religião. Por isso a Reforma insistiu tão fortemente na necessidade da Sagrada Escritura. A Escritura foi o "dá-me onde firmar-me" da Reforma; ela venceu porque, contra a autoridade da igreja, dos concílios e do papa, podia pôr a autoridade da santa palavra de Deus. Quem abandona esse ponto de vista da Reforma trabalha inconscientemente na edificação de Roma. Pois, se não a Escritura mas a igreja é necessária para o conhecimento da verdade religiosa, então esta se torna o indispensável medium gratiae; a palavra perde o seu lugar central e conserva apenas significado preparatório e pedagógico. A Escritura pode ser útil e boa; necessária, não o é, nem para a igreja como um todo nem para os crentes em particular.

10. Ainda que a Reforma buscasse assim contra Roma a sua força na Escritura e mantivesse a sua necessidade, nem por isso negou que a igreja existiu por séculos, antes de Moisés, sem Escritura. Também é verdade que a igreja do Novo Testamento foi fundada pela pregação dos apóstolos e por muito tempo existiu sem cânon neotestamentário; que a comunidade ainda hoje é sempre nutrida e plantada no mundo pagão pela proclamação do evangelho; que os livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento surgiram gradualmente e, antes da imprensa, eram difundidos em pequeno número; que muitos crentes, antes e depois, morreram sem nunca ter lido e examinado a Escritura; e que ainda hoje a vida religiosa busca satisfação para as suas necessidades não só na Escritura, mas ao menos igualmente em toda sorte de literatura edificante. Tudo isso se pode reconhecer de coração sem com isso fazer a mínima injustiça à necessidade da Escritura. De fato, Deus, se lhe tivesse aprazido, poderia certamente ter conservado a igreja na verdade também de outro modo que por meio de uma palavra escrita. A necessidade da Escritura não é absoluta, mas ex hypothesi beneplacentiae Dei.

Mas, assim entendida, essa necessidade está acima de toda dúvida. O homem em todos os tempos viveu somente da palavra que procede da boca de Deus, Mt 4.4. A palavra de Deus foi desde o princípio a semente da igreja. Certamente a igreja existiu antes de Moisés sem Escritura; mas havia um verbum agraphon, uma palavra não escrita, antes que ela se tornasse engraphon, escrita. A igreja nunca viveu de si mesma nem repousou em si mesma, mas sempre da palavra de Deus. Roma também não ensina isso, mas admite uma tradição que conserva infalivelmente a palavra de Deus. Mas é preciso dizê-lo contra aqueles que fazem a revelação consistir apenas em vida, numa infusão de forças divinas, no despertar de emoções religiosas. A igreja pode, pois, ser mais velha que a palavra escrita, mas é mais nova que a palavra falada.

A afirmação corrente de que a igreja do Novo Testamento existiu longo tempo sem Escritura também deve ser bem entendida. É verdade que o cânon dos escritos neotestamentários só foi geralmente reconhecido na segunda metade do século II. Mas as comunidades cristãs tinham desde o princípio o Antigo Testamento; foram fundadas pela palavra falada dos apóstolos; muito cedo muitas comunidades vieram a possuir escritos apostólicos, que eram também dados a outras para leitura, logo serviram para leitura pública nas igrejas e muito cedo se difundiram. Compreende-se por si que, enquanto os apóstolos viviam e visitavam as comunidades, nenhuma distinção se fazia ainda entre a sua palavra falada e a escrita: tradição e Escritura eram, por assim dizer, ainda uma só coisa. Mas, passado o primeiro período e crescida a distância em relação aos apóstolos, os seus escritos subiram em significado e a sua necessidade foi aumentando. Com efeito, a necessitas Sacrae Scripturae não é uma propriedade estável, mas sempre crescente. A Escritura nem sempre foi necessária em sua totalidade para toda a igreja. A Escritura surgiu e completou-se gradualmente; à medida que a revelação progredia, também ela aumentava em extensão. Cada período da igreja teve o bastante com a porção da Escritura que então existia, assim como teve o bastante com a revelação ocorrida até aquele ponto. A Escritura, como a revelação, é um todo orgânico que cresceu: na semente estava contida a planta, no germe estava contido o fruto. Ambas, revelação e Escritura, mantiveram passo igual com o estado da igreja, e reciprocamente. Por isso nenhuma conclusão se pode tirar das condições anteriores da igreja para o presente. Que a igreja antes de Moisés tenha estado sem Escritura, que a igreja antes da conclusão da revelação nunca tenha possuído a Escritura inteira, disso nada se segue para aquela dispensação da igreja em que vivemos, na qual a revelação terminou e a Escritura se completou. Para esta dispensação a Escritura não é apenas útil e boa, mas decididamente necessária ad esse ecclesiae.

11. A Escritura é, ademais, o único meio adequado para conservar inalterada a palavra falada e torná-la propriedade de todos os homens. Vox audita perit, littera scripta manet: a voz ouvida perece, a letra escrita permanece. A brevidade da vida, a infidelidade da memória, a astúcia do coração e toda sorte de outros perigos que ameaçam a pureza da tradição tornam absolutamente necessário o registro da palavra falada para a sua conservação e difusão. Com a palavra da revelação isso vale em grau ainda mais elevado. Pois o evangelho não é segundo o homem, está em oposição direta aos seus pensamentos e desejos, está como verdade divina contra a sua mentira. Além disso, a revelação não se destina a uma geração e a um tempo, mas a todos os povos e séculos: deve percorrer o seu curso pela humanidade inteira até o fim dos tempos. A verdade é uma, o cristianismo é religião universal. Como poderia esse destino da palavra da revelação ser alcançado senão pelo seu registro por escrito?

A igreja não pode prestar esse serviço à palavra. Em parte alguma lhe é prometida infalibilidade; sempre é ela remetida na Escritura à palavra objetiva, à lei e ao testemunho. A rigor, nem mesmo Roma o afirma: não é infalível a igreja como assembleia dos crentes, nem a assembleia dos bispos, mas só o papa. A declaração da infalibilidade do papa é uma prova da tese da Reforma sobre a inconfiabilidade da tradição, sobre a falibilidade da igreja e até sobre a necessidade da Escritura. Pois essa declaração implica que a verdade da palavra da revelação não é nem pode ser conservada pela igreja como assembleia dos crentes, já que também esta está sujeita ao erro, mas só se explica por uma assistência especial do Espírito Santo, da qual, segundo a afirmação romana, o papa participa. Roma e a Reforma concordam, pois, em que a palavra da revelação só pode conservar-se pura na igreja e para a igreja pela instituição do apostolado, isto é, pela inspiração; e a disputa versa apenas sobre se esse apostolado cessou ou se continua no papa.

Por outro lado, é inteiramente insustentável a afirmação da teologia da mediação de que a Escritura procedeu da igreja e de que esta é propriamente a autora da Bíblia. Só se pode afirmar isso desconhecendo o ofício próprio dos profetas e apóstolos, identificando inspiração com regeneração e desligando a Escritura inteiramente da revelação. Segundo a doutrina da Escritura, porém, a inspiração é um ato especial do Espírito Santo, um dom especial a profetas e apóstolos, pelo qual puderam transmitir pura e inalterada a palavra de Deus à igreja de todos os séculos. A Escritura não procedeu, pois, da igreja, mas foi dada à igreja por uma atividade especial do Espírito Santo nos profetas e apóstolos; ela pertence também à revelação que Deus concedeu ao seu povo. Nisso Roma e a Reforma estão de acordo. Mas a Reforma sustenta contra Roma que essa atividade especial do Espírito Santo agora cessou, isto é, que o apostolado já não existe e não se continua no papa. Os apóstolos depositaram plena e puramente nas Sagradas Escrituras o seu testemunho acerca de Cristo; por elas fizeram da revelação de Deus propriedade da humanidade. A Escritura é a palavra de Deus que entrou completamente no mundo; ela torna essa palavra geral e eterna, arranca-a ao erro e à mentira, ao esquecimento e à perecibilidade.

À medida que a humanidade cresce, a vida encurta, a memória enfraquece, a ciência se dilata, o erro se agrava e a mentira se torna mais descarada, a necessitas Sacrae Scripturae aumenta. Em todo domínio a escrita e a imprensa ganham em significado; a arte da impressão foi um passo de gigante rumo ao céu e rumo ao inferno. Desse curso participa também a Sagrada Escritura: a sua necessidade vem à luz cada vez mais claramente; ela é difundida e tornada propriedade comum como nunca antes, é traduzida em centenas de línguas, vem sob os olhos e às mãos de todos, e mostra-se cada vez mais o meio adequado para levar a verdade ao conhecimento de todos os homens. Que ao lado disso a literatura religiosa continue a ser, para muitos, o alimento principal da vida espiritual, nada prova contra a necessidade da Escritura, pois toda verdade cristã é hauridade dela direta ou indiretamente. Também o riacho derivado recebe a água da fonte. É afirmação insustentável que ainda hoje algo da verdade cristã nos venha fora da Sagrada Escritura e sem ela. No primeiro século tal coisa era possível, mas agora as correntes da tradição e da Escritura há muito confluíram, e a primeira há muito foi absorvida pela segunda. Roma só pode sustentar o contrário pela sua doutrina da continuação do apostolado e da infalibilidade do papa; mas para um protestante isso é impossível. O caráter cristão da verdade só pode ser demonstrado pelo fato de ela estar enraizada com todas as suas fibras na Sagrada Escritura. Não há conhecimento de Cristo senão a partir da Escritura, nem comunhão com ele senão pela comunhão na palavra dos apóstolos.

12. Mesmo reconhecida a necessidade da Escritura, pode ainda haver diferença de opinião sobre a duração dessa necessidade. Mesmo quem julga que a Escritura já teve o seu tempo concede muitas vezes de bom grado que ela, no seu tempo, foi de grande significado para a educação dos homens e dos povos. Mas de toda sorte de modos se limitou a duração dessa necessidade. O gnosticismo reconhecia-a para os psychikoi, os homens anímicos, e contestava-a para os pneumatikoi. A mística julgava a Escritura necessária no ponto de vista da cogitação e da meditação, mas já não no da contemplação e da visio Dei. O racionalismo de Lessing e de Kant atribuía à revelação, à Escritura, à religião estatutária um lugar pedagógico, para que assim se preparasse o domínio da religião da razão. Igualmente Hegel julgava que a forma da intuição na religião era necessária ao povo, mas que o filósofo, com os seus conceitos, já não tinha necessidade dela. E vez por outra se ouve dizer que a religião é boa para a massa a fim de mantê-la em freio, mas que os desenvolvidos e civilizados estão muito acima disso.

Há nessa concepção uma verdade inegável e gloriosa. A revelação, a Escritura, a igreja, toda a religião cristã trazem de fato caráter temporal, preparatório e pedagógico. Assim como passou a economia veterotestamentária do foedus gratiae, assim também esta dispensação da aliança da graça, em que vivemos, pertencerá um dia ao passado. Quando Cristo houver reunido a sua igreja e a houver apresentado ao Pai como noiva pura, ele entrega o reino a Deus. Ademais, a dualidade de graça e natureza, de revelação e razão, de autoridade e liberdade, de teologia e filosofia não pode ser de duração eterna. O mais alto na religião consiste afinal em que sirvamos a Deus sem coerção e sem temor, só por amor, segundo a expressão da nossa própria natureza. É o próprio Deus que na sua revelação se ocupa em formar homens em quem a sua imagem seja de novo plenamente restaurada. Ele nos concedeu não só o seu Filho, mas também o Espírito Santo, para que nos regenerasse, escrevesse a sua lei no nosso coração e nos tornasse aptos para toda boa obra. Regeneração, filiação, santificação e glorificação são as provas de que Deus educa os seus filhos para a liberdade, para um serviço de amor que nunca pesa. Nessa medida as concepções acima mencionadas podem ser chamadas antecipação do ideal futuro.

Mas elas são, contudo, de tendência muito perigosa. Todas partem de uma confusão entre a dispensação presente e a do além. Porque a nova Jerusalém já não precisará de sol e lua, nem por isso ambos deixam de ser necessários aqui na terra. Porque um dia andaremos em visão, nem por isso a fé deixa de ser indispensável nesta dispensação. Embora a igreja militante e a triunfante sejam uma só, permanece uma distinção na condição e na vida de ambas; a linha divisória não pode nem deve ser apagada. A vida celestial nós nunca a trazemos para cá, para a terra. Andamos por fé, e não por vista; agora vemos por espelho, em enigma; só depois veremos face a face e conheceremos como somos conhecidos. A visio Dei está reservada ao céu. Independentes e autossuficientes nunca nos tornamos nesta terra; permanecemos ligados ao cosmo que nos rodeia. O ponto de vista da autoridade nunca pode ser superado aqui na terra.

Mas, além disso, essa doutrina da necessidade temporária da Escritura cava um abismo profundo entre os homens anímicos e os espirituais, entre os civilizados e a massa, entre os filósofos e o povo. E um tal abismo não tem em respeito algum direito de existir. Se a religião consistisse em conhecimento, então os doutos gozariam de um privilégio sobre os não desenvolvidos. Mas religiosamente todos os homens são iguais; têm as mesmas necessidades. Em Cristo não há distinção de grego e bárbaro. A religião é uma só para todos os homens, por mais diferentes que sejam em estado, posição e desenvolvimento, pois para a religião, isto é, diante da face de Deus, são sem valor todas essas distinções de posição e privilégio pelas quais um homem se avantaja aos outros. A separação entre aquelas duas espécies de homens testemunha, portanto, um orgulho espiritual que está em conflito direto com a essência da religião cristã, com a humildade e a pequenez que ela exige. Os publicanos precedem os fariseus, e o menor é o maior no reino dos céus.

Depois, ainda haveria algo a dizer em favor dessa separação se o racionalismo tivesse razão e a revelação consistisse em nada mais que verdades de razão. Pois então estas, embora provisoriamente conhecidas pela revelação, poderiam mais tarde ser derivadas pelo pensamento a partir da própria razão. Mas a revelação tem conteúdo inteiramente diverso de uma doutrina racional: é história, tem a graça por conteúdo, a pessoa de Cristo por centro, a recriação da humanidade por fim. Nada disso pode jamais ser achado pelo pensamento ou derivado da razão. Para conhecer uma tal revelação, a Escritura permanece necessária em todos os tempos. Mesmo uma revelação de Deus a cada homem, um por um, não poderia conceder o que agora a revelação em Cristo, pela Escritura, oferece a todos os homens. O caráter histórico da revelação, o fato e a ideia da encarnação e a visão orgânica do gênero humano exigem uma Escritura em que a revelação de Deus esteja depositada para a humanidade inteira. Pode-se, portanto, decidir agora o que antes se deixou indeciso: se a revelação vem individualmente a cada homem ou se é dada a todos pela Escritura. Assim como um só sol com os seus raios ilumina a terra inteira, e assim como Cristo é o sol nascente do alto que aparece aos que jazem em trevas e sombra de morte, assim também uma só e mesma Escritura é a luz no caminho de todos e a lâmpada para os pés de todos. Ela é a palavra de Deus à humanidade inteira. A própria história dá poderoso testemunho dessa necessidade da Escritura: a mística altamente espiritual virou repetidas vezes no mais vulgar racionalismo, e o espiritualismo entusiástico acabou muitas vezes no mais grosseiro materialismo. A necessitas Sacrae Scripturae prova-se negativamente, pelos movimentos que a combatem, com a mesma força com que se prova positivamente pelas igrejas que a confessam.

D. A clareza da Escritura.

13. Outra propriedade importante que a Reforma atribuiu à Escritura contra Roma foi a perspicuitas. Segundo Roma, a Escritura é obscura. Também nas matérias que se referem à fé e à vida ela não é tão clara que possa dispensar interpretação, pois trata dos mistérios mais profundos — de Deus, da Trindade, da encarnação, da predestinação — e é mesmo nos preceitos morais tantas vezes tão pouco clara, que a cada momento houve mal-entendido e má interpretação na igreja cristã. Para o reto entendimento da Escritura é também necessária toda sorte de conhecimento de história, geografia, cronologia, arqueologia e línguas, inatingível para os leigos. Os próprios protestantes escrevem, por isso, incontáveis comentários e, nos textos mais importantes, divergem uns dos outros na exegese. É necessária, portanto, uma interpretação da Sagrada Escritura. E esta não pode ser dada pela própria Escritura: a Escritura não pode ser o seu próprio intérprete. Já Platão dizia que a letra é maltratada e não pode socorrer-se a si mesma, e que precisa do auxílio do seu pai; ela é muda e não pode dar decisão numa disputa. É como a lei segundo a qual o juiz profere sentença, mas não é lei e juiz ao mesmo tempo. O jesuíta Gretser causou profunda impressão no colóquio religioso de Ratisbona, em 1601, ao dizer: estamos diante da Sagrada Escritura e do Espírito Santo — que ele pronuncie sentença; e se disser "tu, Gretser, pensas mal, perdeste a tua causa", passarei imediatamente para o vosso banco.

Deve haver, pois, um intérprete e um juiz que dê a decisão segundo a Escritura. Se não há tal juiz, a interpretação torna-se inteiramente subjetiva: cada um julga a seu bel-prazer e tem por infalível a sua concepção individual. Todo herege tem a sua letra; cada um busca na Escritura precisamente os seus próprios dogmas. A Escritura fica entregue a toda sorte de arbítrio: individualismo, entusiasmo, racionalismo e divisão sem fim são o resultado. E o pior é que, se não há interpretação infalível, também não há certeza absoluta de fé; o fundamento sobre o qual repousa a esperança do cristão é então opinião piedosa, discernimento científico, mas não testemunho divino e infalível. E tão longe está que alguém possa formar para si, a partir da Sagrada Escritura, uma convicção ou doutrina pessoal, que também os protestantes de fato vivem, tanto quanto os católicos romanos, da tradição, e se apoiam na autoridade da igreja, dos sínodos, dos pais e dos escritores.

Tal interpretação infalível e divina da Escritura foi, porém, concedida por Deus na sua igreja. Não a Escritura morta, incompreendida e obscura, deixada a si mesma, mas a igreja, viva, sempre presente, sempre a renovar-se pelo Espírito, é a mediadora da verdade e a intérprete infalível da Sagrada Escritura. Pois cada um é o melhor intérprete da sua própria palavra: o verdadeiro intérprete da Escritura é, portanto, o Espírito Santo, que é o seu autor; e este tem o seu órgão infalível na igreja, ou melhor ainda, no papa. A igreja está, pela tradição, na posse da verdade; é conduzida por aquele mesmo Espírito que produziu a Escritura; é aparentada com ela; só ela pode entender o seu sentido; é coluna e firmeza da verdade. Assim também foi sempre a prática: Moisés, os sacerdotes, Cristo e os apóstolos explicavam e decidiam pela comunidade, e papas e concílios seguiram esse exemplo. Por isso o Concílio de Trento determinou que ninguém pode interpretar a Sagrada Escritura contra aquele sentido que a santa mãe igreja sustentou e sustenta, à qual compete julgar do verdadeiro sentido e da interpretação das Sagradas Escrituras, nem tampouco contra o consenso unânime dos Padres — vinculando com isso a exegese não só negativamente, como alguns católicos romanos tentam interpretá-lo, mas muito decididamente também de modo positivo. Ninguém pode dar outra exegese senão a que a igreja deu pelos seus pais, concílios ou papas.

Mas não é só a exegese científica que por essa doutrina da obscuridade da Escritura fica sujeita ao papa: ainda mais dependente e preso fica o leigo. A Escritura, por causa da sua obscuridade, não é leitura apropriada para os leigos; sem interpretação é ininteligível para o povo. Por isso a tradução da Escritura na língua vernácula e a leitura da Bíblia pelo povo foram cada vez mais restringidas por Roma, desde o abuso que dela se fez na Idade Média e depois. A leitura da Escritura não é permitida aos leigos senão com licença da autoridade eclesiástica. As sociedades bíblicas protestantes foram repetidas vezes condenadas pelos papas e, na encíclica de 8 de dezembro de 1864, postas na mesma linha das associações socialistas e comunistas. E o papa atual, na sua encíclica sobre os estudos da Sagrada Escritura, recomenda de fato o estudo da Escritura, mas não aos leigos.

14. A doutrina da perspicuitas Sacrae Scripturae foi repetidas vezes mal entendida e mal apresentada, tanto por protestantes quanto por católicos romanos. Ela não implica que as matérias e os assuntos de que a Escritura trata não sejam mistérios que ultrapassam de longe o entendimento humano. Nem afirma que a Sagrada Escritura seja clara em todas as suas partes, de sorte que nenhuma exegese científica fosse necessária. E tampouco significa que a Sagrada Escritura, também na doutrina da salvação, seja simples e clara para todo homem sem distinção. Ela inclui apenas isto: que aquela verdade cujo conhecimento é necessário a todos para a salvação, embora não seja em cada página igualmente clara, é contudo apresentada em toda a Escritura em forma tão simples e compreensível, que alguém a quem importe a salvação da sua alma pode facilmente, pela sua própria leitura e investigação, aprender a conhecer essa verdade a partir da Escritura, sem auxílio e condução de igreja e sacerdote. O caminho da salvação está ali, não quanto à matéria, mas quanto ao modus tradendi, claramente exposto ao leitor que deseja salvar-se. O "como" pode ele não entender; o "que" é, contudo, claro.

Assim entendida, a perspicuidade é uma propriedade que a Sagrada Escritura repetidas vezes predica de si mesma. A torah foi dada por Deus a todo o Israel, e Moisés transmite todas as palavras do Senhor ao povo inteiro; a lei e a palavra do Senhor não estão longe de nenhum deles, mas são luz no caminho e lâmpada para os pés, Sl 119.105. Os profetas dirigem-se, falando e escrevendo, ao povo inteiro; Jesus fala abertamente a todas as multidões; e os apóstolos escrevem a todos os santos chamados e eles mesmos providenciam a difusão das suas cartas, Cl 4.16. A palavra escrita é recomendada a todos para exame, Jo 5.39, e foi escrita precisamente para conceder fé, paciência, esperança, consolo e doutrina, Jo 20.31. De uma sonegação da Escritura aos leigos não há em parte alguma menção. Os crentes são eles mesmos maiores de idade e capazes de julgar; as palavras de Deus lhes foram confiadas.

Os pais da igreja, portanto, nada sabem da obscuridade da Escritura no sentido romano posterior. É certo que falam muitas vezes das profundezas e dos mistérios da Sagrada Escritura; mas tão frequentemente exaltam a sua clareza e simplicidade. Assim Crisóstomo, comparando os escritos dos profetas e apóstolos com os dos filósofos, diz que aqueles fizeram exatamente o contrário: tornaram claro e manifesto a todos o que deles vinha, por serem mestres comuns do mundo habitado, a fim de que cada um pudesse aprender por si mesmo, pela simples leitura, o que ali se diz. E é conhecida a palavra de Gregório Magno, que compara a Escritura a um rio plano e profundo, em que o cordeiro anda e o elefante nada. Ainda hoje os teólogos romanos têm de reconhecer que muito na Sagrada Escritura é tão claro que não só o crente pode entendê-lo, como também o incrédulo que rejeita o sentido claro fica inescusável. Os pais da igreja também não pensavam em proibir aos leigos a leitura da Escritura; pelo contrário, instam repetidamente pelo exame das Sagradas Escrituras e narram a bênção que eles próprios receberam da leitura, e Gregório Magno ainda a recomendava a todos os leigos. A restrição da leitura bíblica só surgiu quando, a partir do século XII, várias seitas começaram a apelar à Escritura contra a igreja. Ganhou então entrada a opinião de que a leitura da Bíblia pelos leigos era a principal fonte da heresia. Em defesa própria Roma passou então a ensinar cada vez mais a obscuridade da Escritura e a vincular a sua leitura à licença da autoridade eclesiástica.

15. De fato, as igrejas da Reforma não têm contra Roma arma mais poderosa que a Escritura. Ela desfere os golpes mais mortais na tradição e na hierarquia eclesiásticas. A doutrina da perspicuidade da Escritura é um dos baluartes mais firmes da Reforma. Ela traz certamente consigo os seus sérios perigos: o protestantismo está por ela irremediavelmente dividido; o individualismo desenvolveu-se à custa do sentido de comunidade; a livre leitura e investigação da Escritura é e vem sendo abusada do modo mais chocante por toda sorte de partidos e direções. Mas ainda assim as desvantagens não superam as vantagens. Pois a negação da clareza da Escritura acarreta a sujeição do leigo ao sacerdote, da consciência à igreja. Com a perspicuidade da Escritura cai a liberdade da religião e da consciência, da igreja e da teologia. Só ela é capaz de manter a liberdade do homem cristão; é origem e garantia das liberdades religiosas e também das políticas. E uma liberdade que não se pode obter e possuir senão com o perigo da licenciosidade e do arbítrio é sempre ainda preferível a uma tirania que suprime toda liberdade. O próprio Deus, na criação do homem, escolheu esse caminho da liberdade, que trazia consigo o perigo e de fato também o fato do pecado, em vez do da submissão forçada. E ele ainda segue, no governo do mundo e da igreja, esse caminho régio da liberdade. É precisamente essa a sua honra: que alcança o seu fim através da liberdade, cria ordem da desordem, luz das trevas, cosmo do caos.

Ambos, Roma e a Reforma, concordam em que só o Espírito Santo é o verdadeiro intérprete da palavra. Mas Roma julga que o Espírito Santo ensina infalivelmente apenas pelo papa; a Reforma crê que o Espírito Santo habita no coração de todo crente — todo filho de Deus tem a unção do Santo. Ela põe por isso a Escritura na mão de todos, traduz-a e difunde-a e não usa na igreja outra língua senão a vernácula. Roma gloria-se da sua unidade, mas essa unidade parece maior do que é. A cisão da Reforma em luterana e reformada tem a sua analogia no cisma da igreja grega e latina. Sob a aparência de uma unidade externa esconde-se em Roma uma divisão interna quase igualmente grande. O número de incrédulos e indiferentes não é menor nos países romanos que nos protestantes. Roma tampouco conseguiu conter a corrente da incredulidade: já antes da Reforma a incredulidade se espalhara em largos círculos, por exemplo na Itália; a Reforma não a provocou, antes a refreou e despertou a própria Roma para a vigilância e o combate. Descartes, o pai do racionalismo, era romano; aos racionalistas alemães contrapõem-se os materialistas franceses. A Revolução lançou as suas raízes mais profundas e deu os seus frutos mais amargos em países romanos. Resta ainda ver, ademais, se o número de partidos, direções e seitas que sempre de novo surgem não seria igualmente grande em Roma como no protestantismo, se Roma não tivesse o poder e a coragem de suprimir toda direção por censura, banimento e interdito e, se preciso, pela espada. Não é verdadeiramente graças a Roma que tantas igrejas cristãs florescentes surgiram ao lado dela. Quaisquer que sejam os lados sombrios da divisão do protestantismo, ela prova também que a vida religiosa é aqui um poder que sempre de novo cria formas novas para si e que, em meio a toda diversidade, revela também de novo uma unidade mais profunda. E em todo caso o protestantismo com a sua divisão é preferível à horrenda superstição em que o povo, na igreja grega e na romana, se enreda cada vez mais: culto de Maria, veneração de relíquias, adoração de imagens e de santos deslocam cada vez mais o serviço do único Deus verdadeiro.

16. Por causa dessa perspicuidade, a Escritura tem também a facultas se ipsam interpretandi e é ela mesma o supremus judex controversiarum. A Escritura interpreta-se a si mesma: as passagens obscuras são explicadas pelas claras, e os pensamentos fundamentais da Escritura como um todo servem para elucidar as partes. Era essa a interpretatio secundum analogiam fidei, defendida também pelos reformados. Também os reformadores não vieram à Escritura sem pressupostos: adotaram quase sem crítica a doutrina da Escritura, o símbolo apostólico e as decisões dos primeiros concílios. Não eram revolucionários e não queriam começar do princípio, mas protestavam apenas contra os erros que se haviam infiltrado. A Reforma não foi a libertação do homem natural, mas do homem cristão. Havia, portanto, desde o começo entre os reformadores uma analogia fidei, dentro da qual eles mesmos estavam e segundo a qual interpretavam a Escritura. Por essa analogia fidei entendiam originalmente o sentido derivado das passagens claras da própria Sagrada Escritura, que depois foi fixado nas confissões.

Em conexão com isso, também a igreja tinha um chamado no tocante à interpretação da Sagrada Escritura. Em virtude da potestas doctrinae que Cristo lhe concedeu e do dom de interpretação que o Espírito Santo lhe conferiu, a igreja tem o dever não só de conservar a Escritura, mas também de interpretá-la e defendê-la, de formular a verdade na sua confissão e de detectar e resistir aos erros. A igreja é, pois, também no seu círculo e no seu terreno, judex controversiarum, e tem de examinar toda opinião pela Sagrada Escritura e julgá-la segundo ela. Para isso ela não precisa ser infalível, pois também o juiz no Estado está preso à lei, mas é falível nas suas sentenças. E assim é igualmente na igreja: a Escritura é norma, a igreja é juiz. Mas também aqui há apelação superior. Roma nega isso e diz que a sentença da igreja é a última e a suprema; dela já não é possível nem mesmo apelo ao juízo divino; ela obriga na consciência. Mas a Reforma sustentou que uma igreja, por mais venerável que seja, pode contudo errar. A sua interpretação não é magisterialis, mas ministerialis. Ela só pode obrigar na consciência na medida em que alguém a reconheça como divina e infalível. Se ela de fato corresponde à palavra de Deus, isso nenhum poder terreno pode determinar; cada um só o pode determinar para si mesmo. A igreja pode então lançar alguém fora como herege, mas ele está de pé ou cai, no fim, como senhor de si mesmo. O crente mais simples pode e deve, com a Escritura na mão, se preciso opor-se a uma igreja inteira, como Lutero fez contra Roma. Só assim se mantêm a liberdade do cristão e, ao mesmo tempo, a soberania de Deus. Da Escritura não há apelação superior. Ela é a instância suprema. Nenhum poder e nenhuma sentença estão acima dela. É ela que no fim, para cada um na sua consciência, decide. E por isso é judex supremus controversiarum.

E. A suficiência da Escritura.

17. Por fim, a Reforma confessou também a perfectio ou sufficientia Sacrae Scripturae. A igreja romana julga que a Escritura é imperfeita in partibus e deve ser suplementada pela tradição. Declarou em Trento que recebe e venera, com igual afeto de piedade e reverência, as próprias tradições, tanto as que pertencem à fé quanto as que pertencem aos costumes, como ditadas oralmente por Cristo ou pelo Espírito Santo e conservadas na Igreja Católica por sucessão contínua; e afirmou no Vaticano que a revelação sobrenatural está contida em livros escritos e em tradições não escritas, recebidas da própria boca de Cristo pelos apóstolos, ou transmitidas como que de mão em mão pelos próprios apóstolos sob o ditado do Espírito Santo.

Os fundamentos que Roma aduz para essa doutrina da tradição são vários. Primeiro, aponta-se que a igreja antes de Moisés esteve inteiramente sem Escritura e que também depois disso, até hoje, muitos crentes vivem e morrem sem jamais ler ou investigar a Escritura: de longe a maior parte dos filhos de Deus vive da tradição e sabe pouco ou nada da Escritura. Depois, seria estranho que fosse diferente na esfera religiosa e eclesiástica do que em todo outro domínio: no direito e no costume, na arte e na ciência, na família e na sociedade a tradição é a portadora e a nutriz da nossa vida; por ela estamos ligados aos antepassados, recebemos os seus tesouros e os deixamos por sua vez aos nossos filhos. Já a analogia exige, pois, que haja também tradição na igreja; e esta há de ser aqui tanto mais gloriosa e mais certa que alhures, porque Cristo deu o Espírito Santo à sua igreja e por ele conduz infalivelmente a sua comunidade a toda verdade. A isso acrescem ainda muitas declarações da Escritura que reconhecem o direito e o valor da tradição: Jesus ensinou aos seus discípulos, oralmente e pelo seu Espírito, ainda muitas coisas que não foram por eles descritas, mas propagadas de boca em boca; pais, concílios e papas reconheceram desde o princípio uma tal tradição apostólica; e de fato a igreja ainda vive sempre desta tradição oral e viva. Enfim, a Escritura sozinha é insuficiente: além de nem de longe tudo ter sido registrado, vários escritos de profetas e apóstolos também se perderam; os apóstolos receberam de fato a ordem de testemunhar, mas não de fazê-lo por escrito — chegaram a escrever apenas por força das circunstâncias, compelidos por certa necessidade, e os seus escritos são por isso, na maior parte, escritos ocasionais, que de modo algum contêm tudo o que é preciso para a doutrina e a vida da igreja. Assim encontramos na Escritura pouco ou nada sobre a celebração do domingo, o episcopado, os sete sacramentos, o purgatório, a imaculada conceição de Maria; sim, mesmo dogmas como o da Trindade, o da geração eterna e o do batismo infantil não se acham na Escritura literalmente e com todas as letras. Numa palavra: a Escritura é útil, mas a tradição é necessária.

18. Contra essa doutrina romana da tradição a Reforma pôs a da perfeição e suficiência da Sagrada Escritura. O bom direito desse combate a Roma foi posto em clara luz pelo próprio desenvolvimento do conceito de tradição. As primeiras comunidades cristãs foram, tal como ainda hoje as comunidades entre os pagãos, fundadas pela palavra pregada. A doutrina e os usos que haviam recebido dos apóstolos ou dos seus companheiros propagaram-se por tempo considerável de boca em boca e de geração em geração. Esse conceito de tradição era claro: designava a doutrina e os usos recebidos dos apóstolos e conservados e propagados nas igrejas. Mas, à medida que crescia a distância que separava as igrejas do tempo apostólico, tornou-se cada vez mais difícil determinar se algo era realmente de origem apostólica. A igreja africana protestou por isso contra o valor exagerado que se atribuía a essa tradição: o nosso Senhor chamou-se a si mesmo verdade, não costume — e costume sem verdade é apenas antiguidade do erro; aquele deve ceder a esta.

Tornou-se por isso necessário definir a tradição com mais precisão e indicar as suas características. Vicente de Lérins achou os critérios de uma tradição apostólica em que algo tenha sido crido em toda parte, sempre e por todos: isso é que é verdadeira e propriamente católico. A princípio, pois, a marca da tradição consistia em ser de origem apostólica; agora acrescenta-se a isso que algo pode ser tido por de origem apostólica se for verdadeiramente geral, católico. A apostolicitas torna-se conhecível pela universitas, pela antiquitas e pela consensio. Trento, o Vaticano e também os teólogos ligam-se, na definição da tradição, a esses critérios de Vicente; mas no fundo há desvio, pois a consequência levou mais longe. Não era sustentável que algo fosse apostólico só quando realmente sempre, em toda parte e por todos tivesse sido crido. De que doutrina ou de que uso se poderia demonstrar tal catolicidade absoluta? Os três critérios foram assim sendo gradualmente enfraquecidos. A igreja não pode, de fato, declarar dogma alguma coisa nova e deve ater-se à tradição; mas a conservação dessa tradição não se há de pensar mecanicamente, como de um tesouro no campo, e sim organicamente, como Maria conservava e ponderava no coração as palavras dos pastores. Uma verdade pode assim muito bem não ter sido crida antes, ou não ter sido geralmente crida, e ser contudo tradição apostólica infalível, desde que agora seja apenas geralmente crida. Os dois critérios antiquitas e universitas não são, pois, marcas copulativas, mas distributivas: não são ambos ao mesmo tempo necessários, um dos dois basta. De fato, com isso a antiquitas foi sacrificada à universitas.

Mas também esta última é de novo limitada. Surgiu a pergunta de quem era o órgão para a conservação e para o reconhecimento da tradição. A igreja em geral não podia sê-lo. Möhler ainda identificava a tradição com a palavra que vive continuamente nos corações dos crentes, mas essa resposta foi tida por muito mais protestante que romana. A tarefa de conservar e determinar a doutrina não podia nem devia ser confiada à igreja em geral, isto é, aos leigos. Na igreja deve fazer-se distinção entre a ecclesia audiens e a docens; ambas pertencem uma à outra e são imperecíveis, mas a primeira possui apenas uma infallibilitas passiva, isto é, é infalível apenas no seu crer, enquanto e na medida em que permanece em ligação com a ecclesia docens. Mas também esta última não é o órgão próprio da doutrina. O galicanismo, o antigo clero episcopal e os velhos-católicos ficaram parados aqui e atribuem infalibilidade aos bispos em conjunto. Mas esse ponto de vista é insustentável. Quando são esses bispos infalíveis? Fora do concílio, ou só nele? Se só nele, são infalíveis apenas se unânimes, ou é infalível a maioria? Quão grande deve ela ser? Basta um voto de maioria? É o concílio infalível sem o papa, e mesmo contra ele, ou só em acordo com ele? Perguntas todas com que o galicanismo se viu em sério embaraço. O sistema papal foi por isso um passo adiante e atribuiu a infalibilidade ao papa. Esse primado do papa é o produto de um desenvolvimento de muitos séculos, consequência de uma direção do espírito já muito cedo presente na igreja. Belarmino incluiu entre as marcas da tradição também esta regra: deve-se crer sem dúvida que descende da tradição apostólica aquilo que por tal é tido naquelas igrejas em que há sucessão íntegra e contínua desde os apóstolos; ora, na antiguidade havia muitas dessas igrejas além de Roma, mas hoje só resta Roma, e portanto só do testemunho desta igreja se pode tirar argumento certo para provar as tradições apostólicas. A igreja de Roma determina e decide o que é tradição apostólica. Teólogos posteriores, sobretudo entre os jesuítas, desenvolveram isso ainda mais; e em 18 de julho de 1870, na quarta sessão do Concílio Vaticano, a infalibilidade foi abertamente proclamada como dogma.

Ora, é certo que o papa, nessa sua infalibilidade, não é pensado à parte da igreja, sobretudo não à parte da ecclesia docens; e ainda que os símbolos, os decretos, as liturgias, os pais, os doutores e toda a história da igreja sejam outros tantos monumentos da tradição, aos quais o papa se liga na determinação de um dogma e com os quais tem de contar. Mas, apesar disso, a tradição não é formalmente idêntica ao conteúdo de todos esses monumentos. A tradição é infalível; mas o que é tradição, isso é em última instância decidido só pelo papa, com a igreja e os concílios, sem eles, ou, se preciso, contra eles. A avaliação de se e em que medida algo foi crido sempre, em toda parte e por todos não pode caber à igreja, nem à ecclesia audiens nem à ecclesia docens, mas cabe por si só ao papa infalível. Se o papa proclama um dogma, ele é eo ipso tradição apostólica. O critério da tradição foi assim buscado sucessivamente na apostolicidade, na catolicidade, na sucessão episcopal e na decisão papal. Com isso chegou-se ao fim. O papa infalível é o principium formale do romanismo. Roma locuta, res finita. Papa e igreja, papa e cristianismo são um só. Ubi papa, ibi ecclesia, ibi religio Christiana, ibi Spiritus. Do papa não há apelação superior, nem sequer para Deus. Pelo papa é o próprio Deus que fala à humanidade.

Esse desfecho do curso de desenvolvimento da tradição demonstra a falsidade do princípio que nele operou desde o começo. A infalibilidade do papa só mais tarde, na doutrina da igreja, poderá ser tratada em extensão. Mas é claro que o elemento bom e verdadeiro, por causa do qual nos primeiros séculos importava manter a tradição, se perdeu inteiramente. Então tratava-se de conservar aquilo que, por instituição apostólica, se cria e se costumava nas comunidades. Compreendia-se por si que então se atribuísse grande peso à tradição e que ainda não se visse a indispensabilidade e a necessidade dos escritos apostólicos. Mas a marca da apostolicidade, que então cabia por si mesma à tradição, tinha de desaparecer à medida que se ia ficando mais longe do tempo apostólico. A independência relativa da tradição ao lado da Escritura desapareceu cada vez mais; as correntes da Escritura e da tradição confluíram. E logo depois da morte dos apóstolos e dos seus contemporâneos tornou-se impossível demonstrar algo como de origem apostólica senão por um apelo aos escritos apostólicos. De nenhum dogma que a igreja romana confessa fora da Escritura e sem ela se pode provar a origem apostólica. A doutrina da tradição em Roma serve apenas para justificar os desvios da Escritura e dos apóstolos: a veneração de Maria, o número sétuplo dos sacramentos, a infalibilidade papal — esses são os dogmas que não podem passar sem a tradição. Em hora mal escolhida a tradição apostólica foi identificada com os costumes eclesiásticos e com as decisões papais.

19. De fato, por essa doutrina da tradição a Escritura é despojada de toda a sua autoridade e do seu poder. Os católicos romanos predicam infalibilidade de ambas, Escritura e tradição (papa), mas reconhecem que existe entre as duas grande distinção. Em ambas, com efeito, a causa da infalibilidade é buscada numa operação especial e sobrenatural do Espírito Santo; pois Roma compreende muito bem que a infalibilidade da tradição não se pode derivar dos crentes como tais, do poder e do espírito do cristianismo que neles habita e opera, já que ocorrem na igreja e entre os crentes muitos erros, que muitas vezes prevalecem por longo tempo e arrastam muitos consigo. Mas há, contudo, uma distinção: a atividade do Espírito Santo nos apóstolos consistiu em revelação e inspiração; a no papa consiste em assistência. Diz o Vaticano: nem foi o Espírito Santo prometido aos sucessores de Pedro para que, por revelação sua, dessem a conhecer nova doutrina, mas para que, por assistência sua, guardassem santamente e expusessem fielmente a revelação transmitida pelos apóstolos, isto é, o depósito da fé. A Escritura é, portanto, palavra de Deus em sentido próprio, inspirada, ao menos segundo muitos teólogos, até nas palavras singulares; as decisões dos concílios e dos papas são palavras da igreja, que reproduzem puramente a verdade de Deus. A Escritura é a palavra de Deus, a tradição contém a palavra de Deus. A Escritura conserva as palavras dos apóstolos na sua forma original, a tradição reproduz a doutrina dos apóstolos apenas quanto à substância. Os livros dos profetas e apóstolos são muitas vezes escritos sem investigação, só a partir da revelação; mas com a assistentia divina prometida à igreja as pessoas são sempre elas mesmas ativas: investigam, deliberam, julgam, decidem. Com a inspiração a atividade do Espírito era, em sentido estrito, sobrenatural; com a assistência consiste muitas vezes num conjunto de cuidados da Providência pelos quais a igreja é preservada do erro. E, finalmente, a inspiração na Escritura estende-se a todas as matérias, também de história e cronologia; mas pela assistência do Espírito Santo o papa é infalível apenas quando fala ex cathedra, isto é, como Pastor e Doutor da cristandade, e quando define uma doutrina de fé ou de costumes a ser sustentada pela igreja universal. A Escritura tem assim, em Roma, ainda algumas prerrogativas sobre a tradição.

Mas de fato a tradição faz grande dano à Escritura. Em primeiro lugar, Trento determina que a Escritura e a tradição devem ser veneradas com igual afeto de piedade e reverência. Em seguida, a inspiração da Sagrada Escritura é pela maioria dos teólogos romanos concebida como uma inspiratio realis, de modo que não as palavras singulares, mas as coisas foram inspiradas. Além disso, a infalibilidade quoad formam e a quoad substantiam estão tão estreitamente ligadas uma à outra, que a linha divisória entre ambas não se pode traçar. Além disso, o papa em sentido estrito é infalível apenas em matéria de fé e vida; mas, para poder sê-lo, deve também sê-lo no juízo acerca das fontes da fé e na interpretação, isto é, na determinação do que é Escritura e tradição, na determinação da autoridade dos pais da igreja e dos concílios; no juízo acerca dos erros e das heresias e mesmo dos facta dogmatica, na proibição de livros, em matéria de disciplina, na aprovação de ordens, na canonização de santos. E, ainda que o papa não seja em sentido estrito infalível em todas as demais coisas, o seu poder e a sua autoridade estendem-se contudo a tudo o que pertence à disciplina e ao governo da igreja, e essa potestas é plena e suprema e abrange todos os pastores e todos os fiéis. De fato, muitos romanistas exigem que o papa, para poder exercer essa soberania espiritual, seja príncipe temporal, e afirmam que ele, se não diretamente, ao menos indiretamente possui o supremo poder de dispor dos bens temporais de todos os cristãos. O poder e a autoridade do papa vão muito além dos da Escritura: ele está acima dela, julga do seu conteúdo e do seu sentido e estabelece por autoridade própria os dogmas de doutrina e de vida. A Escritura pode ser o meio principal para mostrar a concordância da doutrina atual e da tradição com a doutrina dos apóstolos; pode conter muito que de outro modo não se saberia tão bem; pode ser uma instrução divina da doutrina que supera todas as outras; é contudo, para Roma, sempre apenas um auxílio, útil mas não necessário. A igreja existiu antes da Escritura, e a igreja contém não uma parte, mas a verdade plena, ao passo que a Escritura contém apenas uma porção da doutrina. A Escritura tem necessidade da tradição e da confirmação do papa, mas a tradição não da Sagrada Escritura. A tradição não é suplemento da Escritura, mas a Escritura é suplemento da tradição. A Escritura sozinha é insuficiente, mas a tradição sozinha é suficiente. A Escritura repousa sobre a igreja, mas a igreja repousa em si mesma.

20. O desenvolvimento da tradição até a infalibilidade papal e a consequente e necessária degradação da Escritura já provam por si o bom direito da Reforma de levantar-se contra a tradição. Ela não ficou, porém, apenas no ataque, mas contrapôs à doutrina de Roma a da perfectio ou sufficientia Scripturae. Também esta propriedade da Sagrada Escritura deve ser bem entendida. Não se afirma com ela que tudo o que foi falado ou escrito pelos profetas, por Cristo e pelos apóstolos tenha sido incluído na Escritura; pois muitos escritos proféticos e apostólicos se perderam, e Jesus e os apóstolos certamente falaram muito mais palavras e fizeram mais sinais do que os descritos, Jo 20.30. Tampouco implica esta propriedade que a Sagrada Escritura contenha todos os usos, cerimônias, disposições e regulamentos de que a igreja precisa para a sua organização; mas apenas que contém completamente os articuli fidei, as res necessariae ad salutem. E também não inclui que esses articuli fidei estejam nela contidos literalmente e com todas as letras, mas apenas que estejam contidos na Escritura explícita ou implicitamente, de tal modo que, sem o auxílio de outra fonte, possam ser derivados dela somente por investigação comparativa e por reflexão. E, finalmente, esta perfectio não se há de entender como se a Sagrada Escritura tivesse sido sempre a mesma quoad gradum: nos diversos tempos da igreja a Escritura, até a sua conclusão, foi desigual em extensão; mas em cada tempo aquela palavra de Deus que existia, não escrita ou escrita, era também suficiente para aquele tempo. Também a Reforma fez distinção entre um verbum agraphon e um engraphon. Mas Roma aceita ambos lado a lado e os tem por espécies de um só gênero; a Reforma vê nessa distinção apenas uma só e mesma palavra de Deus, que primeiro existiu por um tempo não escrita e depois foi registrada.

A disputa entre Roma e a Reforma versa, portanto, apenas sobre isto: se agora, depois de a Escritura estar completa, existe ainda ao lado dela outra palavra de Deus em forma não escrita; noutras palavras, se a palavra escrita de Deus contém explícita ou implicitamente tudo o que precisamos saber para a nossa salvação, sendo assim regula totalis et adaequata fidei et morum, ou se ao lado dela se deve admitir na religião e na teologia ainda outro principium cognoscendi. Mas, assim posta, esta pergunta já quase não parece suscetível de dupla resposta. Também a igreja romana reconhece que a Escritura está concluída, que forma um todo orgânico, que o cânon está fechado. Por mais alto que estimasse a tradição, não se atreveu ainda, em teoria, a pôr as decisões da igreja em uma linha com a Escritura: continua a distinguir entre verbum Dei e verbum ecclesiae. Mas como se pode jamais ensinar a insuficiência da Escritura, enquanto se leva a sério o verbum Dei? Os pais da igreja não pensavam nisso e exprimem claramente a completa suficiência da Sagrada Escritura: Ireneu diz que conhecemos a verdade pelos apóstolos, pelos quais o Evangelho chegou a nós, o qual eles então pregaram e depois, por vontade de Deus, nos transmitiram nas Escrituras, para que fosse fundamento e coluna da nossa fé. Ao lado disso reconhecem certamente também a tradição; mas acolhem nela justamente um elemento que solapa a sua convicção da suficiência da Escritura e que terminou na doutrina romana posterior da insuficiência da Escritura e da suficiência da tradição. Ambas, Escritura e tradição, não se podem manter uma ao lado da outra: o que se retira de uma é conferido à outra. A tradição só pode subir se e na medida em que a Escritura desce. É por isso também muito estranho que Roma, por um lado, tenha a Escritura por concluída e o cânon por fechado, e até reconheça a Escritura como palavra de Deus, e, por outro, considere essa Escritura insuficiente e a suplemente com a tradição. Muitos teólogos romanos de hoje dizem com razão que a Escritura é o suplemento não necessário, mas quando muito útil, da tradição.

21. Mas essa doutrina está em conflito direto com a própria Escritura. Nunca é a igreja, no Antigo e no Novo Testamento, remetida a outra coisa senão à palavra de Deus, sempre à mão, escrita ou não escrita. Só por ela pode o homem viver espiritualmente. Na Escritura sempre presente a igreja encontra tudo de que necessita. As Escrituras seguintes pressupõem as precedentes, ligam-se a elas e sobre elas se edificam: os profetas e os salmistas pressupõem a torah; Isaías chama a todos à lei e ao testemunho, Is 8.20; o Novo Testamento tem-se a si mesmo por cumprimento do Antigo e não remete a nada senão à Escritura existente. Fala ainda mais fortemente o fato de que tudo o que está fora da Escritura é excluído do modo mais decidido possível. As tradições são rejeitadas como mandamentos de homens, Mt 15.9. A tradição que surgiu nos dias do Antigo Testamento levou os judeus à rejeição do Cristo; Jesus contrapõe-lhe o seu "eu, porém, vos digo" e, precisamente contra os fariseus e escribas, liga-se de novo à lei e aos profetas. Os apóstolos apelam somente à Escritura do Antigo Testamento e nunca remetem as igrejas a outra coisa senão à palavra de Deus por eles proclamada. Na medida em que a tradição, no primeiro tempo, não queria ser outra coisa senão conservação do que fora pessoalmente ensinado e instituído pelos apóstolos, ela ainda não trazia caráter perigoso. Mas disso a tradição romana degenerou por completo. É improvável que ainda exista alguma doutrina ou algum uso que se origine dos apóstolos, senão na medida em que isso se possa demonstrar dos seus escritos. A tradição em Roma, da qual procederam a missa, a mariolatria e a infalibilidade papal, não é senão a sanção do estado de fato da igreja romana, a justificação da superstição que nela se introduziu à força.

A suficiência da Sagrada Escritura decorre ainda da natureza da dispensação neotestamentária. Cristo se fez carne e realizou toda a obra. Ele é a última e mais alta revelação de Deus; ele nos declarou o Pai; por meio dele Deus nos falou nestes últimos dias, Hb 1.1; ele é o mais alto, o único profeta. Mesmo o Concílio Vaticano reconhece que a assistentia divina conferida ao papa não consistia em revelação de uma nova doutrina. E Roma procura demonstrar os seus dogmas, por mais novos que sejam, sempre tanto quanto possível a partir da Sagrada Escritura, e apresentá-los como desenvolvimento e explicitação do que está em germe na Escritura. Mas com isso enreda-se em dificuldade não pequena. Pois ou os dogmas são todos, no mesmo sentido em que o são, por exemplo, a Trindade e as duas naturezas de Cristo, explicitação de momentos contidos na Escritura — e nesse caso a tradição é desnecessária e a Escritura suficiente; ou são de fato dogmas novos, que não têm apoio na Escritura — e então a assistentia divina do papa é essencialmente uma revelatio, revelação de nova doutrina. Este último ponto pode ainda ser negado teoricamente, mas na prática é aceito. Por isso os teólogos romanos posteriores à Reforma são em geral mais liberais que antes dela em reconhecer que alguns dogmas se fundam apenas na tradição; e por isso se aduzem agora, em favor da tradição, argumentos que antes não eram empregados, ou ao menos não nesse sentido e nessa medida: prova-se agora a insuficiência da Escritura e o direito da tradição pelo fato de que escritos proféticos e apostólicos se perderam, de que Cristo não ensinou tudo aos seus apóstolos, de que os apóstolos também ordenaram muito oralmente às comunidades.

Mas que escritos se tenham perdido, e se eram inspirados ou não, é sem consequência. Pois a questão é apenas se a Escritura que temos à mão contém tudo o que é necessário saber para a nossa salvação, e não se contém tudo o que profetas e apóstolos escreveram e o próprio Cristo falou e fez. Mesmo que escritos de profetas e apóstolos ainda fossem achados, já não poderiam servir como Sagrada Escritura. E assim se dá também com a instrução de Jesus e dos apóstolos: eles falaram e fizeram mais do que nos é descrito; o conhecimento disso seria historicamente importante, mas é religiosamente desnecessário. Temos o bastante na Escritura para a nossa salvação, e nenhum outro escrito, ainda que viesse do próprio Jesus, nos é mais necessário. Essa foi a doutrina da Reforma. Quantitativamente a revelação foi muito mais rica e maior do que a Escritura nos conservou; mas qualitativa e substancialmente a Sagrada Escritura é perfeitamente suficiente para a nossa salvação. Roma também não pode nomear outros dogmas senão os da mariolatria, da infalibilidade do papa e semelhantes, que tenham surgido da tradição à parte da Escritura; mas todos os que se referem a Deus, ao homem, a Cristo, à salvação, encontram-se, segundo a própria Roma, na Escritura. Que testemunhas, então, ainda nos são necessárias? A tradição romana serve apenas para provar os dogmas especificamente romanos; mas os dogmas cristãos, católicos, estão, segundo a própria Roma, todos fundados na Escritura.

Cristo revelou tudo plenamente, ou pessoal e oralmente, ou pelo seu Espírito aos apóstolos. Pela palavra deles cremos em Cristo e temos comunhão com Deus, Jo 17.20. O Espírito Santo já não revela nova doutrina alguma; ele toma tudo de Cristo, Jo 16.14. Em Cristo a revelação de Deus está consumada. E igualmente a palavra da salvação está perfeitamente compreendida na Escritura. Ela forma um todo; dá ela mesma a impressão de um organismo que atingiu a plena maturidade. Termina onde começa. É um círculo que retorna a si mesmo: começa com a criação, termina com a recriação do céu e da terra. O Espírito Santo não tem nesta dispensação outra tarefa senão aplicar a obra de Cristo e explicar a palavra de Cristo; a nenhuma das duas acrescenta nada de novo. A obra de Cristo não precisa ser suplementada pelas boas obras dos crentes; a palavra de Cristo não precisa ser suplementada pela tradição da igreja; o próprio Cristo não precisa ser sucedido e substituído pelo papa. A doutrina romana da tradição é a negação da perfeita encarnação de Deus em Cristo, da suficiência plena do seu sacrifício, da perfeição da sua palavra. A história da igreja romana mostra-nos o processo lentamente continuado pelo qual um princípio falso se insinua e a princípio ainda se põe abaixo de Cristo e da sua palavra, depois se põe ao lado dela, logo se levanta acima dela, para terminar numa completa substituição da Escritura pela tradição, de Cristo pelo papa, da comunidade pelo instituto. O desenvolvimento certamente ainda não chegou ao fim. Parece uma anomalia que o papa, que gradualmente se elevou acima da Escritura, da igreja, do concílio e da tradição, seja nomeado por homens falíveis, ainda que sejam cardeais. Quem melhor do que ele, que é ele mesmo infalível, poderia designar o seu sucessor? Assim é bem possível que a soberania papal se mostre no futuro incompatível com o poder dos cardeais. Em todo caso, o caminho da deificação do homem por Roma ainda não foi percorrido até o fim.

22. Nem por isso, contudo, se nega tudo o que de bom e verdadeiro está encerrado na doutrina da tradição. A palavra tradição tem sentido mais amplo que o que Roma lhe dá. Roma entende por ela uma doutrina transmitida pelos apóstolos, conservada pelos bispos, especialmente pelo papa, e por ele determinada e proclamada; mas essa concepção mostrou-se insustentável. A tradição, porém, pode também ser entendida daquela vida religiosa inteira — pensar, sentir, agir — que se encontra em toda comunidade religiosa e acha a sua expressão em toda sorte de formas, costumes, usos, linguagem e literatura religiosas, confissão e liturgia. Nesse sentido há tradição em toda religião. E o conceito pode estender-se ainda mais, a todos aqueles ricos e múltiplos laços que ligam as gerações seguintes às precedentes: nesse sentido nenhuma família, nenhuma linhagem, nenhuma sociedade, nenhum povo, nenhuma arte, nenhuma ciência pode existir sem tradição. A tradição é o meio pelo qual todos os tesouros e bens dos antepassados são transferidos ao presente e ao futuro. Contra o individualismo e o atomismo do século passado, o significado da comunidade, da autoridade, da língua e da tradição foi de novo posto na luz mais clara.

Uma tal tradição existe certamente também na religião e na igreja. Já a universalidade indica que não se trata aqui de um fenômeno acidental: encontramos tradição não só na igreja romana, mas também entre os judeus, os maometanos e os budistas. Nas religiões superiores acresce ainda outra razão para a necessidade da tradição: todas estão ligadas a uma escritura sagrada, que surgiu num tempo determinado e nesse sentido vem, cada vez mais, a ficar mais distante da geração ora vivente. Também a Bíblia é um livro escrito em séculos há muito passados e sob toda sorte de circunstâncias históricas; os diversos livros da Bíblia trazem o caráter do tempo em que surgiram. Por mais clara que a Escritura seja na doutrina da salvação, e por mais que seja e permaneça a viva vox Dei, ela requer, contudo, para o reto entendimento, muitas vezes toda sorte de conhecimento histórico, arqueológico e geográfico. Os tempos mudaram, e com os tempos os homens, a sua vida, o seu pensar e o seu sentir. É necessária, portanto, uma tradição, para conservar a conexão entre a Escritura e a vida religiosa deste tempo. Tradição em bom sentido é a interpretação e a aplicação da verdade eterna na fala e na vida da geração presente. Uma Escritura sem tal tradição é impossível.

Muitas seitas, antes e depois, tentaram-no de fato: não queriam saber de nada senão das palavras e letras da Escritura; rejeitavam toda terminologia dogmática não usada na Escritura; reprovavam toda formação e ciência teológicas; e às vezes chegavam a exigir a aplicação literal das leis civis de Israel e dos preceitos do Sermão da Montanha. Mas todas essas direções condenaram-se com isso a uma ruína certa, ou ao menos a uma vida lânguida: põem-se fora da sociedade e carecem de toda influência sobre o seu povo e o seu tempo. A Escritura não está aí para ser decorada de fora e repetida como papagaio, mas para entrar na vida humana plena e rica e formá-la, guiá-la e conduzi-la a atividade independente em todo domínio. A Reforma pôs-se por isso em outro ponto de vista. Não rejeitou toda tradição como tal: foi reforma, não revolução. Não tentou criar tudo de novo, mas sim purificar tudo de erro e de abuso segundo a regra da palavra de Deus. Por isso permaneceu firme sobre o largo fundamento cristão do símbolo apostólico e dos primeiros concílios; por isso foi favorável a uma ciência teológica que interpretasse no pensamento a verdade da Escritura na língua do presente.

A diferença entre Roma e a Reforma na concepção da tradição consiste nisto: Roma quer uma tradição que corra independentemente ao lado da Escritura, uma traditio juxta Scripturam, ou antes ainda uma Scriptura juxta traditionem; a Reforma reconhece apenas uma tradição que se funda na Escritura e dela flui, uma traditio e Scriptura fluens. A Escritura era, segundo o pensamento da Reforma, um princípio orgânico do qual toda a tradição — vivendo na pregação, na confissão, na liturgia, no culto, na teologia, na literatura religiosa — cresceu e é nutrida; uma fonte pura de água viva, da qual todos os riachos e canais da vida religiosa são alimentados e mantidos. Uma tal tradição funda-se na própria Escritura. Quando Jesus consumou a sua obra, envia o Espírito Santo, que de fato nada acrescenta de novo à revelação, mas conduz a igreja à verdade, até que, através de toda diversidade, ela chegue à unidade da fé e do conhecimento do Filho de Deus, Ef 4.13. Nesse sentido há uma tradição boa, verdadeira e gloriosa. É o caminho pelo qual o Espírito Santo faz passar a verdade da Escritura à consciência e à vida da igreja. Pois a Escritura é apenas meio, e não fim. O fim é que a igreja, instruída pela Escritura, anuncie livre e independentemente as virtudes daquele que a chamou das trevas para a sua maravilhosa luz. O verbum externum é instrumento, o verbum internum é fim. A Escritura alcançou o seu destino quando todos forem ensinados pelo Senhor e cheios do Espírito Santo.

§ 13. O significado do princípio interno

1. Ao principium externum, tratado no capítulo anterior, deve corresponder no próprio homem um principium internum. Toda vida, como a define Spencer, consiste no ajustamento contínuo de relações internas a relações externas; e a vida do homem repousa inteira sobre uma correspondência recíproca entre sujeito e objeto. O homem depende em tudo do mundo fora dele; em nenhum domínio é autônomo, vive do que lhe é dado, isto é, da graça. Mas, reciprocamente, está adaptado a esse mundo inteiro e ligado a ele por toda sorte de relações. Seu corpo é tomado do pó da terra e composto dos mesmos elementos que os demais corpos, aparentado portanto com o mundo físico: ele é um microcosmo, terreno da terra. Como anima sensitiva, recebeu nos sentidos órgãos com que percebe e representa para si o mundo exterior em suas várias relações; pelo logos que nele há, eleva-se ao mundo das coisas inteligíveis e rastreia o logos que se corporificou no visível. E assim também, religiosa e eticamente, o homem está em relação com um verdadeiro mundo de bens ideais e espirituais e recebeu uma facultas de perceber e conhecer esse mundo. A investigação sobre a essência da religião já nos conduziu antes a certa disposição religiosa no homem, a uma receptividade de sua natureza para perceber o divino. A Escritura o exprime dizendo que o homem foi criado à imagem de Deus, que é geração dele e que possui na mente um órgão para notar a revelação de Deus em sua criação. A religião pressupõe que o homem é aparentado com Deus.

Mas, ainda que essa receptividade religiosa seja própria da natureza humana, ela é uma abstração e nunca ocorre na realidade em estado puro e sem conteúdo. Por mais rica que seja a aptidão para a ciência ou para a arte escondida numa criança, ela nasce em estado de desamparo e depende da graça do seu meio: alimento e abrigo, representações e conceitos, sensações e desejos, tudo recebemos do círculo em que nascemos e fomos criados. Também a religião nos é impressa por nossos pais e educadores. Dá-se com a religião como com a língua: trazemos conosco, ao nascer, a capacidade de falar, mas a língua em que mais tarde exprimiremos nossos pensamentos é-nos dada pelo meio. Schopenhauer observa com razão que as religiões gozam de grande privilégio sobre os sistemas filosóficos, porque são impressas nas crianças desde a juventude. A religião cresce desde a infância junto com a vida mais íntima e mais terna, e é por isso quase inextirpável. A regra é que se morre na religião em que se nasceu; salvo em tempos de crise religiosa, como no surgimento do cristianismo, do islamismo, da Reforma, as conversões são raras, e a mudança de religião é a exceção. A maioria vive e morre sem jamais ter sido abalada por dúvida séria em sua fé religiosa; a pergunta por que creem na verdade das representações religiosas em que foram criados não lhes ocorre ao pensamento. Creem, acham na fé maior ou menor satisfação e não refletem sobre os fundamentos em que sua convicção repousa. Se a fé é forte, não há lugar para tal investigação. Quem tem fome não indaga primeiro o modo como foi preparado o pão que lhe põem diante: primum vivere, deinde philosophari. Há grande diferença entre viver e refletir. Não é prova de riqueza, mas de pobreza da vida religiosa, que a maior atenção seja dedicada às questões formais: quando a força filosófica de pensamento se esgota, lança-se à história da filosofia; e quando a fé perde o seu poder e a sua confiança, institui-se uma investigação sobre os fundamentos em que ela repousa.

2. Tal investigação tem, contudo, o seu lado bom e útil. Kant transformou toda a filosofia numa crítica da faculdade de conhecer, e ninguém desprezará as investigações que desde então se dedicaram à natureza e à certeza do nosso conhecimento. Mas a expectativa demasiado tensa é aqui sempre seguida de decepção. Os problemas são tão complicados que a solução parece inatingível, e todas as tentativas de chegar a uma resposta satisfatória são oneradas por objeções sérias. Levantam-se por vezes vozes que desaconselham prosseguir na investigação, por ser de todo inútil: essas questões formais não têm influência alguma sobre a própria ciência; seja-se idealista ou empirista, realista ou nominalista, não há em caso algum ciência a obter senão pelo caminho da observação e do pensamento. Também na teologia e na religião há razão para advertir contra expectativas exageradas. A teoria do conhecimento não compensa a fé; a pars formalis da dogmática não pode substituir a pars materialis.

A investigação sobre os fundamentos do crer é, aliás, muito mais difícil do que a investigação sobre os fundamentos do saber. Em primeiro lugar, é em geral impossível aos crentes prestar contas a si mesmos, em sentido científico, das razões por que creem: a sua vida a partir da fé é, para eles próprios, prova bastante da verdade e do valor dessa fé. Além disso, é exigência exagerada, mesmo aos teólogos científicos, que provem de antemão o direito científico da teoria do conhecimento de que partem, antes que lhes seja lícito dar começo ao trabalho teológico, como quer Ritschl. Um teólogo não é, afinal, um filósofo; ainda que a formação filosófica lhe seja indispensável, não precisa ter investigado antes todas as teorias filosóficas do conhecimento para poder apresentar-se como teólogo. A teologia traz consigo a sua própria teoria do conhecimento e é dependente da filosofia, mas não de nenhum sistema filosófico. E, por fim, o objeto da investigação jaz aqui tão profundamente escondido na vida da alma e está tão intimamente entretecido com as moções mais finas e mais ternas do coração humano, que escapa quase inteiramente à nossa própria observação e muito mais ainda à observação alheia. A religião está enraizada na natureza humana mais fundo do que qualquer outro poder: por ela o homem abandona tudo, os seus bens, a sua mulher e o seu filho, o seu nome, a sua honra, a sua vida; só a religião tem testemunhas de sangue, mártires. Conservando-a, o homem pode perder tudo e ainda assim conserva-se a si mesmo; negando-a, perde-se a si mesmo. Quem, então, poderá rastrear a raiz dessa vida, que é uma só com a vida do homem, e pôr a nu o fundamento sobre o qual repousa o crer? A própria fé já é um poder admirável e misterioso; descrevemo-la pelo conhecer, pelo assentir, pelo confiar, mas sentimos logo a fraqueza dessa definição e, depois de longo raciocínio, no fim ainda nada ou muito pouco dissemos. A pergunta como e por que conheço é tão difícil que toda a força filosófica de pensamento ainda não lhe achou resposta; mais difícil ainda é a pergunta como e por que creio. Para nós mesmos é um enigma, pois não podemos descer às profundezas do nosso próprio espírito nem penetrar com o olhar na escuridão que jaz por trás da nossa consciência. E para os outros é ocultação ainda maior: valem para nós, como fundamentos da fé, toda sorte de disposições e emoções, ponderações e afetos que acompanham a fé e nos prendem inseparavelmente ao objeto dela; mas essas não as podemos comunicar a ninguém, não são destinadas a revelação alguma nem são suscetíveis de comunicação. Quando o tentamos, perdem sob a comunicação a sua força e o seu valor, e é muitas vezes o fim que aquilo que se indicou como fundamento não resiste à prova e se mostra não ser fundamento nenhum. E, no entanto, a fé, apesar de todo raciocínio, mantém-se e diz: não posso fazer de outro modo, Deus me ajude, amém.

3. Não surpreende, portanto, que os fundamentos da fé religiosa, e assim também da fé cristã, sejam indicados de modo muito diverso. À pergunta de como alguém chega à fé e por que crê, as respostas divergem amplamente. Alguns julgam que o homem possui em si mesmo, em sua própria natureza, dados suficientes para discernir, julgar e aceitar uma representação religiosa, a revelação, a Escritura. Ora se busca o órgão desse juízo e dessa aceitação no entendimento — e a fé repousa então sobre fundamentos histórico-apologéticos; ora se indica a razão como tal órgão — e a fé é edificada sobre o raciocínio especulativo; ora se tem a consciência moral, a disposição, o coração por órgão do divino — e a fé assenta então sobre motivos ético-práticos. Mas sempre se pressupõe, nessas direções, um homem que porventura foi de algum modo preparado para a revelação, mas que de fato ainda está fora da fé e diante do qual a revelação precisa agora justificar-se por via intelectual ou moral.

A investigação seguinte ensinará que esses fundamentos são insuficientes e que o ponto de vista adotado por essas tendências não pode ser aceito. Mas já a priori se deixa ver a inadequação desses métodos. A religião é uma grandeza independente, essencialmente distinta da ciência, da arte e da moral; tem o seu próprio principium cognoscendi externum, a saber, a revelação, e exige por isso também o seu próprio principium cognoscendi internum. Assim como o olho corresponde à luz, assim à revelação objetiva deve corresponder no homem um órgão subjetivo. A receptividade religiosa em geral, a semen religionis, não pode entrar em consideração para isso. Pois, em primeiro lugar, ela nunca e em parte alguma ocorre em estado puro e sem conteúdo: desde o primeiro despertar já cresceu dentro de uma religião histórica e acomodou-se a ela. E, em segundo lugar, a revelação parte na Escritura do pressuposto de que o homem está corrompido também nessa sua disposição religiosa e carece de recriação. Ela destruiria a si mesma se reconhecesse no homem psíquico o seu juiz competente. Põe-se diante dele numa relação inteiramente outra: não se coloca abaixo dele nem se submete ao seu juízo, mas está muito acima dele e nada pede senão fé e obediência. A Escritura declara expressamente que o homem psíquico não entende as coisas do Espírito de Deus, que elas lhe são loucura, que as rejeita e as desconhece com inimizade. A revelação de Deus em Cristo não pede apoio nem justificação dos homens: põe-se e mantém-se em alta majestade, e a sua auctoritas é normativa mas também causativa — ela mesma luta pelo seu triunfo, conquista para si os corações e faz-se irresistível.

Por isso a revelação se reparte em duas grandes dispensações. Terminada a economia do Filho, a da revelação objetiva, entra a do Espírito. Também dessa revelação subjetiva Deus é o autor; dele procede a ação, ele é o primeiro e o último. O homem não vem à revelação e não busca a Deus; Deus busca o homem, busca-o no Filho e busca-o também no Espírito. Se Deus nos falou nestes últimos dias pelo Filho, vem então o Espírito Santo, que toma perante o mundo a causa de Cristo, defende a sua palavra e inclina à obediência os corações dos homens. O Espírito Santo é a grande e poderosa Testemunha de Cristo, objetivamente na Escritura, subjetivamente no espírito do próprio homem. Nesse Espírito recebe o homem um órgão adequado para a revelação exterior. Deus só pode ser conhecido por Deus; só na sua luz se vê a luz: ninguém conhece o Pai senão aquele a quem o Filho o quiser revelar, e ninguém pode dizer que Jesus é o Senhor senão pelo Espírito Santo. Deus é, pois, o principium essendi da religião e da teologia; a revelação objetiva em Cristo, depositada na Escritura, é o seu principium cognoscendi externum; e o Espírito Santo, que foi derramado na congregação, a regenera e a conduz à verdade, é o seu principium cognoscendi internum. Nesse testemunho do Espírito Santo a revelação se fecha e alcança o seu alvo, pois é o beneplácito de Deus recriar a humanidade à sua imagem e semelhança. A revelação objetiva não basta; ela deve continuar e completar-se na revelação subjetiva. Mais ainda: aquela é apenas meio, esta é fim. O principium externum é instrumental; o principium internum é o principium formale e principale.

Por isso a igreja cristã fez em todos os tempos confissão do testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Deus é o autor da revelação externa, mas é também aquele que elege a congregação, funda a igreja e nela dá testemunho de Cristo; a Escritura é a sua palavra, a congregação é o seu templo. Nisso há unanimidade na confissão de todas as igrejas: não o homem natural, mas somente o homem espiritual conhece as coisas que por Deus lhe foram dadas. De resto, porém, há grande diferença acerca desse testemunho do Espírito Santo, sobretudo entre a igreja de Roma e as igrejas da Reforma. Segundo Roma, a Escritura é dada à igreja, e isso à igreja como instituto, e só por meio dela aos crentes. A igreja recebe, conserva, autoriza e explica a Escritura Sagrada; toda revelação de Deus aos crentes é mediada pelo instituto da igreja, que está sempre entre Deus e os crentes. A igreja é mediadora, medium gratiae, principium externum; ela é o templo do Espírito Santo, e o testimonium Spiritus Sancti se exprime em Roma somente pela igreja como instituto, pela ecclesia docens, pelo magistério, pelo papa. Segundo a Reforma, porém, a revelação, a Escritura, é dada também à igreja, mas à igreja como organismo, à congregação, aos crentes. Eles é que são o templo do Espírito Santo; o testimonium Spiritus Sancti é propriedade de todos os crentes, e onde dois ou três estão reunidos em nome de Jesus, ali está ele no meio deles. Em Roma o instituto é a essência da igreja; segundo a Reforma, ele é um auxílio temporário, e a essência da igreja está na assembleia dos crentes: essa é a habitação de Deus, o corpo de Cristo, o templo do Espírito Santo.

§ 14. O método histórico-apologético

1. Mal o cristianismo penetrou no mundo greco-romano, viu-se chamado a uma luta séria. Judeus e pagãos o atacaram e levantaram contra ele objeções de toda espécie. No século II surgiram então os apologistas, que procuraram aparar esses ataques e defender o cristianismo, escrevendo contra os judeus e, em número muito maior, contra os pagãos. Nessas obras avançam-se, em favor da verdade do cristianismo, os seguintes argumentos: a) entre duas coisas incertas, é mais seguro crer naquela que traz alguma esperança do que naquela que não traz nenhuma; b) a concordância do cristianismo com o que há de melhor e mais fino entre os pagãos, com as "sementes da verdade" que também neles ainda se encontram pela operação do Logos; c) a excelência do cristianismo sobre as religiões pagãs, tal que toda alma humana involuntariamente lhe dá testemunho; d) a influência moral do cristianismo sobre a doutrina e sobre a vida, pela qual desapareceram os pecados horríveis da idolatria, da feitiçaria, do ódio, da avareza e da crueldade; e) a constância dos mártires e a santidade dos ascetas; f) as predições e o seu cumprimento; g) os milagres, não só no tempo antigo mas também no presente; h) o caráter e a vida santos de Jesus e dos apóstolos; i) o testemunho da Escritura, a concordância das Escrituras entre si, a linguagem simples, o conteúdo divino, que nenhuma razão humana poderia produzir, junto com a origem, a conservação e a difusão admiráveis da Escritura; e, finalmente, j) o testemunho da tradição e da igreja.

Esses argumentos obtiveram desde então cidadania geral na teologia cristã. O conteúdo das verdades sobrenaturais era incompreensível à razão, diz Tomás; tanto mais importava, portanto, provar que Deus se havia revelado. Todas as provas que se podiam aduzir para isso foram resumidas sob o nome de rationes inductivae ou motiva credibilitatis. Depois da Reforma, desenvolveu-se sobretudo o argumento tirado da igreja. Em Roma, a igreja tornou-se cada vez mais fundamentum et regula fidei; já Agostinho dissera que fora movido pela igreja a crer na Escritura, e os católicos romanos, depois da Reforma, fizeram da igreja o fundamento mais forte da fé na Escritura, na revelação. Os motiva credibilitatis eram muitas vezes divididos em três espécies: os que valem diante de judeus e pagãos; os que têm significado especialmente para os próprios católicos romanos; e os que têm força contra os hereges. A este último grupo pertence sobretudo a igreja, com as suas quinze notae, enumeradas por Belarmino. O que os reformadores diziam da Escritura aplica-se à igreja: é como o sol, que espalha os seus raios e pode ser facilmente conhecido pela sua própria luz. Entre as provas da revelação, a igreja ocupa o primeiro e o mais alto lugar; é, de todos, o motivo mais poderoso para a fé. O Concílio Vaticano declarou que só à Igreja católica pertence tudo o que foi divinamente disposto, em tanta abundância e de modo tão admirável, para a evidente credibilidade da fé cristã; e que a própria Igreja, por sua propagação admirável, sua eminente santidade, sua fecundidade inexaurível em todos os bens, sua unidade católica e sua estabilidade invicta, é um grande e perpétuo motivum credibilitatis e um testemunho irrefragável de sua missão divina.

O valor de todas essas provas, também da tirada da igreja, consiste em que podem demonstrar a credibilidade da revelação. São capazes de produzir uma fides humana e de provar a razoabilidade de crer. Tornam a verdade da revelação clara em tal grau e a tal altura que toda dúvida razoável fica excluída; se, da parte do homem, nenhum interesse próprio pecaminoso e nenhuma hostilidade do coração entrassem em jogo, esses motivos seriam bastante poderosos para mover à fé na revelação. Não fazem, é certo, a revelação evidenter vera — pois então nenhuma fé seria já necessária, e à fé faltaria também todo mérito —, mas sim evidenter credibilis. Por isso os teólogos romanos costumam recolher na dogmática todos esses argumentos da apologética e tratá-los longamente. Alguns foram ao ponto de considerar essas provas suficientes também para o incrédulo; mas a maioria reconheceu que todas elas eram apenas motivos e não constituíam o último e mais profundo fundamento da fé. Este só pode ser a autoridade de Deus. E essa fé na revelação, com base na autoridade de Deus, não se produz por aquelas provas, mas por um auxilium dei, um instinctus interior, que move a vontade à fé. Também o Concílio Vaticano reconheceu, de um lado, que a fé é uma virtus supernaturalis pela qual, inspirando e ajudando a graça de Deus, cremos serem verdadeiras as coisas por ele reveladas, não por causa da verdade intrínseca das coisas percebida pela luz natural da razão, mas por causa da autoridade do próprio Deus que revela. De outro lado, contudo, atribuiu grande valor aos argumentos apologéticos e acrescentou logo: para que, não obstante, a submissão da nossa fé fosse conforme à razão, quis Deus que aos auxílios internos do Espírito Santo se juntassem os argumentos externos de sua revelação, que são sinais certíssimos da revelação divina e acomodados à inteligência de todos. Chegou mesmo a condenar quem dissesse que a revelação divina não pode tornar-se crível por sinais externos e que, portanto, os homens devem ser movidos à fé apenas pela experiência interna de cada um ou por inspiração privada.

Essa valorização da apologética em Roma está, por sua vez, em coerência com todo o sistema. A revelação sobrenatural é erguida sobre o fundamento da natural, e a esta só se chega sucessivamente e por degraus. O homem in puris naturalibus chega primeiro, por provas, à theologia naturalis: estes são os praeambula fidei, e aqui é possível até ciência, pois as provas são convincentes; em si, ainda não há aqui questão de fé. Quem chegou até aí, e está sobre o fundamento da teologia natural, pode em seguida, pelos motiva credibilitatis e sobretudo pelos signa e notae ecclesiae, ver a credibilidade da revelação e reconhecer a razoabilidade de crer. E, obtida assim a fides humana, e tendo o homem se preparado pelos actus praeparatorii, é ele pela gratia infusa elevado à ordem sobrenatural e prepara-se de novo, pelas boas obras, para o céu, para a visio Dei. O homem sai do estado de natureza para cima, por degraus, cada vez um grau mais alto: pura naturalia, theologia naturalis, motiva credibilitatis, actus praeparatorii, gratia infusa, bona opera, visio Dei formam os degraus da escada que se apoia na terra e alcança o céu.

2. A Reforma combateu de fato, em princípio, essa hierarquia de Roma e adotou outro ponto de partida. Não se pôs na razão natural, para conduzi-la sucessivamente até a fé, mas na fé cristã. E declarou do modo mais decidido possível, como adiante se mostrará, que essa fé repousa unicamente na autoridade de Deus e é operada unicamente pelo Espírito Santo. Mas os teólogos protestantes nem sempre mantiveram estritamente esse princípio e voltaram repetidas vezes à doutrina da theologia naturalis e das provas históricas da verdade da revelação. Calvino diz que lhe seria fácil provar a divindade da Sagrada Escritura, e aduz para isso vários fundamentos; e assim falam e agem muitos teólogos reformados e luteranos. A convicção de que essas provas bastavam para produzir ao menos uma fides humana contribuiu involuntariamente para emancipar a razão da fé e para colocar os dogmas da teologia natural e da Sagrada Escritura fora da fides salvifica. Com isso começou também o racionalismo nas igrejas protestantes. O socinianismo rejeitou o testimonium Spiritus Sancti e fundou a verdade do cristianismo em provas históricas; o remonstrantismo seguiu o mesmo caminho, com Episcópio, Limborch e Hugo Grócio. Por Descartes o racionalismo penetrou também nas igrejas reformadas: a teologia natural passou a estar independentemente ao lado da teologia revelada, e dentro desta concedeu-se à razão o direito de investigar e explicar as credenciais da revelação. Leibniz exprimiu a opinião geralmente dominante ao pôr a revelação diante da razão como um enviado extraordinário diante de uma assembleia competente: esta examina as suas credenciais e, achando-as genuínas, vai ouvi-lo respeitosamente. O deísmo na Inglaterra e o racionalismo na Alemanha logo inferiram daí que a teologia natural era inteiramente suficiente. E o supranaturalismo, que concedera a emancipação da razão na teologia natural e na investigação da verdade da revelação, não podia comparecer diante dessa razão senão com provas históricas e racionais. Desse modo foi o cristianismo defendido e a dogmática trabalhada por homens na Inglaterra, na Alemanha e nos Países Baixos — Butler, Paley e Chalmers entre eles —, e reencontramos mais tarde o mesmo ponto de vista em Van Oosterzee, que, tendo primeiro adotado a posição de Schleiermacher, buscou depois salvação numa apologética que precedesse a dogmática, e em Doedes, que por investigação isenta e puramente histórica quer chegar a conhecer o cristianismo.

3. Mas esse ponto de vista mostrou-se insustentável pela história do próprio supranaturalismo e pela crítica aguda de Rousseau e Lessing, de Kant e Schleiermacher. A apologética tem, sem dúvida, direito de existir; foi-lhe confiada uma tarefa importante: manter e defender a verdade de Deus contra toda oposição, de dentro e de fora. Por várias circunstâncias caiu ela em desprezo imerecido. Perdeu, em primeiro lugar, o amor de muitos pela fraqueza e pela sutileza dos argumentos que apresentava contra a oposição séria e científica à fé cristã. Depois, passou cada vez mais a inspirar aversão pelo pressuposto de que muitas vezes partia, a saber, que o cristianismo era uma doutrina demonstrável racionalmente. Além disso, o medo da ciência, que falava em tom tão altivo e proclamava tão infalivelmente os seus dogmas, muitas vezes desviou os crentes da defesa: continuava-se a crer, mas retirava-se com ansiedade, evitando todo contato com a ciência, e às vezes refugiando-se avidamente no misticismo ou no agnosticismo. Não há, contudo, razão para desprezar a apologética. Os apologistas do segundo século, os pais da igreja, os escolásticos, os reformadores, todos estiveram na fé firme de que a verdade de Deus, contra a oposição a que de todos os lados estava exposta, devia e podia ser defendida. Não deixaram os ataques sem resposta; procuraram o inimigo e não descansaram enquanto não o venceram. Essa fé já é uma força e quase meia vitória; a dúvida e a desconfiança na causa que defendemos tornam-nos impotentes na luta.

Mas com isso já fica indicado também o ponto de vista único a partir do qual se pode empreender uma boa defesa da verdade. A apologética não pode preceder a fé nem tenta provar a priori a verdade da revelação. Pressupõe a verdade e a fé na verdade; está sobre o fundamento da dogmática e procura então manter e defender o dogma contra a oposição a que é submetido. Se, ao contrário, a revelação cristã, que pressupõe a treva e o erro do homem psíquico, se submetesse de antemão ao juízo da razão dele, contradir-se-ia a si mesma: colocar-se-ia diante de um tribunal cuja competência primeiro negara. E, uma vez reconhecido o direito da razão nos principia, logo não poderia mais contestá-lo nos articuli fidei. O supranaturalismo tem de conduzir sempre ao racionalismo, porque em princípio já é racionalista.

Mas, à parte essa objeção de princípio, também a prova histórico-apologética não conduz ao resultado desejado. Podia ainda chegar a alguma distância num tempo em que a autenticidade dos livros bíblicos e a verdade histórica do seu conteúdo ainda estavam bastante geralmente firmadas. Mas os milagres e as profecias da Escritura carecem agora eles mesmos de tal modo de defesa, que já não podem de nenhum modo servir de argumentos. A apologética, para provar alguma coisa, teria primeiro de tratar toda a chamada ciência introdutória e de recolher em si numerosas outras disciplinas, antes de poder começar a exposição da verdade; jamais chegaria, por esse caminho, à fé, à dogmática; a pars formalis se dilataria tanto que para a pars materialis não restariam tempo nem lugar. Esse longo caminho poderia ainda ser trilhado por quem tivesse tempo, força e dom bastantes para instituir tal investigação; mas seria totalmente inacessível ao homem simples, que não menos que o douto, e não amanhã mas já agora, neste momento, tem necessidade da paz e do consolo da fé, e que por isso, para a salvação da sua alma, se tornaria dependente de um clericalismo intelectual e tanto mais insuportável. E, suponhamos ainda que isso não fosse objeção predominante e que a investigação histórica fosse para todos o único caminho para o conhecimento da verdade: o resultado obtido nas circunstâncias mais favoráveis não seria outro senão uma fides humana, que amanhã de novo poderia ser abalada e derrubada por outras e melhores investigações. A eternidade não pode pender de uma teia de aranha. Na religião nenhum homem e nenhuma criatura pode estar entre Deus e a minha alma. Viver e morrer consolado e bem-aventurado não é possível enquanto eu repousar num testemunho humano e falível. Na religião há necessidade não de uma certeza menor, mas de uma muito mais forte e mais firme do que na ciência. Aqui só há repouso no testemunho de Deus.

Também o testemunho da igreja é insuficiente. Ele é de grande valor não só na origem, mas também na continuação da fé cristã; permanece um apoio até o fim da vida, um motivum perpetuum para a fé. Estamos ligados, em toda a nossa vida, a uma comunidade; o homem é um animal político, e a comunidade nos mantém de pé cada vez que ameaçamos tropeçar, pois é preciso coragem e força de espírito incomuns para permanecer firme quando todos nos abandonam e se põem contra nós. Ainda assim, e por isso mesmo, o testemunho da igreja não pode ser o último e mais profundo fundamento da fé. Os próprios teólogos romanos o reconhecem, como adiante se verá. Na investigação dos fundamentos da fé, eles não estão de modo algum em melhor condição, com a sua igreja infalível, do que os protestantes. Pois também eles têm de pôr a pergunta: em que repousa a fé na igreja? Se em provas apologéticas, valem contra isso as mesmas objeções levantadas acima. E, se no testimonium Spiritus Sancti, então essa doutrina é a pedra angular da fé cristã.

§ 15. O método especulativo

1. O supranaturalismo caiu sob os golpes de Rousseau e Kant, de Lessing e Schleiermacher, e seguiu-se uma reviravolta poderosa. Em toda parte o classicismo cedeu ao romantismo, ao domínio e à autonomia do sujeito. No primeiro período, com o sentimento da liberdade, a reação foi ao ponto de eliminar tudo quanto era objetivo e de ter o sujeito por suficiente a si mesmo. O sujeito produz, se não a matéria (Fichte), ao menos a forma (Kant) do mundo; o não-eu é produto do eu, a ordem moral do mundo vem a ser pelo próprio homem, e a lei moral é posta livre e soberanamente pelo gênio. Também Schleiermacher adotou de início esse ponto de vista. Mas esse idealismo absoluto conduziu a consequências terríveis, e a Revolução Francesa mostrou quão perigosa era essa autonomia do homem. Havia de existir, contudo, algo objetivo, que se mantivesse firme e tivesse autoridade. Veio assim a restauração, isto é, a tentativa de, conservando o mesmo ponto de partida, voltar do sujeito ao objetivo. Dessa restauração Hegel foi o porta-voz filosófico. Elevou o idealismo subjetivo e ético de Fichte a um idealismo objetivo e lógico, e substituiu a ideia do ser pela do devir. O mundo inteiro tornou-se processo, desdobramento da ideia lógica. Nessa evolução também a religião tem o seu lugar; mas essa religião se vela em formas e símbolos, que só a razão especulativa entende em seu sentido profundo. O racionalismo nada compreendia disso e simplesmente punha de lado os dogmas da igreja, sem saber o que fazer com eles. Ora, esses dogmas estão cheios de sentido filosófico profundo. O espírito de Hegel lançou-se sobre eles, despiu-os de suas formas históricas e simbólicas e rastreou neles a ideia. A história é apenas a casca, o invólucro; o cerne é a filosofia verdadeira e profunda. Não as doutrinas racionalistas — Deus, virtude, imortalidade —, mas os dogmas mais altos e mais profundos do cristianismo, a Trindade, a encarnação, a satisfação, tornam-se objeto de ousada especulação filosófica. Fora da Escritura e fora de toda autoridade, esses dogmas são deduzidos da razão como necessários e provados como sumamente racionais. Teologia e filosofia pareciam reconciliadas; a fé era transformada pela razão especulativa em saber absoluto. Esse método especulativo foi adotado e aplicado à dogmática, com resultados bem diversos, por Daub, Marheineke, Strauss, Feuerbach, Vatke, Weisse e, por último, Biedermann, que se afasta de Hegel em pontos importantes e não aceita o seu método a priori, mas que, partindo dos dogmas cristãos, tenta do mesmo modo analisá-los no princípio religioso que lhes está à base e na expressão histórica que assumiram, para depois desenvolvê-los especulativa e praticamente. Também entre nós Scholten tentou distinguir, nos dogmas reformados, entre roupagem e ideia, e interpretá-los em sentido monista e determinista.

2. Mas esse método especulativo encontrou aceitação igualmente na escola de Schleiermacher. Schleiermacher tinha em comum com Hegel o ponto de partida subjetivo, mas tomava posição não na razão e sim no sentimento: a religião é uma determinação peculiar do sentimento, da consciência imediata de si. Além disso, não concebia esse sentimento individualmente, mas historicamente, tal como existia numa comunidade religiosa e, na congregação cristã em particular, fora formado por Jesus como Redentor. E, finalmente, não via na dogmática desenvolvimento especulativo algum, mas apenas descrição dos estados piedosos de alma, da fé da congregação; em teoria, opôs-se a toda mistura de teologia e filosofia. Por outro lado, porém, sua própria Glaubenslehre (doutrina da fé) mostrava que a sua experiência religiosa se desviava fortemente da experiência da congregação cristã e certamente se formara também sob a influência de Espinosa; e na Breve exposição deu o primeiro lugar à teologia filosófica, incumbida de determinar a essência do cristianismo. De fato, em Schleiermacher a teologia tornou-se inteiramente dependente da filosofia. A teologia de mediação (Vermittelungstheologie) tomou com Schleiermacher o seu ponto de vista na consciência, na fé, na confissão da congregação, mas combinou com isso o método especulativo de Hegel, a fim de elevar a fé a saber e de fazer a autoridade ceder à intelecção racional independente. Em Rothe esse método especulativo aparece com particular clareza: a consciência de Deus é a ideia da qual ele, com o auxílio da dialética hegeliana, deriva toda a criação, a natureza, a história, o pecado, a redenção. Entre os teólogos da mediação — Twesten, Müller, Martensen, Dorner e outros — há grande diversidade, mas todos têm em comum o ponto de partida e o método: partem não de uma autoridade qualquer, mas da consciência cristã da congregação, e buscam a prova da verdade da fé não no apelo a uma autoridade, mas na evidência interna, na necessidade lógica.

3. Também fora do círculo dos teólogos que, em sentido mais estrito, se prendem a Hegel e a Schleiermacher esse método encontrou aceitação. Hofmann não concebe a dogmática como descrição de estados de alma, nem como reprodução da doutrina da Escritura ou da igreja, nem como desenvolvimento do conhecimento cristão a partir de um princípio geral; mas parte, como Schleiermacher, da piedade cristã. A dogmática é o desdobramento daquilo que faz do cristão um cristão, da comunhão pessoal de Deus com o homem mediada por Cristo: "o conhecimento e o enunciado do cristianismo são, antes de tudo, conhecimento de si e enunciado de si do cristão". Philippi e Kahnis têm o mesmo ponto de partida subjetivo, e Ebrard tenta demonstrar na dogmática a verdade e a necessidade dos fatos da redenção, comparando-os em todos os pontos com a necessidade de redenção cientificamente desenvolvida. Foi sobretudo Frank quem assumiu e elaborou esse pensamento. Hofmann tomara posição no estado de fato da comunhão de Deus com o homem: esta repousa em si e traz em si a certeza, e a Escritura lhe dá testemunho; ali não havia lugar para um sistema da certeza cristã — o cristão tem consciência de si, e com isso tudo está dito. Frank não para aí; procura dar conta de por que o cristão crê tudo aquilo que a sua fé contém, e constrói um Sistema da certeza cristã. A teologia, diz ele, deve, à diferença da filosofia, colocar-se não fora, mas no meio da consciência cristã, e de lá examinar e julgar tudo, também o natural. A certeza cristã, afinal, não tem o seu fundamento e a sua essência em provas externas de qualquer espécie, nem numa autoridade externa, mas no próprio cristão, em sua experiência moral e em sua autodeterminação. Essa experiência moral particular é a regeneração e a conversão. O cristão sabe que uma mudança se deu com ele e continuamente ainda se dá, de sorte que nele habitam agora uma dupla direção, um duplo eu; e disso está tão certo quanto um doente restabelecido tem consciência de sua enfermidade passada e de sua saúde presente. Dessa experiência da regeneração ele põe então, por si e de uma vez, todo o conteúdo da verdade cristã, e o faz em virtude da natureza da vida nova que lhe foi concedida, não podendo despojar-se dessa verdade de fé mais do que de si mesmo. Em três círculos essa verdade de fé se agrupa em torno da experiência da regeneração. Primeiro, o cristão põe, em virtude de sua vida nova, as verdades dadas direta e imediatamente com o fato da regeneração: a realidade do pecado, da justiça e da perfeição futura — o domínio das verdades centrais, imanentes, que pertencem ainda inteiramente à consciência de si do cristão. Em torno disso forma-se um segundo círculo: o crente só pode explicar essa condição nova pela realidade do Deus pessoal, pela existência de Deus como triúno e pela reconciliação obtida pelo Deus-homem — as verdades transcendentes, que indicam os fatores que produziram nele aquela mudança moral. E, finalmente, forma-se ainda um terceiro círculo, o das verdades transeuntes, que indicam os meios pelos quais aqueles fatores transcendentes efetuam no cristão a experiência da salvação: igreja, palavra de Deus, Escritura, sacramento, milagres, revelação e inspiração. Por fim, a certeza cristã abrange também uma relação determinada do regenerado com a vida natural, com o mundo e a humanidade.

4. Esse método especulativo teve vantagens importantes sobre o método apologético do período racionalista. A clareza, que no século anterior era tida por padrão da verdade, mudara a revelação em doutrina, a igreja em escola, a regeneração em melhoramento moral, o Cristo crucificado no sábio de Nazaré. O racionalismo falsificara toda a religião cristã, e com desprezo os cultos se afastavam da revelação e da religião, da congregação e da fé. Foi preciso coragem, como a de Schleiermacher e Hegel, para voltar à congregação e aos seus dogmas e descobrir neles, ainda que apenas em certo sentido, verdade religiosa profunda; foi mostra de força moral romper com a exigência racionalista de clareza, tomar a causa da religião desprezada da congregação e proclamar de novo o direito e o valor da fé cristã. Mais ainda: havia no ponto de partida de Hegel e Schleiermacher uma verdade gloriosa. Pensar e ser estão intimamente aparentados e correspondem um ao outro. O racionalismo quis justificar a religião perante o tribunal incompetente do senso comum; mas ambos viram que a religião ocupa lugar próprio na vida humana, que forma uma grandeza independente e que por isso exige também na natureza humana o seu órgão correspondente. Diferiram entre si na indicação desse órgão — um o buscou na razão, o outro no sentimento —, mas ambos se ergueram acima do racionalismo vulgar e ambos apontaram para a harmonia entre sujeito e objeto. Se, com o seu ponto de partida subjetivo, não tivessem querido dizer outra coisa, a sua vitória sobre o racionalismo mereceria apenas aplauso. Pois o objetivo não existe para nós senão na medida em que vem à nossa consciência; não há como abordá-lo por outro caminho. E a religião também não é realidade para mim senão na medida em que a acolhi no sentimento ou na razão, ou seja qual for o seu órgão no homem.

Mas Hegel e Schleiermacher não se contentaram com a proposição de que pensar e ser se correspondem: identificaram um com o outro. Essa identificação de pensar e ser é o erro primordial da filosofia especulativa. Dela já partia Platão, quando tinha as ideias pelo mundo verdadeiro, e Descartes retomou-a em seu cogito ergo sum, como Espinosa em sua causa sui, cuja essência envolve a existência. A grande questão é esta: pensamos algo porque ele existe, ou algo existe porque temos de pensá-lo necessária e logicamente? A filosofia especulativa disse o segundo. Mas entre pensar e ser, por maior que seja a concordância, há uma distinção não menos essencial. Do pensar não se conclui ao ser, porque o ser de todas as criaturas não é emanação do pensamento, mas repousa num ato de poder. A essência das coisas há de ser atribuída ao pensar; a existência, somente à vontade de Deus. O pensar humano pressupõe, pois, o ser; ele se levanta primeiro sobre o fundamento do criado, e só podemos repensar o que já foi pensado antes por nós e chega à nossa consciência pelo mundo. Se, porém, com a filosofia moderna se rejeita todo material que nos vem de fora e se toma como ponto de partida a razão pura ou o sentimento abstrato, nada resta, ou quando muito um princípio tão geral, tão vazio e vago que dele nada se pode derivar — muito menos o mundo inteiro, ou a inteira revelação e religião cristã.

A filosofia de Hegel não era, portanto, tão inocente quanto podia parecer de início: era a elaboração e a aplicação da proposição de Fichte, de que o eu põe o não-eu, de que o sujeito cria o objeto. Schleiermacher voltou na teologia a esse princípio porque para ele toda autoridade em religião havia caído, as provas racionais e históricas do cristianismo não o satisfaziam e Deus, em sua opinião, era incognoscível à razão. Assim como Kant quis restaurar pela razão prática o que perdera pela crítica da razão pura, também Schleiermacher não viu possibilidade de salvar a religião senão partindo do sujeito religioso, do sentimento, da consciência. Daí se seguia que a dogmática não podia ser outra coisa senão descrição de estados de alma e que, a rigor, pertencia à teologia histórica. A teologia tornou-se antropologia, pisteologia, eclesiologia, e deixou de ser o que sempre pretendera ser: conhecimento de Deus. Mas Schleiermacher tampouco podia parar aí, pois também em religião não é a realidade que nos importa, mas a verdade. A justificação do cristianismo foi por isso atribuída, na primeira parte da enciclopédia, à filosofia: como não há mais outro fundamento sobre o qual repouse a fé cristã, cabe à filosofia manter a religião em seu direito e valor. A teologia de mediação assumiu o ponto de partida subjetivo de Schleiermacher, seguiu a trilha por ele traçada para a defesa da verdade religiosa e chegou assim, por si mesma, à aliança com o método dialético e especulativo de Hegel. Não podia contentar-se com o conhecimento empírico do conteúdo da consciência cristã: tal conhecimento não era ciência. Não bastava constatar o fato da fé; era preciso demonstrar também o direito e a verdade da fé. E, porque não se tinha outra prova, recorreu-se à especulação. A teologia especulativa que surgiu depois de Schleiermacher aspirava a um conhecimento do cristianismo mais alto do que aquele que repousa na autoridade e se obtém pela fé: era uma renovação do velho gnosticismo. Os dogmas cristãos — a Trindade, a encarnação, a satisfação — não deviam apenas ser confessados como artigos de fé, mas também ser penetrados e compreendidos em sua necessidade; o que não basta, é preciso entender também o como e o porquê. Assim, a teologia especulativa de mediação buscava escapar ao ponto de vista inferior da autoridade e se esforçava por fazer o cristianismo repousar em si mesmo como verdade absoluta. Partia da fé, mas punha o saber por meta; a necessidade de pensamento era para ela a prova da verdade.

Que esse método não levaria a resultado desejável nem na filosofia nem na teologia era previsível, e a história o provou de modo contundente. A refutação é quase supérflua: a especulação já teve o seu tempo. A filosofia de Hegel levou, em Feuerbach e Strauss, à rejeição de toda a fé cristã. O tratamento filosófico da dogmática ortodoxa por Schweizer, Scholten e Biedermann só por pouco tempo encobriu a pobreza dogmática da teologia moderna. A teologia de mediação, mais ortodoxa, pode com razão gloriar-se das obras de Rothe, Dorner, Lange, Martensen e Müller, cheias de pensamentos profundos e belos; mas não correspondeu de modo algum à expectativa que despertara. Não conseguiu mudar a loucura da cruz numa sabedoria do mundo, nem ganhar de novo para Cristo, com suas reflexões profundas, os filhos deste século. Ao contrário: a mediação resultou numa separação ainda mais radical entre crer e saber, entre teologia e filosofia, entre congregação e mundo. A especulação partia, além disso, do pressuposto incorreto de que o cristianismo fosse um sistema lógico de pensamentos, de cujo primeiro membro todos os seguintes se pudessem derivar pelo pensar e pelo raciocinar. Mas se o ser das coisas em geral já não repousa no pensar e sim no querer; se a história, por mais que seja execução de um conselho de Deus, é algo essencialmente diverso de uma conta de aritmética; então muito mais se distingue de um sistema lógico de pensamentos a religião cristã. Pois o cristianismo é história, é história da graça, e a graça é algo diverso e algo mais do que uma conclusão lógica. Na religião cristã, portanto, nem o pensador mais profundo ultrapassa jamais o ponto de vista infantil da autoridade e da fé.

5. A teologia do Dr. Fr. H. R. Frank, professor em Erlangen, falecido em fevereiro de 1894, merece discussão à parte. Frank combate com toda a força os chamados prolegômenos da dogmática e põe em seu lugar um Sistema da certeza cristã. O título, contudo, não é lá muito claro. A certeza é um estado da alma e, como tal, exclui sistema. Se, porém, se toma aqui certeza pelos objetos da fé dos quais o cristão está certo, então "sistema da certeza cristã" vale tanto quanto "sistema da verdade cristã" — e não pode ser essa a intenção, pois foi precisamente esse o título que Frank deu à sua segunda obra importante. Ele mesmo se explica melhor: o sistema tem por objeto a certeza enquanto se estende ao conteúdo de verdade a ser garantido, isto é, a certeza como estado psicológico com tudo aquilo de que ela assegura, na medida em que o assegura. O sistema da certeza cristã vem a ser, por conseguinte, um esquema formal das diversas espécies e graus de certeza que procedem da consciência cristã de si com respeito aos objetos da fé. Ora, não é intenção de Frank que os objetos da fé cristã não existissem de antemão e não fossem conhecidos: declara expressamente o contrário. Tampouco nega que a certeza cristã surja pela palavra, nem quer derivar aquelas verdades objetivas do sujeito regenerado. Mais ainda: depois de haver derivado da consciência cristã de si tudo o que dela decorre e de haver completado todo o sistema da certeza, diz com todas as letras que agora se segue uma inversão e que o último se torna o primeiro — o cristão, de e por sua própria certeza, encontrou o fundamento objetivo sobre o qual repousa com a sua vida de fé, a saber, a graça de Deus em Cristo, e a partir daí edifica então o sistema da verdade cristã. A intenção de Frank é apenas responder à pergunta: como chega um ser humano a apoiar-se naqueles fatores objetivos da salvação — Deus, Cristo, a Sagrada Escritura — e a aceitar a Escritura sem reservas como palavra de Deus? No sistema da certeza cristã, portanto, Frank desenvolve não tanto os fundamentos da fé quanto os caminhos pelos quais o homem chega à certeza acerca das verdades cristãs da fé. E diz, em geral, que o homem obtém essa certeza não por provas históricas ou racionais, e tampouco por autoridade, igreja ou tradição, mas unicamente pela experiência da regeneração.

A pergunta que Frank se propôs responder é da maior importância, e é necessária e boa, pois a certeza cristã não se explica por si e está muitas vezes sujeita à dúvida. Também a resposta que ele dá é, até certo ponto, correta: assim como o olho é necessário para contemplar a luz, assim é preciso a regeneração para ver o reino dos céus. Mas pode-se duvidar de que o seu Sistema da certeza cristã corresponda a essa boa intenção, e há razão para tal dúvida, porque o sistema como tal está em conflito com a intenção declarada. Se Frank não quisesse senão descrever como o crente chega à certeza, teria trazido à luz apenas a origem e a natureza dessa certeza e teria terminado aí. Assim como a teoria do conhecimento apenas desenvolve os fundamentos sobre os quais repousa a crença no mundo exterior, sem derivar dessa certeza cada objeto desse mundo, assim o sistema da certeza cristã devia ter-se contentado em indicar os fundamentos da certeza, sem discutir o seu conteúdo. Mas então também não teria sido possível sistema algum, em sentido próprio, dos diversos objetos a que a certeza se refere. Frank, porém, faz muito mais: dá um sistema. Deriva sucessivamente da regeneração todas as verdades da fé, não em sentido temporal, mas em sentido lógico e causal. Faz o cristão chegar aos poucos, da experiência da regeneração, a todos os dogmas — do pecado, da culpa, de Deus, da Trindade, da encarnação, da ressurreição —, "como se" ele antes, por outro caminho, nada soubesse deles. Fica-nos a impressão de que todas essas verdades podem ser derivadas pelo cristão de sua regeneração, à parte da Escritura e da igreja. Frank confunde continuamente a causa essendi com a causa cognoscendi, o fundamento objetivo da verdade da fé com o caminho subjetivo pelo qual alguém chega à certeza dela; troca e identifica verdade objetiva e certeza subjetiva. Mais de uma vez se exprime como se o regenerado simplesmente pusesse as verdades objetivas da fé como realidades em virtude de sua experiência espiritual, e fala de uma autonomia do sujeito cristão como garante da verdade.

6. Tudo isso radica em Frank numa peculiar teoria do conhecimento. Ele vai um bom trecho com o idealismo da filosofia moderna: o objeto como objeto, isto é, para o sujeito, só está presente por aquele pôr do sujeito. É certo que Frank reconhece a realidade do mundo objetivo, ainda que não em sentido empirista e sensualista; mas o nosso conhecimento nunca tem que ver com a coisa em si e por si, e sim sempre com a coisa para nós. Que atribuamos ao objeto uma existência em si provém de nos vermos forçados a pô-lo assim e não de outro modo; ambas as direções, tanto o empirismo quanto o idealismo, fazem isso, e diferem apenas no modo. A certeza é, portanto, sempre certeza acerca de um objeto, e consiste justamente em ter-se consciência do objeto como da verdade. Por esse raciocínio não vamos além disto: que a nossa mente é constituída de tal maneira que precisa admitir a realidade objetiva dos objetos de que está certa; se, porém, a mente humana faz isso com direito e não padece de alucinação, para Frank não é questão. A necessidade do pôr é para ele o fundamento último da realidade objetiva. A certeza não lhe é essencial, mas, do ponto de vista da teoria do conhecimento, é a garantia da verdade: a realidade é o fundamento do ser da certeza, mas esta é o fundamento do conhecer da realidade.

Essa teoria do conhecimento Frank aplica também à fé cristã. As verdades e os fatos objetivos do cristianismo precedem a fé essencial e causalmente, mas em sentido epistemológico a seguem. Assim como na filosofia toma por ponto de partida a consciência de si do homem, na teologia parte da consciência de si do cristão, da experiência da regeneração. Contra esse ponto de partida e contra esse método há, porém, muitas objeções. a) Essa regeneração do cristão, e igualmente todas as suas demais experiências espirituais, inclusive a sua certeza, não surgiram espontaneamente nele, mas estão desde o princípio e continuamente em conexão com os fatores objetivos da Escritura, da igreja etc. O próprio Frank o reconhece repetidas vezes; mas então, indevidamente, desprende a experiência espiritual a priori desses fatores objetivos, para pô-la à parte e fazê-la repousar em si mesma. O ponto de partida de Frank, a certeza do cristão, é mera abstração: essa certeza repousa desde o começo e sempre sobre os fatores objetivos da salvação, que vêm ao crente de fora. b) Ao reconhecer que a ordem agora se inverte, Frank concede ele mesmo que a regeneração não oferece certeza suficiente para a verdade objetiva da fé cristã. Pois se a ordem objetiva e causal é tal que o objetivo precede, então esta deve ser também a ordem de todo o sistema. O sistema há de ser uma impressão da ordem do ser, e não do modo como alguém chega ao conhecimento e à certeza da verdade objetiva; pois esse modo é tão diverso que não comporta descrição sistemática alguma. c) O método pelo qual Frank constrói os dogmas objetivos a partir da certeza do cristão é tomado de empréstimo à filosofia especulativa e não cabe na religião nem na teologia cristã. Assim como aquela tomava por ponto de partida um princípio geral, abstraído de tudo, vago, assim a consciência de si do cristão, desprendida de todos os fatores objetivos, a sua certeza em si, é para Frank o cogito ergo sum, o "dai-me um ponto de apoio". Daí conclui primeiro às verdades imanentes da fé. Em seguida chama em seu auxílio o método das ciências naturais e conclui regressivamente do efeito à causa: assim como o físico procura conhecer pela análise espectral os componentes químicos do sol, Frank tenta reduzir por análise a vida da regeneração aos seus fatores objetivos. O cristão, refletindo sobre a sua vida espiritual, não a pode explicar senão admitindo que Deus é triúno, que Cristo se fez homem e satisfez por nós. d) Esse método está também em conflito com toda experiência cristã: assim jamais cristão algum chegou à certeza da verdade objetiva; passa inteiramente ao largo da realidade. É, ademais, impraticável, pois na dúvida e na incredulidade falta ao cristão precisamente aquela certeza que, segundo Frank, é a única a garantir-lhe a verdade objetiva de sua fé; em tais tempos ele carece justamente de uma palavra objetiva, de um ato objetivo, que o sustente e ao qual se possa agarrar para erguer-se de novo do fundo da dúvida e da tentação. e) Há, por fim, ainda outras objeções. A passagem do conhecer natural ao espiritual, e do mesmo modo a conexão entre ambos, padecem em Frank de falta de clareza. A distinção de um duplo eu no regenerado está sujeita a toda sorte de mal-entendidos: na regeneração não se cria no homem um eu novo, mas o eu do homem psíquico é renovado. E a divisão da dogmática em sistema da certeza e sistema da verdade não se sustenta, porque a certeza do cristão não pode ser descrita sem a verdade a que se aplica. O que fica dito basta para mostrar que a acusação de subjetivismo, ainda que vaga, não foi levantada de todo injustamente contra a teologia de Frank, tal como contra a de Ritschl.

§ 16. O método ético-psicológico

1. Além das provas históricas e do raciocínio especulativo, há ainda um terceiro caminho pelo qual se procurou justificar a fé cristã: o método ético-psicológico. Ele não concebe o cristianismo como doutrina que se possa demonstrar, nem como fato histórico que se possa provar, mas como um poder religioso-ético que se dirige ao coração e à consciência. Por isso tampouco julga que o cristianismo possa tornar-se aceitável a todo homem sem distinção e em todas as circunstâncias: exige no homem uma disposição moral prévia, um senso para o bem, uma necessidade de redenção, um sentimento de insatisfação. E quando o cristianismo entra em contato com um homem assim, recomenda-se à sua consciência como verdade divina, sem raciocínio e sem prova. Pois satisfaz as suas necessidades religioso-éticas, corresponde às suas inspirações mais nobres, reconcilia-o consigo mesmo, liberta-o da culpa e do peso do pecado, concede-lhe paz, consolo, bem-aventurança — e em tudo isso prova-se como o poder e a sabedoria de Deus.

Essa prova da verdade do cristianismo é antiquíssima. Já Tertuliano apelava para o testemunho que a alma involuntariamente presta a Cristo. Entre os apologistas encontra-se o pensamento de que a filosofia e a mitologia pagãs são incapazes de dar resposta satisfatória às questões acerca de Deus, do homem e do mundo, de satisfazer as necessidades religiosas e de cultivar uma vida verdadeiramente moral; o cristianismo, ao contrário, abrange tudo o que de verdadeiro e bom havia disperso no mundo pagão, dá matéria ao pensamento, renova o coração, cultiva toda espécie de virtudes: o cristianismo é a verdadeira filosofia — tudo quanto foi dito de belo por quem quer que seja, dizia Justino Mártir, pertence a nós, cristãos. Assim também Duns Escoto aponta para a razoabilidade do conteúdo da revelação, para a sua operação moral e para a sua suficiência a fim de que o homem alcance o seu destino. Os argumentos aduzidos por teólogos católicos e protestantes em favor da verdade da revelação não se tiravam apenas dos milagres e das predições, mas também da beleza e majestade do estilo da Escritura, da concordância mútua de todas as suas partes, da sublimidade e divindade do seu conteúdo, da operação e da influência que a religião cristã exerceu sobre a vida intelectual, moral, estética, social e política dos indivíduos, das famílias e dos povos. Até Rousseau não pôde negar louvor à vida e ao ensino de Jesus: se a vida e a morte de Sócrates são as de um sábio, a vida e a morte de Jesus são as de um Deus. O supranaturalismo dividiu as provas do cristianismo em externas e internas, e por estas últimas entendeu justamente aquelas que mostravam a concordância do cristianismo com a natureza racional e moral do homem e que tinham força sobretudo para o coração e a consciência. Os teólogos dessa direção viam também que as provas não bastavam para todo homem sem distinção, que davam certeza não matemática mas moral, e que por isso pressupunham do lado do homem certa disposição moral.

Foi porém sobretudo por Pascal e Vinet que o método ético-psicológico chegou às honras. Em ambos, contudo, ele ainda não se opunha à demonstração histórica. As provas históricas formam mesmo um elemento necessário na apologia de Pascal e eram por ele altamente estimadas; mas ele lhes atribuiu outro lugar e outro significado. A sua apologia é antropológica: parte da miséria do homem e quer despertar nele a necessidade de redenção; e mostra em seguida que essa necessidade não encontra satisfação nas religiões pagãs nem nos sistemas filosóficos, mas somente na religião cristã, preparada pela religião de Israel. Também Vinet não desdenhava as provas históricas, mas julga-as insuficientes e atribui valor maior à prova interior. Quer que o apologista siga o caminho ético e recomende o cristianismo pelo seu lado ético, como a verdadeira humanidade, à consciência do homem. Desde então esse método, com desprezo por vezes declarado das provas históricas, foi adotado e honrado por vários teólogos de língua francesa, holandesa e alemã.

2. Aparentado a esse método está a prova moral, tal como Kant a apresentou. Kant admitia duas fontes do nosso conhecimento: a sensibilidade, para a matéria, e o entendimento, para a forma. Acima delas está, porém, a razão, cujo princípio sintético a priori é este: ascender do condicionado ao incondicionado. Em virtude dessa peculiaridade a razão teórica forma ideias absolutas, incondicionadas, transcendentes, produzidas por ela não arbitrariamente, mas segundo a sua natureza. Essas ideias são principalmente três: Deus, liberdade e imortalidade. Elas não podem, contudo, ser demonstradas na sua verdade objetiva; só podem ser derivadas subjetivamente da natureza da razão. Os objetos dessas ideias não são perceptíveis e, portanto, não são conhecíveis; chegamos a elas apenas por uma inferência necessária da razão. As três são teoricamente indemonstráveis: não aumentam o nosso conhecimento, apenas o regulam e ordenam, e nos fazem ver e considerar tudo "como se" essas ideias tivessem realidade. Que a tenham, e o que sejam, a razão teórica não nos pode ensinar. Mas a razão não é apenas teórica; é também prática. Isto é: traz em si uma lei moral, um imperativo categórico, e nos põe diante o dever. E exige que cumpramos esse dever incondicionalmente, sem intenção ulterior, unicamente por respeito ao dever como tal. Revela assim que o homem pertence ainda a outra ordem que não a da natureza, a saber, a uma ordem moral do mundo; que tem de aspirar a um bem supremo, que ultrapassa de longe os bens sensíveis da vida e não consiste em outra coisa senão na unidade de virtude e felicidade. Ora, se esse mandamento do dever não é ilusão, mas praticável, e se o bem supremo, a unidade de virtude e felicidade, há de um dia ser alcançado; se, noutras palavras, a ordem moral do mundo em nós e fora de nós há de um dia triunfar sobre a ordem da natureza — então Deus, liberdade e imortalidade têm de existir. São, pois, postulados da razão prática: a sua realidade é exigida pela lei moral, a razão prática tem necessidade da existência deles.

É essa, no essencial, a célebre teoria dos postulados de Kant. Mas ela não está acima de crítica. Em primeiro lugar, não fica claro quem deriva esses postulados da razão prática. Kant parece pensar que a própria razão prática o faz. Mas então há duas razões práticas, uma anterior e outra posterior: uma que apresenta o dever e outra que daí, raciocinando, conclui a existência das ideias; a razão prática torna-se ela mesma novamente teórica. De maior peso é outra objeção: qual o fundamento sobre o qual a razão conclui a existência dessas ideias, qual o motivo premente desses postulados? Se esse fundamento está na razão prática em si mesma, no imperativo categórico, no mandamento do dever como tal, então até o homem mais imoral pode, a partir do fenômeno dessa razão prática, concluir a realidade das três ideias. E às vezes parece ser mesmo isto que Kant quer dizer: repetidamente dá a impressão de que a razão prática em si, sem mais, para poder realizar-se, tem de pôr esses postulados; diz não apenas que todo homem moralmente desenvolvido está autorizado a postular assim, mas que é inevitável para todo ser racional concluir assim, e que as suposições da existência de Deus, da liberdade e da imortalidade são tão necessárias quanto a própria lei moral. Mas, se esse é o sentido de Kant, então não estamos diante de postulados psicologicamente mediados, e sim de postulados objetivamente lógicos; e surge a pergunta: por que um postulado lógico desses não é então conhecimento, elemento da razão teórica? Por que chama Kant a esse conhecimento apenas prático? Há, portanto, mais razão para pensar que o fundamento e o motivo desses postulados não está na razão prática em si, mas na disposição moral, na vontade moral do homem que seriamente, ainda que com fraqueza, procura obedecer ao dever que a razão prática lhe prescreve. Por isso declara ele que a fé moral é um ter-por-verdadeiro sobre fundamentos psicológicos e morais; por isso essa fé moral não diz "é certo", mas "estou moralmente certo"; por isso repousa sobre o pressuposto de disposições morais. E por isso diz também: o homem reto pode dizer "eu quero que haja um Deus, não deixo que me tirem essa fé, o meu interesse moral exige a existência de Deus"; a fé moral não é um mandamento, e uma fé que fosse ordenada seria um absurdo; a consciência do dever é objetiva, e igualmente a possibilidade de agir moralmente e de ser feliz, mas se essa conexão entre virtude e felicidade é estabelecida por um Deus pessoal ou pela coerência da natureza, não o sabemos. O interesse moral dá aqui o fator decisivo; está em nossa escolha, mas a razão prática decide-se pela fé num sábio Criador do mundo. Nota-se de fato em Kant um duplo empenho: manter, de um lado, a racionalidade e, de outro, a liberdade da fé. A fé em Deus, liberdade e imortalidade é objetiva na medida em que é postulada pela razão prática, própria de todos, mas depende também, de novo, da disposição moral de cada homem.

3. O significado de Kant para a teologia consistiu principalmente em ter feito uma separação entre fenômeno e númeno, realidade explicável e realidade vivida, mundo do ser e mundo dos valores, saber e crer, ciência e religião, razão teórica e razão prática. A religião passou a estar ao lado e fora da ciência, e a repousar sobre fundamento próprio, o da natureza moral do homem. Desde logo se notou a influência da filosofia kantiana sobre a teologia: o supranaturalismo argumentou, com base na incognoscibilidade do supra-sensível, a necessidade da revelação; o racionalismo ligou-se à moral racional e à religião moralista de Kant; Schleiermacher adotou a doutrina kantiana da incognoscibilidade do sobrenatural e a separação entre religião e ciência, mas buscou para a religião refúgio seguro no sentimento. Sobretudo, porém, depois que se tornou patente a vaidade da prova histórico-apologética e da especulativa, muitos voltaram a Kant. Entre nós isso se deu já com Hoekstra. Insatisfeito com o intelectualismo e o determinismo de Scholten, buscou ele o fundamento da fé religiosa, com Kant, na razão prática e nos seus postulados. A fé é, segundo Hoekstra, um ato moral da vontade, um postulado do nosso homem espiritual interior diante das experiências da vida; repousa na fé na verdade do nosso próprio ser interior. Só é verdadeira aquela cosmovisão que corresponde ao nosso íntimo, às nossas necessidades morais. Mais tarde Hoekstra precisou melhor o seu pensamento e fundou a fé religiosa não nas nossas necessidades, ideais e aspirações em geral, mas especificamente no senso incondicional de dever. Em conexão com ele, outros fazem a fé religiosa radicar-se na autoconsciência moral. Os modernos éticos foram um passo além: abstendo-se da tentativa de chegar a um sistema filosófico, separaram fé e ciência tão nitidamente quanto possível e limitaram a religião ao domínio do moral. Religião é idealismo moral, dedicação ao ideal moral, fé no poder do bem — poder que, segundo a maioria, ainda tem existência objetiva, mas que, para alguns, não é senão uma concepção do espírito humano. Dualismo semelhante encontra-se também em Doedes, quando separa a fé, que repousa sobre fundamentos, e a ciência, que repousa sobre provas.

4. Na Alemanha o retorno a Kant data dos livros de Liebmann sobre Kant e os epígonos e da História do materialismo, de F. A. Lange. Na teologia o kantismo foi renovado por Ritschl e Lipsius. Os principia da teologia de Ritschl e da sua escola são estes. Antes de tudo, deve fazer-se uma separação entre metafísica e religião: o conceito metafísico do Absoluto nada tem que ver com a ideia religiosa de Deus. Herrmann levou a separação ainda mais longe, distinguindo entre o objeto da metafísica e o da religião, entre a realidade explicável e a realidade vivida, entre o mundo natural e o mundo moral. Em segundo lugar, a teologia não deve tomar o seu ponto de partida antes da fé, numa theologia naturalis, que não existe, mas na fé da congregação: daí deve partir e a partir daí considerar e avaliar tudo. A ortodoxia ainda fazia preceder a fides historica, o assensus, à fides salvifica, isto é, à fiducia; mas isso estaria em conflito com a doutrina original da Reforma em Lutero, Melanchthon e Calvino. Desse modo a fé dependeria sempre de novo de provas externas, consistiria em aceitar algumas verdades e ficaria privada de toda liberdade, independência e certeza. Em terceiro lugar, a teologia de Ritschl procura vincular a fé salvadora à revelação histórica na pessoa de Cristo. A fé é justamente, como fiducia, não aceitação de uma doutrina, mas confiança numa pessoa. Mas então a fé naturalmente não brota do homem por si mesma: pressupõe um objeto e algum conhecimento prévio desse objeto — Herrmann chega a reconhecer que a notitia é uma pré-condição da fé. Sobre que fundamento está firme, porém, esse objeto, essa revelação histórica em Cristo? De onde vem a certeza da sua realidade? A resposta que os ritschlianos dão a essa importante pergunta é muito diversa. O próprio Ritschl na verdade não dá resposta alguma: remete o homem individual à congregação, que tem a experiência do perdão dos pecados e da filiação divina, mas não diz o que há de constranger o indivíduo a unir-se a essa congregação; apenas funda a existência de Deus e a razoabilidade da cosmovisão cristã na autoavaliação do espírito. Os seus seguidores, porém, seguem em geral outros caminhos e fazem a verdade da revelação em Cristo repousar sobre a experiência interior: a contemplação de Cristo atinge-nos pela sua grandeza moral; ele causa profunda impressão no ânimo desprevenido, humilha, mas também eleva à confiança de que Deus é nosso Pai. Herrmann combate com todas as forças que provas históricas nos possam convencer da verdade da pessoa de Cristo, e deixa a crítica histórica inteiramente livre, nada lhe subtraindo; mas diz, não obstante, que o Christus extra nos é o fundamento da sua fé, fala de um fato indubitável, acha que os traços fundamentais da imagem de Jesus não permitem dúvida sobre a realidade histórica de Jesus, e reconhece essa verdade objetiva não com base em provas, mas porque sentiu e viveu sobre si o poder da vida de Jesus, porque a vida de Jesus tem o poder de testemunhar-se à nossa consciência como fato real. E só é conteúdo de fé aquilo que tem o poder de testemunhar-se à consciência como fato real. Uma análise mais profunda da verdade e da certeza da fé não nos é dada na escola de Ritschl: a impressão que a pessoa de Cristo causa em nós, o poder que do evangelho procede em nosso ânimo, a experiência moral da humilhação e da alegria, a concordância da ideia do reino de Deus com as nossas necessidades e exigências — eis o que parece garantir a verdade da revelação na pessoa e na vida de Cristo. Finalmente, o conteúdo da fé é na teologia de Ritschl reduzido a um mínimo. Todos os conhecimentos de ordem religiosa, dizia Ritschl, são juízos de valor diretos. Também a filosofia avalia; mas ali os juízos de valor são incidentais e acompanhantes. Na religião são independentes: repousam no prazer ou desprazer do homem, no seu bem ou mal-estar, referem-se à sua relação com o mundo e são independentes da ciência. Se, portanto, a ciência se ativer ao seu próprio terreno e não tentar erguer uma cosmovisão, nenhum conflito é possível. Herrmann foi ainda mais longe e chegou a dizer que a realidade da fé é, para a ciência, uma imaginação. Mas, ainda assim, Ritschl e Herrmann mantiveram firme a revelação histórica de Deus em Cristo como fundamento e fonte da fé religiosa, e nessa medida fizeram a religião consistir não só em juízos de valor, mas também em juízos de ser. Era também demasiado claro que o conhecer religioso implica tanto quanto o conhecer científico a convicção da realidade do seu objeto. Juízos de valor dependem de juízos de ser, ou não são senão imaginação. Kaftan reconhece por isso que os juízos de valor pressupõem verdade objetiva, ainda que em sentido gnosiológico faça esta depender daqueles. E Häring diz, sim, que fundamentos práticos e morais nos movem à fé, mas acrescenta que a fé cristã não traz em si mesma a garantia da verdade daquilo em que se crê — pois desejar não é prova do cumprimento do desejo — e que encontra essa garantia no fato histórico da revelação de Deus em Cristo. Daí que outros observem que, ainda que muito na Escritura sucumba à crítica, resta em pé o bastante: a aparição inteira de Cristo não pode, apesar de tudo, ser não histórica. A fé é independente do nascimento sobrenatural de Cristo, da ressurreição, dos milagres. Só se a investigação histórico-crítica quisesse tirar-nos que Cristo é o nosso Senhor, então a fé cristã se oporia a isso.

5. Em última análise o mesmo ponto de vista é adotado por R. A. Lipsius. Também ele limita a ciência ao domínio da experiência interior e exterior. Mas reconhece ainda, à diferença de Ritschl e Herrmann, algum direito à metafísica. A nossa razão sente necessidade e impulso de ascender do mundo da experiência a um fundamento incondicionado, e forma assim os conceitos do Absoluto, da alma, etc.; o nosso espírito aspira à unidade. Mas esse pensar metafísico ou filosófico já não é ciência propriamente dita: não produz conteúdo positivo, não aumenta a nossa posse da verdade, dá apenas determinações de forma, conceitos fundamentais, princípios regulativos. Quando, apesar disso, queremos pôr nele algum conteúdo e obter por ele conhecimento transcendente, transferimos para ele formas sensíveis e enredamo-nos numa antinomia: a concepção lógica e a simbólica do metafísico lutam uma com a outra. Por esse caminho, portanto, nenhum conhecimento do supra-sensível se pode obter. Mas há ainda outro caminho, o das necessidades práticas e morais. O homem é um ser pensante, mas também volitivo e agente, e sente-se compelido, como tal, a afirmar-se diante do mundo. Da contradição entre o espírito do homem e a natureza nasce nele a religião. Esta é assunto prático do espírito, e nasce não em primeiro lugar de necessidades teóricas, mas práticas. O impulso prático e ético de manter-se na sua existência leva o homem à fé em Deus, a postular um mundo supra-sensível. A fé começa, pois, onde a ciência cessa. Essa fé traz consigo uma certeza própria, não científica mas moral, uma certeza de experiência, que repousa na certeza vivida da minha própria pessoa. Para outro essa certeza talvez não seja senão imaginação; mas para o sujeito mesmo é certa. Tal experiência é também o único critério da verdade da religião cristã, da revelação em Cristo. A apropriação da revelação histórica como posse pessoal é a única prova direta da verdade da religião cristã: a experiência pessoal dos crentes confirma a revelação histórica, assim como esta desperta e fortalece aquela. E o cristão, crendo assim, faz então confissão de realidades supra-sensíveis: nos dogmas ele dá não uma descrição de estados de ânimo e juízos de valor, mas juízos de ser acerca da relação do homem com Deus e de Deus com o homem e o mundo. Essas afirmações religiosas são objetivamente verdadeiras se estão em conexão indissolúvel e logicamente necessária com a realização da nossa destinação suprema de vida: não juízos de valor acidentais, mas necessários, provam a verdade objetiva das declarações religiosas. Para o próprio crente essas provas bastam; e diante dos não crentes ele tem ainda uma prova apologética indireta no fato de que necessidades práticas compelem o homem à religião: a religião não é coação nem poder natural, mas é prática e psiquicamente necessária, e nessa medida está fundada no ser do homem. Dogmaticamente cabe ainda ao crente a tarefa de combinar o conteúdo da fé com todo o seu conhecimento do mundo num só todo. Herrmann manteve crer e saber tão estritamente separados quanto possível, até o fim; Lipsius faz o conteúdo de ambos brotar de fonte própria, mas quer afinal combiná-lo numa cosmovisão unitária. A dogmática não pode, é certo, provar o conteúdo da fé nem elevar o crer a saber; mas pode e deve pôr a cosmovisão cristã, teleológica, em conexão com a cosmovisão causal, com o conhecimento do mundo obtido alhures, e mostrar então que não há conflito, que o conflito é apenas aparente, que há de fato unidade. Ainda que os dogmas não contenham verdade científica, nenhum conhecimento teórico, ainda que sejam todos figurados e antropomórficos, não podem, contudo, estar em conflito com os resultados firmes da ciência. A unidade do nosso espírito proíbe a aceitação de uma dupla verdade: a ideia religiosa de Deus e o conceito do Absoluto, liberdade e necessidade, cosmovisão teleológica e causal têm de ser compatíveis entre si.

6. Esse método ético e prático de justificar a religião e o cristianismo merece certamente muita preferência sobre a argumentação histórica e a especulativa. Não concebe a religião meramente como doutrina, que deva ser justificada perante o entendimento, nem como um estado do sujeito, que o pensamento deva dissecar analiticamente; mas vê na religião um poder histórico e objetivo, que corresponde à constituição moral do homem e nela encontra a sua prova e a sua justificação. Ainda assim, também esse método está sujeito a graves objeções.

Em primeiro lugar, a concordância de uma religião com as necessidades morais do homem é sem dúvida de grande significado. A satisfação do coração e da consciência é o selo e a coroa da religião. Uma religião que não pode consolar no luto e na dor, na vida e no morrer, não pode ser a religião verdadeira. Das outras ciências — lógica, matemática, física — não esperamos que ofereçam consolo à consciência culpada e ao ânimo entristecido; mas uma religião que fica desamparada junto ao leito do enfermo e do moribundo, que não pode confirmar o que duvida nem levantar o abatido, não é digna desse nome. A antítese tantas vezes feita entre verdade e consolo não pertence à religião: uma verdade que não contém consolo, que não está ligada à vida religioso-ética do homem, deixa por isso mesmo de ser uma verdade religiosa. Assim como a medicina em todas as suas partes é governada pela cura do enfermo, assim na religião o que está em jogo para o homem é a paz e a bem-aventurança.

Mas, por mais alto que se estime esse consolo na religião, e por mais que ele deva, junto com outras provas, ser levado em conta como poderoso motivum credibilitatis, sozinho e posto por si é insuficiente como prova. Pois algum consolo e alguma satisfação se encontram em todas as religiões: as experiências da miséria e da culpa, da dúvida e da confiança, da paciência e da esperança acham-se não só entre os cristãos, mas também, em maior ou menor grau, entre maometanos, budistas e outros. Uma religião que não oferece consolo e não dá satisfação às necessidades morais do homem é certamente falsa; mas, inversamente, nem toda religião em que o homem busca o seu consolo e a sua satisfação é por isso a verdadeira. Além disso, as necessidades do coração e da consciência às quais esta ou aquela religião corresponde ou foram elas mesmas despertadas sob a influência dessa religião — e então a sua satisfação é bastante natural e prova de pouca força —, ou surgiram fora dela, sob outras influências e sob a operação de outra religião — e então justamente aquela necessidade peculiar que esta religião pressupõe não está presente, e a satisfação falta por inteiro. De uma aspiração inconsciente da alma ao cristianismo quase nada se encontra na realidade. De uma maturidade dos povos para o evangelho a história das missões ensina amargamente pouco. O evangelho não é segundo o homem, não é segundo as necessidades tais como o homem mesmo as imagina. Fora da revelação o homem tampouco se conhece a si mesmo. A afirmação tantas vezes repetida de que o cristianismo corresponde às necessidades do homem traz consigo o sério perigo de que a verdade seja feita sob medida para a natureza humana. A proposição de que a verdade é genuinamente humana porque é divina converte-se com facilidade na oposta: que ela só é divina porque é humana. Pregar para agradar, em vez de pregar ao coração de Jerusalém, não é raro nem mesmo em púlpitos cristãos.

Em seguida, a experiência em que se busca a prova da verdade da religião é um conceito muito flutuante. Que há, afinal, numa religião histórica que possa realmente ser conteúdo de experiência? Experimentadas são algumas emoções religioso-éticas de culpa, remorso, perdão, gratidão, alegria; mas todo o resto que ocorre numa religião histórica cai fora da experiência. Em nenhum dos doze artigos de fé pode o "creio" ser substituído pelo "experimento". Que Deus é Criador do céu e da terra, que Cristo é o Filho unigênito de Deus, concebido pelo Espírito Santo, nascido de Maria, não é evidentemente suscetível de experiência alguma. Sobre o fundamento da experiência religioso-ética a verdade do cristianismo histórico nunca poderá ser edificada. A consequência dessa elevação da experiência a principium cognoscendi é apenas que o conteúdo da fé e da dogmática se desprende cada vez mais de tudo o que é histórico e se restringe ao chamado religioso-ético. Isso, porém, não é senão nova forma da separação, já tantas vezes tentada em vão, entre ideia e fato no cristianismo. Mas o fruto já não se pode colher quando a árvore foi cortada, e a água fresca e clara já não corre quando a fonte foi estancada.

7. Em vez de na satisfação do coração e da consciência, outros buscaram o conteúdo e a prova da religião cristã nos chamados juízos de valor. Mas isso é apenas outro nome para a mesma coisa. Se com isso nada mais se quisesse dizer senão que um dogma sempre há de conter um valor religioso-ético, ninguém poderia levantar objeção alguma: em todo dogma se deve, como já foi dito antes, ouvir bater o coração da religião. Mas na teologia de Ritschl esses juízos de valor adquiriram sentido inteiramente diverso: desligados de tudo o que é metafísico, tornaram-se o fundamento e o conteúdo da dogmática. E isso é impossível. A religião inclui a convicção da realidade do seu objeto. A valoração religiosa e ética pressupõe a verdade da pessoa ou da coisa a que se refere. Juízos de valor dependem, portanto, de juízos de ser; ficam ou caem com eles. Se a valoração de um objeto não está fundada na sua realidade, torna-se nada mais que imaginação, criação da fantasia ou formação de um ideal. Não é, pois, admissível dizer: sejam os fatos assim ou de outro modo, a valoração decide; pois com os fatos também ela muda. Se o povo e a religião de Israel se desenvolveram como a crítica mais recente os representa, a valoração do Antigo Testamento tem de ser em princípio alterada. Uma visão moderna da história e uma valoração ortodoxa combinam mal. Se Cristo não é verdadeiramente Deus, então tampouco pode ter para o cristão o valor de Deus. E assim é com todos os dogmas: a valoração religiosa está na mais estreita conexão com a verdade objetiva. Muita névoa desapareceria se, conforme o desejo de Biedermann, a palavra da moda — Werthurtheile — fosse banida.

Aos poucos ganha terreno a convicção de que a experiência e a valoração religioso-éticas, por maior que seja o seu peso, não podem garantir a verdade do seu objeto nem ser a medida do conteúdo da dogmática. Psicologicamente essa concepção também não se justifica. Pois a decisão sobre a realidade das coisas não cabe à vontade nem ao sentimento, ao coração nem à consciência, mas ao consciente. Só quando a realidade de uma coisa está estabelecida para o consciente é que as demais faculdades da alma podem tornar-se ativas a seu respeito. Querer, sentir, experimentar, imaginar não implicam de modo algum a realidade dos seus objetos. O caminho para o coração é pavimentado pela cabeça.

Muitos, contudo, embora vendo a fraqueza da prova pela experiência e pela valoração, tentaram ainda salvar algo dela por meio da teoria kantiana dos postulados. Concede-se então que a natureza moral do homem não permite concluir a realidade de toda sorte de representações religiosas nem a verdade da religião cristã; mas dela se deriva, não obstante, o direito de postular a existência efetiva de tudo aquilo que está necessariamente ligado a essa natureza moral e sem o qual ela é minada e destruída. Mas em que consiste isso, ninguém sabe indicar; os pareceres divergem largamente. Quem pode, em abstrato, determinar o que é imediata e diretamente dado com a natureza moral do homem? Em cada um essa natureza moral é diferente, conforme o ambiente em que se formou. Cada qual postula exatamente tanto quanto lhe basta para a sua religião. Kant derivou da razão prática aquilo que constituía o conteúdo da sua religião racional moral: a existência de Deus, a liberdade e a imortalidade. A Fichte bastou a ordem moral do mundo. E Rauwenhoff afirma que a fé em nós mesmos postula necessariamente a fé numa tal constituição do mundo que nela possa reinar a lei do senso de dever. Em que consista essa constituição, não nos é dito; a ordem moral do mundo por ele postulada não é outra coisa senão o bem em nós. Mas com isso não avançamos um passo: pois esse poder do bem já está presente no homem agora e coincide inteiramente com aquela natureza moral sobre a qual justamente o postulado foi construído. Se o postulado inclui algo mais — por exemplo, que o bem há de triunfar, que um dia todos os homens poderão e quererão realizá-lo —, sobre isso guarda-se silêncio. Rauwenhoff espera esse triunfo do bem, mas sobre que fundamento, não o diz. Se, porém, a constituição atual do mundo é compatível com o domínio da lei moral em nós, por que não poderia sê-lo também no futuro? Que direito dá a natureza moral do homem para exigir ao fim a vitória completa do bem, a harmonia de virtude e felicidade, a concordância da ordem natural e da ordem moral do mundo? Com Rauwenhoff a teoria dos postulados terminou por voltar ao ponto de partida: no fim não deu mais do que já continha no começo.

Mas, à parte os seus escassos resultados, cabe perguntar se é confiável o fundamento sobre o qual o postulado é construído. Para o filósofo moderno da religião isso não está acima de toda dúvida. Na religião ele não quer saber de nenhuma natureza religiosa original do homem — isso estaria em conflito com uma explicação científica; a religião tem de ser derivada de fatores que, cada um em si, ainda não são religiosos. Mas, chegado à natureza moral do homem, parece esquecer inteiramente a exigência da sua explicação científica: sem preocupar-se com as objeções vindas do lado da ciência materialista, parte da natureza moral do homem como de uma propriedade fixa, imutável e original, e sobre ela edifica a realidade de uma ordem moral do mundo, ou até de um mundo metafísico inteiro. O direito a isso deveria ao menos ter sido demonstrado. Se essa investigação tivesse sido instituída de antemão, talvez tivesse aparecido que a própria natureza moral do homem já pressupõe a religião. Em sentido gnosiológico pode-se, tal como na prova moral da existência de Deus, ascender do moral ao religioso; lógica e realmente, porém, a religião precede o ético. Não há moralidade sem metafísica. A ideia do dever envolve a de um poder absoluto que obriga na consciência.

8. Uma última objeção contra a direção acima descrita consiste em que ela tem sempre de chegar a certo dualismo entre crer e saber. Alguns o exprimiram muito cruamente. A escolástica terminou, na Idade Média, com alguns teólogos, na proposição de que algo podia ser verdadeiro na teologia e falso na filosofia. Jacobi professava ser pagão com o intelecto e cristão com o coração. Herrmann chamou de ilusão a realidade da fé para a ciência. Os modernos éticos exigiram completa separação entre a filosofia e a vida religiosa. A maioria, porém, não ousa ir tão longe e vê a impossibilidade de dizer não como filósofo e sim como homem religioso. Reconhecem que no fim há de haver, contudo, concordância entre as afirmações da fé e os resultados da ciência: a filosofia pode não ser capaz de justificar as representações religiosas, mas também não pode ser capaz de demonstrar a sua falsidade; ambos, os resultados da investigação científica e as afirmações da fé religiosa, têm de poder ligar-se num só todo, ou ao menos poder existir lado a lado sem conflito e sem inimizade. Essa concordância no fim, nos resultados, procura-se então obter tornando a ciência, de um lado, agnóstica quanto ao supra-sensível e ao sobrenatural, e limitando estritamente, de outro, as afirmações da fé religiosa ao religioso-ético.

Mas ainda que assim se tente evitar o dualismo no resultado, de fato continua-se a aderir a ele no órgão pelo qual e no caminho ou método pelo qual se chega ao conhecimento da verdade. O coração é, no seu terreno, tanto um órgão para a verdade quanto a cabeça. A experiência religioso-moral garante a realidade das coisas invisíveis tão fortemente quanto a percepção sensível a do mundo visível. A fé, com os seus fundamentos, tem tanto direito quanto a ciência com as suas provas. Mas é difícil ver como se possa escapar, no fim, no resultado, do dualismo que se aceita no começo, no princípio. Se cabeça e coração têm vida própria, no sentido de que cada um forma um órgão independente para o conhecimento da verdade, então a unidade da verdade, do mundo, e do próprio Deus já não se pode manter. Assim como subjetivamente o homem se parte em dois — de um lado um ser sem religião, encerrado no nexo da natureza, e de outro um ser religioso-ético, cidadão de uma ordem moral do mundo —, assim objetivamente a ciência e a religião, a realidade explicável e a realidade vivida, o mundo do ser e o mundo da valoração, as coisas visíveis e as invisíveis, o poder absoluto da natureza e a ideia religiosa de Deus ficam separados lado a lado e logo hostis um diante do outro.

Há sem dúvida, nesse dualismo, certa verdade que não se deve desconhecer: pois há, ao lado de uma certeza lógica, também uma certeza de fé. Mas essa distinção é, como se verá adiante, inteiramente outra que a separação representada pelo dualismo acima descrito. Pois essa dupla certeza não divide em duas metades nem o homem nem o mundo, mas dentro da própria esfera da ciência faz distinção entre aquilo que chega ao nosso conhecimento imediatamente e aquilo que chega por meio de provas. Já o dualismo que veio a dominar na filosofia moderna faz todo o criado desagregar-se em dois círculos inteiramente separados, e está com isso em conflito com a unidade do espírito do homem, com a unidade da ciência e da verdade, com a unidade do mundo, com a unidade do próprio Ser divino. Por isso tampouco está em condições de reconciliar o crer e o saber; antes, aumenta ainda o conflito entre ambos. Pois a fé não pode contentar-se com essa separação, porque vê tirar-se dela todo o histórico e o metafísico, a que sempre está em maior ou menor grau ligada, e por isso ou se torna inteiramente dependente da ciência, ou tem de recolher-se a um sentimento vago e misterioso. E a ciência não pode ter paz com ela, porque a decisão sobre a realidade das coisas é confiada a uma faculdade que para isso carece inteiramente de direito e de competência. Ambas, fé e ciência, não se deixam limitar dessa maneira: a cada momento invadem uma o campo da outra. Nem pode ser boa exigência que o homem religioso deixe de servir a Deus quando se dedica à ciência, ou que o homem de ciência imponha silêncio ao seu pensar quando entra no domínio da religião.

§ 17. A fé

1. Da investigação precedente ficou claro que o principium internum da religião cristã e da teologia não pode ser situado no intelecto, na razão ou no coração do homem psíquico. Nem provas, nem raciocínios, nem sequer a concordância com as necessidades do homem são capazes de nos convencer da divindade da verdade religiosa. Em todo domínio, e portanto também na religião, o principium internum deve corresponder ao principium externum, ser da mesma natureza que ele: assim como a luz só pode ser percebida pelo olho, a verdade divina só pode ser reconhecida por aquele que é aparentado a Deus e é sua imagem. Todas as direções examinadas acima perceberam isso em maior ou menor grau; mesmo os que queriam provar intelectualmente a verdade da religião cristã julgavam necessária, do lado do homem, certa disposição moral para que a força dessas provas fosse sentida. Desde Schleiermacher, a maioria dos teólogos chegou à compreensão de que a religião é de natureza própria e por isso deve também ser conhecida por um órgão próprio no homem. Procurar esse órgão na razão, na consciência moral, no coração, no sentimento já era um passo no caminho certo, e merecia larga preferência sobre o empenho racionalista de demonstrar a verdade religiosa ao intelecto sóbrio. Mas com isso ainda não se tinha feito o bastante. Se não houvesse pecado, o homem possuiria em si a capacidade de distinguir a verdade da falsidade tão claramente quanto o olho distingue a luz das trevas. Ninguém, porém, pode afirmar que seja assim: o pecado obscureceu o homem no intelecto e o corrompeu na vontade. É necessário, portanto, que objetivamente a verdade nos venha ao encontro em pureza e que subjetivamente o nosso olho para essa verdade seja aberto.

A Escritura parte disso. Ela não se submete ao juízo do homem natural, pois só o homem espiritual, o que nasceu de novo, pode discernir as coisas do Espírito de Deus e do reino dos céus. Por isso a Escritura reserva para si o direito e o poder de levar o homem ao reconhecimento de sua verdade, e o faz de modo espiritual — não por provas e raciocínios, mas pelo caminho de uma experiência espiritual, pela instrução do Espírito Santo. Há, portanto, não apenas uma revelação de Deus em Cristo fora de nós, mas também uma iluminação do Espírito Santo em nós; depois que Deus nos falou pelo Filho, veio o Espírito Santo para nos guiar à verdade. Deus não deu somente uma Escritura, que contém completa a revelação objetiva, mas fundou também uma igreja, que entende a palavra de Deus e a confessa como verdade.

Está por isso em conflito com a essência da religião cristã fazer que a sua verdade dependa da investigação e da sentença do homem pecador. O dogmático tem de tomar posição não antes nem fora, mas no meio da fé. A dúvida metódica de Bacon e de Descartes não está em seu lugar nem na filosofia nem na teologia. A dúvida pode ser, quando muito, ocasião de sair em busca da verdade; só a fé a faz encontrar; a fé é sempre o fundamento mais profundo do trabalho da ciência, e Voetius com razão combateu a theologia dubitans de Descartes. É método errado o filósofo despojar-se de sua certeza natural e o dogmático de sua fé antes de dar início ao trabalho científico. Tal método não é apenas impraticável: carrega sobre o homem de ciência a aparência de que sua convicção e sua fé repousam realmente sobre aqueles fundamentos que o seu pensar lhe faz achar depois. Descartes encontrou um ponto de partida firme no cogito ergo sum; mas ninguém pensará que com isso ele nomeou o último e mais profundo fundamento da fé na própria existência — ainda que lhe demonstrassem a incorreção dessa tese, ele continuaria a crer em sua própria existência tão firmemente como antes. Tão pouco quanto a filosofia pode pôr de lado a certeza natural, pode o dogmático colocar-se fora da fé em que muitas vezes já foi criado desde a mocidade. A ciência não tem de criar o seu objeto, mas de explicá-lo.

A teologia cristã tem, portanto, um ponto de partida subjetivo. Ela toma posição na congregação, que crê e confessa a verdade de Deus. Outro ponto de partida não existe. Roma o procura, mas não o encontra. A Reforma abandonou essa busca e partiu do sujeito crente. E quando a teologia do racionalismo e do supranaturalismo entregou esse ponto de vista, a teologia mais recente, desde Schleiermacher, voltou em quase todas as suas direções a esse princípio da Reforma. A teologia inteira tornou-se ética, no sentido de que levou a sério a proposição de que só quem nasceu de novo vê o reino de Deus e só quem quer fazer a vontade de Deus pode reconhecer se a doutrina de Jesus é de Deus. Quase todos os teólogos tomam hoje posição na consciência crente, na regeneração, na experiência religiosa; há nisso uma concordância notável.

A acusação de subjetivismo contra esse ponto de vista é inteiramente descabida. Em parte alguma, em ciência nenhuma, há outro ponto de partida. A luz pressupõe o olho; o som só é perceptível para o ouvido. Todo o objetivo existe para nós apenas por mediação da consciência subjetiva; sem consciência, o mundo inteiro está morto para mim. Desejar uma objetividade que não fosse subjetivamente mediada é exigência impossível: entre o ser das coisas e o nosso próprio ser fica sempre de permeio a percepção. O subjetivismo só nasce de fato quando o órgão subjetivo, indispensável à percepção do que existe objetivamente, é elevado a principium do conhecimento. O olho pode ser órgão indispensável para a percepção da luz, mas nem por isso é a sua fonte. É precisamente este o erro do racionalismo idealista: identificar o órgão com a fonte do conhecimento. O pensar não é a fonte do pensamento, a representação não é a causa da coisa, o eu não é o criador do não-eu; e assim também a fé, a regeneração, a experiência não podem ser a fonte do nosso conhecimento religioso nem o princípio da nossa teologia. Por mais que a teologia mais recente tome com razão o seu ponto de partida no sujeito, ela erra quando, sob influência da filosofia idealista, converte a teologia em antropologia, eclesiologia, ciência da religião. Nessa medida, Ritschl chamou com razão a teologia da consciência de volta à revelação objetiva e histórica em Cristo.

2. Na Escritura, ao menos no Novo Testamento, esse principium internum é designado na maior parte das vezes pelo nome de fé. Também a regeneração, a pureza de coração, o amor à vontade de Deus, o Espírito de Deus são apresentados como principium internum; mas o nome de fé merece preferência. Não só porque na Escritura a fé é o que mais aparece como tal, mas sobretudo porque o conceito de fé nos coloca no terreno da consciência e assim preserva a conexão com o modo pelo qual chegamos ao conhecimento em outro domínio. Vimos antes que a razão humana nunca e em lugar nenhum é fonte de conhecimento; não há conceitos inatos; o homem é física e igualmente intelectualmente dependente por inteiro do mundo fora dele. Todo conhecimento vem de fora — mas todo esse conhecimento é, do lado do homem, mediado pela consciência. Não o sentimento nem o coração, mas a cabeça, a consciência em toda a sua extensão (sensação, apercepção, percepção, entendimento, razão, consciência moral), é o órgão subjetivo da verdade. Se a Escritura chama a fé de principium internum, sustenta com isso a mesma visão e reconhece que também a revelação de Deus só pode chegar ao nosso conhecimento através da consciência. Não como se a regeneração, o amor, a pureza de coração não tivessem, a esse respeito, a maior importância — o contrário aparecerá depois; mas o órgão próprio pelo qual a revelação de Deus é conhecida é um ato da consciência, a saber, a fé. A revelação de Deus é um sistema de palavras e obras de Deus, que existem fora de nós e independentemente de nós: como poderiam elas chegar ao nosso conhecimento senão pela consciência? A revelação de Deus é evangelho, é promessa, promessa de perdão e de salvação; e a uma promessa nada pode corresponder de nossa parte senão a fé. Só pela fé uma promessa se torna nossa posse. A fé é, portanto, o principium internum cognoscendi da revelação, e assim também da religião e da teologia.

Mas ainda por outra razão convém designar o principium internum pelo nome de fé: com isso se preserva a coerência do conhecer religioso com todo o restante conhecer do homem. Distinção há, certamente, mas antes de tudo é preciso atentar para a concordância. Não chegamos ao conhecimento na religião e na teologia de outro modo que nas demais ciências. A fé não é um órgão novo implantado no homem, não é um sexto sentido, não é um donum superadditum. Por mais que entre em conflito com o homem "natural", ela é inteiramente natural, normal, humana. A revelação liga-se, objetiva e subjetivamente, à natureza; a re-criação liga-se à criação. Crer é, em geral, um modo comuníssimo de chegar ao conhecimento e à certeza. Começamos crendo em todo domínio; nossa inclinação natural é crer, e só o conhecimento adquirido e a experiência nos ensinam a descrença. A fé é o fundamento da sociedade e o fundamento da ciência; toda certeza repousa, no fim, na fé.

É verdade que a palavra "crer" também se usa em sentido mais fraco, quando não sabemos algo com certeza mas o temos por provável por razões que nos bastam; crer forma então oposição a saber e é aparentado a supor, como na expressão: não o sei, mas creio. Nesse sentido, porém, o uso da palavra não se aplica de modo algum aqui. Já a etimologia indica que na fé se esconde um sentido mais profundo. O holandês geloof deriva do mesmo radical que loven, beloven, gelofte — louvar, prometer, voto — e aparenta-se a lieven, amar: exprime um confiar-se a alguém com a pessoa inteira, uma entrega e devoção amorosas. Também em outras línguas a palavra "fé" tem esse sentido original de devoção, confiança, certeza, tanto no hebraico quanto no grego pistis e no latim fides. Por isso "crer" é também frequentemente empregado para todo aquele conhecimento certo que não repousa sobre provas, mas sobre uma intuição imediata e direta. Platão distinguia quatro graus e entendia por pistis a certeza acerca do mundo sensível com base na observação. Quando depois, no cristianismo, a palavra fé recebeu tão profundo sentido religioso, muitos pais da igreja apontaram de preferência para o lugar importante que o crer ocupa na vida e na ciência. Sobretudo Agostinho pôs em luz esse significado da fé para a sociedade e para a ciência: quem não crê nunca chega a conhecer — nisi credideritis, non intelligetis. A fé é fundamento e vínculo de toda a sociedade humana; se valesse a proposição de que não devo crer no que não vejo, romper-se-iam todos os laços de sangue, de amizade e de amor; e se sem crer no que não podemos ver a própria sociedade humana não subsiste, quanto mais se há de aplicar a fé às coisas divinas. Desde então esses mesmos pensamentos retornam sempre entre os teólogos cristãos. O nome de fé foi dado ao conhecimento imediato dos principia; à confiança em nós mesmos, em nossa observação e em nosso pensar; ao reconhecimento da existência objetiva do mundo exterior; à confiança mútua sobre a qual toda a sociedade humana está construída; a tudo o que é conhecido e feito por intuição.

Ninguém que pense as coisas até o fim negará essa profunda significação da fé para a vida, a arte e a ciência. Contra os que julgam que nada se pode ter por verdadeiro senão o que é sensivelmente percebido ou matematicamente provado, está acima de toda dúvida firmemente estabelecido que de longe a maior parte, e a mais importante, do que sabemos não repousa sobre provas, mas sobre certeza imediata. O domínio desta é muito maior que o da certeza demonstrativa; e esta última está sempre de novo construída sobre a primeira, e com ela está e cai. O caminho de chegar ao conhecimento e à certeza de outra maneira que por provas matemáticas e lógicas nada tem, pois, de estranho à natureza humana. A fé em sentido geral e amplo é elemento indispensável na sociedade e caminho normal para a ciência. Ela não se tornou necessária pelo pecado: fora do pecado, o conhecimento intuitivo e a certeza imediata teriam ocupado lugar ainda mais amplo na vida humana; e ainda hoje a originalidade de um homem é tanto maior quanto mais ele vive não da reflexão, mas da intuição. Como analogias da fé religiosa, portanto, todos os exemplos mencionados podem prestar excelente serviço. Têm em comum com a fé religiosa que o conhecimento é obtido imediatamente, não por reflexão, e que em certeza não fica em nada aquém do que repousa sobre provas. Além disso, mantêm a conexão entre o modo ordinário pelo qual nós, homens, chegamos ao conhecimento, e o caminho da fé, que no terreno religioso conduz à certeza; e mostram que crer está tão pouco em conflito com a natureza humana e com a exigência da ciência, que sem isso não pode haver homem normal nem ciência normal.

3. Mas por causa dessa concordância não se deve deixar de ver a diferença que existe entre a fé como certeza imediata e a fé em sentido religioso. Na religião, e especialmente na cristã, a pistis adquire um valor próprio. Também os gregos usaram a palavra em sentido religioso, da fé nos deuses; mas ainda então ela não tem em si mesma significado religioso, tampouco quando falamos de fé em Deus, na alma e sua imortalidade: crer é aí ainda a fé ordinária, que exercemos diariamente, apenas aplicada a representações religiosas. No Novo Testamento, porém, a pistis é inteiramente determinada em sentido religioso — em objeto, fundamento e origem; ela mesma designa uma relação religiosa do homem com Deus.

Em Hebreus 11:1, as coisas que se esperam e as coisas que não se veem são chamadas o objeto geral da fé cristã. Já por aí a fé em sentido religioso se distingue do conhecimento que possuímos por certeza imediata. A fé no mundo exterior, nos sentidos, nas leis do pensamento repousa sobre a própria observação interior; de todas essas coisas temos consciência imediata. Mas o objeto da fé cristã é invisível e não suscetível de observação alguma. Se algo é imediatamente observado por nós, a fé é supérflua; a fé opõe-se ao ver. Com isso não conflita que a revelação tenha ocorrido no espaço e no tempo, que a pessoa de Cristo pudesse ser vista e tocada; pois como objeto de fé essa revelação inteira não é, ainda assim, observável. Muitos viram Jesus e nem por isso creram nele; só os seus discípulos contemplaram nele a glória como do Unigênito do Pai. Objeto de fé são palavras e obras apenas sub ratione Dei. Mas na Escritura a pistis, como fides salvifica, recebe um sentido ainda mais pregnante: não tem por objeto quaisquer palavras e obras de Deus em si mesmas, mas a graça de Deus em Cristo, as promessas do evangelho. Esse objeto especial entra em consideração para a fé sob outra categoria que a do verdadeiro contra o falso. E a natureza geral da fé fica com isso de tal modo modificada que ela não passa a ser um saber firme e certo, um ter-por-verdadeiro objetivo, mas inclui também uma confiança cordial, uma entrega inteira, uma apropriação pessoal das promessas de Deus concedidas no evangelho.

Em seguida, a fé em sentido religioso distingue-se da certeza imediata em que esta repousa sobre a própria intelecção, e aquela sobre a intelecção de outro. Já é digno de nota que a palavra fé não seja de uso geral para todos aqueles casos em que o conhecimento repousa sobre percepção imediata: a fé no mundo exterior, nos sentidos, nas leis do pensamento, nos prima principia costuma ser designada como saber imediato — e de fato esse conhecimento imediato, como o demonstrativo, repousa sobre a percepção e a intelecção próprias; nessa medida pode ser chamado um saber, em distinção do crer. Mas com a fides salvifica o caso é outro. Ela tem certíssimamente a graça de Deus em Cristo por objeto; mas dessa graça não teríamos o mínimo conhecimento se ela não nos tivesse chegado pelo testemunho de outros, se não nos estivesse assegurada na Sagrada Escritura. Entre a pessoa de Cristo e a nossa fé interpõe-se, portanto, o testemunho dos apóstolos. A palavra de Deus é medium gratiae. Ora, essa Escritura entra em consideração para a fé somente como palavra de Deus, pois a fé religiosa não pode repousar senão num testemunho de Deus. Mas nem por isso a fé deixa de estar ligada a essa Escritura: tem por objeto a graça de Deus, mas tal como é testemunhada na Sagrada Escritura — ou, como o exprime Calvino, tem por objeto Christum evangelio suo vestitum, Cristo revestido do seu evangelho. Por isso a fé, num só ato, estende-se tanto para a pessoa de Cristo quanto para a Escritura: abraça Cristo como Salvador e a Escritura como palavra de Deus. E por isso ambas as coisas são verdadeiras: por Cristo à Escritura e pela Escritura a Cristo. A Escritura conduz a Cristo e dirige os pensamentos e afetos do homem para aquele que agora vive no céu. Mesmo os que removem toda notitia e todo assensus da fides salvifica e a querem fazer passar por inteiro em fiducia não podem deixar de fazer essa fiducia nascer de uma impressão feita na alma pela imagem de Cristo. Também o pietismo está ligado a meios externos: pode limitá-los e não querer saber de catecismo nem de dogmática, mas ainda assim tenta levar as crianças à conversão falando-lhes do querido Jesus. Não há outro caminho para o coração do homem senão pela sua cabeça e pela sua consciência. Só o Espírito de Deus pode operar imediatamente no coração; nós estamos ligados aos meios. A Escritura é e permanece medium gratiae. Mas inversamente a fé em Cristo também atua de volta sobre a fé na Escritura: liga-nos e prende-nos a ela e nos faz confiar nela na necessidade e na morte. Nossa alma pode estar indissoluvelmente ligada a Cristo, o Senhor vivo nos céus, pela unio mystica do Espírito Santo; mas para a nossa consciência Cristo, o mundo inteiro das coisas que se esperam, só está aí pelo testemunho de Deus em sua palavra. E por isso a fides salvifica inclui também sempre um conhecer. Esse conhecimento da fé salvadora distingue-se, é certo, essencialmente do conhecimento da fides historica: ainda que esta preceda, é depois enxertada de novo na fides salvifica e muda de caráter. Não é um mero ter por verdadeiro, mas um conhecimento firme e certo no sentido da Escritura — e a ideia bíblica de conhecer é bem outra e muito mais profunda que a do uso corrente. Mas nem por isso o conhecimento que o crente possui é imediato e obtido pela própria intelecção: está ligado à Sagrada Escritura, repousa sobre o testemunho de apóstolos e profetas como sobre a palavra de Deus.

Finalmente, a fé cristã distingue-se ainda da certeza imediata por não brotar por si mesma da natureza humana. No mundo exterior, nos principia, na observação, nas leis do pensamento, todo homem crê por si, sem ordem de ninguém, com base na própria intelecção. Assim não é com a fé cristã: a fé não é de todos. Por mais inteiramente humana que seja, não sendo donum superadditum mas restauração do homem, o homem psíquico está hostilmente diante do crer. Pois a fé em sentido cristão pressupõe abnegação, crucificação dos próprios pensamentos e da própria vontade, desconfiança de nós mesmos e, contra isso, confiança na graça de Deus em Cristo. Por isso, assim como a fides salvifica tem o próprio Deus por objeto e repousa sobre o seu testemunho, tem-no também por autor: é ele quem, pelo Espírito Santo, move o homem à fé e leva cativos todos os seus pensamentos à obediência de Cristo. Com isso a fé cristã é inteiramente determinada em sentido religioso: objeto, fundamento e origem estão total e unicamente em Deus. Por esse caráter religioso a fides salvifica distingue-se essencialmente da certeza imediata, às vezes designada pelo nome de fé, e também da pistis de que os gregos por vezes falavam em sentido religioso. A fé cristã é religião pura, religio subjectiva. É verdadeiramente religioso o homem que assim crê: ele é imagem, filho, herdeiro de Deus.

4. Na igreja cristã, porém, cedo se tornou dominante a concepção que via na fé um assentimento do entendimento à verdade revelada. Muito comum é a definição da fé como assentimento voluntário da alma. Agostinho dá a mesma definição: crer é pensar com assentimento; que é crer senão consentir que é verdadeiro o que se diz? A teologia escolástica costumava iniciar a investigação sobre a natureza da fé com a definição de Hebreus 11:1 e com essa última definição de Agostinho. Tomás diz que o objeto da fé é Deus, e as demais coisas apenas na medida em que têm alguma ordem para Deus; que o fundamento da fé está unicamente em que algo foi revelado por Deus; e que seu autor é Deus somente. O Vaticano definiu a fé como uma virtude sobrenatural pela qual, aspirando e ajudando a graça de Deus, cremos serem verdadeiras as coisas por ele reveladas — não por causa da verdade intrínseca das coisas, percebida pela luz natural da razão, mas por causa da autoridade do próprio Deus que revela, o qual não pode enganar-se nem enganar. A fé é, em Roma, um assentimento firme e certo às verdades da revelação com base na autoridade de Deus na Escritura e na igreja.

Na prática essa concepção da fé teve consequências muito nocivas. Em primeiro lugar, a fé tornou-se de fato nada mais que um assentimento intelectual a uma doutrina misteriosa que transcende de longe a razão, seja explicitamente a todos os seus dogmas, seja implicitamente a alguns necessários. Com essa concepção não é possível a distinção entre essa fé e a fides historica aceita pelos protestantes, e por isso a teologia romana a rejeitou decididamente: Roma não tem outra coisa senão uma fides historica. Daí seguiu-se ainda que essa fé, se nada mais era que um assentimento intelectual, não podia de modo algum bastar para a salvação: tinha de ser suplementada por outra virtude na vontade, o amor, e torna-se então fides formata. A fé perde com isso o seu lugar central na vida cristã, é rebaixada a uma das sete preparações para a gratia infusa da justificação, e o centro de gravidade passa a estar inteiramente no amor, isto é, nas boas obras. E finalmente tornou-se difícil sustentar que a fé nesse sentido fosse fruto da gratia interna, como Agostinho a entendia; a confissão de que a fé é dom de Deus foi enfraquecida, e a assistência e a inspiração de que fala o Vaticano são muitas vezes limitadas, na teologia romana, ao dom de uma graça geral ou até ao dom das forças naturais. Crer era tanto mais meritório quanto mais fosse ato livre e próprio do homem e mais consistisse na aceitação de mistérios incompreensíveis, num sacrificium intellectus.

A Reforma alterou essa concepção romana da fé em todos os aspectos: restaurou a natureza religiosa da pistis. Em primeiro lugar, fez uma distinção de princípio entre a fides historica e a fides salvifica. A fé histórica podia em alguns casos precedê-la e ter em si mesma grande valor, mas era e permanecia essencialmente distinta da fé salvadora. Todos os reformadores foram unânimes em julgar que a fé salvadora consistia, se não somente, ao menos também em conhecimento; nenhum deles permitiu que a fé se dissolvesse num afeto ou disposição inconsciente do ânimo. Mas o conhecimento que era elemento da fé salvadora era ainda assim bem diverso do da fé histórica: esta podia depois beneficiar a fides salvifica, mas mudava então de caráter e passava a viver de um novo princípio. A fé recebeu assim de novo, entre os reformadores, uma natureza própria, espiritual, religiosa, não gradual mas essencialmente distinta de toda outra fé na vida e na ciência, e mesmo da fé histórica. Naturalmente, tal fé não podia então proceder do mesmo princípio de que procede toda a outra fé no homem. A Reforma foi unânime na confissão de que a fides salvifica é dom de Deus: não fruto das forças naturais do homem nem sequer da graça comum, mas fruto da graça especial do Espírito Santo, atividade do homem novo, regenerado, e por isso também perfeitamente suficiente para a salvação. Em Roma a fé ocupa apenas lugar preparatório — e com razão, pois no fundo não é outra coisa que fé histórica; na Reforma ela recebeu de novo o lugar central que ocupa no Novo Testamento: não precisa ser suplementada pelo amor, basta para obter parte em todos os bens da salvação. Quem assim crê não está no vestíbulo, mas no santuário da verdade cristã; está incorporado a Cristo, é participante de todos os seus benefícios, herdeiro da salvação eterna.

Difícil foi, porém, com essa concepção profunda da fides salvifica, definir corretamente a sua natureza e vertê-la em palavras claras; a teologia da Reforma lutou com isso em todos os tempos. Quanto à questão de onde reside o ato próprio da fé, as respostas divergem muito: ele foi definido pelo conhecer, pelo assentir, pelo confiar, pelo refugiar-se, ora por um destes, ora por todos juntos. Só mais tarde, na doutrina da fé, poderá tudo isso ser investigado mais de perto. Mas isto é certo: a fé, na teologia da Reforma, não era um conhecer de verdades doutrinárias, mas um vínculo da alma com a pessoa de Cristo segundo as Escrituras e com a Escritura como palavra de Cristo. A fides salvifica era de novo, de ponta a ponta, religiosa: a graça de Deus em Cristo era o seu objeto, o testemunho de Deus em sua palavra o seu fundamento, o Espírito Santo o seu autor.

5. Essa fé traz consigo, segundo a Escritura, uma certeza própria. Ela é o firme fundamento e a convicção das coisas que se esperam e não se veem — não porque seja em si mesma tão firme e fixa, mas porque repousa sobre o testemunho e a promessa de Deus, como a continuação de Hebreus 11 claramente ensina. Ela torna os bens invisíveis da salvação tão certos para nós, e até muito mais certos, do que jamais o poderiam fazer a intelecção pessoal ou uma prova científica. Por isso a Escritura fala da ousadia, da confiança, da plena convicção da fé, e lhe atribui ânimo, glória e alegria; e a põe em oposição à dúvida, ao cuidado, ao medo, à desconfiança. A certeza é, por toda a Escritura, uma característica da fé. Mesmo em meio às mais pesadas tentações, quando tudo está contra ela, esperando contra a esperança, o crente se sustém como vendo o Invisível. Antes o crente abre mão de tudo do que negue a sua fé: nada lhe é precioso demais para dá-lo pela fé, nem o dinheiro nem os bens, nem a honra nem a vida. A fé é a vitória que venceu o mundo.

Essa certeza da fé era desconhecida da ciência; entrou no mundo com o cristianismo. A filosofia grega reconhecia duas espécies de certeza: uma que nascia da percepção sensível e outra que se obtinha pelo pensar; comumente a primeira era posta muito abaixo da segunda, pois a percepção dava apenas opinião, ao passo que o pensar levava à ciência. Aristóteles distinguiu nesta última ainda entre o que repousa sobre provas e o que repousa sobre evidência. Havia assim na ciência três vias para chegar à certeza: a observação, a argumentação e a evidência. Essa tríplice certeza obteve cidadania na filosofia, com a diferença de que os empiristas buscaram a certeza principalmente na observação, e os racionalistas no pensar. Ao lado dessa certeza científica o cristianismo colocou a certeza da fé. Concreta e praticamente, essa certeza foi exibida ao mundo cético na congregação crente, sobretudo em seus mártires e testemunhas de sangue; e teoricamente foi expressa e desenvolvida na teologia cristã.

Na doutrina da certeza da fé há uma diferença importante entre Roma e a Reforma quanto à questão de saber se a certitudo fidei inclui também a certitudo salutis, a segurança absoluta da própria salvação. Desde Agostinho, essa certitudo salutis foi negada e contestada pela igreja e pela teologia romanas. Roma sustenta que a segurança absoluta da salvação é quinhão apenas de alguns crentes, que a receberam por revelação especial, mas de modo algum decorre da natureza da fé: os crentes comuns têm, quanto à sua salvação, apenas uma certeza moral, conjectural, e não uma certitudo fidei. Para essa certeza não há lugar no sistema romano, pois ela só é compatível com a confissão do amor eletivo de Deus e tornaria os leigos independentes da igreja e do sacerdote. Contudo, os teólogos romanos reconhecem a certitudo fidei quanto às verdades objetivas da revelação: mais facilmente, dizia Agostinho, eu duvidaria de que vivo do que de que existe a verdade. E nisso, em geral, os teólogos protestantes concordam. Ninguém expressou essa certeza da fé de modo mais agudo e forte que Calvino: a fé é para ele uma certeza certa, firme, plena e fixa, mais certeza que apreensão, confiança e segurança do coração. Tanto para os teólogos luteranos como para os reformados, a fé é um assentimento firme, um conhecimento certo, que exclui toda dúvida e toda incerteza.

6. Pela ciência, e particularmente pela filosofia, pouca atenção se deu em geral a essa certeza da fé. Só Kant a incorporou e reconheceu primeiro, em sentido modificado. Kant admitiu no essencial três espécies de certeza. A primeira é a certeza empírica, problemática, que repousa sobre a observação própria ou alheia e consiste num opinar, num crer teórico ou prático. Depois há uma certeza lógica, científica, apodíctica, que é ela mesma dupla e tem caráter ou intuitivo, como na matemática, ou discursivo, como na filosofia. São as mesmas espécies de certeza já admitidas na filosofia grega. Mas ao lado destas Kant abre agora espaço para uma certeza moral, assertórica. O supra-sensível e o sobrenatural são, segundo Kant, incognoscíveis: Deus reteve intencionalmente esse conhecimento de nós, para que não puséssemos o destino do homem no saber, mas no agir, no cumprimento de sua vocação moral. Em vista desse destino ético, o homem aceita a verdade de algumas proposições sem as quais não pode cumprir essa tarefa: assim, por fundamentos práticos e psicológicos, ele crê na existência de Deus, da alma e da imortalidade. Isso é a fé moral. A certeza que o homem obtém por essa fé não é de natureza teórica, mas prática, moral; ela o faz dizer não "estou certo", nem tampouco "é moralmente certo", mas: "estou moralmente certo". Há assim uma tríplice certeza — empírica, lógica e moral —, expressa pelas palavras opinar, saber e crer. A filosofia posterior a Kant adotou em parte essa doutrina da certeza, mas nada de essencialmente novo lhe acrescentou.

Em compensação, a doutrina kantiana da certeza moral exerceu grande influência sobre a teologia. Quando a autoridade da Escritura e da igreja foi minada, buscou-se nela o fundamento da religião e da teologia, e o conhecido texto de João 7:17, já empregado pelo próprio Kant, tornou-se o ponto de partida dessa direção. Há de fato nessa certeza moral uma verdade profunda, e pode-se reconhecer com gratidão que Kant lhe atribuiu lugar em sua filosofia: das coisas invisíveis temos uma certeza inteiramente diversa da que temos daquelas que podemos perceber com os sentidos ou provar com o pensamento, e a fé nas coisas que se esperam e não se veem também não se dá sem a vontade, sem a disposição moral e a experiência espiritual. Mas nem por isso merece recomendação trocar a certeza da fé da Sagrada Escritura, da congregação e da teologia cristã pela certeza moral de Kant.

Antes de tudo, não é supérflua a observação de que a certeza é sempre um estado da consciência. O espírito humano pode, diante de uma questão ou de uma proposição, estar em estados diversos: de incerteza, dúvida, suspeita, opinião, mas também de certeza absoluta. A certeza é o repouso da consciência humana na verdade encontrada e reconhecida. O entendimento aspira ao conhecimento, à verdade; esse é o seu caráter e a sua natureza — o verdadeiro é o seu bem, a sua riqueza, a satisfação da sua necessidade. Quando encontra essa verdade, ele fica por isso satisfeito, repousa nela, sente-se seguro e certo. A certeza é descanso, paz, alegria, bem-aventurança: in veritate requies. A certeza é o estado normal do espírito humano, como a saúde o é do corpo; a dúvida e a incerteza, ao contrário, são inquietação, descontentamento, miséria. Falando com rigor, portanto, a certeza mesma não é moral; só assim se chama porque os fundamentos sobre os quais nela repousa a verdade são de natureza moral.

Mas então os fundamentos sobre os quais repousam a verdade científica e a moral não são tais que se possam separar um do outro e opor-se como teóricos e práticos. Na realidade não existe o dualismo que Kant admite em sua dupla certeza: nem subjetivamente cabeça e coração, nem objetivamente as coisas visíveis e as invisíveis se deixam assim partir em duas. Também na investigação científica o coração exerce influência, e a fé em sentido amplo ocupa aí grande lugar; muito do que na ciência passa por fixo e certo repousa sobre fundamentos morais ou imorais. E, inversamente, é ainda a consciência que, também na certeza moral, pesa e julga os fundamentos morais pelos quais uma ou outra proposição é reconhecida e aceita como verdadeira. A vontade pode mover o entendimento a aceitar uma verdade, mas essa aceitação é ela mesma um ato do entendimento, e o entendimento só pode fazê-lo porque em maior ou menor grau reconhece e vê a verdade. A certeza da fé não se produz por provas teóricas, mas tampouco por uma decisão da vontade.

Por fim, já antes se levantaram várias objeções contra a teoria kantiana dos postulados, e ainda se podem aumentar com estas perguntas: condiz com a natureza da verdadeira moralidade, que consiste também em humildade e modéstia, postular a existência de Deus e da imortalidade com base na nossa natureza e destinação morais? conserva a certeza moral a sua força mesmo quando o homem moral cai em pecados, está em tentação e conflito e é lançado de um lado para outro pela dúvida? são fundamentos morais suficientes para sobre eles edificar, contra a contestação da ciência, a fé na existência de Deus, a consciência do perdão, a esperança da bem-aventurança? Mas ainda que a certeza moral bastasse ao filósofo, ela é inutilizável para o cristão: mesmo que a religião da razão de Kant pudesse repousar sobre ela como sobre fundamento firme, ela não é capaz de sustentar a verdade da religião cristã.

Por todas essas razões a certeza moral de Kant não pode substituir a certeza cristã da fé. Prova-o, ademais, a distinção que Kant faz entre supor, crer e saber: supor era, segundo ele, um ter-por-verdadeiro sobre fundamentos insuficientes; crer, sobre fundamentos subjetivamente suficientes; saber, sobre fundamentos objetivamente suficientes. Ora, essa distinção é correta precisamente quanto ao crer na vida diária e no tocante às coisas que se podem saber — aí, de fato, crer é um grau menor e mais fraco de saber. Mas na religião a fé é a própria certeza. Tomás descreve melhor a distinção: é próprio da opinião que se aceite uma coisa com receio da oposta, de sorte que não tem adesão firme; é próprio da ciência que tenha adesão firme com visão intelectiva, pois possui certeza procedente da intelecção dos princípios; a fé, porém, está no meio: excede a opinião por ter adesão firme, e fica aquém da ciência por não ter visão. Crer e saber não se distinguem, pois, quanto à certeza: a fé traz consigo uma certeza tão forte quanto o saber. E, das duas, a certeza da fé é mesmo a mais forte em intensidade, quase inabalável e inextirpável. Pela fé alguém arrisca a vida e tudo o mais. Galileu jurou três vezes renunciar à sua fé no sistema copernicano; quem dá a vida por uma tese científica, por exemplo a de que a terra gira em torno do sol? Mas a religião gera mártires. A certeza da fé supera de longe a certeza científica em força intensiva.

Boaventura, no entanto, distingue com razão, dentro da certeza, entre a certitudo adhaesionis e a certitudo speculationis. A primeira é maior na certeza da fé do que na certeza científica, pois muitas vezes nem argumentos, nem lisonjas, nem torturas conseguem fazer vacilar a fé de alguém: ele se apega com toda a alma ao objeto de sua fé. Mas a certitudo speculationis pode às vezes ser mais forte na ciência que na fé. É o mesmo pensamento que Agostinho exprimiu: o saber é sempre sem vício, mas o crer ocorre às vezes com vício. O crer não é, por si, prova nenhuma da verdade daquilo que se crê; há grande diferença entre a segurança subjetiva e a verdade objetiva. Na fé, tudo depende dos fundamentos sobre os quais ela repousa.

§ 18. O fundamento da fé

1. Assim que a teologia cristã começou a refletir seriamente sobre o fundamento último e mais profundo da fé, chegou ao reconhecimento de que nenhuma prova intelectual ou histórica aduzida em favor da verdade da revelação poderia, no fim, ser válida para ela. Os apologistas do século II atribuíam grande valor a essas provas e, contra o naturalismo pagão, insistiam em que a fé era um ato racional e livre do homem. Mas já neles encontramos a consciência de que todas essas provas são impotentes para de fato mover alguém à fé: para isso é preciso ainda outra coisa e mais, a saber, a graça divina — Irineu a compara ao orvalho e à chuva, que tornam fecundo o campo.

Agostinho, porém, foi o primeiro que viu e confessou com clareza a necessidade da gratia interna. Em outros lugares atribui grande valor à igreja como motivo de fé; mas sua doutrina da gratia interna prova que para ele não era esse o motivo último e mais profundo de sua fé. Esse era Deus somente: Deus opera a nossa fé agindo de modo admirável em nossos corações, para que creiamos. Pois crer é sempre voluntário — nemo credit nisi volens —, e Deus, portanto, por sua graça, inclina a vontade e nos faz crer com o entendimento.

Também os teólogos posteriores atribuíram grande força aos praeambula fidei e aos motiva credibilitatis, e entre estes a igreja foi ocupando lugar cada vez mais proeminente. Mas todos concedem que esses motiva tornam a revelação não evidenter vera, e sim apenas evidenter credibilis: excluem a dúvida razoável e mostram que não é irracional crer e é antes irracional supor o contrário. Conclusivos, porém, não são. Tomás diz expressamente, ao tratar das provas filosóficas da trindade, que quem se esforça por provar a trindade das pessoas pela razão natural deprecia a fé; e que contra os adversários as provas de pouco valem, porque a própria insuficiência dos argumentos os confirmaria ainda mais em seu erro, ao julgarem que consentimos à verdade da fé por razões tão débeis. Por mais crível que as provas tornem a revelação, ela é e permanece uma verdade de fé. Em Roma isso tem de permanecer também por outra razão: do contrário se perderia a voluntariedade e, com ela, o mérito da fé.

A fé, portanto, aceita a verdade não com base na própria intuição, mas na autoridade divina: a fé não assente a coisa alguma senão porque foi revelada por Deus. E, para reconhecer essa autoridade de Deus, tem de preceder no homem uma mudança da vontade. Crer é sim um ato do entendimento, mas pressupõe uma inclinação da vontade pela graça: o entendimento tem de ser determinado à fé pela vontade, e o assensus fidei só se dá por Deus, movendo interiormente pela graça. Gregório XVI condenou, no breve de 26 de setembro de 1835, a opinião de Hermes de que os motiva credibilitatis fossem o fundamento efetivo da fé na revelação. E o Concílio Vaticano determinou que os motivos podem tornar crível a revelação divina, mas ninguém pode consentir à pregação evangélica como convém para alcançar a salvação sem a iluminação e a inspiração do Espírito Santo.

2. Com isso Roma adota, de fato, o mesmo ponto de vista subjetivo das igrejas da Reforma. Os motivos, por mais fortes que sejam, não podem realmente mover à fé. É só o Espírito de Deus que pode interior, firme e certamente convencer alguém da verdade da revelação divina. O fundamento mais profundo da fé é, também em Roma, não a Escritura nem a igreja, mas o lumen interius. Vários teólogos o reconheceram.

Para maior clareza, o ato de fé pode ser por um momento analisado num silogismo. A maior diz: Deus é veraz; se Ele se revela, sua revelação deve ser aceita pela fé. A menor diz: estes fatos — a igreja, a Escritura — são revelações de Deus. E segue-se a conclusão: logo, também estes devem ser cridos. Sobre a maior não há divergência; ela está firme em virtude da ideia de Deus e é reconhecida por todos. Ninguém nega que, se Deus se revela, Ele, como o veraz, também merece fé. Tanto mais tudo depende da menor: a diferença corre precisamente sobre se e onde Deus se revelou. O cristão crente diz: na Escritura, ou também na igreja. Mas como e por que são estas reconhecidas como revelação de Deus? Se com base em provas, nos motiva credibilitatis, então esse fundamento é humano, falível, e a fé não é puramente religiosa nem certa. A revelação de Deus só pode, em sentido religioso, ser crida com base na autoridade de Deus. Mas essa autoridade de Deus só se deixa ouvir ou fora de mim, na Escritura ou na igreja — cujo fundamento de fé é justamente o que investigo —, ou dentro de mim, na graça que me move a crer, no lumen interius, no testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Quem quiser sustentar a autoridade de Deus como fundamento último da fé, e assim a fé em sua natureza religiosa, tem de adotar um destes dois pontos de vista.

Ora, Cano disse sem hesitar que o fundamento último estava na graça que interiormente o movia à fé. Creio, dizia ele, que Deus é triúno porque Deus o revelou; e nisto — Deus revelou — creio imediatamente, movido por Deus mediante um instinto especial. Em Cano, portanto, o fundamento último de sua fé estava objetivamente no testemunho de Deus; mas que ele reconhecesse esse testemunho como divino devia-se à graça que movia sua vontade e seu entendimento a crer. Contra isso, porém, muitos objetaram que Cano na verdade não responde à pergunta sobre que fundamento aceita como divino o testemunho de Deus na Escritura e na igreja: diz apenas que Deus interiormente, por sua graça, lhe dá crer assim, sem prestar contas ulteriores. Ademais, essa opinião não se recomendava porque, como já observara Suárez, tinha tanta semelhança com a doutrina calvinista do testimonium Spiritus Sancti e podia levar tão facilmente a ela. Por isso os teólogos católicos empenharam-se em buscar o fundamento último da fé alhures que não no lumen interius.

Suárez era de opinião que não só o objeto, mas também o próprio fundamento da fé é de novo objeto de fé. Cremos não apenas que a Escritura é verdadeira porque Deus nela se revelou; mas também o fato de que Deus nela se revelou, cremo-lo porque Deus mesmo o atesta na Escritura. A revelação é ao mesmo tempo o quo e o quod creditur: um só e mesmo ato crê a Deus e crê em Deus. Assim como o olho percebe as cores e ao mesmo tempo a luz pela qual essas cores se tornam visíveis, assim também a fé conhece como divinas tanto as verdades reveladas quanto o testemunho em que repousam. Muitíssimos teólogos concordaram com essa opinião, mas ela não satisfez a todos. A circularidade era evidente: crê-se na Escritura porque ela é revelada, e que ela é revelada crê-se por sua vez porque a Escritura o atesta. Conduz também a um progressus in infinitum: creio numa revelação porque outra revelação a atesta, e assim por diante. Suárez responde que a revelação deve ser crida por si mesma, que Deus, revelando-se, revela nisso ao mesmo tempo que é Ele quem se revela. Mas permanece sempre aberta a pergunta: por que cremos no testemunho pelo qual Deus declara que é Ele quem se revelou?

Lugo, por isso, ensinou que aceitar o fato de que Deus se revelou na Escritura era sim sobrenatural, mas nem por isso podia chamar-se fé em sentido próprio. Pois crer é sempre aceitar algo como verdadeiro com base num testemunho; ora, se aceitar o fato da revelação fosse um crer em sentido próprio, isso pressuporia de novo um testemunho divino, e assim in infinitum. Lugo supunha, então, que reconhecer o fato da revelação não repousava sobre o testemunho de Deus, mas sobre isto: que o crente vê imediata e diretamente a própria revelação, com seus milagres e profecias, como revelação, tal como a razão reconhece imediatamente a verdade dos principia. A revelação anuncia-se como divina por seu conteúdo, assim como um enviado se acredita pelo conteúdo de sua mensagem, por exemplo por segredos que só seu mandante pode conhecer. Mas essa representação esbarra por sua vez na objeção de que esse reconhecimento da revelação ou é realmente imediato — e então se torna uma nova revelação no sujeito, uma intuição do divino de que aqui na terra, caminhando na fé, não participamos —, ou é de fato mediato, mas então decorre dos indicia e critérios da revelação, e vem assim a repousar novamente sobre as provas, sobre os motiva credibilitatis. Também essa solução é insatisfatória.

Outros, portanto, disseram: o testemunho de Deus é o fundamento último da fé. À pergunta "por que crês?", o cristão responde: porque Deus falou. Deus dixit. Fundamento mais profundo ele não pode indicar. Se se pergunta ainda: mas por que crês que Deus falou, por exemplo na Escritura? — só pode responder que Deus opera nele interiormente de modo que reconheça aquela Escritura como palavra de Deus. E com isso disse tudo. O testemunho de Deus é o fundamento, mas a graça, a vontade, é a causa da fé; as provas podem ser motiva credibilitatis, a vontade é no fim o motivum credendi. Também este ponto de vista não escapa à crítica. Pois pode-se perguntar, e de fato se perguntou, que fundamento tem o entendimento para aceitar a Escritura como palavra de Deus. A resposta de que a vontade ou a graça move a isso o entendimento é insuficiente: a vontade não pode mover o entendimento a aceitar algo como verdadeiro sem um fundamento cujo caráter crível ele próprio não veja. O entendimento tem de reconhecer ele mesmo que algo é divino e por isso merece fé. Do contrário a fé é irracional, e o crente se livra da dificuldade com um sic volo, sic jubeo, stat pro ratione voluntas.

Os teólogos católicos, portanto, tampouco souberam dar à pergunta pelo fundamento mais profundo da fé uma resposta que satisfizesse a todos; muitíssimos simplesmente se abstêm de decidir e deixam livre a escolha entre as opiniões mencionadas. Basta isso para mostrar que também Roma, com sua igreja infalível e seu papa infalível, não leva vantagem alguma sobre as igrejas da Reforma. O fundamento mais profundo da fé está, em Roma tanto quanto no protestantismo, no sujeito.

3. A Reforma tomou deliberada e livremente o seu ponto de vista no sujeito religioso, na fé do cristão, no testemunho do Espírito Santo. É verdade que em Lutero, Zuínglio e Melâncton ocorrem apenas algumas poucas afirmações sobre o testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Mas Calvino desenvolveu longamente essa doutrina e a vinculou não só ao conteúdo, mas também à forma e à autoridade da Escritura.

Que a Escritura é palavra de Deus, diz Calvino, não é estabelecido pela igreja, mas estava estabelecido antes da decisão dela, pois a igreja está fundada sobre o fundamento dos apóstolos e profetas. A Escritura traz consigo a própria autoridade, repousa em si mesma, é autopistos. Assim como a luz se distingue das trevas, a Escritura é reconhecida por sua própria verdade. Mas a certeza de que essa Escritura é palavra de Deus só a recebemos pelo testemunho do Espírito Santo. Provas e raciocínios têm muito valor, mas este testemunho supera de longe a todos: é omni ratione praestantius. Como só Deus pode testemunhar de si mesmo em sua palavra, assim sua palavra não encontra fé no coração dos homens antes de ser selada pelo testemunho interior do Espírito. O mesmo Espírito que falou pela boca dos profetas tem de operar em nossos corações e convencer-nos de que eles fielmente entregaram o que Deus lhes ordenara. O Espírito Santo é, pois, selo e confirmação da fé dos piedosos. Se temos esse testemunho em nós, não repousamos em juízo humano algum, mas estabelecemos sem dúvida, como se contemplássemos o próprio Deus nela, que a Escritura procedeu da boca de Deus pelo ministério de homens. A ela nos submetemos como a coisa posta fora do risco de estimação. Mas isso não deve ser entendido como se nos submetêssemos cegamente a algo que nos é desconhecido: não, temos consciência de possuir naquela Escritura a verdade invencível e sentimos ali viger e respirar uma indubitável força divina, pela qual, voluntária e conscientemente, e contudo viva e poderosamente, somos impelidos à obediência.

Calvino sabia que nesta doutrina não descrevia uma revelação privada, mas a experiência de todos os crentes. Esse testemunho também não estava nele isolado, mas em estreitíssima conexão com toda a atividade do Espírito no coração dos crentes: só por ela surge e subsiste a igreja inteira; toda a aplicação da salvação é obra do Espírito; e o testemunhar acerca da Escritura é apenas uma dentre as muitas atividades do Espírito na congregação dos crentes. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti também não dá revelações novas, mas firma o crente quanto à verdade de Deus, plenamente contida na Escritura; faz com que a fé seja uma cognitio certa e exclua toda dúvida. E encontra enfim sua analogia no testemunho que a nossa consciência dá à lei de Deus e na certeza que temos acerca da existência de Deus. Essa doutrina foi acolhida nas confissões de fé francesa, neerlandesa e de Westminster, e desenvolvida no espírito de Calvino por muitos teólogos reformados; fora da teologia reformada, encontrou aceitação também entre os luteranos.

Mas essa doutrina achou oposição da parte do socinianismo, do remonstrantismo e do romanismo. E gradualmente o testimonium internum começou também na teologia reformada a perder seu lugar de honra. Em Turretini, Amyraut e Du Moulin já aparece enfraquecido e identificado com aquela iluminação do Espírito Santo pela qual o entendimento é habilitado a perceber as notae e critérios da divindade da Sagrada Escritura. A fé já não se prende à Escritura direta e imediatamente, mas decorre da percepção das veritatis et divinitatis notae: entre a Escritura e a fé inserem-se as marcas da verdade da Escritura. De início ainda naquele sentido de que o perceber e discernir desses critérios se atribui a uma iluminação do entendimento pelo Espírito Santo. Mas logo o racionalismo considerou também isso desnecessário, confiou à razão a investigação da verdade da revelação e fundou a autoridade da Escritura em provas históricas. Mesmo teólogos ortodoxos mal ousavam ainda falar do testimonium internum; quando o testemunho do Espírito ainda é trazido à baila para confirmar a autoridade da Escritura, vem inteiramente no fim, e transforma-se numa prova experiencial. Michaelis declarou que nunca percebera tal testemunho do Espírito em seu coração, e tampouco o encontrava na Escritura. E Strauss afirmou que o testimonium Spiritus Sancti levava ao fanatismo ou ao racionalismo, e era o calcanhar de Aquiles do sistema protestante.

Várias causas, contudo, contribuíram para restituir em alguma medida a honra a essa doutrina: a crítica do racionalismo por Kant; a "prova do Espírito e do poder" a que Lessing apelava; o romantismo de Jacobi e Schleiermacher; e a infecundidade da apologética. Delas nasceu a convicção de que a justificação da religião cristã deve partir da fé da congregação. A verdade religiosa há de ser provada de outro modo que uma proposição da matemática. À revelação, que é o principium externum da religião, deve corresponder um órgão no próprio homem. Sem dúvida, tudo isso ainda difere muito do testimonium Spiritus Sancti tal como Calvino o desenvolveu: com frequência os teólogos mais recentes despojam esse testemunho de todo o seu caráter sobrenatural, e em geral o põem em conexão não com a forma, mas apenas com o conteúdo da Escritura, e às vezes só com o seu conteúdo religioso-ético. Mas, assim como os romanos, também os teólogos protestantes têm de reconhecer que o fundamento último e mais profundo da fé não pode estar fora de nós, em provas e raciocínios, na igreja e na tradição, mas só pode ser encontrado no próprio homem, no sujeito religioso. E essa convicção aproveita à doutrina do testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Um ou outro ainda toma o partido das provas históricas e combate o testimonium, como König; a maioria dos teólogos volta a acolhê-lo na dogmática e lhe destina nela um lugar maior ou menor.

4. Tanto a teologia romana quanto a protestante, na investigação do fundamento mais profundo da fé, chegaram ao sujeito religioso e têm de tomar posição na fé da congregação. Todo outro caminho trilhado para a prova da verdade religiosa mostrou-se um beco sem saída. Na aparência, isso é uma decepção — e assim o sente todo aquele que desconhece a essência própria da revelação e da religião e as transforma numa doutrina demonstrável pelo intelecto. Mas de fato esse desfecho é um ganho para a teologia. Pois prova que a teologia chegou à compreensão do caráter específico da religião e que está na mesma condição de todas as demais ciências.

O ponto de partida subjetivo não é, afinal, peculiar apenas à teologia. Tudo o que é objetivo só pode ser abordado a partir do sujeito; a Ding an sich é incognoscível e não existe para nós. O mundo dos sons tem realidade só para quem ouve. Todo viver e todo conhecer repousam numa correspondência entre sujeito e objeto. E o homem é tão rico porque está ligado ao mundo objetivo pelas mais diversas e múltiplas relações: física, vegetativa, sensitiva, intelectual, ética e religiosamente está em harmonia com esse mundo; é um microcosmo.

Ora, a Escritura nos precede em conceber religiosamente todas essas relações do homem com o mundo e em explicá-las teisticamente. O homem não se colocou a si mesmo nessa relação com o cosmo: desde o princípio está constituído para aquele mundo, e este, reciprocamente, para ele. Porque é imagem de Deus, é também senhor da terra. E não é só que Deus tenha um dia lançado esses laços entre homem e mundo; Ele é também quem continuamente, de momento a momento, os mantém e os faz operar. É um só e mesmo Logos por quem foram feitas todas as coisas dentro e fora do homem; Ele é antes de todas as coisas, e por Ele elas ainda sempre subsistem (Jo 1,3; Cl 1,15). Mais de perto ainda, a Escritura nos dá a conhecer o Espírito de Deus como princípio e autor de toda a vida no homem e no mundo (Sl 104,30), e nomeadamente também da vida intelectual, ética e religiosa (Jó 32,8).

Naturalmente a operação desse Espírito é diversa conforme as relações em que o homem está com o mundo. Fisicamente consiste apenas no impulso que faz o homem e o animal buscarem de Deus o seu alimento; é ainda como o instinto que guia inconscientemente a ação. Mas forma mais alta assume essa operação do Espírito de Deus na vida intelectual, ética e religiosa do homem: torna-se então ratio, conscientia, sensus divinitatis, que não são faculdades em repouso, mas suscetibilidades que, pela influência de fenômenos afins vindos do mundo exterior, passam ao ato. E esse ato pode agora levar o nome de testemunho, dado pelo espírito humano aos fenômenos correspondentes fora dele.

Nosso espírito não faz outra coisa senão dar sempre testemunho à verdade que nos vem de fora. Ele não produz essa verdade a partir de si mesmo pelo pensar e pelo raciocinar; não a cria, apenas a reproduz e reflete. A verdade existe antes e independentemente do espírito humano; repousa em si mesma, no Logos, em quem tudo tem subsistência. Do lado do homem só isto é necessário: que veja a verdade e a acolha em si, que lhe dê o seu testemunho e a sele pelo pensar e conhecer. Assim Jesus testemunhou o que vira e ouvira e deu testemunho da verdade (Jo 18,37); e assim os apóstolos foram testemunhas da palavra da vida, que haviam contemplado e apalpado em Cristo (1 Jo 1,3). Dar tal testemunho à verdade é, para o espírito humano, descanso, alegria, bem-aventurança. Caiu então a distância entre nós e a verdade: ela nos achou, nós a achamos. Há contato imediato. Ela nos faz, por si mesma, suas testemunhas. Toda verdade faz de quem a conhece uma testemunha, um arauto, um profeta. Entrando em nosso espírito, ela traz consigo o seu próprio testemunho; ela mesma o suscita em nós. Concebido religiosamente, é o próprio Logos que, por nosso espírito, dá testemunho ao Logos no mundo. É um só e mesmo Espírito que objetivamente desdobra a verdade diante de nós e subjetivamente a eleva em nosso espírito à certeza. Sobretudo na religião esse testemunho é claro: Deus não se deixa sem testemunho — revela seu poder e sua divindade nas criaturas e Ele mesmo lhes dá testemunho em nossa mente por seu Espírito. Todo conhecimento da verdade é essencialmente um testemunho que o espírito do homem lhe presta e, no fundamento mais profundo, um testemunho do Espírito de Deus à Palavra pela qual todas as coisas foram feitas.

5. Este testemunho do espírito do homem à verdade é pressuposto e fundamento e, ao mesmo tempo, analogia do testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Calvino e outros já apontaram essa concordância. Mas analogia não é identidade. A religião cristã tem como principium externum não a revelação geral de Deus na natureza, mas uma revelação especial de Deus em Cristo. A isso deve corresponder o principium internum. A mente do homem psíquico é insuficiente para discernir as coisas do Espírito de Deus. Deus só pode ser conhecido por Deus: "quem é de Deus ouve as palavras de Deus" (Jo 8,47). Ninguém pode falar de Deus senão quem fala a partir dele e por ele. Portanto, também só aquele mesmo Espírito que falou pelos profetas e apóstolos pode em nossos corações dar testemunho à verdade e assim erguê-la acima de toda dúvida e levá-la à certeza absoluta.

Tal testemunho do Espírito Santo nos corações dos crentes é ensinado com toda a clareza na Escritura. Na revelação objetiva — isto é, na pessoa de Cristo e na Escritura como sua palavra — está incluído tudo aquilo de que o homem necessita para o conhecimento e o serviço de Deus. A revelação de Deus está consumada em Cristo e descrita na Escritura de maneira perfeitamente suficiente. Mas essa revelação em Cristo e em sua palavra é meio, não fim. O fim é a criação de uma nova humanidade que desdobre plenamente a imagem de Deus. Por isso toda a revelação tem de ser transferida de Cristo para a igreja, da Escritura para a consciência: Deus busca morada no homem. Essa grande obra divina da aplicação da salvação, da condução a toda a verdade, está confiada ao Espírito Santo.

Já nos dias do Antigo Pacto Ele era o autor de todo o conhecimento e de toda a vida religioso-ética. Mas Israel estava em estado de menoridade e sob a tutela da lei; o Espírito Santo ainda não era, porquanto Cristo ainda não fora glorificado (Jo 7,39). Por isso os profetas olhavam com saudade para os dias do Novo Pacto, em que todos seriam ensinados pelo Senhor e conduzidos pelo Espírito (Jr 31,34). Segundo a promessa, esse Espírito é derramado no dia de Pentecostes. Toda a sua atividade é chamada por Jesus um testemunhar, um glorificar dele mesmo (Jo 15,26; 16,14). O Espírito Santo é a verdadeira e onipotente Testemunha em favor de Cristo. O mundo inteiro está hostil diante de Cristo, ninguém toma a sua causa; mas o Espírito Santo entra em cena diante desse mundo como paráclito, como defensor de Cristo. E o faz antes de tudo na Escritura: esta é o testemunho, o alegado do Espírito Santo em favor de Cristo, que Ele profere e sustenta através de todos os séculos. Este testimonium Spiritus Sancti in Sacra Scriptura precede e serve de fundamento ao testemunho que o Espírito dá nos corações dos crentes. Assim como os pensamentos de Deus estão objetivamente incorporados no mundo e dele são colhidos pelo espírito humano, assim também a palavra da revelação é primeiro descrita por inteiro na Sagrada Escritura, para depois ser selada em nossos corações pelo testemunho do Espírito Santo. Também aqui a atividade do espírito do homem não consiste noutra coisa senão em dar testemunho à verdade e em repensar o que Deus pensou de antemão. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti nos crentes prova aqui não ser uma nova revelação nem uma comunicação de verdades desconhecidas; é essencialmente distinto da profecia e da inspiração; apenas faz que a verdade, que existe fora e independentemente de nós, seja entendida como verdade, e assim a assegura e sela na consciência humana. O sujeito não cria a verdade; apenas a reconhece e a afirma.

Mas a analogia estende-se ainda mais longe. Os objetos do conhecimento humano são todos autopista: repousam em si mesmos, sua existência pode ser reconhecida, mas não provada. Provas em sentido estrito só são possíveis quanto a proposições derivadas, e consistem em reduzi-las a proposições gerais. Provar é reconduzir o desconhecido ao conhecido, o particular ao geral, o incerto ao estabelecido; talvez seja ainda mais exato dizer que provar consiste em reduzir proposições incertas e postas em dúvida a outras que já são de uma vez por todas geralmente aceitas como estabelecidas. Pois os prima principia, sobre os quais todas as provas em última instância repousam, não são eles mesmos suscetíveis de prova alguma: estão firmes só pela fé e para a fé. As provas, portanto, só têm força para quem concorda conosco nesses principia: contra principia negantem non est disputandum.

Assim, na moral, pode-se provar que o furto é ilícito a quem reconhece a autoridade da lei moral, mas toda prova é impotente diante de quem nega essa autoridade. A própria lei moral é autopistos, repousa em si mesma; é como o sol, que só se vê por seus próprios raios; não depende de prova nem de raciocínio; é poderosa porque está aí, põe-se e mantém-se a si mesma; sua força consiste em sua autoridade, na majestade divina com que faz ouvir o seu "não farás" em nossa consciência. A lei moral enfraqueceria a si mesma se raciocinasse conosco e se submetesse ao nosso juízo. Ela aparece categoricamente e não quer saber de exceções nem de desculpas. À pergunta "por que te submetes à lei moral?" só uma resposta é possível: porque ela me revela a vontade de Deus. Mas se se perguntar em seguida: por que crês que essa lei moral é a vontade de Deus? — nenhuma resposta conclusiva se pode mais dar. Quem assim mesmo quiser responder toma um atalho e apela a toda sorte de notae e critérios, nos quais aquela divindade da lei moral se lhe dá a conhecer. Mas provas conclusivas não são essas. E assim se passa com todos os principia: repousam em si mesmos e só estão firmes para a fé.

Do mesmo modo se dá na teologia. Também aqui as provas só são possíveis quanto às proposições derivadas: a divindade de Cristo pode ser provada a quem reconhece a autoridade da Escritura. Mas a autoridade da Escritura repousa em si mesma e não é suscetível de prova alguma. A Sagrada Escritura é autopistos e, portanto, o fundamento último da fé; um fundamento mais profundo não se pode aduzir. À pergunta "por que crês na Escritura?" a única resposta é: porque ela é palavra de Deus. Mas se se perguntar em seguida: por que crês que a Sagrada Escritura é palavra de Deus? — o cristão fica devendo a resposta. Sem dúvida apelará então às notae e critérios da Escritura, à majestade de seu estilo, à sublimidade de seu conteúdo; mas estes não são os fundamentos de sua fé, são apenas propriedades e marcas descobertas depois na Escritura pelo pensamento crente, assim como as provas da existência de Deus não precedem a fé nem a sustentam, mas dela procedem e por ela são excogitadas. Todas as provas em favor da fé na Escritura, tiradas de suas notae e critérios, mostram do modo mais claro que nenhum fundamento mais profundo pode ser indicado. O Deus dixit é o primum principium a que todos os dogmas, também o referente à Escritura, podem ser reduzidos. O vínculo da alma com a Escritura como palavra de Deus está por trás da consciência e por baixo das provas; é de natureza mística, tal como a fé nos principia nas diversas ciências.

6. Contra essa representação levanta-se, porém, de vários lados a objeção de que assim o crer se torna inteiramente arbitrário. Em vez de dar razões pelas quais se crê na Escritura como palavra de Deus, responde-se que Deus faz que assim se creia. Com isso o maometano pode provar a sua fé no Alcorão, e todo supersticioso a sua superstição. O sic volo, sic jubeo toma o lugar da razão e da prova.

Contra isso deve observar-se, em primeiro lugar, que o crente de fato não pode indicar para a revelação fundamento mais profundo do que a sua autoridade divina, reconhecida pela fé. Mas nem por isso deixa de ter algo a apresentar contra o adversário dessa revelação. É assim: provas conclusivas ele não tem, não pode mover o adversário à fé; mas para a defesa tem ao menos tanto a dizer quanto o outro tem para o ataque. Também a incredulidade, no fim, não repousa em provas e raciocínios, mas está enraizada no coração. Crentes e incrédulos estão nisso em pé de completa igualdade: a convicção de ambos é solidária de toda a sua personalidade e só é apoiada a posteriori por prova e raciocínio. E se agora ambos travam batalha um contra o outro com essas provas a posteriori, os crentes não estão em condição mais desfavorável que os que não creem. Deus é conhecível o bastante para os que o buscam, e oculto o bastante para os que dele fogem: há luz bastante, dizia Pascal, para os que só desejam ver, e obscuridade bastante para os que têm disposição contrária. Provas históricas e racionais não converterão ninguém, mas são para a defesa da fé exatamente tão poderosas quanto os argumentos do partido contrário para a justificação de sua incredulidade.

Ademais, o testemunho que os crentes dão à revelação cristã, à Escritura, não é decerto universalmente humano, mas é universalmente cristão. Toda a cristandade é unânime nessa confissão. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti não é o testemunho de um spiritus privatus, mas de um só e mesmo Espírito, que habita em todos os crentes; Calvino declarou, ao tratar desse testemunho, não descrever outra coisa senão a experiência de todos os crentes. É um poderoso testemunho, dado pela igreja de todos os séculos à Escritura como palavra de Deus. Sobre nenhum dogma reina unanimidade tão grande. É um fato que não pode ser posto em linha com a alucinação ou o arbítrio e que, em todo caso, requer explicação.

Além disso, o crente não pode indicar fundamento mais profundo para a sua fé do que a autoridade divina da Sagrada Escritura, mas pode dar conta ulterior do modo como chegou a essa fé. É assim: em regra alguém nasce e é criado nessa fé; mais tarde descobre por si mesmo que está preso à Escritura com toda a alma, e então procura pensar sobre isso e prestar contas desse vínculo místico. Mas não raro acontece que alguém chegue em idade mais avançada à conversão e à fé na Escritura. E também os que desde a juventude viveram dessa fé são muitas vezes abalados e agitados pela crítica, e só gradualmente chegam à firme certeza da fé. Ora, qual é a experiência pela qual a fé na revelação é primeiro despertada, ou depois restaurada e fortalecida? É naturalmente diversa nos diversos crentes; mas é sempre de natureza religioso-ética, espiritual. O que realmente nos faz crer não é a percepção do nosso entendimento nem uma decisão da nossa vontade; é um poder que está acima de nós, que inclina a nossa vontade, que ilumina o nosso entendimento, que sem coação e contudo eficazmente leva cativos os nossos pensamentos e deliberações à obediência de Cristo. Foi isso o que Agostinho confessou ao atribuir a fé à gratia interna, o que Tomás reconheceu ao dizer que o assensus fidei vem de Deus, movendo interiormente pela graça, e o que o Concílio Vaticano declarou ao testemunhar que a fé não nasce sem a iluminação e a inspiração do Espírito Santo. E essa foi a convicção de toda a Reforma: a fé é dom de Deus, operação do Espírito Santo.

Crer é um ato do entendimento, uma adesão imediata da consciência à revelação, não mediada por provas. Mas essa fé pressupõe uma mudança na relação de todo o ser humano com Deus; pressupõe a regeneração, a conversão da vontade: nemo credit nisi volens. O saber constrange — ninguém pode negar uma proposição matemática. Mas o crer é livre, é o ato da mais alta liberdade, porque é o ato da mais profunda abnegação. Se Deus liga a salvação não ao saber, mas ao crer, isso é prova de que Ele não constrange nem quer constranger — "pois a violência não convém a Deus", diz belamente a Carta a Diogneto. Precisamente porque a fé não é fruto de provas científicas, ela não vem à existência à parte do coração e da vontade do homem. É essa a verdade que está na doutrina de Kant e dos neokantianos sobre a fé moral. A fé não é conclusão de um silogismo. Mas, por outro lado, tampouco é um ato da vontade, um postulado: o filho pródigo não postula ao voltar à casa do pai. A fé também não é um imperium voluntatis: não se pode crer porque se quer. A vontade não pode ordenar à consciência que aceite algo como verdade se ela mesma de modo nenhum lhe vê a verdade. Crer não é arbítrio, mas também não é cego. Pressupõe uma mudança da vontade — operari sequitur esse —, mas é um reconhecimento livre e espontâneo, pelo entendimento, da palavra de Deus. Como o olho, ao ver o sol, fica de imediato convencido de sua realidade, assim o regenerado contempla a verdade da revelação de Deus. Para o regenerado, a fé na revelação é tão natural quanto para o homem moral o reconhecimento da lei moral; está implantada na natureza da vida espiritual, enraizada nas profundezas misteriosas do coração regenerado. O crente pode abandonar essa fé tão pouco quanto a si mesmo: a si mesmo pode negar-se, a vida pode sacrificar, mas a sua fé não pode largar. A fé na revelação é, no cristão, una com a fé em si mesmo: ele teria de renunciar à fé em si, em sua filiação, no perdão de seus pecados, na veracidade e fidelidade de Deus, para não ver na revelação a palavra de Deus. A fé na revelação é una com o que nele há de melhor; em seus melhores momentos é que ele está mais firme nessa fé. Aconteça o que aconteça contra ela, ele não pode agir de outro modo nem lhe é lícito agir de outro modo.

Por fim, muita coisa se levanta contra essa sua fé. Não só de fora, mas muito mais de dentro. Por mais que a vontade seja inclinada e o entendimento iluminado, permanece no crente ainda muito que se ergue contra essa obediência da fé. A fé é, por ser prova das coisas que não se veem, uma luta contínua. Pecados do coração e erros da cabeça opõem-se à fé, e não raro têm a aparência a seu favor. Permanece no crente um dualismo enquanto está na terra: um dualismo não de cabeça e coração, mas de carne e espírito, do homem velho e do homem novo. A fé conserva mais ou menos um caráter sobrenatural, na medida em que ultrapassa a natureza do homem psíquico. Ainda não é plenamente natural; tão logo o venha a ser, cessa ela mesma e passa à visão. A fé é precisamente fé porque vê algo que o homem psíquico não percebe. Mas esse dualismo, por doloroso que seja, serve por outro lado para confirmação da fé. Pois se a fé não brota das disposições naturais do homem, e não é nem conclusão de um silogismo nem decisão da vontade, então a sua presença é ao mesmo tempo uma prova de sua verdade. Nosso próprio espírito não nos impele por natureza a chamar Deus de nosso Pai e a contar-nos entre os seus filhos. Há uma diferença essencial, e também facilmente reconhecível, entre o testemunho do Espírito Santo, quando diz à nossa alma "eu sou a tua salvação", e a tentação de Satanás, quando diz "paz, paz, e nenhum perigo". Poderá alguém ser impelido pelo diabo a chamar Deus, na fé, de Abba, Pai? A fé cristã remete ao testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Ainda que a Teologia insulte e a Filosofia zombe, Deus mesmo é o fundamento último da minha fé em Deus.

7. Este testimonium Spiritus Sancti foi relacionado por Calvino e pelos teólogos reformados de modo demasiado unilateral à autoridade da Sagrada Escritura. Parecia que ele não tinha outro conteúdo senão a certeza subjetiva da Escritura como palavra de Deus. Com isso esse testimonium passou a estar por si só, desprendeu-se da vida da fé e parecia indicar uma revelação extraordinária, da qual Michaelis foi bastante honesto para reconhecer que nunca a experimentara.

A Escritura, porém, ensina bem diversamente. Em geral, o Espírito Santo é prometido por Jesus como o Consolador, o Espírito da verdade, que em primeiro lugar conduz os apóstolos e depois, por meio da palavra deles, também todos os crentes à verdade, dá testemunho entre eles acerca de Cristo e o glorifica (Jo 15,26; 16,14). Para esse fim Ele convence do pecado, regenera e leva à confissão de Cristo como Senhor; assegura ainda da filiação e da herança celeste (Rm 8,14ss), dá a conhecer todas as coisas que por Deus foram outorgadas ao crente (1 Co 2,12) e é na igreja o autor de todas as virtudes cristãs e de todos os dons espirituais. Claramente se vê de todas essas passagens que o testemunho do Espírito Santo é de natureza religioso-ética e está estreitissimamente ligado à própria vida de fé. Não se dá à parte da fé, não é voz do céu, nem sonho, nem visão; é um testemunho que o Espírito Santo dá em, com e por meio do nosso próprio espírito, na fé. Não é concedido a incrédulos, mas é porção somente dos filhos de Deus.

Episcópio objetou, por isso, que o testimonium Spiritus Sancti não pode ser fundamento da fé, porque só vem depois dela. Mas a própria fé, desde o seu primeiríssimo início, é obra do Espírito Santo e recebe no Espírito da adoção o seu selo e a sua confirmação. O próprio crer é um testemunho do Espírito Santo em nossos corações e por nosso espírito. Só há distinção entre o Espírito de Deus e o nosso espírito neste testemunho na medida em que o nosso espírito ainda sempre lhe resiste e tem de ser continuamente conduzido à obediência.

Por isso o testemunho do Espírito Santo não dá certeza das verdades objetivas da salvação fora da conexão com o estado do sujeito religioso. Ele assegura essas verdades porque elas estão em ligação inseparável com a regeneração e a conversão, com o perdão e a filiação do crente. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti é, antes de tudo, a certeza de que somos filhos de Deus: essa é a verdade central, o cerne e o ponto médio desse testemunho. Mas em conexão com ela sela também as verdades objetivas da salvação. Com esta determinação, contudo: o testimonium não nos revela nenhuma dessas verdades, nem nos põe em condição de derivá-las por reflexão da natureza da nossa vida espiritual. A iluminação do Espírito Santo não é fonte de conhecimento da verdade cristã; não nos dá a conhecer verdades materiais ocultas ao homem natural; apenas nos faz entender e apreender as mesmas coisas de outro modo, mais profunda e espiritualmente. Paulo diz expressamente que o Espírito nos faz conhecer as coisas que objetivamente nos foram outorgadas por Deus em Cristo (1 Co 2). O Espírito que os crentes recebem é o Espírito de Cristo, que tudo toma de Cristo e é recebido da pregação do evangelho. Mas as verdades mesmas nos são conhecidas de outra parte, a partir da Escritura; são apenas subjetivamente seladas pelo testemunho do Espírito Santo.

Disso se segue que o objeto próprio a que o Espírito Santo dá testemunho nos corações dos crentes não é outro senão a divinitas da verdade que nos foi outorgada em Cristo. Dados históricos, cronológicos, geográficos nunca são, como tais, em si mesmos, objeto do testemunho do Espírito Santo. Nem mesmo os fatos da salvação são, como nuda facta, o conteúdo desse testemunho: nenhum crente é, pelo testemunho do Espírito Santo, assegurado em sentido científico da concepção sobrenatural e da ressurreição de Cristo. A única coisa a que o testemunho do Espírito Santo se refere é a divinitas. Mas então também a divinitas de todas aquelas verdades que foram reveladas na Escritura e nos foram outorgadas por Deus em Cristo. É incorreto fazer o testimonium incidir só sobre aquilo que em sentido mais estrito é apenas religioso-ético. De fato, a divinitas é o único objeto direto desse testemunho, mas essa divinitas não é propriedade só de algumas afirmações religiosas e morais, e sim igualmente de fatos e obras: Cristo mesmo é uma pessoa histórica, a redenção foi realizada por atos históricos, e o testimonium Spiritus Sancti imprime também a esta história a marca da divinitas.

Por isso, com razão, também trouxe Calvino este testimonium à conexão com a Escritura como palavra de Deus. Pois esta Escritura não só tem, por consenso de todos, rico significado religioso-ético para a vida cristã, mas contém também uma doutrina acerca de si mesma. O Espírito Santo não revela ao crente uma única verdade — nem sobre a pessoa de Cristo, nem sobre a Sagrada Escritura; o crente só pode confessar o que Deus lhe outorgou em Cristo. Mas a Escritura contém uma doutrina sobre si mesma tanto quanto sobre Cristo. E o testimonium Spiritus Sancti quanto à Sagrada Escritura consiste nisto: não em que o crente receba uma intuição imediata e celeste da divindade da Escritura; nem em que mediatamente conclua pela sua divindade a partir das notae e critérios; nem em que ascenda à sua divindade a partir da experiência do poder que dela procede; mas em que ele reconheça livre e espontaneamente a autoridade com que a Sagrada Escritura por toda parte se apresenta e que ela mesma repetidamente reivindica de modo expresso para si. Não a autenticidade, nem a canonicidade, nem sequer a inspiração, mas a divinitas da Escritura, a sua autoridade divina, é aqui o objeto próprio do testemunho do Espírito Santo. Ele faz que o crente se submeta à Escritura e o liga a ela na mesma medida e com a mesma força com que o liga à pessoa do próprio Cristo; assegura-lhe que na necessidade e na morte, na vida e no morrer, pode confiar naquela palavra de Deus e com ela comparecer sem temor até diante do Juiz do céu e da terra. A crítica histórica da Escritura só encontra, por isso, resistência dentro da congregação na medida em que atenta contra essa divinitas da Escritura e assim mina o testemunho da filiação divina, a esperança da glória, a certeza da salvação.

Em certo sentido há neste testimonium Spiritus Sancti uma circularidade oculta: a divinitas da Escritura é provada por este testemunho, e a divinitas deste testemunho, por sua vez, pela Escritura. Só que o testimonium Spiritus Sancti ocorre aqui sob dois respeitos: o crente primeiro se sente ligado em sua alma à palavra de Deus, e só depois aprende da Sagrada Escritura a entender que essa fé na Escritura foi operada em seu coração pelo Espírito Santo. A rigor, o testemunho do Espírito Santo também não é o fundamento último da sua fé, pois a Escritura é autopistos; mas é o meio pelo qual ele reconhece a divindade da Escritura. Escritura e testemunho do Espírito Santo relacionam-se entre si como verdade objetiva e certeza subjetiva, como os prima principia e a sua evidência, como a luz e o olho. Reconhecida uma vez em sua divindade, a Escritura permanece para a fé da congregação inabalavelmente fixada como palavra de Deus, de sorte que é principium e norma da fé e da vida.

8. Este testemunho do Espírito Santo não é anulado pelo fato de ser aparentemente tão diverso nos crentes. Já Belarmino lhe objetava que Lutero e Calvino, apesar deste testimonium, emitiram juízo muito divergente sobre a Epístola de Tiago. Mas o Espírito Santo testifica no coração dos crentes não só acerca da Sagrada Escritura, e sim igualmente em relação a todas as demais verdades da salvação; não há igreja que, neste sentido, não aceite um testemunho, uma iluminação do Espírito Santo. E, contudo, com isso não fica excluída a diferença na confissão das verdades particulares. Cremos numa santa igreja cristã universal, uma comunhão dos santos; todos os crentes confessam um só Senhor, uma só fé, um só batismo, e foram embebidos num só Espírito; e todavia há divisão e contenda entre as igrejas e nos principais artigos de fé. A unidade da igreja cristã quanto à Escritura é muito maior que em qualquer outro dogma, não excetuados sequer o da Trindade e o da divindade de Cristo. E toda essa diferença não nos faz duvidar da unidade da fé e do conhecimento, da catolicidade da igreja, da condução do Espírito a toda a verdade; pois a diferença permanecerá enquanto a igreja for imperfeita, o coração corrompido, a percepção limitada, a fé pequena e fraca.

Também no crente individual o testimonium Spiritus Sancti nem sempre é igualmente forte e alto; porque está estreitissimamente ligado à fé e à vida da fé, sobe e desce e está sujeito à dúvida e à oposição. Quando no crente o pecado ganha a dianteira, obscurece-se a consciência do seu perdão e o testemunho do Espírito Santo perde em poder: a nossa fé na Escritura decresce de tempos em tempos com a nossa confiança em Cristo. A confissão do testimonium Spiritus Sancti é tão alta e ideal que a realidade da vida cristã fica muitas vezes bem abaixo dela.

Acresce a isso que a Escritura é certamente um livro também para o crente individual, mas ainda assim em conexão com a igreja de todos os séculos. A Escritura foi outorgada à igreja inteira, aos crentes de todos os tempos e lugares. O crente individual sempre se alimenta de uma pequena porção da Escritura; há seções inteiras que, para crentes individuais, sim, para igrejas e épocas inteiras, permanecem livro fechado. Mas a confissão da Escritura como palavra de Deus é confissão de toda a igreja, à qual o crente individual adere e que ele também, por sua pessoa e na medida da sua fé, sustenta e mantém. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti não é opinião privada, mas o testemunho da igreja de todos os séculos, de toda a cristandade, de toda a humanidade renascida. Também essa igreja esteve outrora, em todos os seus membros, como o mundo, hostil diante da palavra de Deus. Mas o Espírito Santo a acolheu nela e com ela como a verdade de Cristo; quebrou a sua hostilidade, iluminou o seu entendimento, inclinou a sua vontade, e a conserva na verdade de século em século e de dia em dia.

Toda a confissão da congregação é um testimonium Spiritus Sancti. É o sim e o amém que a congregação pronuncia sobre a verdade de Deus. É o "Abba, Pai, a tua palavra é a verdade" que sobe do coração de todos os crentes. Tão longe está o testimonium Spiritus Sancti de ser o calcanhar de Aquiles do protestantismo, que antes merece ser chamado a pedra angular da confissão cristã, a coroa e o selo de toda a verdade cristã, o triunfo do Espírito Santo no mundo. Tirai o testemunho do Espírito Santo, não só em relação à Escritura, mas a todas as verdades da salvação, e não há mais igreja. Pois o testemunho que o Espírito Santo dá à Escritura como palavra de Deus é apenas um som isolado no cântico que Ele põe nos lábios da congregação; é apenas uma pequena parte daquela grande obra divina que lhe foi confiada, a saber, fazer habitar a plenitude de Cristo na sua congregação.

Mas, assim considerado, este testemunho do Espírito Santo tampouco é, diante dos adversários, desprovido de todo valor. Quando é desprendido de todo o seu ambiente e cortado da vida de fé em que se enraíza, da comunhão dos santos em que floresce, do conjunto da verdade cristã a que se liga, então perde certamente, diante dos assaltantes, todo o seu poder, e o sim de um não é mais forte que o não do outro. Mas entendido como testemunho, dado pelo Espírito Santo nos corações de todos os filhos de Deus acerca da verdade que está em Cristo o Senhor, não deixa de causar impressão no ânimo mesmo do assaltante mais obstinado. Ainda então não vem a colocar-se em linha com um raciocínio lógico ou uma prova matemática: conserva um poder próprio. Mas infeliz seria a ciência se lhe fosse lícito contar apenas com o demonstrável. Não tem a consciência poder algum, porque o homem imoral a todo momento vai contra o seu testemunho? O poder de todas essas grandezas morais está precisamente nisto: que não se demonstram, mas em alta majestade se colocam diante da consciência de cada um. São poderosas pela autoridade com que se apresentam. Um pai não prova a sua autoridade aos filhos, mas a mantém com droit divin. E assim faz a Sagrada Escritura. Ela manteve a sua autoridade na congregação de Cristo até o dia de hoje; fez que todos os crentes, e entre eles as maiores inteligências e as almas mais nobres, se curvassem diante da sua autoridade. Que poder no mundo se pode comparar ao da Escritura? O testimonium Spiritus Sancti é a vitória da loucura da cruz sobre a sabedoria do mundo, o triunfo dos pensamentos de Deus sobre as deliberações do homem. Nesse sentido o testemunho do Espírito Santo possui um excelente valor apologético. Pois esta é a vitória que vence o mundo: a nossa fé.

§ 19. Fé e teologia

1. A igreja cristã não se contentou com a fé: quase desde o princípio aspirou ao conhecimento da verdade religiosa e honrou uma ciência particular, a teologia. Não se pode dizer, porém, que esse impulso para a ciência esteja encerrado na fé como tal. Pois a fé é certeza e exclui toda dúvida; repousa na palavra de Deus e nela tem o bastante. "Depois de Cristo Jesus não nos é necessária curiosidade alguma, nem investigação depois do evangelho; quando cremos, nada desejamos além de crer", diz Tertuliano. Por isso o direito e o valor da ciência teológica foram mais de uma vez contestados na igreja. Já durante as controvérsias monofisita e monotelita houve o partido dos gnosímacos, que tinham toda ciência por desnecessária ao cristão: Deus nada exige dele senão boas obras, e é melhor prosseguir no próprio propósito com ânimo simples e rude do que gastar muito cuidado em conhecer decretos e sentenças. No fim da Idade Média a aversão à teologia era geral — a escolástica perdera todo o crédito, e em todos os círculos e em todas as seitas havia um forte desejo de um cristianismo mais simples e prático —, e desde então a oposição à escolástica quase nunca se calou na igreja romana.

A Reforma adotou de início o mesmo ponto de vista. É conhecido o juízo de Lutero sobre Aristóteles, sobre a escolástica e sobre a razão; e Melanchthon escrevia na primeira edição de seus loci: conhecer a Cristo é conhecer os seus benefícios, não, como ensinam os escolásticos, contemplar as suas naturezas e os modos da encarnação. Muitos, porém, foram além dos reformadores e rejeitaram toda teologia: Carlstadt condenou todos os títulos acadêmicos e foi viver como camponês entre camponeses; anabatistas e menonitas nada queriam saber de formação científica para o ministério da palavra e concediam a todos os crentes o direito de "admoestar". E quando mais tarde o tratamento escolástico da teologia ganhou terreno nas igrejas protestantes, a reação veio de todos os lados — Calixto e Cocceius, Spener e Zinzendorf, Fox e Wesley —, movida toda ela pelo desejo de mais simplicidade e verdade na doutrina da fé: para isso era preciso voltar da doutrina à vida, da confissão à Escritura, da teologia à religião. Também o deísmo e o racionalismo eram aparentados a esse anseio; buscando o geral e o comum que estaria no fundamento de todas as religiões e confissões, apelavam da religião cristã para a religião de Cristo, da religião estatutária para a religião da razão. Pela direção agnóstica da filosofia, pela teologia do sentimento de Schleiermacher, pela crítica histórica da Escritura e por outras influências, esse anseio ainda cresceu. A aversão à dogmática é hoje geral. Muitos olham com saudade para uma palavra nova, um dogma novo, desejam uma religião sem teologia, uma vida sem doutrina, e aspiram a um cristianismo prático e não dogmático. Até certo ponto esse anseio encontrou sua defesa científica na escola de Ritschl, que veio com a exigência de que a teologia fosse inteiramente liberada da metafísica; Harnack, em sua história dos dogmas, e Hatch aplicaram o princípio à história do dogma e procuraram mostrar que a teologia é fruto do casamento inoportuno celebrado entre o cristianismo original e a filosofia grega. As acusações que todas essas direções levantam contra a teologia, e nomeadamente contra a dogmática, reduzem-se a isto: que ela falsifica a pureza e a simplicidade da religião cristã; que muda a religião numa doutrina que precisa ser provada e aceita intelectualmente; que mata a vida religiosa, promove uma ortodoxia fria e estéril e torna necessária a fides implicita; e, enfim, que põe a religião como doutrina em conflito com a ciência e aliena as classes cultas da fé cristã.

2. Ninguém negará que há seriedade e verdade nessas queixas contra a teologia. Ela passou muitas vezes do alvo e degenerou em vã repetição de palavras. Esqueceu com demasiada frequência que o nosso conhecer na terra é um conhecer em parte e um ver por enigma. Às vezes pareceu partir do pensamento de que podia responder a todas as perguntas possíveis e resolver todas as questões. Modéstia, delicadeza, simplicidade faltaram-lhe muitas vezes — e tanto pior, porque a teologia trata dos problemas mais profundos e toca nos movimentos mais finos do coração humano. Mais do que a qualquer outra ciência lhe convém a admoestação de não pensar de si mais alto do que convém pensar. Antes um honesto non liquet do que uma conjectura ousada.

Nem por isso a teologia está condenada em princípio. Pois, se a revelação consistisse apenas em comunicação de vida e a religião apenas em disposições do ânimo, não haveria lugar para uma teologia propriamente dita. Mas a revelação é um sistema de palavras e obras de Deus; contém um mundo de pensamentos; tem o seu centro na encarnação do Logos. E a religião não é sentimento e emoção somente, mas é também fé, vida consciente, um servir a Deus com o coração e a cabeça juntos. Por isso essa revelação de Deus pode ser pensada até o fim, para que melhor entre na consciência humana. Nem se pode levar a mal à teologia que se aplique à clareza no pensar, à distinção no distinguir, à precisão no dizer. Em todas as ciências se busca e se preza essa praecisitas; na teologia ela está igualmente em seu lugar. O perigo de degenerar em sutilezas e cabelos partidos em quatro existe do mesmo modo nas outras ciências, no direito e nas letras, e a ninguém ocorre por isso disputar-lhes o direito. Também a teologia tem seus períodos de florescimento e de decadência; mas não se pode condená-la a ela pelo abuso que dela se fez: abusus non tollit usum.

Além disso, já nos ficou claro antes que a separação entre a religião cristã de um lado e a metafísica do outro é tão pouco concebível com pureza quanto praticável. A história o provou repetidas vezes e o mostra ainda hoje. Pois, para tornar de algum modo possível tal separação, todas as direções mencionadas são obrigadas a formar para si uma representação unilateral e incompleta do evangelho de Cristo. Quase nunca voltam à Escritura inteira, mas sempre a uma parte dela: ao Novo Testamento apenas, ou aos evangelhos, ou ao sermão da montanha, ou mesmo a um único texto — Tolstoi encontra o núcleo do evangelho em Mt 5.38-39; Ritschl converte os dogmas em juízos religioso-éticos de valor. E muitos perguntam agora por que as igrejas cristãs não se contentaram com o sermão da montanha. O que seja a essência do cristianismo, em que consista a revelação ou a palavra de Deus, quem seja a pessoa de Cristo, não é decidido pelos apóstolos; cada um o determina para si segundo o próprio critério. A consequência é que todas essas direções têm de opor a Jesus e ao evangelho original não só a igreja, a confissão e a teologia, mas também os apóstolos. Harnack reconhece que também a doutrina apostólico-católica no Novo Testamento já não reproduz puramente o evangelho de Jesus: nela já se percebe a influência do judaísmo, do helenismo e da filosofia greco-romana da religião; já os apóstolos, sobretudo Paulo e João, falsificaram o evangelho. E se um fato como a ressurreição de Cristo, apesar de tudo, não pode ser removido do evangelho original, então se lhe retira o valor religioso.

Segue-se ainda dessa concepção que a história do dogma não pode fazer jus a si mesma: torna-se um grande desvio do espírito humano e cristão. A promessa do Espírito, que guiaria a toda a verdade, mostra-se vã. Tira-se da igreja até a possibilidade de conhecer a verdade, porque já os apóstolos a puseram em caminho errado. E a doutrina do logos, da trindade, do primeiro e do segundo Adão — todos os dogmas que deveriam provar a mistura da filosofia grega — encontra-se já na Escritura, se não verbalmente, ao menos materialmente. Numa palavra: a história dos dogmas passa a ser a história de sua crítica. Não foi a igreja que venceu o mundo; foi o mundo que venceu a igreja. Por fim, com essa concepção unilateral do evangelho original ameaça ainda o perigo de se perder a comunhão com a igreja de todos os séculos e, com ela, o vínculo com o próprio tempo. Esse foi o destino de todas as seitas: cortadas das igrejas e desprezando a teologia, perderam a influência sobre o seu século e o laço com a cultura. Congregação e mundo, igreja e escola, religião e ciência caem então dualisticamente separados. A teologia, ao contrário, tem a gloriosa vocação de manter as duas em conexão: de preservar, de um lado, a vida cristã de toda sorte de doenças espirituais do misticismo e do separatismo, e, de outro, de libertar o pensamento científico do erro e da mentira pela verdade de Cristo. O direito da teologia está fundado na essência da religião cristã. A revelação dirige-se ao homem inteiro e tem o mundo inteiro por objeto. Em todo terreno trava combate contra a mentira. Oferece matéria ao pensamento mais profundo e planta no terreno científico o conhecimento de Deus ao lado do conhecimento do homem e do mundo, e em conexão orgânica com ele.

3. Ainda que o dogma cristão não se explique pela filosofia grega, ele não surgiu sem ela. Na Escritura não há ainda dogma nem teologia em sentido próprio. Enquanto a própria revelação prosseguia, ela não podia tornar-se objeto de reflexão científica: a inspiração tinha de estar concluída antes que a reflexão viesse ao primeiro plano. Por isso o uso de falar em teologia mosaica, paulina, bíblica, não merece recomendação; e a própria palavra teologia não ocorre na Escritura, tendo adquirido só aos poucos o seu sentido atual. A teologia surgiu na congregação de Cristo quando passou a ingenuidade infantil e despertou a consciência pensante. Pouco a pouco nasceu a necessidade de pensar até o fim os pensamentos da revelação, de ligá-los ao restante do saber e de defendê-los contra todo tipo de ataque. Para isso era necessária a filosofia; com o auxílio dela surgiu a teologia científica.

Mas isso não aconteceu por acaso. A igreja não foi vítima de um engano. Os pais da igreja, na formação e no desenvolvimento dos dogmas, fizeram largo uso da filosofia; mas fizeram-no com plena consciência, com clara percepção dos perigos que isso trazia, com conta clara dos motivos por que o faziam e com reconhecimento explícito da palavra dos apóstolos como única regra de fé e de vida. Por isso também não se serviram da filosofia grega inteira: fizeram uma escolha, usaram apenas aquela filosofia que mais se prestava a pensar e a defender a verdade de Deus, procederam ecleticamente e não adotaram sistema filosófico algum, nem de Platão nem de Aristóteles, mas produziram com o auxílio da filosofia grega uma filosofia própria, uma filosofia cristã. E serviram-se dela apenas como auxiliar: assim como Agar estava a serviço de Sara, assim, no juízo dos pais, a filosofia estava subordinada à teologia. De tudo isso fala claramente que o uso da filosofia na teologia não repousava num erro, mas numa convicção firme e clara. Os pais sabiam o que faziam. Com isso não se exclui que em alguns pontos a influência da filosofia tenha sido forte demais para eles; mas então é preciso distinguir de imediato entre a teologia dos patres e os dogmas da igreja. A igreja em todos os tempos se guardou do abuso da filosofia: rejeitou o gnosticismo e condenou também o origenismo. E até hoje não se conseguiu explicar materialmente os dogmas a partir da filosofia; por mais vezes que se tenha tentado, no fim o caráter escriturístico da ortodoxia sempre se sustentou.

A Reforma assumiu de início atitude hostil à escolástica e à filosofia. Mas logo recuou disso; porque não era uma seita, nem queria sê-lo, não podia passar sem uma teologia. Lutero e Melanchthon voltaram já ao uso da filosofia e reconheceram a sua utilidade; Calvino desde o começo ocupou esse ponto de vista elevado e via na filosofia um praeclarum Dei donum, um dom insigne de Deus; e assim julgaram todos os teólogos reformados. A questão não é agora se a teologia deve servir-se de um determinado sistema filosófico. A teologia cristã nunca assumiu sem crítica um sistema filosófico nem o atestou como verdade; nem a filosofia de Platão nem a de Aristóteles foi tida por teólogo algum como a verdadeira. Se apesar disso se deu preferência a esses dois sistemas, foi porque eram os mais aptos a desenvolver e defender a verdade; e havia nisso também o pensamento de que gregos e romanos haviam recebido vocação e dom peculiares para a vida da cultura. De fato, toda a nossa civilização ainda hoje está construída sobre a da Grécia e a de Roma, e o cristianismo não destruiu isso, mas o cristianizou e assim o santificou. Mas uma filosofia determinada não é necessária à teologia. O de que ela precisa é da filosofia em geral, isto é: não se chega a teologia científica senão pelo pensamento. O verdadeiro principium cognoscendi internum da teologia não é, portanto, a fé como tal, mas o pensamento crente, a ratio christiana. A fé é consciente de si e certa. Repousa na revelação. Inclui um conhecer, mas esse conhecer é inteiramente de natureza prática, um "conhecer" no sentido da Sagrada Escritura. A teologia não brota, pois, dos crentes como tais; não é fruto da igreja como ecclesia instituta; não tem sua origem no ofício que Cristo conferiu à sua congregação. Mas os crentes têm ainda outra vida, mais rica do que a que vem à expressão na ecclesia instituta. Como cristãos vivem também na família, no Estado, na sociedade, e exercem ciência e arte. São-lhes concedidos muito mais dons do que os que operam pelo ofício: dons de conhecimento, de sabedoria, de profecia. Entre eles há também os que sentem em si um forte impulso à investigação e ao saber, que receberam dons para pensar até o fim a verdade de Deus e trazê-la a sistema. E assim a teologia nasce na igreja de Cristo; tem por sujeito não a igreja instituída, mas a igreja como organismo, como corpo de Cristo; é fruto do pensamento da cristandade.

4. Fé e teologia são, portanto, realmente distintas, e disso se teve consciência, mais ou menos, em todos os tempos. A antítese aguda que o gnosticismo estabeleceu entre fé e conhecimento foi rejeitada, e também a relação que a escola alexandrina supôs entre ambos não foi aprovada em todos os aspectos; mas a distinção foi expressamente mantida e ao mesmo tempo se firmou e reconheceu a íntima conexão das duas. Agostinho elevou a sentença per fidem ad intellectum a princípio da teologia; supunha entre as duas uma relação como entre a concepção e o nascimento, entre o trabalho e a recompensa: o entendimento é o fruto da fé. E exortava a que aquilo que já se possui pela firmeza da fé se contemple também à luz da razão, pois Deus não despreza a razão: longe esteja que Deus odeie em nós aquilo em que nos criou mais excelentes do que os demais viventes. E este foi o princípio e o pensamento fundamental de toda a escolástica. Fé e teologia distinguiam-se como habitus e actus, como theologia infusa e acquisita. A fé é assentimento às verdades reveladas, a teologia é conhecimento delas. A fé inclui, sim, algum conhecimento acerca de Deus e das coisas divinas, mas esse conhecimento diz respeito antes à existentia do que às rationes dessas verdades; o teólogo, porém, penetra até a ideia, rastreia a conexão das verdades e, pensando, deriva delas outras.

Que se tinha consciência da distinção entre religião e teologia mostra-o também a doutrina da fides implicita. Se a fé, segundo Roma, consistia em assentimento a verdades reveladas, cedo ou tarde tinha de surgir a pergunta: quais e quantas dessas verdades é preciso ao menos conhecer e aceitar para ser participante da salvação? A pergunta podia levantar-se a respeito dos pagãos, dos crentes do Antigo Testamento e também dos crentes ignorantes e rudes dos dias do Novo. Agostinho já dissera que não é a vivacidade em entender, mas a simplicidade em crer que torna segura a multidão; mas foi Lombardo quem primeiro pôs a questão claramente, e desde então ela foi tratada longamente, dando ocasião no século XVII, na França, a um sério conflito.

Habitualmente a doutrina é apresentada na teologia romana assim. A fides carbonaria é expressamente rejeitada: todos os teólogos romanos sustentam que à fé salvadora pertence algum conhecimento, por escasso que seja, e que jamais a fé pode ser inteiramente implícita. Mas esse conhecimento difere nas várias dispensações da graça. Nos dias do Antigo Testamento, de Adão até a queda de Jerusalém, quando os mistérios próprios do cristianismo, como a trindade e a encarnação, ainda não haviam sido promulgados, eram necessários necessitate medii apenas dois artigos: que Deus existe e que é galardoador (Hb 11.6). Com isso não se diz que muitos crentes do Antigo Testamento não tivessem conhecimento maior e mais profundo da verdade — Adão conheceu também a trindade e a encarnação —, mas os crentes simples podiam bastar-se com aqueles dois artigos, porquanto implicitamente criam também nos mistérios próprios do cristianismo: na existência e na unidade de Deus está implícita a trindade, e em que Ele é remunerador está implícita a encarnação. Outros, que não viam isso tão claramente, diziam que os crentes do Antigo Testamento tinham de aceitar quatro artigos, acrescentando aos dois a imortalidade da alma e a corrupção do pecado, nos quais estariam então implicitamente incluídos os dois dogmas capitais. Mas a apresentação mais usual era a dos dois artigos. Depois da queda de Jerusalém, porém, aquelas duas verdades principais do cristianismo foram claramente reveladas e tornadas conhecidas, e agora é necessitate medii necessário, a todo o que quer ser salvo, aceitar quatro artigos: que Deus é, que é galardoador, a santíssima trindade e o mediador. Outros ainda lhes acrescentam outros — Deus criador, a graça necessária à salvação, a imortalidade —, e alguns chegam a chamar necessária a aceitação dos doze artigos quanto à substância; mas os defensores dos quatro artigos exprimem a opinião mais comum. Toda essa doutrina é apoiada num apelo a Jó 1.14: os bois, isto é, os crentes desenvolvidos, lavravam, e as jumentas, isto é, os leigos simples, pastavam ao seu lado.

A questão que está por baixo da doutrina da fides implicita é bastante séria e importante: nela não vai menos do que a essência do próprio cristianismo, o significado de Israel, a possibilidade de um progresso da revelação junto com o caráter absoluto da verdade. Mas a concepção intelectualista da fé levou a resolver a questão de modo puramente quantitativo: a aceitação de quatro artigos de fé faz o cristão; e na prática a lenda da fides carbonaria provou conter verdade demais. De todo modo, a doutrina da fides implicita prova claramente que os teólogos romanos distinguem entre fé e teologia quanto ao conteúdo e à extensão.

5. Também a Reforma permaneceu consciente dessa diferença. Teólogos luteranos e reformados adotaram a distinção de habitus e actus da teologia, de theologia infusa e acquisita. A primeira é porção de todos os crentes: em princípio eles conhecem totam theologiam, têm o conhecimento verdadeiro e puro de Deus. Mas como acquisita ela é porção apenas dos que exercem cientificamente o conhecimento de Deus, pois então é uma notitia de conclusões colhidas dos princípios teológicos por raciocínio teológico, dispostas em certa ordem e impressas no ânimo por longo trabalho e exercício. É verdade que religio e theologia foram repetidamente trocadas uma pela outra, o que tanto mais facilmente podia ocorrer quanto teologia e dogmática eram aproximadamente o mesmo. Mas mesmo no auge da ortodoxia a distinção entre fé e teologia não pereceu de todo, como o prova a doutrina dos articuli fundamentales et non fundamentales.

A Reforma rejeitou decididamente a doutrina romana da fides implicita. Tinha de fazê-lo, porque não fazia consistir a fé salvadora em ter por verdadeiros alguns artigos não compreendidos, mas numa confiança pessoal na graça de Deus em Cristo. Mas em lugar disso veio logo a distinção entre artigos fundamentais e não fundamentais. Já Calvino dizia que não se deve separar da igreja por pontos menos essenciais: nem todos os capítulos da verdadeira doutrina são de uma só forma; há alguns tão necessários de conhecer que devem ser fixos e indubitáveis para todos, como próprios princípios da religião — que Deus é um, que Cristo é Deus e Filho de Deus, que a nossa salvação consiste na misericórdia divina —, e há outros que, controvertidos entre as igrejas, nem por isso rompem a unidade da fé. A justaposição usada na descrição da fé — de um conhecimento certo pelo qual tenho por verdadeiro tudo o que Deus revelou em sua palavra, e de uma confiança de que me são perdoados os pecados por amor de Cristo — podia dar ocasião a buscar o centro de gravidade ora na fides generalis, ora na fides specialis. O grande número de igrejas que sucessivamente saíram da Reforma, diferindo entre si em vários artigos, promoveu a distinção entre elementos essenciais e acidentais na revelação; e o sincretismo e o indiferentismo que aos poucos surgiram, recuando do particular para o comum, tornaram necessário indicar o que pertencia aos fundamentos da religião cristã. Assim nasceu a doutrina dos articuli fundamentales. A expressão parece ter sido usada primeiro por Nicolau Hunnius, em 1626; Quenstedt falava de articuli primarii et secundarii, e outros seguiram, tanto nas igrejas luteranas quanto nas reformadas. A ortodoxia não estava, naturalmente, inclinada a limitar os artigos fundamentais a um número pequeno; mas nota-se nela o esforço de concebê-los centralmente e de agrupá-los em torno da pessoa de Cristo.

Os católicos romanos, porém, rejeitaram essa distinção, por mais que ela ainda se parecesse com a fides implicita, e puseram os teólogos reformados e luteranos em não pequeno embaraço. Perguntavam onde Deus, em sua palavra, fizera distinção entre verdades essenciais e acidentais; donde se tirava o direito de separar na revelação divina o fundamental do não fundamental; quais verdades haviam então de contar-se entre as fundamentais; quem havia de determiná-lo; e como, em tal ponto de vista, se evitariam o racionalismo e o indiferentismo. Pois a fé, afirmavam eles, tem por objeto não só a misericórdia divina, mas tudo quanto Deus revelou — a ponto de os jesuítas, no colóquio religioso de Ratisbona de 1601, terem por artigo de fé que o cão de Tobias abanou a cauda. Contra todas essas objeções os teólogos protestantes apelaram, sim, para a Escritura e fizeram toda sorte de distinções; mas não esconderam de si as dificuldades, temiam errar por excesso e por defeito, e acabaram declarando que não podiam determinar o mínimo de conhecimento de que uma fé sincera tem de vir acompanhada. A ortodoxia desembocou de um lado no racionalismo e do outro no pietismo. Doutrina e vida foram-se apartando cada vez mais. Cabeça e coração disputaram a precedência. Teologia e religião vieram a pôr-se uma contra a outra. Ainda não superamos essa antítese: há anos se ouve o grito de que a religião não é doutrina, mas vida; de que não importa o que se crê, mas apenas como se vive. Aos poucos, porém, os olhos vão-se abrindo também para a unilateralidade dessa direção, e reconhece-se melhor o valor das representações religiosas para a vida religiosa.

6. Na investigação da relação entre fé e teologia, a pergunta precisa ser posta com pureza. Ela não reza: quais verdades alguém tem ao menos de conhecer e ter por verdadeiras para ser salvo. Deixe-se essa pergunta a Roma, e determine a teologia romana se para isso são necessários dois, quatro ou mais artigos. A teologia protestante, na doutrina dos articuli fundamentales, incorreu de fato na aparência de querer seguir tal caminho; mas terminou reconhecendo que não conhecia a grandeza da misericórdia de Deus e que por isso não podia determinar a medida de conhecimento própria de uma fé sincera. E, além disso, entre a doutrina da fides implicita e a dos articuli fundamentales há, com toda a aparente concordância, uma diferença importante. Em Roma aquela doutrina desenvolveu-se em vista dos leigos simples, as jumentas de Jó 1.14; na teologia da Reforma esta teve sua origem no fato de surgirem lado a lado igrejas diversas, com confissões diferentes em muitos pontos — foi, portanto, na verdade, uma investigação sobre a essência do cristianismo. Em Roma a fé é assentimento a toda sorte de verdades reveladas, que se podem somar artigo por artigo e que no correr do tempo aumentaram em número. Mas a Reforma concebeu a fé como fides specialis, com um objeto central determinado, a graça de Deus em Cristo; aqui já não era possível uma soma de artigos cujo conhecimento e assentimento fossem necessários à salvação. A fé é uma relação pessoal do homem com Cristo; é orgânica e deixou de lado a adição, a quantidade. Roma tinha, pois, de determinar um mínimo, sem o qual não pode haver salvação; na Reforma a fé é confiança na graça de Deus e por isso já não é suscetível de cálculo algum. Todo crente, tanto no Antigo como no Novo Testamento, possui em germe aquele mesmo conhecimento que na teologia é desenvolvido mais profunda e amplamente. Desse ponto de vista a relação entre fé e teologia também se põe em luz mais clara.

Antes de tudo, há entre as duas forte concordância. Têm em comum o princípio, a palavra de Deus; o objeto, o conhecimento de Deus; e o fim, a honra de Deus. Também a teologia, como ciência, está sobre o fundamento da fé. O lugar que nas outras ciências cabe à observação é aqui ocupado pela fé: a fé fornece à teologia a matéria para o pensamento. Na ciência mundana diz-se: sensus praecedit intellectum, nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu; na teologia o lema é: fides praecedit intellectum, nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in fide. Conceitos sem intuições são vazios, dizia Kant; e assim também a teologia não tem conteúdo senão a partir da fé e por meio dela. Tão logo largue a fé, ela mesma, como teologia, deixa de existir. E também pelo pensamento nunca se eleva acima desse ponto de vista da fé. Tentou-se isso de todas as maneiras, mas em vão. A fé é o começo e também o fim da teologia; esta nunca chega a um conhecer em sentido próprio, isto é, a um conhecer com fundamento na própria observação e na própria compreensão.

Nem por isso a teologia é privada de sua liberdade. A fé apenas põe e mantém aquela relação que neste domínio deve existir entre sujeito e objeto. Ela não coloca o teólogo fora, diante e acima da verdade que tem de investigar, mas debaixo e dentro dela. Não faz outra coisa senão ligar a teologia ao seu próprio objeto, não de modo diverso daquele em que toda outra ciência está e permanece ligada à observação e por ela se relaciona com o seu objeto. A teologia é tão livre e tão dependente quanto qualquer outra ciência: livre de todos os laços que contrariam a sua natureza, mas inteiramente determinada pelo objeto que procura conhecer — e isso tem em comum com todas as ciências. Quanto mais estritamente se liga ao seu objeto, tanto menor o perigo de degenerar em escolástica seca e retórica vazia. Pela fé a teologia permanece uma ciência da religião, uma teologia dos fatos, que pensa não sobre conceitos, mas sobre coisas, e que não se perde em abstrações vazias, mas está com os dois pés naquele mundo de realidades que a Escritura nos revela.

Do outro lado, porém, há entre fé e teologia diferença considerável. Antigamente ambas podiam facilmente ser trocadas uma pela outra, porque teologia e dogmática eram conceitos quase idênticos, junto com a ética. Mas a teologia tornou-se hoje o nome de todo um ciclo de disciplinas, e a distinção salta agora aos olhos de qualquer um: a teologia abrange hoje uma multidão de ciências que o crente simples não conhece nem de nome. Mas, ainda que se tome a teologia no sentido antigo, a distinção permanece grande. Em todo domínio há diferença entre o conhecer comum, cotidiano, empírico, e o conhecer próprio, superior, científico. Todo homem tem algum conhecimento empírico do sol, da lua e das estrelas, mas esse conhecimento difere como o céu da terra do conhecimento científico do astrônomo: aquele conhece apenas os facta, este as rationes. O homem de ciência não despreza o conhecer comum nem derruba a certeza natural; mas tem a vocação de esclarecer esse conhecer comum, de ampliá-lo e, se necessário, também de purificá-lo e melhorá-lo. Não é diferente na teologia. A fé fica nos fatos, a teologia procura penetrar até a ideia. A fé tem bastante com o que, a teologia pergunta pelo porquê e pelo como. A fé é sempre pessoal, põe sempre o objeto em relação com o próprio homem, tem interesse direto no conteúdo religioso dos dogmas; a teologia em certo sentido faz do objeto algo posto diante de si, procura ver a verdade tal como objetivamente existe em si mesma, rastreia a sua unidade e a sua conexão interna e busca chegar a um sistema. A fé dirige-se ao objeto central, a teologia estende a investigação a toda a circunferência do círculo. Mas, por diferentes que sejam, não podem passar uma sem a outra. A fé preserva a teologia da secularização; a teologia preserva a fé do separatismo. Por isso igreja e escola (seminário, faculdade de teologia) são de fato duas coisas, mas devem estar em estreita conexão. Nem por isso se subtrai nada à liberdade e à independência da teologia. Toda faculdade exerce a ciência não só por si mesma, mas também forma homens para diversas posições na sociedade; toda ciência tem, de fato, de contar com as exigências da vida. E assim também a teologia não está muito acima da vida real, mas no meio dela, na vida da congregação. A desproporção que hoje existe quase por toda parte entre igreja e teologia é uma desgraça para ambas.

7. Se a teologia tem, pois, o seu principium internum não na fé como tal, mas no pensamento crente, é preciso determinar mais de perto a tarefa da razão na ciência teológica. Então, antes de tudo, há de ser rejeitada em princípio aquela concepção que vê na fé e na razão dois poderes independentes que lutam entre si até a morte. Com isso se cria uma antítese que não pertence ao terreno cristão: a fé passa a ser sempre supra ou mesmo contra rationem, e de um lado ameaça o racionalismo, do outro o supranaturalismo. A fé, a fides qua creditur, não é um órgão ou uma faculdade ao lado e acima da razão, mas uma disposição, um hábito da própria razão. A razão, ou, se se prefere, o pensamento, certamente não é fonte da teologia, não é princípio pelo qual ou por causa do qual cremos; a razão não é fonte de ciência alguma, ou quando muito somente das ciências formais, a lógica e a matemática. Mas a razão é, ainda assim, o sujeito que recebe a fé, o que é capaz dela: a fé é um ato da consciência, da consciência humana; um animal não é capaz de crer. E, além disso, a fé não é coação, mas ato livre do homem. O cristão não crê por ordem, nem por medo, nem por violência. O crer tornou-se o habitus natural do seu entendimento — não, naturalmente, como se não houvesse a toda hora muita coisa em sua alma que resiste a esse crer, mas de modo que, embora fazendo muitas vezes o que não quer, ele tem prazer na lei de Deus segundo o homem interior. Crer é a respiração natural do filho de Deus; a sua submissão à palavra de Deus não é escravidão, mas liberdade. A fé, nesse sentido, não é sacrificium intellectus, mas sanitas mentis. Por isso a fé não dispensa o cristão da investigação e da reflexão; antes o incita a elas. A natureza não é destruída pela regeneração, mas restaurada.

Por isso o crente que quer dedicar-se à teologia tem de preparar de antemão o seu pensamento para a tarefa que o espera. Não há entrada no templo da teologia senão pela facultas artium: uma propedêutica filosófica, histórica e linguística é indispensável ao cultor da ciência teológica. O imperador Juliano sabia o que fazia quando tirou dos cristãos a ciência pagã: temia ser vencido com as próprias armas.

Esse pensamento, assim preparado e exercitado, tem então na teologia, no essencial, uma tríplice tarefa. Antes de tudo, presta o seu serviço na descoberta da matéria. A Escritura é o princípio da teologia; mas essa Escritura não é um código de leis, é um todo orgânico. A matéria da teologia, e nomeadamente da dogmática, jaz espalhada por toda a Escritura. Como o ouro da mina, assim a verdade da fé tem de ser extraída da Escritura com o esforço de toda a força espiritual. Com alguns loca probantia nada se consegue: não sobre alguns textos soltos, mas sobre a Escritura em sua totalidade é que o dogma deve ser edificado; ele tem de nascer organicamente dos principia que para ele estão presentes em toda parte na Escritura. A doutrina de Deus, do homem, do pecado, de Cristo não se encontra apenas em algumas sentenças, mas está espalhada por toda a Escritura, e está contida não só em alguns textos de prova, mas também em toda sorte de imagens e parábolas, cerimônias e histórias. Nenhuma parte da Escritura pode ser negligenciada: a Escritura inteira prova o sistema inteiro. Também na teologia o separatismo deve ser evitado. É característico de muitas seitas partirem de uma pequena porção da Escritura e no mais negligenciá-la inteiramente; o pior e mais difundido é a rejeição ou o descuido do Antigo Testamento — o marcionismo voltou repetidas vezes à igreja cristã e desempenha grande papel também na teologia mais recente. Todo esse uso arbitrário da Sagrada Escritura leva à unilateralidade e ao erro na teologia e à doença na vida religiosa. A imagem plena e rica da verdade não vem então à luz: a pessoa e a obra do Pai, ou do Filho, ou do Espírito Santo são mal entendidas; faz-se injustiça a Cristo em seu ofício profético, ou sacerdotal, ou real; a religião cristã perde o seu caráter católico; cabeça, coração e mão do cristão não são harmoniosamente formados e guiados pela verdade. Só a Escritura plena e inteira preserva de todas essas unilateralidades.

Em segundo lugar, o teólogo tem também de elaborar pelo pensamento a matéria assim obtida. Os dogmas não estão na Escritura totidem verbis, segundo a letra, mas segundo o sentido; são conclusiones fidei. A doutrina da trindade, das duas naturezas de Cristo, da satisfação, dos sacramentos não se apoia numa única sentença da Escritura, mas é construída a partir de muitos dados que jazem espalhados por toda ela. Os dogmas são o breve resumo, em nossa língua, de tudo o que a Escritura ensina sobre os respectivos assuntos. Por isso teólogos católicos romanos e protestantes defenderam, contra toda sorte de direções que queriam ficar nas expressões literais da Escritura, o direito da terminologia dogmática — e fizeram-no não porque quisessem ser menos, mas porque queriam ser mais e melhor escriturísticos do que elas. Justamente então, em seu pensamento, a Escritura chegava à sua plena honra: quando não se citava literalmente um único texto, mas se resumia e expunha no dogma a verdade inteira, contida em muitos textos. A teologia não é, portanto, apenas noética, mas também dianoética; não é ciência apreensiva, mas discursiva: reflete, compara, julga, resume, deriva outras verdades das já obtidas. Assim fizeram também Jesus e os apóstolos, e os pais da igreja, os escolásticos e os teólogos católicos e protestantes seguiram esse exemplo. Deus não nos chamou a repetir literalmente, mas a pensar até o fim o que Ele em sua revelação pensou para nós.

E, por fim, o pensamento tem na teologia ainda a tarefa de resumir toda a verdade em um sistema. Um sistema é o mais alto que se pode desejar na ciência. Também a teologia não descansa enquanto não tiver descoberto a unidade que jaz escondida na revelação. Ela não pode impor esse sistema de fora nem espremer a verdade dentro de um sistema filosófico estranho à sua essência; mas busca até que se reflita na consciência humana o sistema que está presente no próprio objeto. Em tudo isso a teologia procede como as outras ciências. Trabalha do mesmo modo. Como elas, está ligada ao seu objeto. No pensar está sujeita às leis que valem para esse pensar; também ela não pode pecar impunemente contra a lógica. Também para ela o mais alto é a unidade da verdade, o sistema do conhecimento de Deus. Por mais que a teologia difira das outras ciências em princípio, objeto e fim, formalmente concorda com elas e pode com razão reivindicar o nome de ciência. E porque a revelação não conflita com a razão humana per se, mas apenas per accidens, por causa da corrupção e da má disposição, por isso a teologia pode até, em certo sentido, ser chamada natural e racional. A religião cristã é um culto racional (Rm 12.1).

8. Mas, ainda que o conhecimento na teologia seja alcançável, ela não chega à compreensão. Entre saber, conhecer e compreender há grande distinção. Essas palavras são muitas vezes usadas de modo intercambiável, mas há entre elas uma diferença claramente demonstrável: o saber diz respeito à existência, ao que uma coisa é; o conhecer, à qualidade, ao quê; o compreender, à possibilidade interna, ao como de uma coisa. Compreendemos muito pouco — na verdade, só aquilo que está inteiramente em nosso poder, que podemos fazer e desfazer. Compreendo uma máquina quando vejo como está montada e como funciona, quando nada de admirável resta nela. A compreensão exclui o espanto e a admiração. Muitas vezes a compreensão cessa à medida que se investiga mais fundo: o que parecia evidente por si mesmo revela-se inteiramente insólito e admirável. Quanto mais uma ciência penetra em seu objeto, tanto mais se aproxima do mistério; e ainda que não encontrasse nenhum outro em seu caminho, no fim esbarraria sempre no mistério do ser. Onde, porém, cessa a compreensão, resta ainda lugar para o conhecer e para o admirar. Assim é também na teologia. Na revelação foi-nos aberto o mistério da piedade, o mistério da graça de Deus: nós o vemos, ele nos confronta como realidade na história e na própria vida, mas não o sondamos. Nesse sentido a teologia cristã tem sempre que ver com mistérios, que ela pode conhecer e admirar, mas não compreender e sondar.

Muitas vezes, porém, o mistério foi entendido na teologia cristã num sentido inteiramente diverso. A palavra mistério, do verbo grego que significa fechar, cerrar — os olhos, os lábios, as feridas —, é no grego comum o nome da doutrina secreta religioso-política que em algumas sociedades, como as de Elêusis, se comunicava apenas aos iniciados e se mantinha oculta de todos os demais. No Novo Testamento a palavra tem sempre significado religioso e denota uma coisa do reino de Deus que está escondida, ou pela forma obscura e enigmática em que é apresentada, ou também por seu conteúdo. Especialmente assim se chama o decreto universal do conselho de Deus acerca da redenção em Cristo, abrangendo também os gentios, bem como o modo em que ele é executado. Mas esse mysterium é assim chamado não porque agora ainda esteja escondido, mas porque antes era desconhecido: agora foi justamente manifestado pelo evangelho de Cristo, é proclamado pelos apóstolos como dispensadores dos mistérios de Deus, e daqui por diante vem cada vez mais à luz na história. O mistério do Novo Testamento não denota, pois, uma verdade de fé não compreendida e incompreensível ao intelecto pensante, mas uma coisa que primeiro esteve escondida em Deus, depois foi dada a conhecer no evangelho e agora é entendida pelos crentes.

Mas o uso eclesiástico logo entendeu por ela uma coisa incompreensível, que ultrapassa de longe o entendimento do crente — a encarnação, a unio mystica, os sacramentos, e mais tarde todos os articuli puri que não podiam ser provados pela razão. Mesmo assim permanecia grande diferença entre o uso pagão e o cristão: lá se tratava de uma doutrina secreta que devia ser mantida oculta dos não iniciados, ao passo que na igreja cristã nunca existiu propriamente uma disciplina arcana, ainda que se observasse certa ordem na comunicação da verdade. Mas os dogmas eram, apesar disso, verdades de fé não compreendidas e incompreensíveis, não contra, é certo, mas altamente supra rationem. Nas condenações de Erígena, de Raimundo Lúlio, de Hermes, de Günther e de Frohschammer, Roma exprimiu a sua reprovação de toda tentativa de provar pela razão os mistérios da fé. E o Concílio Vaticano declarou que os mistérios divinos excedem por sua própria natureza o intelecto criado de tal modo que, ainda quando transmitidos pela revelação e recebidos pela fé, permanecem cobertos pelo véu da própria fé e como que envoltos em certa escuridão, enquanto peregrinamos nesta vida mortal longe do Senhor: pois andamos por fé, e não por vista.

A Reforma reconheceu, sim, o caráter supranatural da revelação, mas de fato introduziu aqui uma grande mudança. Para Roma os mistérios são incompreensíveis em primeiro lugar por pertencerem a outra ordem, superior, sobrenatural, que ultrapassa de longe o entendimento do homem como tal; ela tem, portanto, de pôr toda a ênfase na incompreensibilidade dos mistérios, e protegê-la e mantê-la. O incompreensível parece ser em si mesmo uma prova da verdade: é crível porque é inepto, é certo porque é impossível, dizia Tertuliano. Mas a Reforma substituiu essa oposição entre ordem natural e sobrenatural pela oposição entre pecado e graça. Buscou a essência do mistério não em que ele fosse incompreensível ao homem em si, mas em que o é ao entendimento do homem psíquico. Sem dúvida essa visão concorda muito mais com o uso do Novo Testamento, onde em parte alguma o abstratamente sobrenatural e o cientificamente incompreensível do mistério estão em primeiro plano. Mas, enquanto é loucura aos olhos do homem natural, por sábio que seja, o mistério é revelado aos crentes, que nele veem sabedoria e graça divinas. Naturalmente a Escritura não pretende com isso dar a entender que o crente entende e compreende esses mistérios em sentido científico, pois andamos por fé, conhecemos em parte e vemos por espelho, em enigma. Mas o crente, ainda assim, conhece esses mistérios; eles já não lhe são loucura nem escândalo; ele admira neles a sabedoria e o amor de Deus. Por isso não lhe ocorre que eles ultrapassem a sua razão, que sejam supra rationem; ele não os sente como um fardo pesado, mas como uma libertação para o seu pensamento. A sua fé passa a admiração, o seu conhecimento termina em adoração, e a sua confissão desemboca em cântico de louvor e ação de graças. Dessa natureza é também o conhecimento de Deus a que a teologia visa. Não é um saber apenas, e muito menos um compreender; mas é melhor e mais glorioso: é um conhecimento que é vida, vida eterna (Jo 17.3).

Prefácio

Em breve palavra se pode pôr à luz o ponto de vista desta dogmática. Não só o crente, também o dogmático tem confissão a fazer da comunhão dos santos. Somente com todos os santos pode ele compreender qual seja a largura, o comprimento, a profundidade e a altura, e confessar o amor de Cristo, que excede todo conhecimento. Somente na comunhão deles e por ela aprende a entender o dogma em que a fé cristã se exprime. E nessa comunhão dos santos há ainda uma força que fortalece e uma consolação excelente. A dogmática não está hoje em honra; o dogma cristão não participa do favor do tempo. Daí, na palavra de Groen van Prinsterer, por vezes um sentimento de abandono, de isolamento. Mas tanto mais isso dispõe à gratidão de poder apelar para a aliança dos antepassados. Por essas razões deu-se aqui à teologia patrística e escolástica mais atenção do que costumam dar os dogmáticos protestantes. Homens como Irineu, Agostinho e Tomás não pertencem exclusivamente a Roma: são patres e doctores a quem toda a igreja cristã tem obrigações. Tampouco se esqueceu a teologia romana posterior à Reforma, pois entre os protestantes há muitas vezes pouca familiaridade tanto com o que têm em comum com Roma quanto com o que deles a separa; e o renascimento da teologia romana sob os auspícios de Tomás torna duplamente necessário que o cristão protestante dê a si mesmo conta clara de sua relação com Roma.

Contudo, esta dogmática filia-se mais de perto ao tipo que a religião e a teologia cristãs receberam no século XVI pela Reforma, e especialmente na Suíça. Não porque seja o único verdadeiro, mas porque, na convicção do autor, é a expressão relativamente mais pura da verdade. Em nenhuma confissão o elemento cristão, em seu caráter religioso, ético e teológico, veio tanto a si mesmo; em nenhuma foi concebido tão profunda e amplamente, tão espaçosa e livremente, tão verdadeiramente católico, como na das igrejas reformadas. Tanto mais é de lamentar que essa reforma da religião e da teologia tenha sido tão cedo detida: apesar de muito bem que o desenvolvimento posterior mostra, cedo se instalou a estagnação e seguiu-se a deformação. Apelando de preferência para a geração mais antiga, que em frescor e originalidade supera de longe a posterior, o autor tem por direito do dogmático distinguir, na história da teologia reformada, entre o trigo e a palha. Louvar o antigo só por ser antigo não é reformado nem cristão. E a dogmática não descreve o que valeu, mas o que deve valer: está enraizada no passado, mas trabalha para o futuro.

Por isso, enfim, esta dogmática quer também trazer o cunho de seu tempo. Seria obra jamais começada desprender-se do presente; e tampouco seria bom para com Deus, que nesta era nos fala não menos alto e sério do que às gerações anteriores. Atendeu-se às múltiplas direções que se cruzam no campo teológico; em meio a todas, buscou-se um lugar e escolheu-se uma posição. Onde desviar era dever, disso se prestou contas; mas mesmo então se procurou dar valor ao bom, onde ele se encontrasse.

Sobre esse fundamento, esta dogmática quer ser um manual para os que se dedicam ao seu estudo. Mesmo onde não puder obter assentimento, que estimule ao estudo. Com essa vista, as questões e as diferentes soluções tentadas foram apresentadas tão objetivamente quanto possível, e a literatura foi indicada na medida em que permita a quem a consulte orientar-se logo e cooperar na solução.

Esta primeira parte trata da introdução e dos principia; a segunda tratará do dogma.

H. Bavinck

Kampen, abril de 1895.

§ 1. Nome e conceito da dogmática

1. O nome dogmática é ainda de data recente; antes usavam-se nomes bem diversos. Orígenes intitulou sua obra dogmática principal Sobre os princípios; Agostinho descreveu seu Enquirídio a Lourenço pelo acréscimo "ou sobre a fé, a esperança e a caridade"; João Damasceno deu uma "exposição exata da fé ortodoxa"; com Isidoro de Sevilha surge o nome Sententiæ, que no século XIII cede lugar a Summa theologiæ; Melanchthon falou de Loci communes rerum theologicarum.

A expressão loci é tomada de Cícero e traduz o grego topos: os lugares onde o orador podia achar os argumentos de que precisava. Loci communes são, segundo Cícero, aquelas proposições que não se referem a nenhum objeto determinado, são gerais e por isso valem sempre e em toda parte, à diferença dos loci proprii, que são concretos e só valem de um sujeito determinado ou dentro de uma ciência especial. Melanchthon quis dar em seus loci communes apenas os capítulos principais da religião cristã, tais como Paulo sobretudo os tratara na epístola aos Romanos. Nome e conteúdo de sua dogmática estão, pois, em contraste com as Sententiae e Summae escolásticas: ela não pretendia dar aos instruídos um sistema dogmático completo, mas introduzir os não instruídos no conhecimento da Sagrada Escritura.

Explica-se daí que o nome loci communes não encontrasse aceitação entre os teólogos romanos. Usam eles a expressão loci, mas no sentido de Cícero ou de Aristóteles: não os articuli fidei, e sim os principia ou fontes da teologia — a célebre obra de Melchior Cano, Loci Theologici, não trata da dogmática mesma, mas de suas dez fontes. Entre os teólogos luteranos e reformados o nome de Melanchthon foi adotado, mas cedo teve de ceder a outro: Calvino preferiu o de Institutio religionis Christianae, e teólogos posteriores voltaram ao antigo nome de theologia. Em distinção das demais disciplinas teológicas, que aos poucos cresciam em número e em peso, esse nome teve de ser especificado: serviram para isso os acréscimos didactica, systematica, theoretica, positiva e, por fim, dogmatica. Tal especificação estava à mão, porque as verdades da fé havia muito eram designadas pelo nome de dogmata, e porque a separação entre dogmática e ética, iniciada com Danaeus e Calixto, exigia um nome próprio para cada disciplina. Desde então esse acréscimo obteve tamanho domínio que baniu o conceito principal de teologia e apareceu por si só, encontrou assentimento entre teólogos de toda confissão e não pôde ser deslocado pelos nomes mais novos de doutrina da fé, doutrina da salvação, doutrina cristã.

2. A palavra dogma, de dokein, parecer, denota aquilo que é determinado, decidido e por isso está firme: o que foi estabelecido, statutum, decretum, placitum. Na Escritura é usada dos mandatos do governo, das ordenanças da antiga aliança e das decisões da assembleia de Jerusalém; entre os clássicos tem o sentido de decisão ou ordem, e na filosofia o de verdades que estão firmes por si mesmas ou por provas. Nesses mesmos sentidos a palavra foi assumida pela teologia: os pais da igreja falam da doutrina cristã como "o dogma divino", das verdades que na igreja e para a igreja valem como "os dogmas da igreja", e igualmente dos ensinos dos heréticos como "dogmas dos heterodoxos".

3. O uso da palavra ensina, em primeiro lugar, que com o nome de dogma se podem designar toda sorte de mandatos, decisões, verdades filosóficas, proposições teóricas, regras práticas; mas o que todos têm em comum é que na base deles sempre está uma certa autoridade. Um dogma é, na definição de Harnack, uma proposição que tem autoridade. Na palavra dogma, porém, não está dito em que autoridade ela repousa; com dogmas diversos, diversa é também a autoridade: nos dogmas políticos, o governo; nos filosóficos, a evidência interna ou a força das provas; nos religiosos ou teológicos, ela está unicamente no testemunho de Deus — ouvido, segundo os protestantes, só na Escritura, e, segundo os católicos romanos, também na igreja. Uma proposição tem autoridade na igreja e na teologia só por isto: porque repousa no testemunho de Deus. Por isso, erradamente, com Schleiermacher e depois dele, busca-se a essência e o caráter do dogma na fixação e proclamação eclesiásticas. Do ponto de vista romano ainda haveria algo a dizer em favor disso, porque a igreja é infalível; mas a Reforma não reconhece verdade alguma senão pela autoridade de Deus na Sagrada Escritura: a Palavra de Deus estabelece os artigos de fé, e ninguém mais, nem mesmo um anjo. Dogmas e articuli fidei são somente aquelas verdades que nas Escrituras são propostas propriamente como devendo ser cridas. E por isso volta repetidamente entre os teólogos reformados a proposição: o princípio em que se resolvem todos os dogmas teológicos é Dominus dixit, o Senhor disse.

Mas do caráter de autoridade que é próprio ao dogma segue-se por si, em segundo lugar, que ele é também reconhecido como tal em certo círculo. Há sem dúvida no conceito de dogma um elemento social. Por mais firme que uma verdade esteja, se não é reconhecida, aos olhos dos outros não é mais que uma sententia doctoris, uma opinião privada. Cumpre por isso distinguir entre o dogma quoad se e o dogma quoad nos. Uma proposição é dogma em si mesma, abstraída de todo reconhecimento, se repousa na autoridade de Deus; mas, para não identificar a própria opinião com a verdade de Deus, é da máxima importância para todo crente, e em especial para o dogmático, saber quais verdades da Escritura foram, sob a direção do Espírito Santo, levadas na igreja de Cristo ao reconhecimento geral. A confissão pode assim chamar-se o dogma quoad nos. Também nesse sentido subjetivo, porém, o dogma não se limita ao que está eclesiasticamente fixado. A igreja tem uma vida e uma fé muito mais ricas do que as que vêm à expressão na confissão; esta não pertence à essência da igreja, é acidental, quase sempre nasceu de circunstâncias especiais e em regra recolhe apenas o que encontrou oposição dentro ou fora dela. Uma proposição não é dogma porque a igreja a reconhece, ainda que o reconhecimento da igreja seja prova importante — mas sempre falível — de sua verdade.

Em terceiro lugar, o uso da palavra ensina que ela foi tomada ora em sentido mais amplo, ora mais estrito. Polano diz que dogma, em sentido amplo, abrange tudo o que a Sagrada Escritura contém, não só a doctrina evangelii et legis, mas também as pregações e as histórias sagradas. Comumente, porém, a palavra era usada em sentido mais estrito, da doctrina evangelii et legis, daquelas sentenças que é necessário crer ou obedecer por mandamento de Deus; incluía, pois, não só a verdade doutrinal, mas também a ética. Mais tarde foi delimitada ainda mais estreitamente, distinguindo-se e separando-se a doctrina legis da doctrina evangelii: dogmas eram agora só aquelas sentenças que é necessário crer por mandamento de Deus. Assim dogma tornou-se a designação dos articuli fidei, que repousam na autoridade da Palavra de Deus e por isso obrigam a todos à fé. E a dogmática é então o sistema dos articuli fidei.

4. Com isso, contudo, o conceito de dogmática só foi estabelecido em sentido formal. A definição da dogmática como ciência dos dogmas é de pouca serventia enquanto não soubermos o material, o conteúdo dos dogmas. Para determinar o conceito material da dogmática, é preciso lembrar que dogmática foi originalmente um adjetivo que qualificava o conceito principal, teologia. Por isso, em tempos anteriores, concebia-se comumente a dogmática como doctrina de Deo principaliter et de creaturis, secundum quod referuntur ad Deum ut ad principium vel finem — doutrina de Deus principalmente, e das criaturas enquanto se referem a Deus como a seu princípio ou fim.

Outros, porém, tinham objeções a fazer de Deus o conceito principal da dogmática e preferiram chamar de outro modo o seu objeto: nomearam Cristo e seu corpo místico, a igreja, ou as opera reparationis, como matéria e conteúdo da teologia. Calovius contesta com toda força que Deus seja o objeto próprio da teologia: aqui aspiramos ao conhecimento de Deus, mas não o alcançamos; o objeto próprio da teologia é o homo in quantum est perducendus ad salutem, o homem enquanto deve ser conduzido à salvação, ou então a religião. E assim também outros fazem conteúdo da dogmática o Deo vivere per Christum, a religio, o cultus Dei.

A concepção subjetiva e prática da teologia foi assim ganhando terreno. E quando a filosofia de Kant limitou a capacidade humana de conhecer às coisas visíveis, quando o agnosticismo pronunciou a incognoscibilidade de Deus e a crítica histórica minou a revelação sobrenatural, essa concepção tornou-se a dominante. Schleiermacher concebeu a dogmática como doutrina da fé e definiu os dogmas como apreensões de estados piedosos do ânimo. Desde então quase todos os teólogos fizeram a mesma passagem: não Deus, mas a religião é o objeto da teologia — a religião em geral, como fenômeno histórico e psicológico, ou mais precisamente a religião cristã, tal como vem à manifestação na Escritura e na comunidade.

5. Já em seu tempo Tomás observava, contra os que davam outra descrição da teologia, que chegavam a isso por atentarem para as coisas que nessa ciência são tratadas e não para a razão sob a qual são consideradas. Na teologia, e portanto também na dogmática, trata-se de muito mais que apenas Deus: também do anjo e do homem, do céu e da terra; todas as criaturas entram aí em discussão. Mas todas essas coisas são tratadas também em outras ciências; o caráter distintivo de seu tratamento na teologia consiste em serem consideradas em sua relação com Deus, ut ad principium et finem.

Também a definição da dogmática como ciência da religio christiana não seria em si tão errada, se por ela se entendesse, como em tempo anterior, aquela religião objetivamente depositada na Escritura. Mas depois de Kant e Schleiermacher a dogmática tornou-se a descrição daquele fenômeno histórico que se chama religião cristã. Entendida nesse sentido, ela deixa de ser dogmática e passa a ser simplesmente descrição do que em certo círculo se tem por verdade no domínio religioso. Ora, a ciência tem que ver com a verdade; se a dogmática quer realmente ser ciência, não se contenta com a descrição do que é, mas deve indicar o que há de valer como verdade. Não o que, mas o porquê; não a realidade, mas a verdade; não o real, mas o ideal, o lógico, o necessário é o que lhe cumpre demonstrar. Mas, tão logo o tenta, ela volta no mesmo instante a Deus e torna-se de novo teologia no sentido próprio. Pois quem faz do cristianismo o objeto de uma ciência própria não parte do fato da existência desse cristianismo, mas de uma valoração especial desse fato: pressupõe que naqueles fatos históricos Deus se revelou de modo especial, e pressupõe e exige, portanto, a existência e a revelação de Deus. Isto é: a teologia exige, para ser e continuar teologia, que tudo nela seja considerado sub ratione Dei. E se contra isso se alega a incognoscibilidade de Deus, vale a regra: quem prova demais nada prova. Se Deus não é cognoscível, com isso não caem apenas a dogmática e a teologia, mas também a religião, pois esta é edificada sobre o conhecimento de Deus.

A dogmática é, pois, o sistema científico do conhecimento de Deus, isto é, daquele conhecimento que Ele, acerca de si mesmo e acerca de toda a criatura enquanto em relação a Ele, revelou em sua Palavra à igreja.

§ 2. Lugar enciclopédico da dogmática

1. Sobre o lugar da dogmática na enciclopédia da teologia quase não há divergência. Todos a atribuem à teologia sistemática ou dogmática, isto é, àquele grupo de disciplinas que se ocupam do dogma e ao qual pertencem, além da dogmática, também a ética, a simbólica, a história dos dogmas e a elêntica. Só Schleiermacher a incluiu na teologia histórica, por ser ela a ciência da conexão da doutrina que vigora na igreja em dado tempo, dando assim uma estatística do presente. Chegou a essa opinião singular porque desejava separar a dogmática o mais estritamente possível da apologética: enquanto esta tem de mostrar o que é a verdade cristã, aquela tem apenas de descrever o que vale como verdade nesta ou naquela igreja cristã.

Mas a comunidade cristã não pode contentar-se com um relatório objetivo do conteúdo de sua fé, e exige que essa fé seja também desdobrada e exposta como verdade. Tampouco o dogmático se coloca neutro fora e diante da fé da comunidade: ele pertence a essa comunidade e descreve, portanto, o que para ele vale e deve valer como verdade. Se Schleiermacher, ao chamar a dogmática de disciplina histórica, não quis dizer outra coisa senão que ela é uma ciência tética, positiva, que não busca o seu objeto, mas o encontra e o descreve, então sua intenção é de apreciar, mas a designação é incorreta. Se, porém, alimentava a opinião de que a dogmática tinha somente de descrever um dado histórico e não erguia pretensão alguma à verdade normativa, então sua concepção foi com toda a certeza incorreta e hoje é também geralmente rejeitada.

2. Pertencendo assim a dogmática às disciplinas da teologia dogmática, cumpre distingui-la bem de suas irmãs. Todas têm que ver com o dogma, isto é, com a verdade tal como Deus a revelou, mas cada uma a seu modo. Ela pode ser escutada tal como a comunidade a confessa em sua confissão, e então surge a theologia symbolica. Pode ser apresentada em forma simples e compreensível aos membros jovens, e então fala a theologia catechetica. Pode ser mantida em sua verdade e em seu direito contra os adversários, e então cumpre sua tarefa a theologia elenctica. E pode ser exposta tética e positivamente, mas em forma científica e sistemática, para a consciência desenvolvida, e então se pratica a dogmática. Todas têm em comum que expõem os thesauri Sacrae Scripturae, cada uma a seu modo; a dogmática o faz, como se dizia outrora, de maneira escolástica, ao modo das escolas, isto é, como deve suceder nas escolas da ciência.

Naturalmente muita coisa depende aqui do ponto de vista que o dogmático assume. Se ele, com os pietistas e os theologi biblici, supõe uma antítese aguda entre a doutrina da Escritura e a da igreja, aterá-se o mais estreitamente possível à Escritura e elaborará o mínimo possível pelo pensamento o material achado. Se vê na confissão da igreja, na historia dogmatum, não uma corrupção, mas um desenvolvimento da verdade escriturística, sua dogmática terá coloração eclesiástica e confessional. E se se põe racionalisticamente diante tanto da Escritura como da igreja, as convicções de fé que apresenta trarão sobretudo caráter negativo. Tudo isso é diferença de método.

Mas precisamente por isso não é bom distinguir, com Doedes, uma tríplice dogmática — a neotestamentária ou cristã, a eclesiástica e a crítica. Com isso concede-se igual categoria e igual direito de existência às três, a confusão ainda aumenta, e só a dogmática crítica se torna a da concepção própria e independente. A tarefa da dogmática é antes sempre uma e a mesma. Ela é, e por sua natureza não pode ser outra coisa senão, uma exposição científica da verdade religiosa, uma enarratio verbi Dei, uma exibição dos thesauri Sacrae Scripturae, uma entrega ao modelo de doutrina (Rm 6,17), de sorte que temos nela uma forma e uma imago da doctrina coelestis. A dogmática, portanto, não é ela mesma a Palavra de Deus; é sempre apenas uma imagem esmaecida e uma semelhança fraca dela; é uma tentativa humana e falível de pensar e dizer depois, ao modo próprio e livre, aquilo que Deus outrora, muitas vezes e de muitos modos, falou pelos profetas e nestes últimos dias nos falou pelo Filho.

3. Com a dogmática aparenta-se muito de perto a ética. A palavra dogma abrangia outrora ambas: os articuli fidei e os praecepta decalogi, os dogmata fidei e os dogmata morum. A ética ou era incorporada à dogmática, como em Lombardo, Tomás e Calvino, ou era elaborada em uma segunda parte depois da dogmática, ou ainda tratada de modo inteiramente independente, separada da dogmática, como desde Danaeus. E a separação que assim sobreveio teve por consequência que a ética ficou sem princípio próprio, foi buscá-lo a destempo na filosofia, veio a colocar-se, como ética teológica degenerada, hostil diante da dogmática, deslocou-a de seu lugar e por fim apagou de todo as fronteiras entre uma e outra.

Prova disso são as tentativas infrutíferas de distinguir as duas. Schleiermacher deu a ambas por conteúdo a vida cristã, mas a dogmática descreveria essa vida em relativo repouso, e a ética em relativo movimento. Rothe viu a insuficiência dessa distinção e por isso fez da dogmática uma disciplina histórica, que trata dos dogmas da igreja, e da ética uma ciência especulativa, que desenvolve dialeticamente o seu material a partir da consciência de Deus. Todas essas distinções padecem do defeito de procurar uma diferença de princípio entre dogmática e ética. E não há nenhuma. A ética teológica, bem distinta da ética filosófica, não tem princípio próprio, mas radica-se toda e inteiramente na dogmática. As linhas de separação apontadas criam um dualismo entre Deus e o homem, indivíduo e comunidade, salvação e vida, repouso e movimento, entendimento e vontade, e abrem à ética o caminho de ir buscar um princípio próprio por via filosófica especulativa, como em Rothe, perdendo seu caráter teológico e olhando de sua altura especulativa com desprezo para a dogmática histórica e positiva.

Se dogmática e ética devem ser tratadas separadamente — o que por diversas razões é desejável, embora muitos o desaconselhem —, a distinção entre ambas só pode estar nisto: que o homem, ainda que a todo tempo absolutamente dependente de Deus, é contudo também um ser livre e que age de modo independente. Renascido e renovado pela graça do Espírito Santo, o homem pecador recebe de novo desejo e força para viver segundo os mandamentos de Deus. Na dogmática o homem é passivo, recebe e crê; na ética ele mesmo aparece agindo. Ali tratam-se os articuli fidei, aqui os praecepta decalogi. A dogmática é o sistema do conhecimento de Deus; a ética, o do serviço de Deus. As duas ciências não são independentes uma diante da outra, mas formam juntas um só sistema, membros correspondentes de um só organismo.

§ 3. Método da dogmática

1. Por método da dogmática entende-se, em sentido amplo, a maneira como a matéria dogmática é obtida e tratada. Três coisas entram aqui em consideração: a Escritura, a confissão da igreja e a fé pessoal do dogmático. Conforme essas três sejam negligenciadas ou usadas, e conforme a relação em que são postas entre si, diferem o ponto de partida e, portanto, o caminho e o resultado da dogmática. De fato, sempre se passa assim, que todo cristão, e também o dogmático, recebe suas convicções de fé do círculo em que nasceu e foi criado. Pela pregação a igreja é fundada e transplantada de geração em geração: a fé vem pelo ouvir. A tradição, declarada infalível por Roma, tampouco foi de todo rejeitada pela Reforma, e logo depois tornou-se um poder que pôs em grilhões toda liberdade: recebia-se a matéria dogmática das mãos da igreja e da escola, pois a matéria própria da teologia — dizem Alsted e Alting — são os loci communes, e a matéria remota é a Sagrada Escritura. Quase ninguém nega hoje a determinação confessional da religião e da dogmática; até os teólogos modernos, no tratamento da doutrina da fé, costumam ligar-se ao dogma eclesiástico.

2. Mas a igreja com sua confissão não pode, ainda assim, ser o principium da dogmática. A igreja grega e a romana declararam a tradição infalível, mas em todos os tempos igrejas, seitas e tendências, a quem não se podia negar o caráter cristão, apelaram, contra essa tradição, para a Sagrada Escritura. Na theologia biblica chegou-se mesmo a tentar alcançar, sem o auxílio de igreja e confissão, uma doutrina da fé a partir da Escritura somente: sua intenção declarada era compor a teologia cristã só das palavras da Escritura, purgada de todas as coisas e palavras escolásticas. Ainda neste século essa tendência bíblica é defendida por Ritschl e sua escola, que, da dogmática corrompida pela filosofia grega, retorna à revelação de Deus na pessoa de Cristo.

3. Mas nem por isso está removida a possibilidade de conflito entre a doutrina da Escritura e a convicção pessoal do dogmático. Enquanto a verdade lhe está objetivamente fixada na Escritura ou na doutrina da igreja, parece que não se pode fazer justiça à sua personalidade: a dogmática permanece então exposição da doutrina da Escritura ou da igreja, mas talvez sem assentimento pessoal de quem a expõe. Isso, porém, não é dogmática. Pois esta não consiste num relato histórico, mas expõe o que deve valer como verdade, e assim inclui a convicção pessoal do dogmático. Desde que para muitos caiu inteiramente a autoridade em matéria de religião e a religio subjectiva se fez independente da religio objectiva, a consciência religiosa, a consciência moral, o sentimento, a razão — como quer que se lhe chame — tornou-se fonte e medida das representações religiosas. Toda a teologia, por Schleiermacher e depois dele, tanto entre os ortodoxos quanto entre os modernos, é teologia da consciência: os modernos podem ainda partir, no tratamento dos dogmas, da formulação eclesiástica, mas ao cabo não dão outra coisa senão sua fé pessoal. Desse caráter pessoal da dogmática explica Doedes a confusão sem limites que reina em seu domínio.

4. Já este panorama das três direções dogmáticas torna claro que nenhuma das três pode passar sem as outras: cada uma, tomada por si, é unilateral e cai em erro. A direção crítica, que rejeita confissão e Escritura como fonte de conhecimento e quer derivar do sujeito toda verdade religiosa, está desde logo em conflito com a experiência. Também religiosamente somos produtos do nosso meio: recebemos nossas representações e impressões religiosas de quem nos cria e educa, e permanecemos sempre presos ao círculo em que vivemos. Uma boa psicologia mostra que intelecto e coração, razão e consciência, sentimento e imaginação não podem, em terreno nenhum, valer como fonte de conhecimento da verdade. Todo o nosso conhecimento vem de fora; não há ideae innatae. O sentimento, em particular, não pode ser tido por fonte de conhecimento, pois nunca é um prius, e sim sempre um posterius: reage apenas ao que o afeta e dá então uma sensação de agrado ou desagrado. A explicação autônoma do homem religioso e moral anda sempre junta com o deísmo ou com o panteísmo: o deísmo torna o homem independente de Deus e do mundo, ensina a autossuficiência de sua razão e leva ao racionalismo; o panteísmo faz Deus vir à revelação e à autoconsciência no homem e cultiva o misticismo. Ambos destroem a verdade objetiva, entregam razão e sentimento a si mesmos e acabam na incredulidade ou na superstição. É notável, por isso, que a Sagrada Escritura nunca remeta o homem a si mesmo como fonte de conhecimento e medida da verdade religiosa. E como poderia fazê-lo, se descreve o homem psíquico inteira e integralmente — em seu intelecto, em seu coração, em sua vontade e também em sua consciência moral — como obscurecido e corrompido pelo pecado? Para o conhecimento da verdade ela sempre o remete à revelação objetiva, à palavra, ao ensino que procedeu de Deus.

5. Roma compreendeu excelentemente essa impossibilidade de uma autonomia religiosa e moral e por isso vinculou o homem, sob pena da salvação de sua alma, à igreja infalível. Esta, e assim, em última instância, o papa infalível, é para o cristão romano o principium de sua fé: o Papa dixit — "o papa disse" — é o fim de toda contradição. Mas a história ensina que essa infalibilidade, teórica ou prática, da igreja encontrou em todos os tempos contradição e oposição, não só em Roma como também nas igrejas da Reforma. E não foram os círculos incrédulos, mas os piedosos, os primeiros a sentir esse poder da hierarquia como um laço que aperta a consciência. Não se pode explicar essa oposição pela incredulidade e pela desobediência, desconhecendo, como de propósito, os motivos religiosos que estavam no seu fundamento. Ninguém ousa condenar todas essas seitas por se terem levantado contra a igreja e sua tradição; a própria Roma recua diante dessa conclusão, e o extra ecclesiam nulla salus é uma confissão que ainda à fé mais forte pesa demais. Há, de um lado, um espírito revolucionário, que quer demolir até o chão tudo o que se tornou histórico; mas há também um falso conservadorismo, que se compraz em deixar intocado o existente unicamente porque existe e que, segundo a conhecida palavra de Calvino, não move o mal bem assentado. Também na religião e na moral forma-se pouco a pouco uma rotina, que abafa e viola os direitos da personalidade, da consciência, da liberdade; mas então surge sempre, a seu tempo, o homem que não suporta essa pressão e que de novo toma a causa da liberdade do cristão. Esses são os pontos de viragem da história. Roma nunca pode aprovar tal oposição e tem de condená-la já de antemão; a Reforma, porém, dela mesma nasceu e não pode negar a outros o que tomou para si. E a Sagrada Escritura, por mais distante que esteja de toda resistência revolucionária, legitimou o direito de contradição contra todo mandamento humano que conflite com a Palavra de Deus, na palavra régia de Pedro: é preciso obedecer antes a Deus do que aos homens.

6. Parece, pois, que só é verdadeiro o método aplicado pelos teólogos bíblicos. Mas também esta direção padece de grande unilateralidade. Imagina estar inteiramente sem prevenção diante da Escritura e reproduzir-lhe o conteúdo pura e objetivamente. Esquece, porém, que todo crente e todo dogmático recebe antes de tudo suas convicções de fé da mão de sua igreja. Nunca vem de fora à Escritura, sem conhecimento e sem opinião prévia; traz já de casa certa concepção do conteúdo da revelação. Todo dogmático, ao pôr-se a trabalhar, reconheça-o ou não, está naquela manifestação histórica do cristianismo em que nasceu e foi criado, e vem à Escritura como cristão reformado, luterano ou romano; ninguém se desfaz aqui do seu meio, e cada um é filho do seu tempo, produto do seu ambiente. O resultado corresponde a essa expectativa: todos os manuais de dogmática saídos da direção bíblica refletem fielmente o ponto de vista pessoal e eclesiástico do autor, e não podem pretender objetividade maior que a dos dogmáticos eclesiásticos. Por isso todas essas direções são continuamente julgadas pela história: prestam seu serviço por um tempo e despertam uma verdade esquecida, mas não têm em si permanência. Começam sempre apelando da confissão para a Escritura, mas logo recuam da Escritura para a pessoa de Cristo e acabam por atacar também a autoridade dele.

Mas tal concepção bíblica não é apenas praticamente impossível; é também teoricamente incorreta. A Escritura não é um código, cujos artigos bastasse consultar para saber, num caso determinado, o seu parecer. Compõe-se de muitos livros, de pessoas diversas, de tempos muito diferentes, de conteúdo divergente. Não é uma unidade abstrata, mas orgânica e viva. Em parte alguma contém um esboço da doutrina da fé: esta há de ser derivada de todo o organismo da Escritura. A Escritura não está disposta para que a repitamos como papagaios, mas para que, como filhos livres de Deus, a pensemos até o fim. Mas então também é impossível toda pretensa ausência de pressupostos, toda objetividade. E tanto estudo e tanta reflexão do sujeito se ligam a isso, que um homem só é inteiramente incapaz da tarefa: para ela são precisos séculos, para ela está destinada a igreja, que tem a promessa da condução do Espírito em toda a verdade. Quem se isola da igreja, isto é, da cristandade, de toda a história do dogma, perde a verdade cristã. Só na comunhão dos santos se pode compreender o comprimento e a largura, a profundidade e a altura do amor de Cristo.

A isso acresce que os defensores dessa direção põem a graça em oposição hostil à natureza e não contam bastante com a encarnação do Verbo. Pois tão verdadeiramente como o Filho de Deus se fez homem, assim também o pensamento de Deus está depositado na Escritura, carne e sangue na consciência dos homens. A dogmática é, e deve ser, o pensamento divino inteiramente entrado e acolhido em nossa consciência humana, expresso livre e independentemente em nossa língua, em sua essência fruto dos séculos, em sua forma deste tempo. Por isso é também incorreta a antítese que muitas vezes se faz entre teologia bíblica e dogmática, como se aquela reproduzisse o conteúdo da Escritura e esta o dos dogmas eclesiásticos. Pois a dogmática não pretende outra coisa senão expor os pensamentos de Deus que Ele depositou na Sagrada Escritura — mas o faz, como convém, de maneira científica. Nesse sentido defenderam outrora os reformados o direito da chamada theologia scholastica: nada tinham contra que a verdade revelada fosse apresentada também em forma mais simples, sob o nome de theologia positiva ou catechetica, mas contestavam com toda a força que essas duas diferissem em conteúdo — o que as distinguia era apenas uma diferença de forma e de método. Por mais sublimes e admiráveis que fossem os pensamentos de Deus, não eram aforismos, mas formavam uma unidade orgânica, um todo sistemático, que também podia ser pensado até o fim e representado em forma científica.

7. Um bom método da dogmática deve, portanto, levar em conta os três dados: Escritura, igreja e convicção pessoal. Só assim é possível ser preservado de grosseira unilateralidade. Resta, contudo, determinar a relação em que esses três dados estão entre si. Em regra, recebemos do nosso meio as nossas convicções religiosas; todos nascemos como membros de uma igreja, e o pacto da graça nos acolhe desde o nascimento. Em tempos críticos como o nosso, acontece muitas vezes que sobrevenha depois uma dolorosa ruptura entre a fé da infância e a convicção pessoal. Se essa ruptura é de tal natureza que se deva de fato deixar a própria igreja, mas se possa ainda ligar-se a outra igreja historicamente existente, ela se cura com relativa rapidez: há mudança, mas não perda da religião mesma, do nome cristão, da comunhão, da confissão; resta então um dogma firme, e nesse ponto de vista continua possível também uma dogmática. Muitas vezes, porém, a dúvida penetra bem mais fundo. Muitos perdem toda a fé e chegam ao ceticismo e ao agnosticismo; aí já não há questão de dogmática, de fé, de confissão, de comunhão: a mera negação é incapaz de fundar comunhão. Outros, não podendo mais manter a fé da infância, tentam conquistar para si uma convicção religiosa própria — também aqui a influência do meio se faz sentir, com esta diferença apenas: que o que já não se achava numa igreja se busca agora numa escola filosófica. Também nesse ponto de vista já não há dogmática: há apenas uma Glaubenslehre, uma doutrina da fé, uma filosofia da religião.

A dogmática só é possível, portanto, para quem está na comunhão da fé com alguma igreja cristã. Isso está também na natureza da fé religiosa. As representações religiosas distinguem-se das científicas, entre outras coisas, por não repousarem sobre a própria compreensão nem sobre a autoridade de homem algum, mas unicamente sobre a autoridade de Deus. Mas isso implica que tenham achado fé e reconhecimento num círculo religioso, isto é, numa igreja; só aí a autoridade religiosa de uma representação religiosa se torna conhecível. Uma igreja não crê em sua confissão porque lhe percebe cientificamente a verdade, mas única e somente com base na Palavra de Deus. Quem busca sua convicção religiosa numa escola filosófica confunde religião com ciência e não recebe senão uma opinio doctoris, uma opinião privada sempre incerta e por muitos contestada. Também aqui é como em toda parte: as abstrações, os universalia, não existem na realidade. Assim como não existe já a igreja, também não existem a religião e a teologia; há apenas igrejas diferentes e, portanto, também teologias diferentes: a igreja é o solo natural da religião e da teologia. E assim será até que a congregação em Cristo tenha alcançado sua plena maturidade e todos tenham chegado à unidade da fé e do conhecimento do Filho de Deus. Essa unidade não se conquista pela violência, mas promove-se melhor se cada um pensa até o fim a fé da sua própria igreja e a apresenta o mais puramente possível. Não fora das igrejas existentes, mas por meio delas, Cristo prepara para si a sua única igreja santa e católica; e não fora dos diferentes dogmas eclesiásticos, mas por meio deles, se prepara e se obtém a unidade do conhecimento de Deus. O apego ao que existe é condição da melhora no futuro: no agora está o que será. Essa significação da igreja para a teologia funda-se na conexão que o próprio Cristo estabeleceu entre ambas: ele prometeu à sua igreja o Espírito Santo, que a guiaria em toda a verdade. Com isso a história do dogma vem a estar numa luz gloriosa: é a explicação da Escritura, a exposição que o Espírito Santo deu na igreja dos tesouros da Palavra. O dogmático, portanto, não há de tirar a matéria de sua dogmática apenas da confissão escrita de sua própria igreja, mas há de considerá-la em conexão com a história de toda a igreja de Cristo. Está sobre os ombros dos pais, sente-se cercado de uma nuvem de testemunhas, e toda dogmática deve também unir-se ao hino de louvor que a igreja de todos os séculos eleva a Deus.

8. Mas com isso nem a história do dogma nem a confissão da igreja foram elevadas a autoridade infalível. Há distinção entre o caminho pelo qual o dogmático é formado e o princípio do qual a dogmática recebe a sua matéria. Em toda ciência quem a pratica começa vivendo da tradição: o primeiro conhecimento de sua disciplina adquire-o sempre por autoridade, e precisa primeiro acolher em si a história dessa disciplina, para depois trabalhar independentemente e conquistar visão própria; mas ninguém, por isso, tem essa tradição, pedagogicamente tão importante, pela fonte de sua ciência. Não é diferente com o dogmático. Pedagogicamente a igreja precede a Escritura; mas segundo a ordem lógica a Escritura é o principium unicum da igreja e da teologia. Em caso de divergência — cuja possibilidade, do ponto de vista da Reforma, nunca se pode negar — igreja e confissão têm de ceder à Escritura.

Não a igreja, mas a Escritura é autopistos, digna de fé por si mesma, judex controversiarum, sui ipsius interpres. Nada pode ser posto no mesmo nível que ela: igreja, confissão, tradição, tudo se há de regular por ela e submeter-se a ela. Os remonstrantes acusaram os reformados de que estes, pela confissão, faltavam à autoridade, à suficiência e à perfeição da Sagrada Escritura. Mas os reformados, embora julgassem a confissão necessária nesta dispensação da igreja, para explicar a Palavra de Deus, afastar as heresias e manter a unidade da fé, sustentaram com toda a força que a confissão não teria a mínima autoridade ao lado da Escritura. Só a Escritura é norma e regula fidei et vitae; a confissão merece fé apenas porque e enquanto concorda e permanece em concordância com ela, obra falível de homens, revisável e examinável pela Escritura. É, quando muito, norma secundaria, não da verdade, mas da doutrina recebida em determinada igreja, e por isso obrigatória para todos os que querem viver em comunhão com essa igreja.

Todas as igrejas cristãs são unânimes em confessar que a Sagrada Escritura é o principium da teologia, e a Reforma reconheceu-a unanimemente como principium unicum. É verdade que a Confissão Belga confessa que Deus é conhecido por dois meios, a natureza e a Escritura, e que todos os teólogos reformados mantiveram a theologia naturalis em sua verdade e em seu valor. Mas no primeiro período, antes que o racionalismo falsificasse a teologia reformada, via-se claramente que natureza e Escritura não estavam independentes e separadas uma ao lado da outra, tampouco a theologia naturalis e a revelata. Calvino incorporou a teologia natural ao corpo da dogmática cristã. A teologia natural não tinha originariamente por fim abrir caminho gradual e progressivamente à theologia revelata; não se adotava com ela o ponto de vista provisório da razão, para então, por raciocínio e prova, subir ao ponto de vista da fé. Desde o princípio o dogmático estava no fundamento da fé e, como cristão, como crente, contemplava então a natureza; e descobria, com o seu olho cristão, armado da Sagrada Escritura, também na natureza os vestígios daquele Deus que pela Escritura, em Cristo, aprendera a conhecer como seu Pai. E, objetivamente, a natureza não estava como principium autônomo e independente ao lado da Escritura, cada um fornecendo o seu próprio conjunto de verdades: a natureza era vista à luz da Escritura, e a Escritura continha não só a verdade revelada em sentido estrito, mas também as verdades que o crente pode descobrir na natureza.

Ainda que haja, pois, um conhecimento de Deus a partir da natureza, a dogmática tem um único principium externum, a saber, a Sagrada Escritura, assim como tem também um único principium internum, a saber, a razão crente. E isso não meramente de modo que a Escritura fosse apenas norma e não fonte, mas precisamente no sentido de principium theologiae. Há aqui grande diferença entre os teólogos antigos e os do tempo presente. Desde que Schleiermacher retrocedeu do objeto ao sujeito, uma multidão de teólogos passou a ver na congregação e em sua confissão a fonte da verdade dogmática: reconheceram e exprimiram, e com razão, o caráter confessional e eclesiástico da dogmática, mas fizeram também da confissão uma fonte de conhecimento e rebaixaram a Sagrada Escritura a norma. Gunning chegou a afirmar que a doutrina da Escritura como fonte, e não como norma, não era reformada, mas propriamente remonstrante. Mas essa representação assenta numa concepção incorreta da relação entre igreja e Escritura. No primeiro tempo da congregação cristã ainda se podia falar de uma tradição pura, que corria paralela aos escritos dos apóstolos; mas essas duas correntes há muito confluíram: já não há hoje conhecimento algum da verdade cristã senão a partir da Sagrada Escritura. Além disso, a dogmática é coisa inteiramente diversa da simbólica. Esta descreve e explica a confissão da igreja; a dogmática, porém, dogmatiza, isto é, expõe o que no domínio religioso não vale, mas deve valer como verdade. Deve, é certo, estar em conexão com a confissão, mas está independentemente ao lado dela e expõe a verdade de Deus de um modo que lhe é próprio. Confissão e dogmática agem assim uma sobre a outra: a confissão é tão dependente da dogmática quanto esta daquela. Os dogmas não foram produzidos pela igreja, mas são fruto da teologia: primeiro estiveram os apologistas, depois veio Niceia; primeiro apareceram os reformadores, e depois seguiram-se as confissões protestantes.

E, finalmente, a doutrina da Escritura como unicum principium theologiae é também genuinamente da Reforma e reformada. A Confissão Belga ensina expressamente que o conhecimento de Deus e do seu serviço se haure só da Escritura, e que ela é, portanto, de fato fonte, e não apenas norma. As propriedades da auctoritas, da sufficientia e da perfectio, que os protestantes atribuíram à Escritura contra Roma, argumentam o mesmo. Que ao fazê-lo tenham preferido não falar de fons, mas de principium, não enfraquece em nada essa significação inteiramente única da Escritura para a dogmática. O nome principium é até de preferir ao de fons: esta última expressão indica a relação entre Escritura e teologia como mecânica; principium, porém, aponta para uma conexão orgânica. Os dogmas não estão na Escritura, mas nela está contida a sua matéria: a Escritura contém os germes, as sementes de que os dogmas, sob o ensino do Espírito na igreja, crescem. A dogmática é a verdade da Escritura, passada pela consciência pensante do homem e reproduzida em forma científica.

9. Nem por isso, contudo, ficou eliminado o caráter pessoal da doutrina da fé. Não pode nem deve ficar eliminado, porque a dogmática não é relato histórico, mas indicação do que, no domínio religioso, deve valer como verdade. Esse caráter pessoal, porém, não decorre de que se corte todo vínculo com o objeto e cada um exponha simplesmente o que lhe apraz. Pois então a dogmática deixa de ser ciência e não é senão opinião privada. Se a dogmática, como quer Van Manen, deve abandonar a ilusão de que há uma verdade dada de fora, objetiva, então já não há dogmática: há apenas opiniões subjetivas, das quais uma vale tanto quanto a outra. Toda ciência que pretende esse nome há de ter objeto próprio, existente no mundo real; pressupõe, ademais, que esse objeto é cognoscível; e está a ele ligada o mais estritamente possível. Para a dogmática não vale outra exigência. Mas a negação de tal objeto próprio e cognoscível nunca pode ser justificada com um apelo ao caráter pessoal da doutrina da fé: isso é confundir duas questões inteiramente distintas. De caráter pessoal da dogmática só se pode falar depois de estabelecido que ela tem objeto próprio.

Pois toda ciência tem um objeto presente no mundo real, e nem por isso deixa de trazer caráter pessoal; mas à medida que as ciências são menos formais e estão mais perto do centro, cresce nessa mesma medida a influência da personalidade. O homem, no exercício da ciência, não pode desfazer-se de si mesmo: traz consigo a sua educação, a sua visão da vida, o seu coração e a sua consciência, e estas por si exercem influência sobre a sua investigação. Isso em si não é errado: o dualismo que divide o homem em duas metades e o reduz, no exercício das ciências, a puro intelecto, é praticamente impossível e teoricamente mal concebido. A única exigência é que o homem seja sempre e em toda parte, também quando pratica ciência, um homem bom, um homem de Deus convenientemente equipado para toda boa obra. E na dogmática isso vale com muito mais razão, pois ela lida justamente com as convicções de fé mais profundas do homem e com o centro de toda ciência.

Por isso é também doutrina da Escritura que a revelação objetiva se completa na iluminação subjetiva. A doutrina reformada da Escritura está na mais estreita conexão com a do testimonium Spiritus Sancti. O verbum externum não permanece fora de nós, mas pela fé se torna verbum internum. O Espírito Santo, que deu a Escritura, dá também testemunho dessa Escritura no coração dos crentes; a própria Escritura provê o seu triunfo na consciência da congregação de Cristo. Mas, ao acolher na consciência os pensamentos de Deus depositados na Escritura, o crente continua sendo homem, com disposição, educação e discernimento próprios; a fé não nasce em todos do mesmo modo nem em todos tem a mesma força; e a influência do pecado continua a atuar também na sua consciência e no seu entendimento. Em consequência, a doutrina da fé continua a trazer caráter pessoal — como em toda ciência. Também os profetas e os apóstolos viram a mesma verdade por lados diferentes. A unidade da fé não foi mais alcançada que a unidade do conhecimento; mas é justamente pela diversidade que Deus conduz a sua congregação à unidade.

Para essa tarefa estará o dogmático equipado do melhor modo se viver em comunhão de fé com a igreja de Cristo e confessar a Escritura como único e suficiente principium do conhecimento de Deus. Recebe ele o conteúdo de sua fé das mãos da igreja: em sentido pedagógico, vem pela igreja à Escritura. Mas nisso não lhe é lícito ficar parado. Tem a vocação de analisar até as suas fibras os dogmas que veio a conhecer pela igreja e de investigar como estão radicados na Sagrada Escritura. Sua tarefa consistiria assim em entregar primeiro os dogmas objetivamente e depois reduzi-los à Escritura: seu método seria histórico-analítico. Mas esse método, ainda que tenha valor subordinado, tem contra si que por ele não se chega a um sistema científico. Faz melhor o dogmático em tomar posição na própria Escritura como principium theologiae e dali desenvolver os dogmas. Reproduz então, por assim dizer, o trabalho de pensamento da igreja; mostra-nos como os dogmas cresceram organicamente da Escritura, como não um texto isolado, mas a Escritura em sua totalidade é o solo firme e largo sobre o qual se ergueu o edifício dogmático. Esse método sintético e genético lhe dá, em segundo lugar, a vantagem de poder mostrar também a unidade e a conexão mútua dos dogmas: os diversos dogmas não são proposições isoladas, mas formam uma unidade — há propriamente um só dogma, nascido da Escritura, que se ramificou e se dividiu em toda sorte de dogmas particulares. O método do dogmático não pode nem deve ser outro senão sistemático. E, finalmente, tem ele ainda a vocação de, nesse desenvolvimento genético e sistemático, chamar a atenção para desvios possíveis, suprir lacunas possíveis e assim trabalhar no desenvolvimento futuro dos dogmas: é a tarefa crítica, que no tratamento sistemático da matéria dogmática já está de si incluída.

§ 4. Divisão da dogmática

1. Tão logo surgiu a dogmática, foi também preciso dividir a matéria nela tratada. Essa divisão era, no começo, extremamente simples. As três obras principais de Clemente de Alexandria não contêm divisão propriamente dita; o próprio Clemente diz que nelas apenas escreveu o que lhe vinha à mente, e que ninguém deve espantar-se com a falta de ordem. A obra de Orígenes Sobre os princípios já tenta pôr alguma ordem na matéria e tem quatro conceitos principais — Deus, mundo, liberdade, revelação. Os diversos loci sobre Deus, anjo, homem, Cristo já vêm aqui à luz, mas ainda sem boa ordem nem delimitação correta, e ainda incompletos: falta a doutrina dos sacramentos, a da Escritura vem no fim, e um princípio de divisão não se descobre. Essa divisão de Orígenes é retomada, em forma melhorada, por Teodoreto e está igualmente na base da Exposição exata da fé ortodoxa de João Damasceno.

Além disso, o Símbolo dos Apóstolos, em conexão com a fórmula batismal, ofereceu cedo outra divisão para a matéria dogmática: Rufino e Agostinho comentaram-no e trataram as principais matérias da fé cristã segundo o esquema trinitário que lhe está no fundamento. Mas Agostinho foi exemplo para muitos escritores posteriores não só nessa divisão: em seu Enquirídio a Lourenço trata toda a matéria dogmática e ética sob as três virtudes cristãs — fé, esperança e amor —, ainda que de modo muito desigual. Fé, oração e mandamento formam aqui o esquema da dogmática, adotado depois muitas vezes, sobretudo nos catecismos.

2. A disposição que Lombardo escolheu na Idade Média lembra mais a de Orígenes, Teodoreto e Damasceno. Suas Sentenças dividem-se em quatro livros: a Trindade; a criação e formação das coisas corporais e espirituais; a encarnação do Verbo; os sacramentos e as últimas coisas. Aqui já se observa progresso perceptível: os assuntos não só estão mais bem agrupados e delimitados, como o todo está repartido em quatro partes, cada uma com seu objeto próprio e distinto; a matéria ética não é acrescentada ao fim, mas incorporada à própria dogmática; os sacramentos, antes discutidos apenas de passagem, são tratados amplamente. Por outro lado, a disposição deixa muito a desejar em vários respeitos, e assuntos como Escritura, igreja e sobretudo os soteriológicos quase não são mencionados. A maioria dos escolásticos ligou-se a essa obra e escreveu comentários sobre ela; Tomás, por exemplo, desenvolve no prólogo ao seu comentário às Sentenças, de modo excelente, que primeiro Deus e depois suas obras — criação, restauração e consumação — são os assuntos dos quatro livros.

Mas do ponto de vista formal cabe lugar de honra ao Breviloquium de Boaventura. Ele faz preceder a obra de um proêmio com um belo panorama da doutrina da Escritura, e dá em seguida, em sete partes, um esboço da verdade da fé. Há aqui um curso firme e metódico, domínio completo da matéria, delimitação pura dos assuntos e também um princípio de divisão conscientemente escolhido, pois Boaventura diz que, embora a teologia trate desses sete assuntos, ela é scientia una, ciência una, porque Deus não é apenas o primeiro princípio e o exemplar efetivo das coisas na criação, mas também refetivo na redenção e perfetivo na retribuição.

Inteiramente diversa é a divisão de Tomás em sua Summa, obra de três partes. A primeira trata de Deus e de sua criação, antes e fora do pecado: Deus como princípio e exemplar de todas as coisas. A segunda fala do homem como sua imagem, começa pelo fim último do homem, a bem-aventurança, e desenvolve com vistas a ela a vontade, os atos, as virtudes e os pecados. A terceira descreve o caminho pelo qual podemos chegar à bem-aventurança da vida imortal, isto é, Cristo e os sacramentos; aí termina a obra, que Tomás deixou inacabada ao morrer.

A divisão de Tomás não só se desvia da de Boaventura, mas em muitos respeitos fica também atrás dela. É certo que na primeira questão da primeira parte se dá um desenvolvimento amplo da essência da teologia; mas diante disso a doutrina da Escritura permanece inteiramente por discutir. Além disso, Tomás salta logo, no começo da segunda parte, ao fim último da vida humana, e vê-se com isso obrigado a antecipar muitas vezes o que só depois pode ser tratado: as virtudes cristãs, o evangelho, a lei, a graça pressupõem a pessoa e a obra de Cristo. Sua divisão está já ligada à doutrina romana da ordo supernaturalis, à qual o homem deve ser elevado: Deus, homem, Cristo são os assuntos das três partes. Por fim, também a forma de tratamento por questões não está isenta de objeção.

3. Essas divisões foram na maior parte adotadas pelos teólogos romanos posteriores. Mas a escolástica teve ainda outra influência sobre a divisão da matéria. Boaventura já incluíra a doutrina da Escritura no proêmio; Tomás tratara de antemão a essência da teologia; o desenvolvimento da escolástica levou à distinção entre articuli mixti e puri, à doutrina dos praeambula fidei e dos motiva credibilitatis. Assim a matéria dos prolegômenos tornou-se cada vez mais extensa. E quando logo apareceu a Reforma com a autoridade exclusiva da Escritura, tornou-se necessário também aos teólogos romanos prestar contas dos principia da teologia. Melchior Cano sobretudo desenvolveu, em seus loci theologici, a doutrina dos loci, isto é, das fontes da teologia. Essa obra não é uma dogmática, mas uma tópica no sentido de Cícero: trata de dez fontes — Escritura, tradição, papa, concílio, igreja, pais da igreja, escolásticos, razão, filosofia e história —, das quais as sete primeiras se reduzem a duas, Escritura e tradição, e as três últimas são apenas ministerialmente teológicas.

Desse modo tornou-se gradualmente necessária, antes da dogmática propriamente dita, uma introdução ampla, que, também pela contestação principial da teologia por parte da filosofia, cresceu até virar uma dogmática fundamental inteira: a maioria das dogmáticas romanas trata, numa primeira parte, da essência da teologia, dos praeambula fidei, dos motiva credibilitatis, da fé, das fontes, e do conceito de dogmática. Nesses loci, Perrone coloca deliberadamente, à diferença de Cano, a igreja antes da Escritura. E assim é a disposição na maioria dos dogmáticos romanos mais recentes: a igreja avança cada vez mais para o primeiro plano, ela é o principium fidei. O curso da dogmática é então em geral o do método dos lugares: começa-se por Deus, considerado em si mesmo como uno e trino, e passa-se depois a Deus considerado em sua relação com as criaturas, primeiro como Deus Creator, depois como Deus Redemptor, em seguida como Deus Sanctificator e por fim como Deus Consummator.

4. A dogmática entre os reformadores foi desde o início antiescolástica e apresentou-se de início em forma muito simples e prática. Os Loci de Melanchthon nasceram de preleções sobre a Epístola aos Romanos: são inteiramente práticos, tratam apenas de capítulos antropológicos e soteriológicos, sobretudo os do pecado e da graça, da lei e do evangelho, e deixam por discutir os dogmas objetivos de Deus, Trindade, criação, encarnação, satisfação. As edições sucessivas mostram uma aproximação sempre maior da divisão sintética, que começa por Deus e desce às suas obras na natureza e na graça; mas é notável, nesse sentido, que os prolegômenos faltem inteiramente, que a cristologia saia curta demais porque a pessoa e a obra de Cristo não são tratadas separadamente, que o dogmático e o ético permaneçam estreitamente ligados, e que o todo não se conclua com os dogmas escatológicos, mas com alguns capítulos éticos.

Também Zuínglio trata alguns loci dogmáticos, mas foi logo posto à sombra pela Institutio da religião cristã de Calvino. Os Loci de Melanchthon ficaram mais sintéticos na forma, mas conservaram o caráter de uma série de lugares; a Institutio adquiriu cada vez mais forma sistemática. A edição de 1559 contém quatro livros: sobre o conhecimento de Deus como Criador, como Redentor, como Santificador, e um último sobre os meios externos da graça. A divisão não é, pois, puramente trinitária, mas derivada do símbolo apostólico; daí vir no fim uma quarta parte, que trata sobretudo da igreja e dos sacramentos. O ponto de partida da Institutio é teológico, mas Calvino não parte de um conceito abstrato de Deus, e sim de Deus tal como o homem o conhece pela natureza e pela Escritura.

5. Teólogos luteranos e reformados seguiram a princípio, quase geralmente, essa divisão sintética de Melanchthon e Calvino. Deram-lhe preferência sobretudo porque ela seguia o mesmo curso histórico que Deus delineara em sua revelação. Ela permaneceu por isso dominante na igreja luterana até Calixto, e na teologia reformada até Coccejus. Foi, porém, modificada em alguns pontos de modo importante. Cedo se antepôs à dogmática propriamente dita uma introdução em que se tratavam o conceito de teologia, a doutrina da Escritura e, aqui ou ali, também a essência da fé: a dogmática ficou assim dividida em duas partes, de principiis theologiae e de articulis fidei. No próprio corpo veio melhor distinção e delimitação e também ordenação mais sistemática dos loci: a eleição, tratada por Calvino no terceiro livro, passou para a frente, à doutrina dos decretos; a doutrina do mundo, do homem, de Cristo recebeu cada uma seu lugar próprio; a conclusão da dogmática não coube a alguns capítulos éticos, mas à consummatio seculi; a matéria ética foi discutida na soteriologia, ou numa segunda parte de operibus, ou ainda inteiramente separada da dogmática. No século XVII o tratamento dos loci individuais tornou-se cada vez mais escolástico, e a conexão com a vida de fé foi sentida cada vez menos.

6. A reação contra esse escolasticismo não podia, a longo prazo, deixar de aparecer. Começou na igreja luterana com Calixto e na reformada com Coccejus. Calixto concebeu a teologia como ciência prática e seguiu a divisão analítica, começando de imediato pelo fim, o destino do homem: a parte I trata de fine, isto é, da imortalidade da alma, da ressurreição e do juízo final; a parte II, de subjecto, isto é, de Deus, do anjo, do homem, do pecado; a parte III, de mediis, isto é, da predestinação, da encarnação, de Cristo, da justificação, da palavra, do sacramento. Essas três partes formam a pars communis, que diz respeito a todos os crentes; segue-se ainda uma pars propria, que trata sobretudo da igreja. Ainda que houvesse nisso muito de bom — acentuar, contra o tratamento escolástico da teologia, o seu caráter prático —, a divisão é onerada por muitas objeções. Além de a doutrina da igreja, tratada na pars propria, ser verdade de importância para todos os crentes, causa estranha impressão que a dogmática comece pelo fim, pela imortalidade; e a segunda parte, que devia tratar do sujeito da teologia, o homem, contém também toda a doutrina sobre Deus. Ainda assim, esse método analítico foi seguido pelos teólogos luteranos posteriores e encontrou aceitação também entre os reformados.

Já antes de Calixto, Keckermann publicara um sistema de teologia sagrada em que define a teologia, apelando ao catecismo de Ursino, não como scientia contemplatrix, mas como disciplina operativa, ou melhor ainda como prudentia religiosa de chegar à salvação. Escolhe por isso com decisão o método analítico, pois o sintético é próprio das ciências, ao passo que o analítico convém às disciplinas operativas. Na primeira parte trata dos principia da teologia, a saber, Deus, o principium essendi, e sua Palavra, o principium cognoscendi: só desses dois nos vêm a ser conhecidos o fim e os meios que a ele conduzem. O fim da teologia é a vida, a salvação eterna, e os meios para alcançá-lo são dois, o conhecimento de nossa miséria e a libertação dela — donde o livro II tratar do homem e de seu pecado, e o livro III dos media salutis: eleição, Cristo, igreja, justificação, sacramentos.

Igualmente, em Coccejus o ponto de vista teológico foi trocado pelo antropológico. O elemento novo em seu Sistema da doutrina da aliança e do testamento de Deus não estava no conceito de aliança como tal, já antes desenvolvido. Estava em que Coccejus, pela primeira vez, ordenou toda a matéria dogmática a partir desse conceito; em que seguiu, na disposição da matéria, a ordem histórica das dispensações da aliança, distinguindo-as tão agudamente que a unidade delas se perdeu e só podia ser preservada por exegese típica arbitrária; e, por fim, em que considera toda a história da aliança da graça, do começo ao fim, como uma abolição da aliança das obras: pecado, Cristo, Nova Aliança, morte corporal e ressurreição são os cinco pontos de virada pelos quais a aliança das obras é sucessivamente privada de toda a sua força e operação. Essa divisão é onerada por muitas objeções: não toma seu ponto de partida teologicamente em Deus, mas na aliança de Deus e do homem, e por isso não pode tratar a doutrina sobre Deus e sobre o homem senão de antemão, numa introdução, a título de pressuposto; pelo seu curso histórico apaga a fronteira entre a história da revelação e a dogmática, e com isso mina esta última; cai em repetições múltiplas e chega por si mesma a exagerar ora as analogias, ora as distinções entre as diferentes dispensações da aliança.

7. Mas mudança ainda maior veio à forma da dogmática pela influência da filosofia. Ela se exprime sobretudo em que a dogmática propriamente dita se torna, em seu conteúdo material, cada vez mais pobre, enquanto a pars formalis ganha continuamente em tamanho e amplitude. Até então fora bem diferente: os prolegômenos faltavam de todo, ou eram pequenos; toda a força era empregada na elaboração e na defesa dos dogmas particulares. O fundamento estava tão firme que não era sequer investigado; todo o trabalho se gastava no edifício erguido sobre ele. Isso mudou pela filosofia, pelos direitos que a razão pouco a pouco arrogou a si diante da revelação: já não se contentava com o modesto papel de serva e exigia voz no capítulo. Na pars materialis isso teve por consequência que toda elaboração escolástica dos dogmas fosse evitada o mais possível; os dogmas são simplificados e desgastados e perdem o que têm de distintivo; a simplicidade torna-se superficialidade.

Mas a influência sobre a parte formal da dogmática foi ainda maior. Abandonou-se aqui o ponto de partida reformatório da fé e voltou-se ao da teologia romana. Primeiro pensou-se que a razão humana, mesmo fora da fé, podia produzir de si mesma todas as verdades da theologia naturalis; esta precedia a theologia revelata como praeambula fidei, a razão emancipava-se da fé e da revelação, e ambas ficavam independentes lado a lado. Em seguida, essa razão não só recebeu domínio próprio ao lado da revelação, mas estendeu também seu poder sobre a própria revelação: concedeu-se-lhe o direito de investigar a verdade da revelação. Na teologia natural estava-se sobre fundamento firme, sobre base puramente científica; desse ponto de vista investigava-se também a revelação, e se então a razão, por toda sorte de provas racionais e históricas, como outros tantos motiva credibilitatis, demonstrasse a verdade da revelação, era decerto razoável crer nela e submeter-se a ela. Assim os prolegômenos ficaram cada vez mais extensos: trata-se primeiro da religião, depois da teologia natural e das verdades racionais, em seguida da revelação e por fim da Sagrada Escritura, cuja verdade é sustentada por toda sorte de provas históricas, críticas e racionais. E só depois desse longo caminho se chega à dogmática propriamente dita. Todo o ponto de vista mudou: o ponto de partida já não é a fé, mas a razão. Que admira que isso, no deísmo e no racionalismo, negue toda revelação — uma revelação que afinal nada dá de novo e é inteiramente supérflua?

Essa ordem de tratamento é essencialmente própria da teologia escolástica e romana. Os socinianos nunca se ergueram acima desse ponto de vista racionalista, e os remonstrantes voltaram a esse método: Limborch fala primeiro da teologia e da religião, depois da existência de Deus, e só então da Sagrada Escritura. Gradualmente essa expansão dos prolegômenos penetrou também na dogmática ortodoxa, e no século XVIII começa a fixar-se uma série de assuntos para a introdução: teologia, conhecimento natural de Deus, revelação, Escritura — assim em todos os teólogos de direção racionalista e supranaturalista.

8. Foi de fato por Kant que o fundamento racionalista da dogmática foi minado, e Schleiermacher tentou realmente salvar a fé e a doutrina da fé restringindo-as ao sentimento e à descrição dele. Mas na verdade nenhuma mudança se produziu nessa ordem da dogmática. Os ataques à religião cristã neste século dirigem-se em primeiro lugar contra os próprios fundamentos. Em séculos anteriores a fé era mais poderosa e a pergunta "por que creio?" mal surgia; os fundamentos pareciam tão firmes que investigá-los era inteiramente desnecessário. Agora, porém, a dogmática é contestada justamente em seus pressupostos filosóficos: não se nega esta ou aquela doutrina dentro da dogmática, mas a possibilidade da dogmática. A capacidade cognitiva humana é limitada às coisas visíveis; a revelação é tida por impossível; a Sagrada Escritura é privada de sua autoridade divina pela crítica histórica; e até o direito e o valor da religião são seriamente disputados. Por tudo isso, e em parte por causa disso, a vida religiosa diminuiu fortemente: há muito movimento na esfera religiosa, mas há pouca vida verdadeiramente religiosa. O "eu creio", infantil e ao mesmo tempo heroico, raras vezes se ouve, e cedeu lugar ao duvidar crítico. Em tempos de vida religiosa desperta fala-se como quem tem autoridade, e não como o escriba; então soa dos lábios: sei em quem tenho crido. Mas num tempo crítico como o nosso há incerteza precisamente quanto aos principia, quanto à fonte de conhecimento, ao método, à prova. A pars formalis é, por isso, ainda a parte mais importante da dogmática: toda uma apologética precede a dogmática.

Schleiermacher fez de fato da dogmática uma ciência positiva e histórica e tentou libertá-la de toda apologética. Mas fez a teologia filosófica preceder a teologia histórica, à qual a dogmática pertence, e esta havia de tomar seu ponto de partida acima do cristianismo, na vida religiosa comunitária em geral, para dali determinar criticamente a essência do cristianismo. De fato, não libertou assim a teologia da filosofia, mas tornou-a dela tão dependente quanto possível — o que se mostra também em que faz preceder sua Glaubenslehre de uma introdução ampla, com toda espécie de teoremas emprestados da ética, da filosofia da religião e da apologética. Em conexão com ele tornou-se costume começar a dogmática com uma parte apologética ou com uma doutrina dos princípios, que na maioria percorre os conceitos de natureza do nosso conhecimento em matéria religiosa, religião, revelação, Sagrada Escritura e igreja. O conselho de Liebner — desenvolver na introdução apenas o conceito de dogmática, pois de outro modo vem uma dogmática inteira antes da dogmática, e os conceitos de religião e revelação já pressupõem a doutrina de Deus e do homem — foi pouco seguido.

9. Quanto, primeiro, à divisão da dogmática em uma parte geral e uma parte especial, ela não só se tornou necessária pela oposição principial à dogmática, como é em si mesma útil e boa. Cedo se sentiu a necessidade de pôr em luz, antes dos dogmas propriamente ditos, a essência da teologia e seus princípios; Polano já fazia distinção entre os principia e os articuli fidei. E aos poucos tornou-se necessidade urgente, para o crente, saber não só o que crê, mas também por que crê. Mas com isso se determina também a tarefa dessa primeira parte geral. Ela não deve ocupar-se de toda sorte de questões enciclopédicas, como a essência, a história e a divisão da teologia: o desenvolvimento da essência da teologia deve ser deixado à enciclopédia; à dogmática pertence apenas a exposição do nome, do conceito, do método, da divisão e da história da própria dogmática, como se faz na introdução.

Mas a parte principial da dogmática deve ser limitada ainda de outro modo. O método que surgiu já com a escolástica e depois encontrou aceitação também entre os protestantes — tratar primeiro o conhecimento natural de Deus, os praeambula fidei, e em seguida todas as provas históricas e racionais da revelação, os motiva credibilitatis — merece reprovação, porque abandona logo no início e por princípio o ponto de vista da fé, passa para o terreno do adversário e é assim, de fato, racionalista, tornando a dogmática dependente da filosofia. A isso pertence também a tentativa de identificar a teologia ou religião natural com a aliança das obras e tratá-la como preparação da teologia revelada, que seria em substância uma com a aliança da graça: Schweizer e Scholten fazem da religião natural, da religião da lei e da religião da redenção três momentos de um processo religioso. Com isso a revelação não só é privada de seu caráter sobrenatural, como se usa a divisão reformada contra a sua intenção. A aliança das obras, antes da queda, não é preparação da aliança da graça, mas forma com ela uma antítese, pois esta só aparece na história depois da ruptura daquela pelo pecado. A distinção entre teologia natural e revelada, por outro lado, é inteiramente diversa: não é histórica, mas subsiste e continua sempre na teologia. Contra tal racionalização da religião e da teologia deve manter-se o caráter positivo. Os principia fidei são também articuli fidei, que repousam não sobre raciocínios e provas humanas, mas sobre autoridade divina. O reconhecimento da revelação, da Escritura como Palavra de Deus, é fruto e ato de fé. Na dogmática, do princípio ao fim, quem tem a palavra é o crente, tanto nos principia como nos articuli fidei: ele confessa e presta contas de sua fé, do seu fundamento e do seu conteúdo. Na primeira parte, portanto, desenvolvem-se apenas os principia fidei. Estes são duplos, principium externum e internum, objetivo e formal, assim como se devem distinguir a religião objetiva e a subjetiva. E nesses dois se esgota toda a primeira parte da dogmática.

Na disposição da matéria da segunda parte, a divisão trinitária deve ser rejeitada, porque naturalmente não pode incluir o tratamento da própria Trindade em uma das três economias e por isso tem de fazê-lo preceder, a título de suposição, num capítulo à parte; e porque os loci sobre criação, anjo, homem, pecado e igreja, distribuídos pelas pessoas da Trindade, não podem alcançar o que lhes é próprio. Mas objeções muito maiores existem contra a divisão cristológica. Por atraente que pareça à primeira vista, é inutilizável. Repousa, em primeiro lugar, muitas vezes na representação incorreta de que não a Escritura, mas especificamente a pessoa de Cristo seria o principium e a fonte de conhecimento da dogmática — e no entanto nada sabemos de Cristo senão a partir da Escritura e por meio dela. Além disso, Cristo é certamente o centro e o conteúdo principal da Sagrada Escritura; mas precisamente porque é o centro, não é o ponto de partida: pressupõe Deus e o homem, assim como também não apareceu imediatamente, mas só muitos séculos depois da promessa. As demais divisões — derivadas das três virtudes, de fé, oração e mandamento, do destino e do fim último do homem, da aliança ou comunhão de Deus e homem, do reino de Deus, dos conceitos de vida, amor, espírito — podem ter muito a seu favor na prática e estar em seu lugar num catecismo; não podem entrar em consideração para uma dogmática, que é o sistema do conhecimento de Deus. Não são para isso bastante centrais e gerais. Por isso ou são trazidas de fora e não governam o sistema, ou são mantidas estritamente como princípio de divisão e fazem injustiça a vários loci.

10. O conteúdo da dogmática é o conhecimento de Deus, tal como Ele se revelou em Cristo, por sua Palavra. O caráter distintivo do conhecimento do crente consiste em que ele vê tudo religiosa e teologicamente, considera tudo à luz de Deus, sub specie aeternitatis. Essa é a diferença entre a sua visão de mundo e a filosófica ou científica. Na dogmática é sempre o crente, o cristão, quem fala. Ele não especula sobre Deus, não parte de um conceito abstrato e filosófico de Deus, e não chega pela teologia natural à teologia revelada. Não raciocina sobre Deus tal como existe em si mesmo, pois esse conhecimento é totalmente inatingível; descreve apenas aquele conhecimento de Deus que lhe foi revelado em Cristo. Assim, mesmo quando na primeira parte da dogmática trata de Deus, de seus atributos, da Trindade, ele fala e pensa como crente, como cristão, como teólogo, e não como filósofo. Em cada dogma, portanto, bate o coração da religião. A dogmática não é sistema filosófico; a dogmática é teologia.

Mas justamente por isso o dogmático, em seu sistema do conhecimento de Deus, não descreve como chegou à fé e como pela fé obteve, subjetiva e sucessivamente, a compreensão das várias verdades de fé. Isso seria um método analítico, excelente num catecismo, mas que não convém a uma dogmática. Ele explica antes o conteúdo de sua fé, tal como está objetivamente, na revelação, desdobrado pelo próprio Deus diante do seu olho de fé. Deriva o princípio de divisão e a disposição da matéria não da sua própria vida de fé, mas do próprio objeto que tem de descrever; não do sujeito crente, mas do objeto da fé. Por mais que concordemos de todo o coração com que na dogmática seja o crente quem pensa e fala, é coisa inteiramente diversa derivar também da própria experiência a ordenação da matéria dogmática. Com isso a dogmática seria desconhecida em seu caráter, passaria a antropologia e deixaria de ser teológica. Ela só permanece teológica se o seu sistema for derivado da sua própria matéria e do seu próprio conteúdo.

Escolhido bem esse ponto de partida, apenas duas divisões se recomendam. A primeira é a divisão trinitária já discutida. Recomenda-se por seu caráter puramente teológico: Deus é princípio e fim, alfa e ômega; natureza e história estão subsumidas sob Ele; todas as coisas são de Deus e para Deus. A divisão trinitária guarda contra a uniformidade e garante vida, desenvolvimento, processo. Mas com isso fica ao mesmo tempo indicado o seu perigo: é especulativa demais, sacrifica a história ao sistema, toma com demasiada facilidade a cosmogonia para dentro da vida trinitária de Deus e torna-se então teogonia — a filosofia de Erígena, Böhme, Baader, Schelling e Hegel serve de prova.

Merece portanto preferência aquela divisão que é teológica e ao mesmo tempo traz caráter histórico-genético. Também ela toma seu ponto de partida em Deus e considera todas as criaturas apenas em relação a Ele; mas, partindo de Deus, desce às suas obras, para por elas tornar a subir até Ele e nele terminar. Também nessa divisão, portanto, Deus é o princípio, o meio e o fim: dele, por ele e para ele são todas as coisas. Mas Deus não é aqui arrastado para dentro do processo da história, e a história alcança aqui melhor o que lhe é próprio. Entre Deus e suas obras faz-se distinção. Nessas obras Ele aparece como Criador, Restaurador e Consumador: é exemplar efetivo na criação, refetivo na redenção, perfetivo na retribuição. A dogmática é o sistema do conhecimento de Deus tal como Ele se revelou em Cristo; é o sistema da religião cristã. E a essência da religião cristã consiste em que a criação do Pai, destruída pelo pecado, é restaurada de novo na morte do Filho de Deus e, pela graça do Espírito Santo, recriada em um reino de Deus. A dogmática mostra-nos como Deus, o Todo-suficiente em si mesmo, glorifica-se contudo em sua criação, a qual, mesmo despedaçada pelo pecado, é ainda assim reunida em Cristo (Ef 1.10). Descreve-nos Deus, sempre Deus, do princípio ao fim: Deus em seu ser, Deus em sua criação, Deus diante do pecado, Deus em Cristo, Deus quebrando pelo Espírito Santo toda resistência e conduzindo a criação inteira ao fim por Ele determinado, a glória do seu nome. A dogmática não é, portanto, ciência seca. É uma teodiceia, um hino de louvor a todas as virtudes e perfeições de Deus, um cântico de adoração e de gratidão, uma "glória a Deus nas alturas".

§ 5. História e literatura da dogmática

A. O surgimento da dogmática, séculos II-IV.

1. A Sagrada Escritura não é uma dogmática. Contém todo o conhecimento de Deus de que temos necessidade, mas não o formulou dogmaticamente: a verdade está ali depositada como fruto da revelação e da inspiração, numa linguagem que é a expressão imediata da vida e que por isso permanece sempre fresca e original; ainda não se tornou objeto de reflexão nem passou pela consciência pensante. O período da revelação tinha de se fechar antes que pudesse começar o da reprodução dogmática. A Escritura é a mina de ouro, mas é a igreja que dela extrai o ouro, o cunha e o converte em moeda corrente. Esse processamento dogmático não é obra de um único teólogo, nem de uma igreja ou de uma escola particular, mas de toda a igreja através de todos os séculos, de toda a nova humanidade renascida por Cristo. Também a teologia e a dogmática têm uma história — não apenas no sentido de que a matéria foi sendo gradualmente revelada por Deus, nem apenas no de que as diversas verdades foram sendo formuladas com mais clareza pela igreja, mas ainda neste: que a consciência científica foi obtendo, cada vez mais, um discernimento claro do organismo e do sistema daquela verdade revelada. Também o caráter científico da dogmática percorreu uma história.

Os Pais Apostólicos ainda se mantêm inteiramente no ponto de vista de uma fé ingênua e infantil. O cristianismo não era fruto da investigação humana, mas da revelação, e exigia por isso, em primeiro lugar, fé. Os conceitos bíblicos são de fato adotados, mas sem que a reflexão desperte e sem que seu conteúdo seja pensado e analisado; todo o empenho se dirige a converter a verdade cristã em vida, e a ênfase não recai sobre o conhecimento, mas sobre uma vida santa. O círculo de ideias é ainda estreito: faltam por completo muitos conceitos bíblicos, outros são enfraquecidos, e prepara-se a concepção legalista do cristianismo. A distância entre os Apóstolos e os Pais Apostólicos salta fortemente aos olhos: a consciência pagã não podia assimilar tão depressa os pensamentos cristãos.

2. Nessa simples repetição e aplicação prática da verdade da Escritura a teologia não podia ficar parada. A oposição que o cristianismo foi experimentando da parte da cultura pagã forçou-o à reflexão e à defesa. No primeiro período o poder pagão limitou-se à perseguição, ao ódio e ao escárnio; mas aos poucos o mundo pagão teve de contar com o cristianismo e o atacou cientificamente, em Celso, Porfírio, Frontão e, mais tarde, Juliano. Todos os argumentos que depois, por todos os séculos, foram levantados contra o cristianismo já se encontram neles: contra a autenticidade dos livros bíblicos, contra a revelação e os milagres, contra dogmas como a encarnação, a satisfação e a ressurreição, contra a moral cristã e sua incultura. Também esse combate científico não venceu o cristianismo. E os pagãos viram-se obrigados ou a trazer a velha religião a nova vida, ou a misturar e ligar o cristianismo ao paganismo, como aconteceu no gnosticismo.

O gnosticismo foi uma tentativa poderosa de absorver o cristianismo na fusão de toda sorte de elementos pagãos e assim despojá-lo de seu caráter absoluto. A questão principal era como o espírito humano viera parar nos grilhões da matéria e como podia libertar-se deles. Deus é ali a unidade abstrata e indiferenciada; dele não se explica a matéria, causa do mal, que se deriva de um deus inferior, o demiurgo, identificado com o Deus do Antigo Testamento. Para a redenção dos espíritos presos na matéria procedem de Deus vários éons, que representam as várias religiões e culminam no éon Cristo: o cristianismo não é, pois, a única, mas a mais alta religião. Cristo é concebido doceticamente, pois não importa o fato, a história, mas a ideia. Por isso também a bem-aventurança suprema consiste em conhecer; a fé pode servir aos não desenvolvidos, o conhecimento é o mais alto, propriedade dos "espirituais". O gnosticismo transformou o cristianismo numa espécie de filosofia especulativa, que por todos os séculos, até os sistemas de Hegel e Schelling, exerceu sua influência.

Diante desses ataques a defesa tornou-se necessária. Os cristãos foram compelidos a refletir sobre o conteúdo da revelação e a opor um verdadeiro conhecimento cristão ao falso; a verdade revelada torna-se objeto de pensamento metódico e científico. A teologia surgiu — não da igreja e para a igreja, nem para a formação de seus ministros, mas por ocasião e para a repulsa dos ataques dirigidos contra o cristianismo. Para tal atividade do pensamento era necessário o conhecimento da filosofia pagã: a teologia nasceu com o auxílio da filosofia e em ligação com ela. Também os gnósticos o haviam tentado, mas havia diferença essencial no modo como uns e outros buscavam essa ligação. Essa diferença não está em que os primeiros tenham empreendido uma helenização aguda e os segundos uma helenização gradual do cristianismo, como quer Harnack. Está em que, nos gnósticos, o conteúdo positivo e absoluto da religião cristã se perdeu, enquanto nos apologistas foi preservado; naqueles o uso da filosofia era material, nestes essencialmente formal; aqueles foram por isso rejeitados pela igreja, estes reconhecidos; aqueles apresentavam as várias filosofias como um processo religioso em que também o cristianismo se incluía, estes procuravam demonstrar a religião cristã, que reconheciam e aceitavam, como a verdade mais alta, como a verdadeira filosofia, que une em si todos os elementos de verdade vindos de outra parte.

Esse é o pensamento fundamental dos apologistas: Deus é um, inefável, espiritual, mas pelo Logos é também criador do mundo e princípio de todo bem moral — o dualismo gnóstico está aqui vencido, e também a matéria é boa e criada por Deus. O homem foi originalmente criado bom, recebeu razão e liberdade e foi destinado à imortalidade, que devia alcançar pelo caminho da livre obediência; mas caiu sob o domínio da sensualidade, e a causa do pecado é buscada na vontade do homem. Deus revelou-se pelo Logos desde os tempos mais antigos, especialmente aos profetas em Israel, e por fim em seu Filho Jesus Cristo, em quem toda verdade anterior é confirmada e completada e por quem, como mestre da verdade, o homem é reconduzido ao seu destino. Os apologistas são assim intelectualistas e moralistas; contudo, em Justino, de longe o mais importante deles, não falta o esforço de compreender Cristo também como Reconciliador e Redentor, por cujo sangue recebemos o perdão dos pecados.

3. Os começos da teologia entre os apologistas não foram apenas fracos, mas em muitos respeitos também não isentos de unilateralidade e de erro. Os problemas que se apresentavam eram muitos e formidáveis — a relação entre teologia e filosofia, a doutrina do Logos em sua relação com Deus, o significado de Cristo e de sua morte — e demasiado profundos para que a compreensão justa se obtivesse de uma só vez. Tão logo houve teologia, houve também distinção de direção e de escola, e duas espécies de direção dogmática logo se distinguem.

De um lado, a representada por Tertuliano e por Irineu. Ambos se põem antiteticamente diante da filosofia — Tertuliano a bane do modo mais cortante, na conhecida passagem sobre o que têm em comum Atenas e Jerusalém, a academia e a igreja —, e no entanto fazem dela o uso mais ingênuo; Tertuliano é justamente tão importante para a teologia porque introduziu uma série de termos para o dogma trinitário e cristológico: trias, trinitas, satisfacere, meritum, sacramentum, una substantia e tres personae, duae substantiae in una persona. Mas ao fazê-lo mantêm-se sobre o fundamento da fé da igreja; são históricos, positivos, realistas, e entre fé e teologia não fazem distinção qualitativa, mas quando muito quantitativa. De um sistema dogmático ainda não se pode falar: os dogmas estão soltos uns ao lado dos outros e um princípio definido não se encontra. Não obstante, a teologia desses homens, e sobretudo a de Irineu, foi a dos séculos seguintes: a unidade de Deus, a unidade de essência entre o Pai e o Filho e entre o Deus do Antigo e o do Novo Testamento, a criação do mundo do nada, a origem do pecado na liberdade da vontade, as duas naturezas de Cristo, a revelação absoluta de Deus em Cristo — todos os dogmas posteriores se encontram nele, claramente expressos e mantidos contra o gnosticismo. No cristianismo de Irineu desdobrou-se pela primeira vez uma ciência teológica própria e independente.

Bem diversa foi a atitude dos teólogos alexandrinos. Em Alexandria, no fim do século II e no início do III, despertou o empenho de elaborar cientificamente a matéria cristã e assim mediá-la com a consciência da época. O primeiro mestre que conhecemos por seus escritos é Clemente de Alexandria, posto na sombra por Orígenes, o teólogo mais influente dos primeiros séculos. O empenho de ambos era transformar a doutrina eclesiástica da fé em ciência especulativa. É certo que mantiveram a fé e que, à diferença dos gnósticos, tomaram seu ponto de partida na doutrina positiva da igreja: Clemente chegou a chamar a fé um "conhecimento abreviado", e a fonte do conhecimento da verdade é para eles única e exclusivamente a revelação. Mas a diferença começa em que os alexandrinos admitiram uma diferença qualitativa entre fé e ciência. A fé pode ser boa e necessária para os simples; os desenvolvidos não se contentam com ela. A teologia deve visar a desenvolver o conteúdo da fé numa ciência que não repouse sobre a autoridade, mas encontre em si mesma sua garantia; a fé deve ser elevada a conhecimento, e o conhecimento deixa de ser meio de repelir a heresia e torna-se fim. A fé conduz apenas a um cristianismo corpóreo; a teologia deve desenvolver da Escritura o cristianismo espiritual. Com o auxílio da filosofia grega Orígenes entrega um sistema que testemunha um olhar genial e profunda força de pensamento, mas que repetidamente corre o perigo de fazer a teologia passar a filosofia: a subordinação do Filho, a eternidade da criação, a preexistência das almas, o dualismo de espírito e matéria, a restauração de todas as coisas puseram-no em conflito com a fé da igreja e mais tarde acarretaram sua condenação. Nessa teologia a religião cristã se dissolve em ideias: ela busca uma transação entre igreja e mundo, fé e ciência, um compromisso entre a loucura da cruz e a sabedoria do mundo, e é assim o tipo mais fino e mais rico daquela teologia de mediação que repetidamente surge na igreja.

4. No início do terceiro século os fundamentos da teologia cristã estavam lançados: a igreja, diante do paganismo e do judaísmo, diante do gnosticismo e do ebionitismo, assumiu deliberadamente posição firme e salvou a independência do cristianismo. Mas surgem então disputas internas. A grande luta correu sobre a relação do Logos e do Espírito com o Pai, e a heresia a combater era o monarquianismo em suas duas formas. A dinamista, sobretudo em Paulo de Samósata, procurava manter a unidade de Deus de tal modo que tinha o Filho e o Espírito não por pessoas, mas por atributos, e negava a divindade a Jesus, homem equipado em medida especial pelo Logos divino. Os modalistas, ao contrário, ensinavam que a própria Divindade se fizera carne em Cristo; reconheciam assim a divindade de Cristo, mas identificavam Pai e Filho e chegavam ao patripassianismo — opinião muito difundida no século III, defendida sobretudo por Sabélio. No fim do século o dogma da divindade de Cristo e de sua distinção do Pai estava firme, tanto no Oriente quanto no Ocidente: havia três hipóstases no ser divino. Os conceitos com que o pensamento se ocupará no século seguinte — mônada, tríade, essência, hipóstase, pessoa — já existem, mas só depois adquirirão seu caráter definido e seu valor fixo. O fundamento foi lançado e demarcaram-se as fronteiras dentro das quais a especulação cristã testará suas forças.

B. A dogmática na Igreja Oriental.

5. O período do século IV ao VIII, no Oriente, é inteiramente tomado pelas controvérsias cristológicas. A consubstancialidade com o Pai do Filho que se fez homem em Cristo foi o dogma por excelência. O interesse religioso aqui em jogo era que o próprio Deus tinha de se fazer homem, para que nós, homens, libertos da morte, fôssemos conduzidos à imortalidade e feitos participantes da natureza divina: a divindade de Cristo é a essência do cristianismo. Ninguém compreendeu isso melhor do que Atanásio, cuja história é a de seu século. Para ele todo o cristianismo se concentra na redenção para a vida eterna pelo verdadeiro Filho de Deus; nisso ele mantém o caráter específico da religião cristã, liberta a doutrina da Trindade das especulações cosmológicas que a ela ainda se prendiam e preserva o cristianismo da secularização. Cristo tinha de ser Deus para poder ser nosso Salvador.

Por causa desse significado inteiramente único do dogma cristológico, não vêm à luz sistemas dogmáticos propriamente ditos, mas uma série de tratados. O arianismo é combatido por Atanásio em todos os seus escritos e condenado nos sínodos de Niceia e de Constantinopla; a divindade e a consubstancialidade do Espírito Santo são defendidas contra Macedônio e estabelecidas em Constantinopla, em 381. Já durante a questão da consubstancialidade do Filho surgiu uma segunda, sobre a natureza humana e sua união com a divina. Apolinário reconhecia que o Redentor tinha de ser Deus, mas não podia ser homem perfeito, pois então haveria dois seres e duas pessoas e nenhuma unidade se constituiria: o Logos teria assumido uma carne animada e nela formado ele mesmo o eu, o princípio da autoconsciência; foi condenado em Constantinopla, em 381. Estabelecidas as duas naturezas, surgiu a divergência sobre a natureza de sua união. Não substancial e essencial, mas moral e relativa, dizia Nestório: há em Cristo duas pessoas, duas hipóstases; encontrou forte adversário em Cirilo de Alexandria e foi condenado em Éfeso, em 431. A opinião diretamente oposta, a de Êutiques, foi condenada em Calcedônia, em 451.

6. O calcedonianismo não trouxe paz; a confusão aumentou, o monofisismo era forte demais no Oriente, e até hoje há cristãos monofisitas na Síria, no Egito, na Abissínia e na Armênia. O conflito monergista e monotelita, surgido no século VII, terminou com a determinação de duas vontades em Cristo no sexto sínodo de Constantinopla, em 680.

Mas dogmaticamente não importam apenas os escritos cristológicos. A doutrina de Deus, seus nomes, atributos e providência foi tratada em ligação com os apologistas: partia-se em geral do conhecimento natural de Deus, de Deus como ser simples e imutável, cuja existência podia ser provada psicológica, cosmológica e teleologicamente, e que, embora incognoscível em sua essência, era revelado na Escritura como Triúno. Cosmologia e antropologia foram tratadas de modo a evitar o origenismo: Deus criara o mundo pelo Logos segundo o modelo de um mundo espiritual supramundano, e o pecado surgiu pelo livre arbítrio.

De grande significado foram os cinco escritos sobre os nomes divinos, as hierarquias e a teologia mística, que vieram à luz no século V e por muito tempo passaram por escritos de Dionísio Areopagita: usaram a filosofia neoplatônica e a mística panteísta para elaborar a doutrina cristã, e foram logo altamente estimados, usados por teólogos, místicos e ascetas, sobretudo na Idade Média, e quase equiparados à Escritura. Todos os elementos do desenvolvimento dogmático foram por fim resumidos e unidos por João Damasceno em sua Fonte do conhecimento: primeiro um esboço da filosofia como serva e instrumento da teologia; depois uma visão geral das heresias; por fim a Exposição exata da fé ortodoxa, a parte propriamente dogmática, na qual ele mesmo reconhece nada dar senão o que os pais ensinaram.

7. Uma história da teologia e da dogmática na igreja oriental depois de Damasceno ainda não existe. O período patrístico, em que se deu a grande formação do dogma, terminou aproximadamente com Justiniano I; todo o período do século VI ao IX é de transição, e nele a controvérsia iconoclasta, de 726 a 842, é o acontecimento característico. Relíquias e imagens já estavam em uso antes do século V, mas o dogma cristológico veio sustentá-las: a peculiaridade do cristianismo parecia estar em tornar o divino sensível e corporalmente presente, e a imagem passou logo de símbolo a portadora e órgão do santo. O paganismo voltava à igreja cristã. Mas a defesa das imagens estava justamente ligada à da liberdade da igreja, ao passo que o partido imperial, opondo-se a elas, queria também sujeitar a igreja ao Estado e deixar ao imperador o estabelecimento do dogma eclesiástico. Na veneração das imagens toda a ortodoxia se recolheu: no sensível se quer possuir e fruir o divino. João Damasceno foi um dos mais poderosos defensores dessa veneração, que põe na mais estreita ligação com a encarnação de Deus em Cristo. A justificação dogmática da veneração das imagens foi o último trabalho da igreja no Oriente.

Entra então o período bizantino, do século IX à tomada de Constantinopla pelos turcos, em 1453: é um tempo de repouso, de impotência produtiva. A igreja grega é a da ortodoxia — apenas conserva —, e a dogmática de Damasceno é até hoje norma. Depois de 1453 a igreja grega no Oriente teria sido completamente destruída, ou se teria encolhido numa seita, se não houvesse encontrado apoio no império russo, cristianizado no século X, que adotou a fé greco-ortodoxa inteira e sem crítica. Da literatura teológica posterior sabemos ainda muito menos do que do período anterior; mas não se pode resumir a história dessa literatura numa só palavra — petrificação, ortodoxismo. O centro de gravidade da igreja grega deslocou-se para a Rússia, e a Rússia é ainda jovem, não tem ainda passado e só agora emerge: sua vida literária e erudita apenas começou.

C. A dogmática na Igreja latina, romana.

8. Desde o começo a igreja e a teologia no Ocidente trazem um caráter próprio. No Oriente o pensamento dominante na dogmática é que o homem, pelo pecado, está sujeito à corrupção e é agora liberto da morte pelo próprio Deus em Cristo e feito participante da vida, da imortalidade, da natureza divina: as ideias de substância, essência e natureza ocupam ali o primeiro plano e favorecem a imobilidade e o repouso, tanto na doutrina quanto na vida. No Ocidente, ao contrário, a ênfase recai sobre a relação em que o homem está para com Deus — e essa relação é a de um culpado diante de um Deus justo, cujos mandamentos transgrediu; Cristo, porém, por sua obra adquiriu a graça de Deus, o perdão dos pecados, a força para guardar a lei, e isso impele a uma vida ativa, à obediência e à submissão. No Oriente prende-se sobretudo a João, no Ocidente a Paulo. Lá o centro de gravidade está na encarnação, aqui na morte de Cristo; lá a pessoa, aqui a obra de Cristo em primeiro plano; lá importa antes de tudo a unidade de ambas as naturezas em Cristo, aqui a distinção de ambas e a posição mediadora que Cristo ocupa entre Deus e o homem. Lá governa o elemento místico e litúrgico, aqui o jurídico e político.

Essa distinção está presente desde o começo; a ruptura era questão de tempo. Com a ascensão de Constantinopla começou a luta aberta. Constantinopla não podia apontar origem apostólica e derivava toda a sua importância da política, da corte imperial; contentou-se com um lugar ao lado de Roma, a primazia de honra depois do bispo de Roma "por ser ela a nova Roma". O Oriente queria uma igreja, sim, mas em duas metades, com dois imperadores, duas capitais, dois bispos de igual dignidade. A igreja grega chama a si mesma a ortodoxa: considera-se de posse plena da verdade, repousa e frui; mas chama-se também anatólica: liga-se a uma terra determinada e com isso se contenta. Muito diverso foi com Roma, que não se manteve como cidade política ao lado de Constantinopla, mas se colocou como sedes apostolica muito acima dela. Roma representava e defendia um interesse religioso; cedo baseou suas pretensões em Mateus 16.18 e exigiu uma posição universal, católica. Há por isso na igreja ocidental uma tendência agressiva, conquistadora do mundo. Essa dupla direção afastou Oriente e Ocidente, e quando a isso vieram somar-se diferenças de costumes, de ritos e sobretudo na confissão do filioque, o cisma consumou-se formalmente em 1054.

Contudo, em muitos respeitos o Ocidente dependia do Oriente. Ali fora fundada primeiro a igreja, ali apareceram os Pais Apostólicos e os apologistas, ali se travou a luta contra o gnosticismo, ali se estabeleceram nos concílios os dogmas teológicos e cristológicos; os concílios ecumênicos, de 325 até meados do século IX, foram todos realizados no Oriente e reconhecidos também pela igreja ocidental. Os fundamentos objetivos da doutrina eclesiástica são os mesmos no Oriente e no Ocidente. Desde a segunda metade do século II a teologia oriental penetrou também no Ocidente: Vitorino Retórico, Hilário, Ambrósio, Jerônimo e Rufino transferiram para lá o mundo de pensamento teológico do Oriente, e a exegese do Antigo Testamento, a teologia platônica, o monasticismo e o ideal da virgindade entraram no Ocidente e ali se casaram com o espírito ocidental.

9. Todo esse desenvolvimento dogmático do Oriente e do Ocidente culmina em Agostinho. A doutrina da Trindade e a cristologia dos orientais; a doutrina do homem, do pecado, da graça, da fé, da satisfação e do mérito de Tertuliano e Ambrósio; o neoplatonismo de Vitorino; a doutrina de Cipriano sobre a igreja e o sacramento; o ideal monástico de Jerônimo — tudo isso foi assumido por Agostinho e por ele, em sua rica experiência de vida, feito propriedade espiritual sua.

Um sistema teológico e dogmático Agostinho não forneceu. A matéria que lhe aflui de todos os lados, da Escritura, da tradição, da filosofia, e que ele amplia por sua rica personalidade, não se deixava abarcar de uma só vez nem sistematizar; o principal que produziu nesse sentido é seu Enchiridion sobre a fé, a esperança e o amor. Mas sua doutrina não é isenta de contradições, sobretudo entre sua doutrina da igreja e sua doutrina da graça, contradições que, como Reuter mostrou, não se deixam reconciliar num sistema. E contudo não houve pai da igreja que tenha pensado tão profundamente todos os problemas teológicos e lutado tanto por chegar à unidade: foi o primeiro que claramente tentou dar-se conta de todas aquelas questões teológicas que mais tarde seriam tratadas nos prolegômenos da dogmática, e que penetram até os últimos problemas psicológicos e noéticos.

O ponto fixo de que parte é o homem, sua autoconsciência, seu anseio inextirpável e sua necessidade de verdade, de felicidade e do bem, que são todos um. Esse ponto de partida é certo e confiável — contra os céticos —, porque o próprio duvidar ainda pressupõe a fé na verdade, e a autoconsciência é o fundamento último da verdade. Ele admite dois órgãos de conhecimento, o sentido e o intelecto, mas o conhecimento obtido pelo segundo supera de longe o do primeiro: o sensível não é a verdade mesma, é apenas uma imagem dela; a verdade eterna e imutável só se encontra pelo pensar. Ordinariamente não busca o caminho da verdade fora de nós, pela natureza, e sim pelo próprio espírito do homem, onde encontra, na razão comum a todos, verdades eternas e imutáveis, que por sua vez remetem a Deus e nele se resumem: a verdade suprema, o ser supremo, o único bem, aeterna ratio, principium universorum. Porque Deus é a plena verdade, o ser, o bem, o próprio belo, só nele há repouso para o homem, para seu pensar e seu querer. Conhecimento de si e conhecimento de Deus são os dois polos entre os quais se move todo o seu pensamento. Deum et animam scire cupio! Deus é o sol dos espíritos: não vemos nem conhecemos verdade alguma senão em sua luz e por ela.

Mas a filosofia é, ainda assim, insuficiente — não só pela incapacidade da razão de achar o caminho da verdade, mas sobretudo porque a soberba lhe barra o passo, e a humildade é o único caminho para a vida. Há por isso ainda outro caminho para a verdade: a autoridade, a fé, que pressupõe de um lado algum conhecimento, mas de outro busca o conhecimento e aspira ao entendimento. Deus não é para ele o ser abstrato e sem predicados, mas o Deus vivo, a verdade suprema e o bem supremo, e portanto a única e plena satisfação do coração do homem. Todo o pensamento de Agostinho é religioso, teológico: ele vê tudo em Deus. Nessa luz vê também o mundo, que de um lado é um não-ser, uma imagem, perecível, mas de outro, como criação de Deus, uma obra de arte, criada segundo as ideias na consciência de Deus e formando uma unidade que contém em si a mais rica diversidade. É um cosmos, assente em ideia e número, ordem e medida, mantido coeso por uma vontade e uma razão, em que os milagres são apenas o que é contrário à natureza conhecida, e em que o pecado é apenas uma privação, é compensado pela pena e contribui também para a beleza e a harmonia do todo. Agostinho procura inserir o mal na ordem do todo, mas com isso não o desculpa: ele põe o fim das coisas não no bem ético, mas em que a criação seja e se torne cada vez mais uma revelação harmoniosa de todas as perfeições de Deus, e a esse fim também o pecado é feito servir pela vontade de Deus.

Sabe-se, além disso, quão profunda e seriamente Agostinho concebeu o pecado. Nondum considerasti, quanti ponderis sit peccatum. O homem busca a Deus e dele tem necessidade, e não pode nem quer vir a ele; no homem só resta de bom que ele é. A humanidade é uma massa perditionis. O pecado é acima de tudo soberba na alma e concupiscência no corpo; foi em Adão o ato de todos nós e por isso se tornou a sorte de todos nós; é carência de Deus, privação do bem, não apenas um ato mas um estado, natureza viciada, corrupção, um non posse non peccare. As virtudes dos pagãos são vícios esplêndidos. A libertação desse estado só existe pela graça, que já toma seu começo na predestinação, que se revela objetivamente na pessoa e na obra de Cristo, mas que também deve vir subjetivamente a nós como graça interna e infundir em nós fé e amor.

Mas essa graça, em Agostinho, opera somente dentro dos limites da igreja visível. Esta é nele instituição de salvação, dispensadora da graça, sede da autoridade, garantia da Escritura, o próprio reino de Deus; a igreja é a mãe dos crentes. A doutrina da predestinação e da graça não se deixa conciliar com esse conceito de igreja e de sacramento: multi qui foris videntur intus sunt et multi qui intus videntur foris sunt — há ovelhas fora e lobos dentro do aprisco. Agostinho ensinou também a perseverança dos santos, mas não ousou admitir a certeza subjetiva dela. E precisamente por essa concepção de igreja e de sacramento, a fé e o perdão não puderam vir ao seu direito em sua teologia: fé e amor, perdão e santificação não são claramente distinguidos, e é como se a fé e o perdão fossem apenas provisórios, pois Agostinho passa deles logo ao amor, à santificação, às boas obras. A comunhão com Deus torna-se assim resultado de um processo que a fé, o amor e as boas obras gradualmente produzem; a bem-aventurança, a visão e a fruição de Deus tornam-se de novo fruto do mérito, e a ascese um dos meios de alcançar esse fim.

Assim Agostinho se tornou da maior importância para a dogmática posterior. Ele domina os séculos seguintes; toda reforma volta a ele e a Paulo; em cada dogma encontrou uma fórmula que é adotada e repetida por todos. Sua influência estende-se a todas as igrejas, direções e seitas: Roma apela para ele em sua doutrina da igreja e da autoridade, a Reforma sentiu-se aparentada a ele na doutrina da predestinação e da graça, a escolástica construiu sobre a agudeza de seu intelecto, a mística achou matéria em seu neoplatonismo. Agostinho não pertence a uma igreja, mas a todas as igrejas juntas: é Doctor universalis. E por seu estilo belo e encantador, por sua expressão fina, altamente individual e no entanto universalmente humana, ele é, mais que qualquer outro pai da igreja, ainda hoje fruível: é o mais cristão e o mais moderno de todos os pais, o que de todos está mais perto de nós. Substituiu a visão de mundo estética pela ética, a clássica pela cristã. Nossos melhores, mais profundos e mais ricos pensamentos em dogmática devemos a ele. Agostinho foi o dogmático da igreja cristã.

10. O agostinianismo foi por mais de um século objeto de renhida luta. Encontrou oposição não só nos pelagianos propriamente ditos, mas também em muitos monges da Gália, entre os quais João Cassiano. O sínodo de Orange, em 529, deu certa decisão da luta em favor de Agostinho, mas não impediu que as ideias semipelagianas fossem ganhando cada vez mais entrada: a graça preveniente foi aceita, mas a graça irresistível e a predestinação particular não foram decididamente aceitas. No que se segue, pouco restou do agostinianismo.

O papa Gregório Magno nada produziu de novo, mas apropriou-se das ideias dos doutores anteriores e as elaborou de múltiplos modos para a vida. Sua direção é prática e ao mesmo tempo místico-alegórica. Não formou sistema; simplesmente conservou o adquirido, tornou os dogmas prontos para o clero e o leigo e, acima de tudo, esquematizou os vários mediadores e meios — anjos, santos, Cristo, esmolas, missa pelas almas, purgatório, penitência — que tornam possível libertar das penas do pecado a vontade enfraquecida do homem. Sancionou a religião legal e externa da igreja romana e deu ao catolicismo medieval seu tipo próprio: é a pedra de fecho do velho e a pedra fundamental do novo mundo. Ao popularizar os dogmas dos pais tornou a doutrina da igreja praticamente utilizável para os incultos germanos pagãos, e promoveu a superstição, o ascetismo e a justiça pelas obras. Boécio, por suas traduções e explicações da lógica de Aristóteles, introduziu entre os germanos o conhecimento e o uso da filosofia grega; e Gregório transferiu-lhes a teologia da igreja.

Na ausência de toda cultura e em meio à inquietação das migrações dos povos, não podia haver, no primeiro período, vida científica alguma entre os povos germânicos. Um dos primeiros dogmáticos é Isidoro de Sevilha, que transfere a erudição clássica e patrística ao seu povo: não é original, mas dá extratos de obras pagãs e cristãs, e seus Três livros de sentenças, excerptados sobretudo de Agostinho e de Gregório, foram modelo para os coletores medievais de sentenças — um compêndio que entrega o capital teológico dos séculos anteriores ao povo germânico. Mas não se chegou a uma elaboração independente: o colecionar diligente e a reprodução não independente permanecem os traços característicos do período, que começa no século VII e só termina com as cruzadas; Agostinho e Gregório eram as autoridades. Merece menção especial João Escoto Erígena, que não é o pai da escolástica, mas da teologia especulativa. Alinha-se ao conhecimento de Orígenes e à mística do Pseudo-Dionísio, e seu pensamento fundamental é a doutrina neoplatônica da emanação. Diz primeiro que teologia e filosofia são propriamente uma só: a reta razão e a verdadeira autoridade não contendem; a fé tem sua verdade, como teologia afirmativa, na Escritura e na tradição, mas a razão, como teologia negativa, despe essa verdade de seus invólucros e nela rastreia a ideia. Assim ele transforma a verdade dogmática num processo cósmico e teogônico.

11. Depois do século X, o saeculum obscurum, uma vida nova desperta por toda parte. Do mosteiro de Cluny procede uma reforma religiosa, que continua nas ordens mendicantes; a piedade é concebida como seguimento e imitação da vida de Jesus; as cruzadas trazem ideias novas e alargam o horizonte; o poder dos papas cresce e põe como ideal nada menos que o domínio do mundo. A erudição recebe nas universidades um viveiro próprio e entra na teologia como escolástica.

Theologia scholastica, em distinção da theologia positiva, que apresenta os dogmas em forma simples e tética, indica que a matéria dogmática é elaborada segundo um método científico usual nas escolas. A escolástica não é em si outra coisa senão teologia científica. Ela começa onde a teologia positiva acaba: esta se satisfaz quando exprimiu e provou os dogmas; a teologia escolástica parte desses dogmas como de seus principia e tenta, a partir daí, rastrear pelo raciocínio a coerência dos dogmas, penetrar mais fundo no conhecimento da verdade revelada e defendê-la contra toda oposição.

Na Idade Média, porém, a escolástica adquiriu um caráter determinado que a pôs em descrédito. Em primeiro lugar, as coisas iam muito mal com o estudo das fontes. A observação não era negada em teoria como princípio do conhecimento, mas de fato entregava-se à tradição e pensava-se que as gerações anteriores já a haviam aplicado suficientemente e a haviam consignado por inteiro nos livros; física, medicina, psicologia — tudo era estudado a partir de livros. Em teologia a matéria estava toda diante dos olhos na Escritura, mas sobretudo na tradição, nos pais da igreja e nos concílios, e a escolástica não se punha crítica diante disso, mas infantilmente crente: a fé era o ponto de partida da escolástica. Da Escritura, nisso, muitas vezes não se aproveitava muito — hebraico e grego não se conheciam, o senso gramatical e histórico faltava quase por completo, e a matéria se tirava principalmente dos pais.

A isso veio somar-se, em segundo lugar, que o pensamento foi sendo gradualmente treinado pelos escritos lógicos de Aristóteles para processar dialética e sistematicamente essa matéria dogmática. Dessa filosofia tomou-se emprestado o método dialético, mas ainda toda sorte de problemas e questões — sobre a relação de fé e razão, sobre a realidade dos conceitos gerais, sobre os atributos de Deus, os milagres, a criação desde a eternidade, a alma. Toda espécie de matéria cosmológica, físico-científica, psicológica e filosófica foi assim absorvida pela dogmática, que deixou de ser doutrina da fé e tornou-se um sistema de filosofia, uma enciclopédia da erudição, em que a religião muitas vezes saía perdendo.

E, finalmente, todo esse sistema era apresentado numa forma que com o tempo deu lugar a sérios receios. A matéria era elaborada tão dialeticamente, esmiuçada com tal sutileza e tratada tão juridicamente que a ligação com a vida religiosa da congregação se rompeu por inteiro. A forma de questionário, em que tudo era vazado, promovia a dúvida e muitas vezes fazia a autoridade e a razão se desligarem por completo e se oporem hostilmente: mais de uma vez a causa de um dogma parece de todo perdida, e um simples apelo a um texto, a um pai da igreja, torna tudo bem de novo — fica, ainda assim, a impressão de que as coisas vão sem esperança com o dogma. Também a língua a longo prazo não era apta a satisfazer: o latim bárbaro que se escrevia era prova de que se pensava independentemente e se formavam livremente as palavras necessárias às próprias ideias, mas não podia bastar tão logo despertasse de novo o senso do clássico.

12. A escolástica procede em três períodos, uma aetas vetus, media e nova. Começa com Anselmo, que ainda vive na ingênua confiança de que a fé pode ser elevada a conhecimento, e o tenta para a existência de Deus em seu Monologium e para a encarnação e a satisfação em seu Cur Deus homo; não o faz ainda na forma aristotélico-escolástica, mas a especulação escolástica toma nele seu começo. Lombardo, em seus quatro livros de Sentenças, deu não alguns tratados, mas um manual dogmático e ético completo: forneceu o texto para a teologia escolástica. Alexandre de Hales veste seus pensamentos em forma dialética e silogística estrita, e com isso o método escolástico ficou estabelecido de uma vez por todas — logo a filosofia de Aristóteles, embora modificada aqui e ali, foi tida como a melhor defesa da doutrina eclesiástica. Do modo mais completo, segundo esse método, a dogmática foi elaborada por Alberto Magno, Tomás de Aquino e Boaventura, que puseram a escolástica em honra, asseguraram à teologia um lugar de honra entre as ciências e trataram com extraordinária força de pensamento os problemas mais profundos.

Mas a escolástica não conseguiu manter-se naquela altura. Com Duns Escoto a confiança já está abalada: ele rejeita o nominalismo, mas combate Tomás em toda parte onde ousa e pode — sobre a cognoscibilidade de Deus, a distinção nos atributos divinos, o pecado original, os méritos de Cristo e sobretudo a imaculada conceição de Maria. Escoto é ainda realista, mas é também cético e põe teologia e filosofia lado a lado: a filosofia não alcança Deus, a teologia repousa somente sobre a autoridade, sobre a revelação. Mas foi sobretudo o nominalismo que contribuiu para o declínio da escolástica, ganhando terreno nos séculos XIV e XV. Guilherme de Occam atacou tanto a escola de Tomás quanto a de Escoto e comprazia-se em mostrar a incerteza da teologia: existência, unidade e onipotência de Deus, finitude do mundo, imaterialidade da alma, necessidade da revelação — tudo é indemonstrável; não há verdades de razão, tudo é apenas porque Deus assim o quer, e Deus podia tornar-se homem, mas podia igualmente tornar-se pedra. Platonismo e agostinianismo desaparecem da teologia; tudo se torna arbítrio; a teologia perece no ceticismo. Ainda que nas escolas o realismo em geral permanecesse dominante, não tinha já força criadora alguma: a forma tornou-se mais rígida, a língua mais bárbara, o método mais capcioso; a sutileza substituiu a solidez, e a dogmática degenerou em disputa sem fim, até Gabriel Biel, o último escolástico.

13. Uma forma especial de escolástica foi a mística, antes tida como hostil à escolástica. Os místicos nunca combateram a teologia escolástica — homens como Hugo e Ricardo de São Vítor trataram várias partes da teologia segundo o mesmo método de Lombardo, e inversamente escolásticos como Alberto, Tomás e Boaventura deixaram muitos escritos místicos: a mística é mesmo incorporada à teologia escolástica, e de luta e antagonismo não se pode falar. Além disso, igreja e teologia sempre distinguiram entre mística verdadeira e falsa: Erígena, Eckhart e Böhme foram sempre condenados, ao passo que os escritos do Pseudo-Dionísio, de Alberto e de Boaventura foram sempre louvados e aprovados pela igreja romana. Há, pois, que distinguir entre mística ortodoxa e panteísta.

A primeira não se punha hostil à escolástica, mas dela era distinta. No método: a escolástica seguia o método analítico de Aristóteles e tentava, por raciocínio, subir das coisas finitas a Deus; a mística seguia o método sintético de Platão e tentava, a partir da contemplação superior que a alma alcançava pela graça, obter discernimento das verdades da fé. Na origem: a escolástica nasceu sobretudo do conhecimento dos escritos de Aristóteles e teve por objeto as sentenças de Lombardo; a mística nasceu sobretudo do conhecimento das obras do Pseudo-Dionísio. Na essência: a escolástica é a tentativa de obter, com auxílio da filosofia, conhecimento científico da verdade revelada; a teologia mística tinha por objeto a comunhão mística com Deus, concedida a alguns privilegiados por graça especial, e descrevia por que caminho a alma podia alcançá-la e que luz, a partir dessa comunhão, se podia derramar sobre as verdades da fé.

A mística nesse sentido está estreitissimamente ligada ao ideal monástico e parte do pressuposto de que há não só um conhecimento de Deus pelo intelecto, mas também uma experiência, um encontro, uma comunhão de Deus pelo sentimento. Na Idade Média prendeu-se especialmente a Agostinho, que primeiro sondara a profundeza da vida da alma, e ao Pseudo-Dionísio, que indicara os degraus pelos quais a alma podia subir da finitude ao Deus infinito: por exercícios práticos ou por reflexão teórica, a alma pode chegar já aqui na terra a um estado de contemplação ou de fruição de Deus. Mas era natural que a mística, pondo assim a ênfase na contemplação, começasse a menoscabar o conhecimento: na fruição do coração perdia-se a clareza da consciência, o valor do saber; caiu muitas vezes sob a influência do neoplatonismo e adquiriu, como em Eckhart, um traço panteísta.

14. Na Idade Média não faltaram protestos contra a direção em que igreja e teologia se desenvolviam. Apareceram várias seitas que renovaram os velhos erros maniqueus e gnósticos, e os valdenses entraram em conflito com Roma por sua doutrina da liberdade da pregação. Em muitos círculos houve um retorno a Agostinho e a Paulo: Bradwardine apresentou-se como corajoso defensor da graça de Deus; dele dependeu Wiclef, e de Wiclef, por sua vez, Hus. Mesmo dentro da igreja muitos se levantaram desejando uma reforma na cabeça e nos membros, e os concílios reformadores exprimiram-se nesse espírito — o de Constança declarou que um concílio ecumênico tem sua autoridade imediatamente de Cristo e que também o papa lhe é sujeito. Mas todas essas reformas tiveram pouco êxito: eram crítica do existente a partir do mesmo princípio.

E quando, no século XVI, surgiu a Reforma protestante, a igreja romana logo tomou posição contra ela. A teologia estava em descrédito, sobretudo pelo escárnio dos humanistas; olhava-se para a Idade Média como para um tempo de barbárie gótica, e também os piedosos desejavam mais simplicidade e verdade, um cristianismo mais prático. Era preciso, para os teólogos romanos, alguma coragem, e foi preciso também algum tempo, para chegarem à reflexão e retomarem o fio da escolástica. O concílio de Trento adotou várias decisões de reforma, mas tomou o mais fortemente possível partido contra a Reforma protestante: os dogmas sobre os quais havia disputa — tradição, pecado, livre-arbítrio, justificação, sacramentos — foram formulados aguda e claramente em sentido romano, mas as diferenças internas foram deixadas em paz, e a questão do papa e do concílio, do tomismo e do escotismo, não foi discutida.

Aos poucos a escolástica foi restaurada em sua honra, mas com modificações. Melchior Cano concede que muitos escolásticos se tornaram culpados de vários erros e desaprova esses defeitos, mas defende decididamente o método escolástico, que foi simplificado e despojado do exagero, mas de resto conservado. Uma segunda mudança consistiu em que Lombardo cede cada vez mais lugar a Tomás — mais puro, mais extenso, mais metódico, penetrando mais fundo nos dogmas —, de modo que ao fim do século XVI, na maioria das escolas, as Sentenças haviam sido substituídas pela Summa. Além disso, a nova escolástica aliou-se muito mais estreitamente à teologia positiva: na Idade Média a prova da verdade a partir da Escritura e da tradição fora quase inteiramente descuidada, e agora foi incorporada à dogmática e elaborada com grande erudição — Cano escreveu obra à parte sobre as fontes da prova, que chama loci theologici, e exegese, história da igreja, patrística e arqueologia tornam-se ciências próprias e independentes. E porque os novos escolásticos não gozavam do repouso dos teólogos medievais, mas eram atacados de todos os lados e tinham de defender a doutrina romana em todos os pontos, não restou lugar nem tempo para as questões sutis e as distinções capciosas: forma, método, língua e expressão tornaram-se mais simples. Mas, por mais que se mudasse e melhorasse, o espírito permaneceu o mesmo. Roma não se negou a si mesma e tampouco aprendeu alguma coisa da Reforma; o caráter próprio da doutrina romana veio à luz ainda mais claramente depois e por meio da Reforma: pelagianismo e curialismo desenvolveram-se ainda mais depois de Trento e alcançaram vitória completa.

15. A teologia neoescolástica nasceu na Espanha, cultivada sobretudo nas universidades de Salamanca, Alcalá e Coimbra, e a teologia tomista foi cultivada sobretudo pela ordem dos dominicanos. Mas foi especialmente pelos jesuítas que a teologia escolástica foi cultivada; mais que qualquer outra ordem contribuíram para seu renascimento e florescimento e, metodicamente e com talento extraordinário, tomaram nas mãos a Contrarreforma. Como polemista contra a doutrina dos protestantes destacou-se entre eles Belarmino, com suas Disputationes; ao lado dele estão Molina, autor da Concórdia do livre-arbítrio com os dons da graça, e Suárez, com seus comentários e disputas sobre Tomás.

Os jesuítas seguiam em geral Tomás, mas, em consequência de seu pelagianismo, dele se apartaram na doutrina do pecado, do livre-arbítrio e da graça, e isso foi causa de uma luta prolongada. Começou com Bayo, que expôs a doutrina de Agostinho sobre o pecado e a não liberdade da vontade e teve suas proposições condenadas em 1567. Reacendeu-se em 1588 pela obra de Molina, atacada pelos tomistas, especialmente por Bañez, que ensinava uma predeterminação física; a comissão nomeada em Roma foi dissolvida em 1607 sem tomar decisão. Em 1640, quando apareceu o Augustinus de Cornélio Jansênio, a faísca caiu de novo na pólvora, e a luta prosseguiu pelo século XVIII adentro; os homens de Port-Royal, entre eles Pascal, puseram-se do lado de Jansênio, mas erudição e eloquência de nada valeram: em várias bulas foram condenados o jansenismo, e nele Agostinho, e até mesmo Paulo. E assim como no que toca ao dogma triunfou o pelagianismo, assim na ética triunfou o probabilismo e nas coisas eclesiásticas o curialismo, isto é, o sistema papal.

16. Mas no início do século XVII o período de florescimento da neoescolástica havia passado. Por toda a Europa levantou-se o espírito racionalista, e a filosofia de Bacon e de Descartes deslocou a de Aristóteles; mesmo teólogos que aceitavam os dogmas escolásticos julgavam necessário outro método. Nas escolas a escolástica ainda permaneceu dominante por muito tempo, século XVIII adentro, e as diferentes direções — tomistas, escotistas, molinistas, agostinianos — continuaram lado a lado; mas a escolástica foi recuando cada vez mais para dentro das escolas. Surgem outros partidos, deístas e naturalistas, que ganham a dianteira e exercem influência sobre a teologia romana; a filosofia escolástica foi posta de lado na França por Descartes, na Alemanha por Leibniz e Wolff. As diferenças confessionais foram esquecidas: no lugar da luta contra os protestantes vem a luta contra livres-pensadores e incrédulos. A teologia cai inteiramente sob a influência da filosofia mutante, e a Aufklärung faz-se notar também em Roma.

17. Também neste século XIX o racionalismo continuou a princípio a prevalecer em muitos círculos romanos; na Alemanha havia um grande partido que desejava pôr a constituição e a doutrina da igreja romana em acordo com as exigências do tempo novo. Hermes tentou fazer a revelação e a autoridade repousarem sobre fundamentos racionais e deu à razão, na avaliação do que seja revelação, os mesmos direitos que lhe dera a filosofia wolffiana; seu hermesianismo foi condenado em 1835. Anton Günther associou-se à proposição de Hegel de que filosofia e teologia especulativa são propriamente uma só: não há dupla verdade nem dupla certeza, mas o crer é o começo e o pressuposto de todo saber, e toda fé, também a fé na revelação, pode passar a saber e ser elevada a evidência; foi condenado em 1857. Frohschammer tentou edificar a metafísica e a teologia não sobre a razão abstrata, mas sobre o fato concreto e histórico da consciência de Deus na humanidade, de modo que teologia e filosofia coincidem em conteúdo e diferem apenas em método; foi condenado, não se submeteu e continuou a lutar pela liberdade da ciência. Depois da revolução surgiu na França o tradicionalismo — a doutrina de que as verdades metafísicas mais altas não se encontram pela razão, mas se obtêm somente da revelação, que desde o primeiro homem se propaga na humanidade pela tradição e se conserva na língua —, e igualmente foi rejeitado o ontologismo, que derivava toda verdade superior da intuição imediata de Deus e das ideias.

Todas essas condenações provam que Roma, depois do racionalismo do século anterior, foi tomando cada vez mais consciência de si e chegou ao despertar. Houve também um reavivamento da igreja e da teologia romanas: o romantismo beneficiou Roma e fez muitos convertidos; o puseísmo, começado em Oxford em 1833, levou muitos à igreja romana e fortaleceu a direção alta e romanizante na igreja episcopal; e a teologia crente que surgiu na Alemanha prendeu-se a princípio a Schleiermacher, cuja doutrina da Escritura, da regeneração, da justificação e da igreja continha muitos elementos que os católicos romanos podiam empregar em seu proveito — assim aconteceu com Möhler, Kuhn e outros, que buscavam todos a mediação, uma reconciliação do crer e do saber, e eram demasiado liberais para com os protestantes.

Ainda assim, a longo prazo essa direção conciliadora não satisfez, e aos poucos surgiu a direção neoescolástica. Em 1814 a ordem dos jesuítas, abolida no século anterior, foi restaurada, e sua influência sobre o papado cresceu cada vez mais; a "liberdade da ciência" foi por ela combatida com toda a força. Todas as condenações acima resultaram na famosa encíclica de 8 de dezembro de 1864 e no Vaticano de 1870, em que foi pronunciada a infalibilidade do papa. O atual papa pôs o selo nessa direção em 1879, ao recomendar em sua encíclica Aeterni Patris o estudo de Tomás, e desde então há um esforço poderoso e geral para restaurar a autoridade de Tomás em todos os campos da ciência.

D. A dogmática na Igreja luterana.

18. Lutero não era uma natureza sistemática e não deixou uma dogmática. Tanto mais foi um espírito original e criador: redescobriu o cristianismo de Paulo e de Agostinho, entendeu de novo o Evangelho como gloriosa mensagem de graça e de perdão, e restaurou a religião dentro da religião. Com isso tornou-se fecundo para toda a teologia e para toda a dogmática: mesmo os velhos dogmas foram por ele assumidos, mas animados por vida religiosa nova.

Antes que a Reforma luterana tivesse uma confissão, já tinha uma dogmática nos Loci de Melanchthon, de 1521 — obra prática, simples, soteriológica, sem escolástica alguma, na verdade muito mais uma confissão do que uma dogmática, e nela a Reforma alemã encontrou por um tempo sua unidade. Mas já em 1526 Melanchthon recuou um pouco da confissão da predestinação estrita, e logo começou a desviar-se de Lutero também na doutrina da Ceia. Passaram então a opor-se dois partidos: de um lado os adeptos de Melanchthon, os filipistas; de outro os gnesioluteranos. As muitas disputas dogmáticas que surgiram nesse primeiro período entre os teólogos luteranos levaram por fim à Fórmula de Concórdia de 1580, e nela foram resolvidas — obra sobretudo de Martin Chemnitz, o mais destacado teólogo luterano do século.

19. Pronto assim o dogma luterano, ele foi tratado e desenvolvido no século XVII de maneira escolástica, por Johann Gerhard em seus Loci communes theologici e, em seu ponto alto, por Calóvio e Quenstedt. A força dessa dogmática está em sua objetividade: os dogmas estão prontos, o sujeito a eles se submete sem crítica; são apenas elaborados e aplicados exegética, histórica, polêmica, escolástica e praticamente.

Mas já no século XVII surgiu uma reação contra esse método. Georg Calixto chegou, por seu estudo de Aristóteles, por seu conhecimento de teólogos romanos e reformados e por sua aversão à ortodoxia escolástica, a uma teologia moderada e irênica: defendeu uma separação mais aguda de filosofia e teologia e voltou ao cristianismo originário dos quatro primeiros séculos, a fim de buscar, no que é comum a todas as confissões cristãs, uma união de luteranos, reformados e católicos romanos.

20. Calixto encontrou naturalmente muita oposição com seu sincretismo. Mas o século da objetividade havia passado. No século XVIII o sujeito se afirma e se levanta contra o poder do objetivo. No pietismo, de 1700 a 1730, a piedade subjetiva torna-se ponto de partida, e o centro de gravidade desloca-se do objeto para o sujeito; Spener, o pai do pietismo, exerceu por sua pessoa e por suas obras uma influência enorme. Naturalmente a ortodoxia agiu com muita hostilidade contra esse pietismo, mas o tempo da ortodoxia havia passado: entre 1730 e 1760 ela entra em aliança com o pietismo e passa a uma direção afetivo-piedosa, que põe a ênfase na prática da fé, é avessa à sutileza escolástica e dedica sobretudo suas energias a investigações históricas eruditas.

Aparentado ao pietismo é o herrnhutismo, que igualmente foi uma reação do sentimento contra a ortodoxia intelectual. Mas, enquanto o pietismo quer conduzir à conversão por uma luta de penitência, o herrnhutismo procura consegui-lo pela pregação do querido Salvador: não quer saber de lei alguma, mas só do Evangelho. A graça aqui afasta a natureza a tal ponto que Jesus chega a substituir o Pai — Jesus é o Criador, o Governador, o Pai, o Jeová do Antigo Testamento —, e sua pessoa e seu sofrimento foram por Zinzendorf concebidos tão patologicamente que a afinidade entre mística e sensualidade veio muito claramente à luz.

Paralelo ao pietismo corre o racionalismo. Ambos, cada um a seu modo, solaparam a autoridade da ortodoxia; ambos deslocam o centro de gravidade para o sujeito. O racionalismo nasceu pela filosofia de Descartes, Espinosa, Leibniz e Wolff, que fizeram da clareza matemática a norma da verdade. No essencial os teólogos dessa direção wolffiana eram ainda ortodoxos, mas o interesse religioso da verdade já não é sentido: a doutrina da fé torna-se objeto de erudição histórica e de demonstração intelectual.

21. Se essa direção racionalista é ainda alimentada de fora pelo deísmo inglês e pela incredulidade francesa, surge na Alemanha, depois de 1760, a Aufklärung, que busca fazer o são entendimento do homem individual dominar sobre toda verdade objetiva: em toda parte o positivo, o tradicional, o historicamente formado deve ceder ao racional, ao claramente inteligível. Wolff e os seus haviam ainda achado a revelação razoável, mas a Aufklärung era deísta e racionalista.

Contra esse racionalismo a ortodoxia assumiu a forma enfraquecida do supranaturalismo. Já não ousava tomar sua posição positiva e teticamente na fé, mas tinha em comum com seus adversários o fundamento da razão; apenas procurava, a partir dali, chegar à revelação, cuja necessidade, possibilidade e realidade defendia. O conteúdo da revelação, porém, foi-se nele encolhendo: os dogmas são tanto quanto possível libertados de tudo o que ofende e, por uma chamada representação bíblica, tornados prontos para a razão.

22. A peculiaridade da dogmática luterana neste século consiste em que ela está quase inteiramente sob a influência da filosofia. No século anterior havia, pelo racionalismo, perdido quase por completo seu princípio, seu método e seu conteúdo: tornara-se um compêndio de pensamentos racionais sobre Deus, a virtude e a imortalidade. Kant foi o primeiro que, por sua aguda crítica da razão pura, solapou inteiramente esse fundamento racional da dogmática; sua crítica foi desencorajadora, mesmo destrutiva, para o racionalismo e o eudemonismo da Aufklärung. Mas pela razão prática ele tenta recuperar o que perdeu pela razão pura: o imperativo categórico, a consciência moral, dá-nos o direito de postular a existência de Deus, a liberdade e a imortalidade. A dogmática é edificada sobre a moral, a religião torna-se meio para a virtude, Deus um socorro de emergência para o homem. O conteúdo da religião e da dogmática desenvolvido por Kant é puramente racionalista; ele está ainda inteiramente no século XVIII, o histórico e positivo não tem valor para ele, e só a religião autônoma da razão é a verdadeira religião. Mas por sua crítica da razão, por seu apelo à consciência moral, por sua concepção estrita da moralidade — que o levou até a falar do mal radical no homem e da necessidade de uma espécie de regeneração —, ele foi de grande influência sobre a teologia: não só a destinação moral do homem, mas também a impotência da razão para alcançar o supra-sensível tornou-se argumento para a necessidade da revelação, da fé e da autoridade.

23. Outra reação contra a Aufklärung veio do lado do sentimento. A sentimentalidade foi um traço característico da segunda metade do século XVIII: na Alemanha o sentimento, com homens como Hamann, Herder e Jacobi, afirmou seus direitos contra o frio racionalismo. Todos partem da experiência imediata, da força e da intimidade do ânimo: essa é a essência mais profunda, o humano no homem; sobre ela repousa a religião, dela brota a fé, aqui o homem percebe o divino. E daqui ele vê e descobre o divino em torno de si, na natureza, na história e sobretudo em Cristo, o mais humano de todos os homens. O conteúdo da fé diferia entre esses homens, mas o fundamento da fé é em todos o mesmo: sentimento, fé, inspiração, experiência — como quer que se chame — é em todos fundamento e norma da verdade. Jacobi, contra a crítica que avançava, apontou o sentido imediato, no qual amanhecia para o homem outra objetividade, mais alta, e chegou assim a um consequente dualismo de cabeça e coração, de filosofia e fé, de mundo sensível e mundo espiritual. Comum a todos é a separação entre crer e saber: a verdade exigida pelo sentimento ou pela consciência religiosa é inviolável para o intelecto, pertence a outro mundo, não observável.

24. Estreitamente aparentada a essa direção está a teologia de Schleiermacher. Em seus Discursos sobre a religião, de 1799, ele está inteiramente sob a influência do romantismo: a religião é sentimento, sentimento do universo, sentido do infinito, a direção do ânimo para o eterno. Schleiermacher toma assim também seu ponto de vista no sujeito, mas não no intelecto nem na vontade, e sim no sentimento. Deus é para ele a unidade do mundo, não objeto do pensamento — pois o pensamento se move sempre em oposições —, mas apenas fruível no sentimento; e essa fruição de Deus no sentimento é a religião. Mas a isso Schleiermacher liga logo a ideia de comunidade: da essência da religião brota o anseio pela comunidade, pela troca do que foi fruído, e as religiões diferem conforme o infinito determina diferentemente o sentimento e forma diferentemente a comunidade. Em sua Glaubenslehre, sua "doutrina da fé", o sentimento é mais precisamente definido como dependência absoluta, Deus concebido como causalidade absoluta e o cristianismo definido como religião ética, na qual tudo está em relação com a redenção por Cristo. Os dogmas são e permanecem, assim, descrições de estados subjetivos de ânimo, mas de estados determinados pela comunidade cristã e portanto pela pessoa de Cristo. Por essas três ideias — a autoconsciência imediata como fonte da religião, a comunidade como forma necessária de existência da religião, e a pessoa de Cristo como centro do cristianismo — Schleiermacher tornou-se de influência incalculável. Toda a teologia posterior depende dele; sua dogmática não foi assumida por ninguém, e no entanto ele fez sentir sua influência em todas as direções, liberal, mediadora, confessional, e em todas as igrejas, romana, luterana e reformada.

Os mais aparentados a ele são os chamados teólogos da mediação, entre os quais Rothe e Dorner. O traço distintivo e comum de todos esses homens é o ponto de partida subjetivo: não partem de uma autoridade externa, mas do ânimo, da consciência religiosa, e aceitam a verdade primeiro como conteúdo da experiência cristã subjetiva. Mas não param aí: querem ir além de Schleiermacher e, para isso, ligam seu ponto de partida religioso subjetivo à especulação hegeliana, trocando os elementos agnósticos de Schleiermacher pela doutrina hegeliana da cognoscibilidade do Absoluto. A verdade, aceita primeiro como conteúdo da experiência religiosa, tinha depois de ser compreendida pela via da especulação como necessária ao pensamento e legitimada diante do tribunal da filosofia. Assim se reconciliariam fé e ciência, igreja e cultura, autoridade da Escritura e crítica, visão de mundo antiga e moderna.

25. Esse fora também o intento de Hegel, o idealista mais consequente: o pensar produz o ser, e tudo o que é, é portanto lógico, racional. Mas ele liga esse pensamento ao do devir: a realização do pensamento no ser se dá gradualmente, de estágio em estágio, e no homem esse pensar chega primeiro à consciência. No estágio mais baixo, como espírito natural e finito, o homem se sente separado de Deus; na religião, porém, e especialmente na cristã, ele vê essa separação abolida: Deus e o homem são um. Essa unidade é a essência de toda religião, mas na religião ela não é expressa adequadamente — ali está envolta em formas de representação e de sentimento. Só na filosofia a ideia chega a seu conceito adequado: ela é o saber absoluto, o saber que a humanidade tem de Deus, o saber que Deus tem de si mesmo. Segundo esses pensamentos Hegel procurou explicar todos os dogmas cristãos.

Muitos creram na reconciliação hegeliana de teologia e filosofia, e a chamada ala direita reelaborou os dogmas em seu espírito. Mas aos poucos veio a público que perigo se ocultava na filosofia hegeliana para os dogmas cristãos. Feuerbach, Strauss e Bruno Bauer tiraram as consequências e abandonaram a representação, que é a veste da religião, para reter apenas o conceito abstrato. Strauss via nas narrativas evangélicas condensações simbólicas inconscientes da verdade ideal de que o Infinito se derrama no finito — não porém num único homem, mas na humanidade: esta é o verdadeiro filho de Deus, o Cristo ideal; e em sua Glaubenslehre tenta mostrar que a história de cada dogma é ao mesmo tempo sua crítica e sua dissolução. Religião e filosofia diferem na forma, mas por isso também no conteúdo: a filosofia substitui a religião. Os neo-hegelianos, Biedermann e Pfleiderer, tornaram-se mais cautelosos, mas assumiram de Hegel que o pensar está acima da consciência religiosa e tem por tarefa despir a representação religiosa de sua forma temporal e sensível e apresentá-la em seu núcleo ideal.

26. Enquanto a filosofia de Hegel levava assim à rejeição do cristianismo, tornou-se sabido, sobretudo a partir de 1830, que Schelling havia gradualmente abandonado o sistema da identidade e desenvolvia agora uma filosofia positiva, na qual não a necessidade mas a liberdade prevalecia e na qual a vontade e o ato tomavam o lugar do processo lógico. Schelling chegou aos poucos à convicção de que há ainda outro ser e outra vida, mais profundos que os do entendimento lógico: os da vontade, do ato, da liberdade. Mas toda vida é devir, uma interação de opostos — assim é em Deus e assim é no mundo: em Deus há primeiro o fundo escuro da natureza, depois o entendimento, e de ambos nasce a vontade; no mundo há primeiro o caos, depois o espírito, em seguida o cosmos; e assim na religião há primeiro o impulso natural no paganismo, depois a Palavra ou a Luz em Cristo, e por fim o ser de Deus em tudo.

A teosofia, a que Schelling ligou essas ideias, sempre se ocupa de dois problemas: a transição entre Deus e mundo e a transição entre alma e corpo. O primeiro é resolvido buscando-se o fundamento do mundo na natureza de Deus e identificando-se, ou pelo menos paralelizando-se, a teogonia, o processo trinitário em Deus, com a cosmogonia: o próprio Deus só chega ao pleno desdobramento de sua essência no processo do mundo e por ele. O segundo é resolvido pela ideia da corporeidade espiritual: o espiritual, Deus, a alma, não é em sentido estrito incorpóreo — não é material, mas supramaterial —, e assim o espírito tem por sua vez a tarefa de espiritualizar o corpo, o mundo, cuja materialidade grosseira é consequência do pecado. Essa especulação teosófica encontrou larga aceitação na teologia.

27. Era natural que se levantasse, do lado da ortodoxia eclesiástica, resistência a essa múltipla mistura de teologia e filosofia: à teologia da mediação tinha de seguir-se uma da separação. Velhos luteranos, neoluteranos como Hengstenberg, Philippi e Hofmann e homens da União positiva como Frank trabalharam na restauração da velha teologia luterana. Mas também eles eram filhos de seu tempo. O pietismo continuou a atuar em vários; outros não estavam livres, em sua concepção de igreja, sacramento e ofício, de exagero romano; e os teólogos positivos do presente situam-se mais livremente diante da confissão e se desviam em pontos importantes — cristologia, satisfação, Escritura — da velha dogmática luterana. Mesmo um luterano tão ortodoxo como Philippi parte, como Hofmann e Frank, da consciência subjetiva de fé, e assim tomou de empréstimo a Schleiermacher seu ponto de partida.

Ao lado desses teólogos confessionais estão os teólogos bíblicos, entre os quais Beck é o principal, que querem construir o sistema dogmático nem a partir da consciência crente nem a partir da confissão, mas só a partir da Escritura. Mas Beck concebia essa Escritura no sentido daquela teosofia mística que desde Oetinger se praticava na Suábia, como um sistema de verdades celestes que eram um decalque de poderes celestes; e chegou por isso muitas vezes a uma exegese bastante arbitrária e a um sistema que, embora profundo e original, não se pode absolver de um ascetismo e um individualismo unilaterais.

28. De outro lado ainda surgiu oposição à mistura de filosofia e teologia. Liebmann, em Kant e os epígonos, e F. A. Lange, em sua História do materialismo, deram, no domínio filosófico, a palavra de ordem: de volta a Kant. A especulação de Hegel e de Schelling não levara a nada; o entendimento tinha de tomar de novo consciência de sua finitude e não presumir ter conhecimento algum do supra-sensível. Pode restar, ao lado disso, lugar para a fé e para a imaginação, mas a razão está limitada ao que é sensivelmente perceptível.

Esse ponto de vista neokantiano foi adotado no domínio dogmático por Lipsius e por Ritschl — com diferença não pequena, porém: Lipsius reconhece, Ritschl nega, o elemento místico na religião; Lipsius considera a religião um poder próprio e independente, Ritschl a deixa absorver-se quase inteiramente no ético; Lipsius ainda tenta pôr as representações religiosas em acordo com os resultados da ciência, Ritschl separa teologia e ciência inteira e completamente. Mas ambos se alinham à aversão de Kant à metafísica e à sua doutrina da limitação da capacidade cognitiva humana.

Por isso Ritschl quer uma separação completa entre metafísica — filosofia, ciência — e religião — teologia. Religião e teologia não pronunciam juízos de ser, mas juízos de valor: nada dizem sobre a essência incognoscível das coisas, mas exprimem apenas o valor e a significação que elas têm para nós. Por tal separação Ritschl tenta assegurar à religião e à teologia um lugar próprio, inatacável para a ciência. A religião não repousa sobre a ciência, mas se funda num princípio próprio, na natureza moral do homem; tem um conteúdo próprio, a saber, não juízos de ser, mas juízos de valor, isto é, afirmações puramente religioso-éticas; e tem um fim próprio, a saber, tornar o homem, em sentido ético, independente do mundo. A teologia de Ritschl tem hoje grande influência, não só na Alemanha como muito além dela, e várias causas explicam sua ascensão: a aparente reconciliação de crer e saber, a concepção religioso-ética da religião, a ligação com a revelação de Deus em Cristo, com a Escritura e com a teologia de Lutero, a rejeição de toda teologia natural e da dogmática escolástica. Uma multidão de homens — Herrmann, Kaftan, Harnack e outros — a ela aderiram e aplicam seus princípios a todo o campo da ciência teológica. Contudo, a doutrina ritschliana da capacidade cognitiva, a separação completa de teologia e metafísica, a concepção moralista da religião, a restrição da religião a juízos de valor são insatisfatórias. Também essa direção não poderá, a longo prazo, satisfazer nem a cabeça nem o coração.

E. A dogmática na Igreja reformada.

29. Com toda a concordância, mesmo até e inclusive a confissão da predestinação, houve desde o começo uma diferença importante entre a Reforma alemã e a suíça. Pouco tempo durou até que viesse à luz que Lutero e Zuínglio eram de espírito diverso; em 1529 a paz foi assinada em Marburgo, mas só no papel. E quando Zuínglio caiu e Calvino, apesar de sua alta estima por Lutero, escolheu contudo, em princípio, o lado de Zuínglio, o cisma entre o protestantismo luterano e o reformado tornou-se um fato que já não se podia desfazer.

As investigações históricas deste século demonstraram claramente que há na base dessa distinção uma diferença de princípio: o reformado é teológico e o luterano antropológico. O reformado não fica parado na história, mas sobe até a ideia, até o decreto eterno de Deus; o luterano toma seu ponto de vista no meio da história da salvação e não tem necessidade de penetrar mais fundo no conselho de Deus. Com o reformado, portanto, a eleição é o cor ecclesiae; com os luteranos, a justificação é o articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae. Ali a primeira e principal questão é: como Deus chega à sua honra? aqui, ao contrário: como o homem chega à salvação? Ali a luta se dirige sobretudo contra o paganismo, a idolatria; aqui, contra o judaísmo, a justiça pelas obras. O reformado não tem repouso enquanto não rastreou tudo de volta ao decreto de Deus e não descobriu o porquê das coisas, e enquanto não fez tudo, para a frente, servir à honra de Deus; o luterano se satisfaz com o que e frui a salvação de que participa pela fé. Dessa diferença de princípio explicam-se facilmente as controvérsias dogmáticas na doutrina da imagem de Deus, do pecado original, da pessoa de Cristo, da ordem da salvação, dos sacramentos, do governo eclesiástico e da ética.

A história da dogmática reformada é muito mais difícil de descrever que a da luterana. A igreja reformada não está limitada a um país e a um povo, mas se expandiu em países diversos e entre povos diversos; o tipo reformado não está fixado numa confissão, mas achou expressão em numerosas confissões; o desenvolvimento dogmático foi na igreja reformada muito mais rico e mais multiforme que na luterana. E, por fim, a história da dogmática reformada foi muito menos praticada que a das outras igrejas: há aqui ainda um campo aberto à pesquisa.

30. A dogmática reformada começa com Zuínglio. Nele as ideias fundamentais já estão presentes: o ponto de partida teológico, a dependência absoluta do homem, a predestinação, a natureza humana de Cristo, a concepção espiritual de igreja e sacramento, a tendência ética e política da Reforma. Mas Zuínglio tem ainda muitas lacunas: por seu humanismo concebe o pecado e a reconciliação de modo demasiado superficial; por seu espiritualismo opõe abstratamente, de modo dualista, Deus e homem, sinal e coisa significada no sacramento; e não chega a um sistema minimamente arredondado e coerente. Zuínglio apenas desenhou as linhas gerais dentro das quais se moveriam depois as diferentes direções nas igrejas reformadas.

Só o espírito organizador e sistemático de Calvino deu à Reforma suíça sua doutrina delineada e sua organização firme. Sua teologia já estava fixada na primeira edição da Institutio, em 1536: há ampliação e desenvolvimento, mas não mudança. Calvino difere de Zuínglio em que bane todas as ideias filosóficas e humanistas e se alinha o mais estritamente possível à Escritura. Além disso, mantém melhor a objetividade da religião cristã, do pacto de Deus, da pessoa e da obra de Cristo, da Escritura, da igreja e do sacramento, e por isso resiste mais fortemente aos anabatistas. Supera ainda tanto a antítese luterana entre o espiritual e o mundano quanto a de Zuínglio entre carne e espírito, e é por isso rigorista, mas em nenhum aspecto ascético. Finalmente, traz unidade e sistema a seus pensamentos, coisa que nem Lutero nem Zuínglio conseguiram, e ao fazê-lo nunca esquece a ligação com a vida cristã. Calvino soube gradualmente ganhar toda a Suíça para si, também na questão da doutrina da Ceia e na da predestinação, e sua Institutio foi logo estudada em toda parte.

Da Suíça a teologia de Calvino difundiu-se na França, cuja Reforma ele se tornou a alma. Pelos emigrantes penetrou também nos Países Baixos, onde a Institutio já era traduzida em holandês em 1560 e onde o trabalho teológico consistiu principalmente em polêmica contra Roma e contra os anabatistas. O calvinismo encontrou aceitação também na Inglaterra e na Escócia, onde entrou em conflito não só com Roma, mas também com a Reforma empreendida de cima por Henrique VIII e Isabel: a teologia inglesa, até o início do século XVII, teve caráter decididamente calvinista, e mesmo a forma episcopal de governo era defendida não como a única verdadeira, mas só no interesse do bem-estar da igreja. Mas quando, a partir de 1567, os não conformistas se separaram, o conflito estendeu-se a todo o governo eclesiástico — o mais poderoso defensor da forma presbiteriana foi Thomas Cartwright —, e ao fim do século acrescentou-se ainda uma diferença de doutrina, pois o sentimento alto-eclesiástico e pelagiano prevaleceu cada vez mais. Na Escócia, ao contrário, o calvinismo foi introduzido com força por John Knox.

Na Alemanha a igreja e a teologia reformadas foram menos dependentes de Calvino: o Catecismo de Heidelberg e a teologia de Ursino e Olevianus mostram em muitos respeitos um caráter próprio. Explicar essa peculiaridade a partir de Melanchthon é a-histórico e foi suficientemente refutado; muito melhor a derivam do sucessor de Zuínglio em Zurique, Bullinger. Contudo, entre a teologia de Calvino e a de Bullinger não há diferença material alguma, mas apenas formal e metodológica: é a distinção entre o supra e o infralapsarianismo, entre o ponto de partida estritamente teológico e o federalista, distinção que sempre existiu nas igrejas reformadas e foi de ambos os lados reconhecida como reformada.

31. Já ao fim do século XVI surgiu o método escolástico na teologia reformada: o tratamento simples dos dogmas, como o encontramos em Calvino, não podia a longo prazo bastar. Especialmente Zanchius e Polanus, em seu Syntagma theologiae, conhecem excelentemente a teologia dos pais e dos escolásticos; de maneira escolástica a dogmática é então tratada nos Países Baixos por Maccovius, Gomarus e Voetius.

O método escolástico, porém, não encontrou de modo algum assentimento geral. Mas, mesmo onde se guardavam da terminologia filosófica e das questões escolásticas vãs, e se apresentava a verdade em forma mais simples, o século XVII foi ainda assim o século da objetividade: a matéria estava pronta, só era preciso ordená-la. A tradição tornou-se um poder — não só a Escritura, mas também a confissão, e até mesmo o tratamento dogmático, receberam autoridade inatacável e fizeram Camero queixar-se de que na doutrina não se podia desviar "dos que parecem ser colunas" sem ser perseguido.

Na Inglaterra, no século XVII, ganharam terreno a direção alta e a arminiana, que encontraram apoio nos Stuarts e na nobreza; de outro lado houve ainda muitos teólogos na igreja anglicana que defendiam o episcopalismo mas permaneciam fiéis ao calvinismo. O arminianismo teve na Inglaterra grande influência, e ao lado dele foi transferido da França também o amiraldismo; ambos acharam sua união na teoria neonomiana, que deu ocasião a uma luta importante e longa: os neonomianos punham o fundamento da justificação na fé, e diante deles estavam outros, chamados erradamente antinomianos, que o punham somente na justiça imputada de Cristo. De modo geral, porém, o centro de gravidade da teologia inglesa não estava no dogmático, mas nos estudos bíblicos, histórico-eclesiásticos e práticos. Mais rica e mais poderosa, proporcionalmente, foi a vida dogmática na Escócia, onde o calvinismo achara solo apropriado e foi desenvolvido em espírito estrito e positivo. Esse desenvolvimento positivo da dogmática reformada atinge em certo sentido seu ponto alto — e ao mesmo tempo seu ponto final — nos cânones de Dordt de 1618-19, na confissão e no catecismo de Westminster de 1646, no Consensus Helveticus de 1675 e nos artigos de Walcheren de 1693.

32. Mas já no século XVII estavam presentes os princípios que solaparam a teologia reformada e a levaram ao declínio. No século da Reforma não houve apenas uma reforma luterana e uma calvinista: ao lado delas apareceram outros dois partidos, os anabatistas e os socinianos, que precisamente na igreja e na teologia reformadas foram sempre de grande influência. Representam o elemento místico e o elemento racional na religião e na teologia.

O arminianismo, que já tivera seus precursores no século XVI, tornou-se no início do século XVII um poder na igreja e levantou-se contra a confissão da soberania absoluta de Deus nos conhecidos cinco pontos: predestinação, satisfação, corrupção do homem, conversão e perseverança.

O cartesianismo era em princípio uma emancipação completa de toda autoridade e de toda objetividade, e uma construção de todo o cosmos a partir do sujeito, a partir do pensamento: cogito, ergo sum. A rejeição de toda tradição e o método matemático, aparentemente certo, pelo qual Descartes concluía pela existência do mundo, de Deus e do espírito, agradaram a muitos, e Descartes ganhou muitos adeptos também entre os teólogos, que adotaram o cartesianismo e levaram o racionalismo para dentro da igreja. A relação de razão e revelação tornou-se então a questão principal: a razão se emancipa da revelação e tenta reconquistar sua independência.

A isso veio somar-se ainda o cocceianismo, aparentado ao cartesianismo no método e igualmente uma reação contra a teologia tradicional, com o qual por isso logo entrou em aliança. O que havia de novo em Coccejus não era sua doutrina do pacto, que já ocorre em Zuínglio, Bullinger e Olevianus, mas seu método federalista. Sua Summa doctrinae de foedere et testamento, de 1648, era uma dogmática bíblico-histórica, que fazia da Escritura não apenas princípio e norma, mas também objeto da dogmática, e opunha assim a teologia da Escritura à teologia da tradição, o pacto ao decreto, a história à ideia, o método antropológico ao teológico. O perigo desse método consistia em arrastar o eterno e imutável — a substantia foederis — para dentro da corrente do temporal e histórico — a oeconomia foederis — e assim transferir para o próprio Deus a ideia de devir. Mas muitos seguiram o método cocceiano, e a luta de voetianos e cocceianos prosseguiu século XVIII adentro e terminou de fato com a vitória do cocceianismo e do cartesianismo: a escolástica tivera seu tempo, o florescimento da filosofia aristotélica passara, a maioria das cátedras foi preenchida com cocceianos. Os manuais dogmáticos que agora vêm à luz são no essencial ainda ortodoxos, mas em geral de pequena extensão, evitando toda escolástica e desviando-se já, em muitos pontos, da apresentação antiga; surge a dúvida quanto à satisfação particular, à eleição, à geração do Filho, à trindade e ao pacto das obras. Os voetianos foram sendo empurrados para trás e recolheram-se ao silêncio, e ideias pietistas, labadistas e antinomianas penetraram em seus círculos.

33. E assim foi o curso da teologia em todas as igrejas reformadas. Na França a academia de Saumur tornou-se o centro de toda sorte de teses sensacionais. Amyraut, em seu Tratado da predestinação, fez da doutrina comum da vontade de sinal, da oferta séria e bem-intencionada da graça, um decreto separado, que precedia o da eleição; com isso pôs um fundamento remonstrante sob o edifício calvinista e correu o perigo de enfraquecer em incapacidade meramente moral a incapacidade do homem para crer. A luta teológica na França correu assim especialmente sobre a natureza da graça subjetiva: Camero limitou-a à iluminação do entendimento, Amyraut tornou universal a graça objetiva, Pajon ensinou a superfluidade de uma graça subjetiva especial. Deísmo e racionalismo estavam com isso preparados.

Na Inglaterra houve grande diversidade entre os não conformistas: os presbiterianos, depois do Sínodo de Westminster, declinaram em número e influência e tiveram de ceder lugar ao independentismo, cujo principal teólogo foi John Owen; e os batistas, que só a partir de 1633 começaram a formar congregações próprias, pouco fizeram para a dogmática, mas produziram pregadores poderosos, como John Bunyan. O período da guerra civil foi na Inglaterra, na esfera religiosa e teológica, um tempo da maior confusão: reinava um individualismo religioso, que no quakerismo atingiu seu ponto culminante — nele se completa a emancipação da tradição, da confissão e do vínculo eclesiástico, na medida em que cada crente é posto por si, mesmo desligado da Escritura, e possui em si mesmo, no Espírito, na luz interior, a fonte de sua vida e de seu conhecimento religiosos; tudo o que é objetivo — Escritura, Cristo, igreja, ofício, sacramento — é posto de lado.

Todas essas gerações individualistas prepararam o caminho para o deísmo. Quando, no século XVII, veio somar-se a confusão nas convicções religiosas, e toda a Inglaterra se dividiu em partidos e seitas, despertou em muitos o pensamento de que só naquilo que era comum a todos podia estar a essência da religião; o latitudinarismo achou aceitação e desembocou no deísmo. A fila dos deístas foi aberta por Herbert de Cherbury, que reduziu a essência da religião a cinco verdades — existência de Deus, veneração de Deus, virtude, arrependimento e retribuição —, sustentando que essa religião originária, verdadeira e pura fora de toda maneira falsificada pelos sacerdotes: esse foi o programa do deísmo. A partir dali empreendeu-se a luta contra a revelação: Locke, em A razoabilidade do cristianismo, atribuiu à razão a decisão sobre a revelação; Toland declarou que o cristianismo não contém apenas nada contra, mas também nada acima da razão; Tindal, em O cristianismo tão antigo quanto a criação, pôs de lado toda a revelação. O deísmo terminou em ceticismo, completado no domínio filosófico por Hume.

34. Por volta de 1750 o declínio da teologia reformada instalou-se em toda parte. Os elementos dissolventes, já presentes no século anterior, continuaram a operar e solaparam a dogmática. Depois que o cocceianismo alcançou a vitória neste país, veio, de 1740 a 1770, o período dos Tolerantes: o poder da verdade foi negado; da confissão recuou-se para a Escritura; doutrinas reformadas características — culpa herdada, pacto das obras, satisfação particular — foram abandonadas; sob forma bela e nome bíblico surgiram toda sorte de erros remonstrantes e socinianos. Os confessores da religião reformada quando muito ainda aquiescem no que existe, mas já não vivem nele nem falam a partir dele, e a velha dogmática tornou-se objeto de estudo histórico. Entre os poucos que de coração e alma se apegaram à velha doutrina reformada e a defenderam com talento ocupam o primeiro lugar Alexander Comrie e Nicolaus Holtius, que em seu Exame do projeto de tolerância tomaram a luta contra os Tolerantes. Mas desde 1770 a chamada neologia cresceu cada vez mais em influência: o deísmo inglês, a incredulidade francesa e o racionalismo alemão acharam aqui solo fértil, e a ortodoxia foi transportada ao século XIX na forma de um supranaturalismo não racionalista, mas racional, moderado e bíblico.

E assim se passou também em outros países. A França, no século XVIII, já não tinha teologia reformada própria: a revogação do edito de Nantes baniu do país as melhores forças. Na Suíça o Consensus Helveticus não pôde deter o racionalismo, e no século XVIII os esforços para pô-lo de lado foram coroados de bom êxito em Genebra, Basileia, Zurique e Berna; Osterwald forma a transição da ortodoxia do século XVII para o racionalismo do XVIII: queixa-se da ortodoxia morta e dos dogmas de fio fino, passa em silêncio por muitas doutrinas, por exemplo a eleição, e busca o reavivamento da moralidade — e a ortodoxia moderada por ele representada levou logo à heterodoxia decidida. Na Inglaterra a dogmática foi quase inteiramente tomada pelas questões sobre profecia, milagre e revelação, postas na ordem do dia pelo deísmo, e a apologética era muitas vezes de colorido racionalista. Na Escócia, a chamada controvérsia da Marrow transplantou para lá a luta neonomiana travada no século anterior na Inglaterra: os "teólogos da Marrow", entre os quais Thomas Boston era o principal, foram acusados de antinomianismo, sem que os acusadores se mantivessem livres do neonomianismo; e o neonomianismo foi a preparação para o racionalismo, que gradualmente penetrou também na teologia e na igreja da Escócia.

35. No início do século XIX a teologia reformada estava quase em toda parte em triste decadência. Sob a forma do supranaturalismo, essa direção queria ser racional, não racionalista: mantinha a revelação e argumentava sua necessidade, possibilidade e verdade por toda sorte de fundamentos racionais e históricos; queria ser bíblica e era anticonfessional, antifilosófica e anticalvinista; obteve uma dogmática deísta na teologia, pelagiana na antropologia, moralista na cristologia, colegialista na eclesiologia e eudemonista na escatologia.

Nas províncias do norte do país ela foi substituída, por volta de 1835, pela teologia de Groningen, que substituiu a ideia de revelação e de doutrina pela de educação, e assim incorporou um elemento ético na relação entre Deus e o homem: Deus não era aqui, em primeiro lugar, o Mestre, mas o grande Educador, que pela natureza e pela história, pela pessoa e pela igreja de Cristo, formava os homens como seus filhos em cristãos sábios e piedosos. A oposição que sofreu e seu desenvolvimento interior fizeram que tivesse de ceder lugar, por volta de 1850, à Teologia Moderna. Esta surgiu com Opzoomer, que aplicou à religião a filosofia empirista de Mill e Comte e chegou ao antissupranaturalismo; Scholten, em sua Doutrina da Igreja Reformada, deu por fim uma dogmática moderna sob bandeira reformada; e Kuenen apareceu como advogado da evolução no campo da Escritura do Antigo Testamento. Houve assim, no campo teológico, um desenvolvimento gradual rumo à incredulidade: a teologia moderna já não tem dogmática alguma. Contra essas direções negativas levantaram-se, porém, neste século, em nossa pátria, as direções positivas do Réveil e da secessão, da escola de Utrecht e da ética-irênica, e por fim do calvinismo, que se esforça por conquistar também teologicamente uma posição própria.

Na Alemanha a teologia reformada declinou cada vez mais. A igreja reformada havia conquistado ali largo território e sua teologia era praticada em Heidelberg, Marburgo, Bremen e Halle, e assim permaneceu até meados do século XVIII. Mas então veio a Aufklärung, em 1817 a União, em seguida a influência da filosofia de Kant e de Schleiermacher, e todas essas causas levaram a igreja e a teologia reformadas na Alemanha à ruína completa. É certo que no início deste século houve algum despertar também da consciência reformada, mas não foi bastante forte, e mesmo homens como Ebrard e Heppe causaram por seu melanchthonianismo grande dano à causa reformada. No presente já não há na Alemanha uma única universidade ou escola teológica, nem um único professor de teologia, de confissão reformada.

36. Na Suíça e na França veio um reavivamento pelo Réveil, transplantado para lá da Escócia. O Réveil foi um movimento espiritual poderoso, mas desde o início não eclesiástico e anticonfessional: colocou-se sobre um fundamento cristão geral e caracterizou-se ainda por seu caráter individualista, aristocrático, metodista e filantrópico; na Suíça pôs a ênfase especialmente em dois dogmas, a eleição e a inspiração. Mas Alexandre Vinet, que caiu sob a influência do Réveil, partiu teologicamente de outra ideia: o princípio vital de sua fé e de sua teologia era a harmonia entre o cristianismo e a consciência moral. Por isso foi levado a urgir tão fortemente a ligação de dogma e moral, o lado ético da verdade; e por isso chegou a seu sinergismo e à rejeição da eleição. Vinet, porém, manteve firmes até o fim as principais verdades do cristianismo; muito mais longe foi seu discípulo Scherer, que rompeu aos poucos com seu passado e terminou a vida em completa incredulidade. Desde então surgiu na França e na Suíça um protestantismo liberal, e puseram-se frente a frente uma direção liberal e uma evangélica, com uma mediadora entre elas; mas dentro da evangélica os princípios de Vinet continuaram a operar, apoiados mais tarde ainda pela influência de Ritschl. A luta entre elas corre especialmente sobre duas questões. A primeira diz respeito à autoridade em matéria de religião: se ela está na Escritura, em Cristo, ou na razão e na consciência. A segunda diz respeito à pessoa de Cristo: se ele é verdadeiramente Deus, ou se esvaziou por kenosis, ou é também apenas um homem, diferindo de nós em grau.

37. A Inglaterra religiosa, tal como hoje a conhecemos, é obra do metodismo. John Wesley não foi um teólogo erudito, mas um pregador poderoso, que individualizou o evangelho e fez dele uma questão de vida para cada homem. O metodismo que por ele surgiu não foi, em primeiro lugar, um desvio de um ou outro dos Trinta e Nove Artigos, mas concentrou toda a verdade da religião em torno de dois centros: a experiência súbita e consciente da culpa e da graça, isto é, a conversão pessoal; e a revelação dessa vida nova numa forma inteiramente nova, consistindo em sair a converter outros, abster-se de vários adiáfora e ter por alcançável já nesta vida a perfeição cristã. Essa unilateralidade levou a que gradualmente vários dogmas fossem contestados, modificados ou tidos por de valor subordinado. Mas o metodismo exerceu influência incalculável sobre independentes, batistas, presbiterianos e anglicanos: Wesley foi o recriador do protestantismo inglês e americano, o pai da missão interna, o fundador do socialismo cristão.

O metodismo, porém, limitou-se no principal ao povo; nos círculos superiores, na política, na filosofia e nas letras, o frio liberalismo permaneceu dominante. Contra isso veio a reação do romantismo, que no terreno eclesiástico e teológico foi transplantada no movimento de Oxford, o qual fortaleceu consideravelmente o partido alto-eclesiástico e promoveu poderosamente a doutrina e o rito romanos na igreja anglicana. Ao lado do partido alto apareceu o partido largo, já preparado nos séculos XVII e XVIII pelo latitudinarismo, e que neste século recebeu excelentes representantes em Thomas Arnold e Maurice. Avessos ao metodismo do partido baixo, todos eles se empenharam de modo sério e nobre por uma reconciliação de cristianismo e cultura: a igreja devia tornar-se uma escola de educação do povo; a religião devia reconciliar-se com tudo o que é verdadeiro, bom e belo, onde quer que se encontre; e o cristianismo devia sobretudo revelar sua força na renovação moral da sociedade. A ascensão do ritualismo, as muitas seitas e direções, a miséria das camadas baixas da sociedade e sobretudo a Alta Crítica asseguraram ao partido largo a dianteira. Além de seu ponto de partida cristológico, que tudo concentra em torno da encarnação, essa direção se caracteriza por sua tendência unificadora: as diferenças eclesiásticas são apagadas ou apresentadas como de pouca importância, e muitos aspiram mesmo à união de todas as igrejas protestantes.

O calvinismo estrito perde terreno a cada dia; aqui e ali ainda se mantém, mas de um cultivo e de uma defesa eruditos já não se pode falar. Em contrapartida, a doutrina da evolução se difunde na Inglaterra a cada dia: depois que o deísmo já submetera os milagres, as profecias e a revelação a formidável crítica, sob a influência da doutrina da descendência de Darwin, do agnosticismo de Spencer, do empirismo de Stuart Mill e do materialismo de Huxley esse processo religioso de dissolução prosseguiu ainda mais. A crítica dos dogmas cristãos recebeu apoio inesperado e forte de Edwin Hatch, que explicou os dogmas pela ligação da filosofia pagã com o cristianismo originário. O unitarismo ganha gradualmente influência, e muitos romperam mesmo inteiramente com o cristianismo e buscam sua satisfação religiosa na teosofia budista ou na moralidade — como Matthew Arnold, que definiu a religião como moralidade tocada pela emoção e Deus como o poder eterno, fora de nós, que faz pela justiça.

38. Todas as igrejas foram sucessivamente transplantadas para a América e o Canadá, da Inglaterra e de outros países da Europa. Quase todas essas igrejas e direções eram de origem calvinista. De todos os movimentos religiosos, o calvinismo foi o mais poderoso na América: não está limitado a uma ou outra igreja, mas, sob toda sorte de modificações, é o elemento animador das igrejas congregacional, batista, presbiteriana, reformada holandesa e alemã. De todos os lados foi trazido para a América e formou o caráter da Nova Inglaterra no período colonial. Há que distinguir, porém, entre o calvinismo puritano, vindo sobretudo da Inglaterra e que achou entrada na Nova Inglaterra, e o calvinismo presbiteriano, que da Escócia foi introduzido nos Estados do Sul, do Centro e do Oeste; ambas as formas tinham por base a confissão de Westminster, mas em ambas surgiu logo também uma luta entre uma escola velha e uma nova.

O primeiro e principal teólogo da Nova Inglaterra foi Jonathan Edwards, que uniu profunda força metafísica de pensamento a uma piedade séria. Em 1734 deu-se em sua congregação um despertar notável, e mais tarde ele repetidamente conduziu e defendeu tais reavivamentos. Teologicamente travou a luta especialmente contra o arminianismo, que penetrava na Nova Inglaterra; tentou fortalecer o calvinismo por suas especulações metafísicas e éticas, mas de fato o enfraqueceu por sua distinção entre incapacidade natural e moral. Tornou-se o pai dos edwardianos, dos "homens da nova teologia", que mantinham a doutrina calvinista da soberania de Deus e da eleição, mas uniam a isso a rejeição da culpa herdada e a universalidade da expiação, tal como os teólogos de Saumur na França; e com outros ainda o sistema de Edwards foi modificado em sentido pelagiano. O puritanismo abandonou cada vez mais os padrões de Dordt e de Westminster: no sínodo das igrejas congregacionais em St. Louis, em 1880, preparou-se uma nova confissão de doze artigos, em que as doutrinas reformadas características foram omitidas.

39. A teologia nas igrejas presbiterianas da América teve curso paralelo. Também aqui surgiu um cisma, não só entre os teólogos, entre as Luzes Velhas e as Luzes Novas, mas também nas igrejas. A Escola Velha achou apoio sobretudo no colégio de Princeton e ali foi representada por Charles Hodge, autor de uma Teologia sistemática. A chamada Teologia de Princeton é no principal uma reprodução do calvinismo do século XVII, tal como está fixado na confissão de Westminster e no Consensus Helveticus e elaborado sobretudo por Francisco Turretini em sua Teologia elêntica; o mesmo sistema é defendido pelos teólogos do Sul. Um dos mais jovens representantes da Escola Velha é W. G. T. Shedd; entre Hodge e Shedd há, porém, uma diferença notável, pois o primeiro é federalista e criacionista, o segundo realista e traducianista — ambos, contudo, concordam de novo em que interpretam a eleição de modo muito amplo e nela incluem também todas as crianças que morrem na infância.

As Luzes Novas desviaram-se da Escola Velha especialmente na matéria da culpa herdada e da satisfação particular, às quais se juntaram mais tarde a inspiração da Escritura e a escatologia. Veio a haver de novo um cisma nas igrejas, em 1837, mas em 1869 uniram-se outra vez, sobretudo pela influência do Union Theological Seminary de Nova York, onde a dogmática foi ensinada por Henry B. Smith, que buscou uma mediação entre a Escola Velha e a Nova no ponto de vista cristocêntrico. Outro professor do mesmo seminário, Charles Briggs, foi acusado de heterodoxia, por ter a razão como fonte, aceitar erros na Escritura e reconhecer a Alta Crítica, e foi condenado em 1893 pela Assembleia Geral.

Mas com isso a crise não está encerrada. As igrejas reformadas na América vivem um tempo difícil: os dogmas da infalibilidade da Escritura, da Trindade, da queda e da impotência do homem, da satisfação particular, da eleição e da reprovação são secretamente negados ou abertamente contestados. O presente não parece favorável ao florescimento da teologia reformada.

§ 6. O significado dos principia

1. Na filosofia de Platão e de Aristóteles a palavra princípio adquiriu o sentido de causa última das coisas. Aristóteles entende por princípios as primeiras coisas de uma série e, sobretudo, as primeiras causas, que não se derivam de nenhuma outra; sua definição: princípio é aquilo de que algo é, ou vem a ser, ou é conhecido. Tais causas ele admitiu em dois domínios, o do ser e o da consciência, a metafísica e a lógica. O ser das coisas ele derivou de quatro princípios: matéria, forma, princípio do movimento e fim. Mas admitiu causas últimas também na lógica. De tudo não se pode dar prova: as próprias provas, para não formarem um regresso ao infinito, devem partir de proposições que, sendo imediatamente certas, não são suscetíveis de prova nem dela precisam. A essas proposições, pressuposição geral de toda demonstração, chamou axiomas.

Conforme a definição aristotélica, distinguiu-se depois na lógica um tríplice princípio — principium essendi, existendi e cognoscendi —, consoante o ser, o vir-a-ser ou o conhecimento de alguma coisa tivesse de ser derivado de outra. De principium distinguiu-se ainda causa: causa designa o princípio enquanto determina por seu influxo algo que por si não basta para existir, e enquanto é anterior — no tempo ou ao menos por natureza — àquilo que causa. Toda causa é princípio, mas nem todo princípio é causa.

2. Esse modo de falar foi adotado também na teologia; os pais da igreja falam do Pai como princípio, fonte e causa do Filho e do Espírito, e Agostinho chama o Pai principium totius divinitatis. Assim Deus era o principium essendi de tudo quanto é criado, e portanto também da ciência, e em particular da teologia.

Neste último domínio repetia-se sempre, e expressamente, que Deus é o principium essendi da teologia. Havia para isso uma razão especial: nenhum conhecimento de Deus é possível senão de Deus e por Deus. Era axioma da teologia antiga que de Deus se há de aprender o que dele se deve entender, porque não se o conhece senão tendo-o a ele por autor. Que haja na criatura algum conhecimento de Deus, isso se deve unicamente a Deus. Ele é cognoscível apenas porque e na medida em que ele mesmo o quer. Ele é em sentido absoluto principium essendi, causa efficiens principialis do nosso conhecimento de Deus, porque é absolutamente livre, autoconsciente e veraz. Seu autoconhecimento, sua autoconsciência, é o principium essendi do nosso conhecimento de Deus. Sem a autoconsciência de Deus, nenhum conhecimento de Deus nas criaturas. O panteísmo é a morte da teologia.

A relação entre esse autoconhecimento de Deus e o nosso conhecimento de Deus exprimia-se antigamente dizendo que aquele é a theologia archetypa deste, e este a theologia ectypa daquele. Nosso conhecimento de Deus é uma impressão do conhecimento que Deus tem de si mesmo, mas sempre em sentido criatural: é apenas uma fraca semelhança, um esboço finito e limitado, acomodado à consciência criatural, da absoluta autoconsciência de Deus.

3. Deste principium essendi há de se distinguir o principium cognoscendi. Que haja teologia, devemo-lo unicamente a Deus, à sua autoconsciência, ao seu beneplácito. Mas o meio, o caminho pelo qual esse conhecimento de Deus chega até nós, é a revelação de Deus, aqui tomada ainda em sentido inteiramente geral. A natureza da coisa o traz consigo. Um homem só nos é cognoscível na medida em que se revela a nós: aparição, palavra e ação são as três formas da revelação de um homem a outro. Assim é também com o Senhor nosso Deus: seu conhecimento só nos flui de sua revelação, e também essa revelação só pode ser aparição, palavra e ação. O principium cognoscendi da teologia é, portanto, a autorrevelação ou autocomunicação de Deus às suas criaturas. E se essa autorrevelação está depositada na Escritura ou na igreja, então essa Escritura e essa igreja só podem ter significação instrumental e, nesse sentido, acidental e transitória. A Sagrada Escritura é, quando muito, causa efficiens instrumentalis da teologia.

Pois o fim da teologia não pode ser outro senão que a criatura racional conheça a Deus e, conhecendo-o, o glorifique. A autorrevelação de Deus pretende trazer o conhecimento dele à consciência humana e, por meio dela, preparar de novo glória e honra para o próprio Deus. Mas então essa autorrevelação também não pode terminar fora do homem, diante dele: tem de prosseguir para dentro do homem mesmo, isto é, a revelação não pode ser apenas externa, mas deve ser também interna. Por isso se distinguia antigamente entre principium cognoscendi externum e internum, verbum externum e internum, revelação e iluminação, a operação da Palavra de Deus e a de seu Espírito. O verbum internum é o verbum principale, pois é ele que traz o conhecimento de Deus para dentro do homem, e este é o fim de toda teologia. O verbum externum, a revelação consignada na Sagrada Escritura, serve nisso como meio; é verbum instrumentale, por sua natureza temporário e acidental.

4. Chegamos assim a conhecer três principia. Primeiro, Deus como principium essendi da teologia. Depois, o principium cognoscendi externum, a saber, a autorrevelação de Deus, que, enquanto depositada na Sagrada Escritura, tem caráter instrumental e temporal. E, finalmente, o principium cognoscendi internum, a iluminação do homem pelo Espírito de Deus. Estes três são um nisto: que têm a Deus por autor e têm por conteúdo um só e mesmo conhecimento de Deus. A theologia archetypa na consciência divina; a theologia ectypa, concedida na revelação e depositada na Sagrada Escritura; e a theologia in subjecto, o conhecimento de Deus enquanto entra da revelação na consciência do homem — as três são de Deus. É Deus mesmo que descerra o seu autoconhecimento, o comunica pela revelação e o traz para dentro do homem. E também materialmente são um, pois é um só e mesmo conhecimento puro e verdadeiro de Deus o que ele tem de si mesmo, o que comunica na revelação e o que traz à consciência humana. Nunca podem, pois, ser separados uns dos outros.

Mas, por outro lado, devem realmente ser distinguidos. Pois o conhecimento que Deus tem de si mesmo é absoluto, simples, infinito e, em sua absolutez, incomunicável à consciência finita. A theologia ectypa, concedida às criaturas pela revelação, não é o autoconhecimento absoluto de Deus, mas aquele conhecimento de Deus tal como acomodado e tornado apropriado à consciência finita — antropomorfizado, portanto. E ela, que objetivamente jaz diante de nós na revelação, destina-se a ser transferida para a consciência das criaturas racionais, a tornar-se theologia ectypa interna, theologia in subjecto — e nisso sofre também mudanças conforme a natureza do sujeito. Ela não difere re et ratione, mas sim gradu et modo, em Cristo (theologia unionis), nos anjos e nos bem-aventurados (theologia visionis) e nos homens sobre a terra (theologia viatorum). Mas materialmente é e permanece um só e mesmo conhecimento, que procede de Deus e, pelo caminho da revelação, é transplantado para a consciência de suas criaturas racionais. Estes três principia, distintos e contudo essencialmente um, repousam no ser trinitário de Deus: é o Pai que, pelo Filho como Logos, no Espírito, se comunica às suas criaturas.

§ 7. Princípios na ciência

A. Racionalismo.

1. A ciência consiste sempre numa relação lógica entre sujeito e objeto; a maneira como pomos os dois em relação determina nossa concepção da ciência. Em todos os tempos houve, nesse ponto, duas direções diametralmente opostas, o racionalismo e o empirismo. Do lado do racionalismo esteve Platão: a percepção sensível não dá conhecimento algum, tem por objeto fenômenos mutáveis e só nos ensina que algo é e é assim, não por que é assim; o pensamento está muito acima dela, só ele nos dá ciência; a ciência não vem de fora, é produto do espírito humano. Na filosofia mais recente essa direção ressurgiu com Descartes, que, lançando tudo fora, encontrou por fim seu ponto de partida firme no pensar e daí concluiu ao ser, cogito ergo sum; com isso a necessidade do pensamento, a ordem matemática de razão e consequência, tornou-se em Espinosa o critério da verdade. Kant temperou esse racionalismo, na medida em que derivou do espírito humano não a matéria, mas apenas as formas da percepção (idealismo transcendental, crítico). Mas Fichte viu com razão que tal distinção era impossível e declarou que todos os elementos do nosso conhecimento, até a percepção mesma, são a priori e postos pelo Eu (idealismo absoluto). Nesses filósofos o racionalismo ainda tinha sentido apenas gnosiológico; mas esse racionalismo subjetivo foi por Fichte, Schelling e Hegel estendido a um racionalismo objetivo: não só o conhecimento, mas também o ser, não só as representações, mas as próprias coisas surgiram unicamente do pensamento; pensar e ser são um (idealismo metafísico).

2. Sob todas as formas em que apareceu, esse racionalismo teve sempre um pensamento fundamental: a origem do conhecimento há de ser buscada no sujeito. É bom compreender como se chegou a isso. Pois, à parte a inseguridade da percepção sensível, há entre as representações em nós e as coisas fora de nós uma diferença tão essencial, que as primeiras não se explicam pelas segundas. A matéria não pode agir sobre o espírito; fenômenos espirituais, como são as representações, só do espírito se explicam; o semelhante só pelo semelhante pode ser conhecido. Daí segue que a existência e a cooperação de matéria e espírito, das coisas fora de nós e das representações em nós, ou só se sustentam por hipóteses como a harmonia praestabilita de Leibniz, ou então se há de negar simplesmente a dualidade de matéria e espírito e ter coisa e representação, ser e pensar, por essencialmente um. Pois, diz o idealismo, se coisa e representação são duas, então temos de desesperar do conhecimento da coisa; nunca poderemos confrontar nossa representação da coisa com a coisa mesma; permanecemos sempre no círculo das nossas representações; posso pensar apenas o pensamento, não a coisa; o que não é meu pensamento é para mim impensável, incognoscível, não existe para mim.

Esse idealismo foi ainda reforçado pela fisiologia dos sentidos, que retomou a antiga distinção entre propriedades quantitativas e qualitativas, chamadas por Locke primárias e secundárias. Segundo esse semi-idealismo, fora de nós há no mundo apenas movimentos mecânicos dos átomos; a matéria é sem qualidades; luz, som, cor, sabor, calor não existem fora, mas nascem e existem somente no espírito humano. O mundo, na sua substância, não é produto do homem; mas na sua forma, sim.

3. Há, contudo, objeções muito sérias contra o idealismo. Em primeiro lugar, está em conflito com toda a experiência. Somos todos, por natureza, realistas, e os próprios idealistas o são na prática. O idealismo é uma opinião de escola, em conflito direto com a vida. Não explica como e por que todo ser humano, de si mesmo e involuntariamente, atribui objetividade e realidade independente aos fenômenos percebidos, ao passo que distinguimos com toda a clareza entre o que está em nós e o que está fora de nós, entre sonho e realidade. Acresce que o homem nunca e em domínio nenhum é autônomo, mas em toda parte e sempre dependente da natureza em torno dele; estranho seria que no intelectual fosse de outro modo. O intelecto é aqui instrumento, não fonte; o idealismo identifica o órgão com a fonte do conhecimento e deriva o pensamento do pensar.

Isso, porém, não pode ser, porque a coisa e a sua representação, o ser e o pensar, o esse e o percipi, são dois e não se deixam identificar. São ambos toto genere diferentes. Uma coisa não se levanta em nós como um sonho, nem se segue logicamente de representações anteriores, mas muitas vezes me vem de repente de fora e rompe a série das minhas representações; é independente de mim e tem existência fora de mim; tem propriedades que não se podem atribuir à representação dela. Se, apesar disso, coisa e representação são identificadas, o idealismo tem de levar ao ilusionismo absoluto: não só o mundo fora de mim se torna aparência, mas eu mesmo não sou senão uma representação, um fenômeno para mim mesmo. Tudo se torna sonho; não há mais realidade, mas também não há mais verdade. Não se vê então como religião e moral ainda se hão de justificar teoricamente, se ambas não são relações reais com seres que existem fora de mim, e sim apenas com representações em mim.

O dualismo de pensar e ser, do qual o idealismo parte em Platão, Descartes e Kant, converte-se depois sempre de novo, em Espinosa, Fichte, Schelling e Hegel, na identidade de ambos: o racionalismo subjetivo leva ao racionalismo absoluto e objetivo. Mas o pensar abstrato e sem conteúdo, o absoluto, o ser, o pensar, de que parte a filosofia idealista, não é capaz de produzir o ser rico e pleno. Daquele abstractum estéril não se explica o mundo vivo. O rochedo em que naufraga todo panteísmo é a multiplicidade; não se encontra transição do abstrato ao concreto, do geral ao particular. Por fim, uma distinção como a de Kant entre a forma, que nós mesmos trazemos conosco na percepção, e a matéria, que nos vem de fora, ou como a do semi-idealismo entre fenômenos primários objetivos e secundários subjetivos, é insustentável, porque não se pode indicar a fronteira entre os dois. A matéria de uma representação pertence à representação tanto quanto a sua forma, como o próprio Fichte reconheceu. Não há razão para aceitar o testemunho de um sentido, o tato, e rejeitar o dos outros quatro; e nada impede que se atribua também às formas da percepção, tempo e espaço, e às categorias do pensamento, realidade objetiva nas coisas mesmas.

B. Empirismo.

4. Diametralmente oposto ao racionalismo está o empirismo, que entrou na era moderna com Bacon e, passando por Locke e Hume, desembocou neste século no positivismo de Comte e no materialismo. Também o empirismo aparece em formas diversas, mas tem sempre por ponto de partida este princípio: só a percepção sensível é fonte do nosso conhecimento. Enquanto o racionalismo faz o mundo objetivo dirigir-se, no todo ou em parte, pelo espírito humano, o empirismo submete a consciência inteiramente ao mundo fora de nós. No esforço pelo conhecimento o homem nada traz consigo senão a capacidade de perceber; não há conceitos inatos; todas as opiniões prévias o investigador deve pôr de lado; não a anticipatio mentis, mas a interpretatio naturae, a experiência pura, deve guiá-lo (Bacon). O espírito humano é e deve ser uma tabula rasa, in qua nihil scriptum est, inteiramente sem pressupostos. Por isso também não é possível ciência alguma do suprassensível e do sobrenatural: a metafísica, a teologia, as ciências do espírito em geral não são ciência em sentido próprio; a ciência limita-se às ciências exatas. E mesmo dentro do círculo dos fenômenos observáveis nosso conhecimento se restringe ao que e ao como; o quê e o porquê ficam ocultos. Causa e fim, origem e destinação das coisas estão fora do nosso alcance; apenas as relações invariáveis de sucessão e semelhança são objeto da investigação científica. O fim da ciência já não pode ser dar uma explicação do mundo, mas apenas um conhecimento da realidade tal que possamos com ele ordenar nossa vida: saber é prever; da previsão, a ação. Mas essa sujeição absoluta do espírito ao mundo da observação levou outros a explicar do mundo não só o conteúdo do pensamento, mas também a consciência e o próprio espírito: o empirismo terminou em materialismo.

5. Esse empirismo tem de fato um forte apoio na dependência do homem em relação à natureza que o cerca, mas está igualmente onerado de graves objeções. Em primeiro lugar, é certo que o espírito do homem em sua atividade intelectual nunca é passivo, nem mesmo receptivo em sentido absoluto, mas age sempre também ativamente. Pois não é o olho que vê e o ouvido que ouve, mas o homem mesmo, que vê pelo olho e ouve pelo ouvido. A mais simples sensação e representação já pressupõe consciência e, portanto, atividade da alma. Tabula rasa, na qual o mundo exterior possa escrever o que queira, o espírito humano nunca é; é ele mesmo que percebe, liga as percepções, compara, julga. Mas há mais. Diz Kant com razão: a experiência nos ensina, sim, que algo é assim ou assado, mas não que não possa ser de outro modo. Ora, temos não apenas verdades particulares e contingentes, mas também verdades gerais e necessárias, na lógica, na matemática e alhures, que os empiristas em vão tentaram derivar da experiência. Mais ainda: todas as ciências partem de uma série de proposições não provadas e não prováveis, assumidas a priori, que servem de ponto de partida a todo raciocínio e a toda prova. Aristóteles já o viu: não há regresso ao infinito; justamente para ter força probante, as provas devem por fim repousar numa proposição que não precisa de prova, que repousa em si mesma e por isso pode servir de principium argumentationis. Uma argumentação só pode assentar sobre um fundamento que está firme por evidência, e não por prova.

Com isso está julgado o ponto de partida do empirismo; mas também a sua concepção de ciência está sujeita a séria objeção. Pois pertence à ciência, por sua natureza, dar conhecimento do geral, do necessário e eterno, do lógico, da ideia. O conhecimento de fenômenos, pessoas e fatos é bom, mas é apenas trabalho preparatório; a análise deve ir adiante, mas a síntese tem de seguir. Só há ciência quando penetramos as coisas em sua causa e em sua essência, em seu fim e em sua destinação, quando conhecemos não só o "que" mas também o "por que". O empirismo, porém, é forçado a negar a todas as ciências o nome de ciência e a reservá-lo apenas às exatas. Mas essa limitação é impossível, porque com ela o nome de ciência ficaria afinal reservado a umas poucas disciplinas auxiliares, e justamente aquele conhecimento que para o homem é o mais importante, e pelo qual em primeiro lugar ele investiga, seria banido do domínio da ciência. Continua verdadeiro o que disse Tomás de Aquino: o mínimo que se pode ter do conhecimento das coisas altíssimas é mais desejável do que o conhecimento certíssimo que se tem das coisas mínimas.

Além disso, o mundo das coisas espirituais, o mundo dos valores — do bem e do mal, do direito e do costume, da religião e da moral —, é para nós realidade tanto quanto o mundo que percebemos com os sentidos; e seu poder sobre a nossa vida e na história da humanidade é ainda muito maior que o das coisas visíveis à nossa volta. Pode-se impor ao homem a exigência de que se limite em sua investigação; mas essa exigência esbarra no que Schopenhauer chamou a necessidade metafísica do espírito humano. O homem não é apenas um ser intelectual, mas também volitivo e sensível; não é uma máquina de pensar, mas tem, além da cabeça, também um coração. Isso ele traz consigo à investigação científica; em sua atividade no gabinete e no laboratório não pode excluir a si mesmo. Não se pode exigir que o homem, numa das mais nobres atividades do seu espírito, imponha silêncio ao que nele há de melhor e assim se mutile.

Se, porém, se limita a ciência tanto no sentido subjetivo quanto no objetivo, nada mais se obterá senão que por outros caminhos se busque prover à necessidade metafísica; e a religião, com todo o conhecimento espiritual, primeiro expulsa com desprezo pela porta da frente, é de novo admitida — muitas vezes em forma supersticiosa — pela porta dos fundos. A consequência inevitável é apenas esta, que a ciência fica indefesa e desarmada diante do materialismo. E a isso o empirismo de fato conduziu. Contra ele, porém, permanecem de pé os "sete enigmas do mundo". O espiritual ainda não foi explicado pelo material, tão pouco quanto o racionalismo conseguiu derivar o ser do pensar. Há aqui um abismo que nem o idealismo nem o materialismo conseguem transpor; não é temerário falar aqui não só de um ignoramus, mas também de um ignorabimus. Mas quando vemos como empirismo e racionalismo, apesar das grandes promessas, neste século não terminaram senão em materialismo e ilusionismo, então há de fato razão para perguntar se não há outros e melhores principia da ciência, que nos preservem de ambos.

C. Realismo.

6. O ponto de partida da teoria do conhecimento deve ser a experiência comum e cotidiana, a certeza geral e natural que o homem tem acerca da objetividade e da verdade do seu conhecimento. Pois a filosofia não cria a faculdade de conhecer e o conhecer, mas encontra-os e procura explicá-los; e toda solução que não explica a faculdade de conhecer, mas a destrói, e que não compreende o conhecer, mas o transforma em ilusão, está por isso mesmo julgada. Só tem chance de êxito uma teoria do conhecimento que, por um lado, não abandona o terreno da experiência e, por outro, penetra em toda a profundidade do problema: primeiro o homem, depois o filósofo. A certeza natural é o fundamento indispensável da ciência. O conhecer científico não é destruição, mas purificação, ampliação e complemento do conhecer ordinário. Pois todo homem admite a confiabilidade dos sentidos e a existência do mundo exterior, não por uma conclusão lógica que vá do efeito à causa fora de si, mas antes de toda reflexão e de todo raciocínio. Essa certeza não nasce de um silogismo e não repousa em prova alguma; é imediata, surge espontaneamente em mim com a própria percepção, não é produto, mas fundamento e ponto de partida de toda outra certeza. Cumpre apenas distinguir entre a certeza que é dada de uma vez com a percepção atual de um objeto e aquela que mais tarde se segue da representação que ficou; só da primeira se trata aqui.

7. Este único fato, a certeza natural acerca da confiabilidade dos sentidos e da realidade do mundo exterior, já prova que existe ainda outra certeza além da científica, demonstrativa. Os empiristas erradamente a negaram. A experiência ensina apenas que algo é, não que deva ser; dá-nos a conhecer a realidade. Nós, porém, temos também verdades gerais e necessárias, das quais estamos certos não por observação e raciocínio, mas a priori. A maioria dos filósofos, por isso, admitiu, ao lado da certeza científica ou mediata, também uma certeza metafísica, intuitiva, imediata, chamada também certeza de fé, de evidência. Aristóteles foi o primeiro a ver com clareza que a ciência se edifica, em última instância, sobre verdades evidentes e indemonstráveis. Alguns, como Platão, Descartes e Leibniz, procuraram explicar esse caráter imutável e eterno da verdade pela doutrina das ideias inatas. Mas essa doutrina repousa sobre um dualismo insustentável de sujeito e objeto, torna o espírito humano independente do cosmo, é em princípio racionalista e leva lógica e historicamente ao idealismo absoluto. Foi por isso que a doutrina das ideae innatae foi unanimemente rejeitada pelos teólogos escolásticos e também pelos reformados. Eles chegaram a adotar a proposição empirista nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu e a falar do homem, antes que perceba, como de uma tabula rasa, in qua nihil scriptum est. E o sustentavam porque o homem, à diferença dos anjos, é corpóreo; seu corpo não é uma prisão, mas pertence à sua natureza, e por esse corpo ele está ligado ao cosmo. Rejeitaram assim o racionalismo do modo mais decidido possível, não só na forma dos conceitos inatos, mas também na das formas inatas, em que apareceu com Kant.

Por outro lado, aquelas expressões não podem ser entendidas no sentido do empirismo de Locke; Leibniz acrescentou ao adágio a restrição nisi ipse intellectus. E este é o pensamento próprio da teoria do conhecimento cristã: o espírito humano não é capaz de produzir fora do mundo sensível, do seu próprio fundo e com os seus próprios meios, o conhecimento das coisas, nem mesmo o conhecimento dos principia aeterna, das noções comuns. Está desde o início ligado ao corpo e por ele ao cosmo, e por isso também o intelecto só pode chegar à atividade por meio dos sentidos e com base neles. O intelecto é no princípio pura potência, tabula rasa, sem conteúdo algum, e é primeiro despertado de fora, pelo mundo sensível, à atividade. Mas assim que começa a trabalhar, trabalha também, de pronto e por si mesmo, ao seu modo e segundo a sua própria natureza. E a natureza do intelecto consiste nisto: que ele possui a força, a inclinação, a aptidão de formar, na percepção e com ela, de si mesmo, involuntariamente, sem estudo prévio, sem raciocínio, aqueles conceitos e princípios fundamentais que estão firmes a priori, antes de toda prova, e por isso merecem ser chamados veritates aeternae. Isso não quer dizer que todo homem possa dar conta clara desses princípios; mas todo homem, mesmo o mais simples, os aplica na vida sem nenhuma reflexão científica, inconscientemente e com a maior certeza.

A diferença entre esta doutrina da faculdade de conhecer e a do racionalismo e do empirismo está em dois pontos: primeiro, numa concepção peculiar do intelecto, que traz consigo uma natureza própria e começa a trabalhar de modo correspondentemente próprio; e segundo, em que esse intelecto, trabalhando assim segundo a sua natureza, não faz outra coisa senão abstrair das coisas percebidas aquele elemento lógico que por natureza jaz oculto nelas mesmas. O racionalismo obriga as coisas a conformar-se ao intelecto; o empirismo obriga o espírito a conformar-se ao mundo sensível e por fim o explica a ele mesmo pela matéria. Mas a teoria do conhecimento que foi surgindo aos poucos na teologia cristã, e que em suas linhas capitais foi primeiro concebida por Agostinho, mantém as duas coisas: a liberdade de subir ao mundo do ideal e a ligação pela qual, também nesse voo, não perde de sob os pés o mundo da realidade.

8. O ponto de partida de todo conhecimento no homem é, portanto, a percepção sensível. Todo conhecimento intelectual começa pelos sentidos, dizia Tomás com Aristóteles; nosso intelecto nada entende sem um fantasma. O erro da escolástica, entre protestantes como entre católicos romanos, esteve apenas nisto: que deu por encerrada a observação cedo demais e julgou que tudo, em todo campo da ciência, já estava recolhido e depositado nos livros. Nessa opinião, negligenciou-se a observação e começou-se logo pelos conceitos já obtidos. Por isso quase se pôde chamar descoberta o retorno de Bacon à percepção sensível; e não era descoberta, mas era de fato um renovamento necessário para a ciência, pois esta deve sempre voltar às fontes. Não dos livros, mas do mundo real é que se há de tirar a verdade.

Ora, nessa percepção sensível cada sentido tem sua natureza e sua tarefa próprias, e por si só não percebe o objeto inteiro, mas apenas certas propriedades dele. A imagem perceptiva que surge em nossa consciência compõe-se de muitas impressões diferentes, recebidas pelos diversos sentidos e ligadas num todo. Não há sensações simples; todo objeto que vemos, todo som que ouvimos já é um complexo de percepções. O espírito humano já está, pois, ativo nas mais simples percepções. Por isso é de tão grande importância a questão de qual seja a relação entre a imagem perceptiva, a representação em nossa consciência, e a realidade, o objeto, fora de nós.

Aristóteles entendeu-o assim: a alma é, não atualmente, mas potencialmente, tudo o que é pensado, e os objetos adquirem pela percepção e pelo pensamento uma existência ideal na alma. A escolástica adotou-o e disse: o conhecido está no conhecedor segundo o modo do conhecedor, não segundo o modo do conhecido; isto é, as coisas mesmas não passam para dentro da alma, mas apenas a sua imagem, a sua forma, a species. Há portanto, de um lado, uma diferença essencial entre a coisa e a sua representação, pois aquela está fora de nós e ali tem existência real, ao passo que esta existe em nós e só tem existência ideal; mas há, de outro lado, também plena correspondência: a representação é imagem, reprodução ideal e fiel do objeto fora de nós. A filosofia moderna, porém, atenta à atividade da consciência na formação das imagens perceptivas, cavou um abismo cada vez maior entre coisa e representação: as imagens perceptivas não são species, formae, mas quando muito sinais, símbolos, esquemas do mundo exterior, livremente formados em nosso espírito por ocasião das modificações que de fora se produzem em nossas células cerebrais. Se assim é, o mundo objetivo dissolve-se em aparência, pois um confronto da imagem perceptiva com a realidade se torna impossível.

O erro que está na base dessa teoria parece ser este: que o objeto próprio da nossa percepção não seria a coisa fora de nós, mas alguma impressão ou vibração dos nossos nervos em nós. Ora, é certo que nenhuma representação se forma em nossa consciência sem que se transmitam vibrações pelos nervos até as células cerebrais. Mas as vibrações nervosas podem ser seguidas até o centro do cérebro, sua força e sua velocidade podem ser calculadas; a representação que depois surge em nossa consciência é toto genere distinta disso: é um ato psíquico, espiritual, jamais explicável por fenômenos físicos. E também não podem as representações ser criações conscientes do nosso espírito por ocasião das modificações das células cerebrais, pela simples razão de que ninguém sabe coisa alguma de todo esse processo de vibrações nervosas na percepção, e só por deliberada investigação fisiológica adquire conhecimento dele. A percepção mesma, pelos sentidos, é um ato de consciência. É o espírito do homem que vê pelo olho e ouve pelo ouvido. O objeto da percepção não é, portanto, um fenômeno em mim, mas a coisa fora de mim. O mesmo espírito que vê o objeto é também o que forma a representação; ambos são atos psíquicos. Por isso não há razão alguma para duvidar de que nas representações temos uma reprodução fiel e ideal dos objetos fora de nós; contanto que fique firme que as representações, no seu todo e nas suas partes, são interpretações fiéis do mundo da realidade fora de nós.

9. Mas o espírito humano não para nessas representações. O conhecimento científico não nasce dos sentidos, mas do intelecto. A observação dos fenômenos é necessária e boa, mas não é o único nem o mais alto. O objeto da ciência não é o particular, mas o universal, o lógico, a ideia. Aristóteles definiu a ciência como conhecimento do ser, do universal, das primeiras causas e princípios, e Tomás exprimiu-o breve e claramente: não há ciência dos singulares, o intelecto é dos universais. A ciência tem por objeto o universal e o necessário e só pode, por isso, ser dada pelo intelecto; pois, enquanto a observação sensível considera as coisas quanto aos seus acidentes exteriores, é próprio do intelecto penetrar até o interior da coisa, até a sua essência: seu objeto próprio é a quidditas rei materialis. O intelecto, a saber, como intellectus agens, isto é, como poder de abstração, separa o universal das representações sensíveis; e então, como intellectus possibilis, recolhe esse universal em si e o faz propriedade do espírito.

Ora, até aqui não há de fato divergência: não a percepção sensível, mas o entendimento é o órgão da ciência. Também o empirismo não o negou; Bacon buscava justamente um método seguro pelo qual, de observações particulares, se pudessem formar juízos de validade geral. Mas com os conceitos que o entendimento forma a partir das representações volta, com dobrada seriedade, a pergunta já feita a propósito das imagens perceptivas: qual é a relação entre esses conceitos e o mundo da realidade? E aqui nominalismo e realismo se separam. Roscelino era de opinião que os conceitos gerais são apenas flatus vocis, entes de pensamento a que não corresponde realidade alguma: na realidade não há coisas gerais, mas só coisas particulares; não há humanidade, mas só seres humanos. A disputa entre realismo e nominalismo não é um ponto de contenda de sutileza escolástica, mas de significação profunda; o nominalismo reapareceu, em forma mais nova, como empirismo na filosofia moderna.

Se o nominalismo tem razão, é o fim de toda ciência. Pois uma de duas: se podemos resumir num conceito e numa palavra as notas correspondentes de um grupo de coisas, ou isso se dá sem fundamento — e então essas palavras e conceitos não representam valor algum na realidade —, ou as coisas realmente se assemelham entre si e têm notas comuns; nesse caso, porém, os conceitos não são entes de pensamento vazios, mas a soma das propriedades essenciais das coisas, e portanto não nomina, mas res. Por isso o realismo tinha razão ao admitir a realidade dos conceitos gerais, não em sentido platônico ou ontológico ante rem, mas em sentido aristotélico in re, e por isso também in mente hominis post rem. O geral que exprimimos no conceito não existe assim, como universal, fora de nós; mas, individualizado e especializado em cada exemplar da espécie, tem contudo seu fundamento nas coisas, é delas abstraído pela atividade do entendimento e expresso num conceito. Com os conceitos, portanto, não nos afastamos da realidade, mas dela nos aproximamos cada vez mais. Parece estranho e maravilhoso que, convertendo as representações em conceitos e tornando a elaborá-los segundo as leis do pensamento, obtenhamos resultados concordes com a realidade. E, no entanto, quem abandona essa convicção está perdido. Mas essa convicção só pode repousar na fé de que é um só e o mesmo Logos que criou tanto a realidade fora de nós quanto as leis do pensamento dentro de nós, e que pôs ambas em conexão orgânica. Só assim é possível a ciência, isto é, o conhecimento não apenas da aparência mutável, mas do geral, do lógico nas coisas. Certamente o ser mesmo das coisas permanece fora de nós; o ser nunca nos é acessível, é um factum que se há de aceitar e que constitui o fundamento do pensar. Mas na medida em que as coisas também existem logicamente, procederam do pensamento e nele repousam (Jo 1.3; Cl 1.15), são também compreensíveis e pensáveis para o espírito humano.

10. Platão esclareceu esse processo da ciência por uma imagem: assim como o sol ilumina objetivamente o objeto e subjetivamente o nosso olho, assim Deus, ou a ideia do bem, é a luz pela qual a verdade, o ser das coisas, se torna visível e pela qual, ao mesmo tempo, o nosso espírito pode contemplar essa verdade. Agostinho adotou-a: Deus é o sol dos espíritos, e não podemos ver verdade alguma senão na luz de Deus. Tomás advertiu apenas que isso não se deve entender panteisticamente: não vemos as coisas na essência divina, mas pela luz que de Deus brilha em nosso próprio intelecto. A razão em nós é essa luz divina; não é o Logos divino mesmo, mas tem parte nele: a Deus pertence o ser, o viver e o entender por essência; a nós, por participação.

Essa imagem levou a falar, em sentido são, da luz natural da razão, sob a qual nada mais se entendia senão aquela propriedade ou força permanente do espírito humano pela qual ele é capaz de formar, logo às primeiras observações, aqueles conceitos e princípios fundamentais que daí em diante o guiam em todo pensamento. Mas essa luz há de ser atribuída a Deus, ou mais precisamente ao Logos. É ele que a faz nascer em nós e continuamente a mantém. E assim não é ao homem, que é apenas instrumento, mas a Deus que se há de atribuir que, pelos raios dessa luz, a verdade se revele ao nosso espírito.

Também aqui, portanto, e não só na teologia, há três principia a distinguir. Deus é o principium essendi; em sua autoconsciência estão as ideias de todas as coisas; todas as coisas repousam em pensamentos e foram criadas pela palavra. Mas é do seu beneplácito transferir dessa cognitio archetypa de sua consciência divina um conhecimento ectípico para o homem, feito à sua imagem. E o faz, não deixando-nos contemplar as ideias em sua essência, nem tampouco dando-no-las todas já ao nascer, mas espalhando-as nas obras de suas mãos diante do espírito do homem. O mundo é uma incorporação dos pensamentos de Deus: não é um caderno de escrever, em que, segundo a representação dos idealistas, tivéssemos nós de preencher as palavras, mas um livro de leitura, do qual Deus nos dá a conhecer o que nele escreveu para nós. O mundo criado é assim o principium cognoscendi externum de toda ciência. Mas isso não basta. Tem de haver correspondência, afinidade, entre objeto e sujeito. O mesmo Logos que brilha no mundo deve também fazer brilhar a sua luz em nossa consciência. Esse é o intelecto, a ratio, que, ele mesmo derivado do Logos, descobre e reconhece o Logos nas coisas: é o principium cognoscendi internum. É pois Deus somente que, de sua consciência divina, traz o conhecimento da verdade, por meio das criaturas, ao nosso espírito: o Pai, que pelo Filho, no Espírito, se revela a nós.

§ 8. Os princípios na religião

A. A essência da religião

1. Assim como a ciência, também a religião tem seus principia. Para conhecê-los é necessário antes de tudo determinar a essência da religião, especialmente também na sua distinção da ciência e da arte. O nome dá pouca luz: as derivações antigas concordam em que religio designa a religião como uma atitude de temor tímido diante da Divindade e, daí decorrente, como uma observância ansiosamente escrupulosa do que o culto dos deuses exige. A palavra não é, pois, de modo algum apta a exprimir o conteúdo pleno da religião cristã. Mas o uso e a derivação de Lactâncio, que entendia por religião o laço que liga o homem a Deus, cristianizaram a palavra; a Vulgata adotou-a, e ela passou a todas as línguas europeias.

2. A Sagrada Escritura não dá definição alguma e tampouco possui um conceito geral para designar o fenômeno da religião. Tem palavras separadas para o lado objetivo e para o lado subjetivo. A religio objectiva é idêntica à revelação de Deus e consiste na aliança que Deus deu a Israel, e que por isso pode em pleno sentido chamar-se uma instituição divina. As ordenanças dessa aliança formam juntas o conteúdo da torá — instrução, doutrina, lei —, e a multiplicidade das expressões indica como na religião de Israel o objetivo, a ordenança de Deus, está em primeiro plano. A essa religio objectiva corresponde subjetivamente o temor do Senhor, que exprime a disposição interior do israelita piedoso diante das leis santas que Deus lhe prescreveu observar. Mas esse temor é essencialmente distinto da timidez ansiosa que originalmente está encerrada na palavra latina religio. Vê-se isso de que ele passa e se liga a toda sorte de outras disposições religiosas: crer, confiar, refugiar-se, esperar, e até amar a Deus. Os direitos do Senhor não permanecem, como objeto de terror, fora e acima do israelita, mas tornam-se objeto do seu amor.

No Novo Testamento encontramos em substância a mesma concepção. Mas agora Deus dá a sua revelação não numa série de leis, e sim na pessoa de Cristo. Este é o caminho e a verdade; o "caminho do Senhor", a "doutrina", o "evangelho" concentram-se todos em torno de Cristo e não são senão explicitação de sua pessoa e de sua obra. Correspondentemente muda também a disposição subjetiva. O temor tampouco desapareceu de todo da religio subjectiva, mas ocorre muito mais raramente como descrição da disposição religiosa, e foi substituído pelo amor. A palavra ordinária para a religio subjectiva no Novo Testamento é pistis, fé. À alegre mensagem do perdão e da salvação em Cristo corresponde, do lado do homem, a fé, que é confiança filial na graça de Deus e por isso opera também imediatamente o amor em nosso coração. Fé e amor são as disposições fundamentais da piedade cristã.

3. A Sagrada Escritura não dá, portanto, descrição alguma da essência da religião tal como, segundo a concepção moderna, ela subjaz a todas as religiões. Mas delineia e descreve como religião apenas aquela relação entre Deus e o homem que foi regulada e determinada pelo próprio Deus. Do mesmo modo, a teologia antiga sempre partiu, ao determinar a essência da religião, da religio vera. E esse método ainda se recomenda por sua correção. Só pode contestá-lo quem julgue que as categorias de verdadeiro e falso não se aplicam às religiões; esse indiferentismo, porém, é insustentável: também o conhecer é elemento essencial da religião. Admitido que exista uma religio vera, então nenhuma objeção se concebe contra derivar dela a definição da essência da religião e usá-la como padrão na avaliação das outras religiões. O falso só se conhece pelo genuíno, e a mentira se descobre pela verdade. Em nenhum domínio é possível juízo correto das coisas sem um padrão fixo e positivo.

Seguindo o exemplo da Escritura, temos de distinguir, na investigação da essência da religião, o seu lado objetivo e o seu lado subjetivo. A religio objectiva tem a precedência. Todos os homens a encontram ao nascer; crescem nela como na família, na sociedade, no Estado — todas instituições e potências objetivas, que não surgem arbitrariamente do homem e por ele, mas que o recebem ao nascer, o formam e o educam, e mesmo contra a sua vontade continuam a governá-lo a vida inteira. Está em conflito com a história e com a psicologia partir, na determinação da essência da religião, da religio subjectiva, e ver então nas diversas religiões apenas formas mutáveis e expressões indiferentes da vida dela: assim se nega o poder da religio objectiva e inverte-se de modo revolucionário toda relação de objeto e sujeito. Não há uma única religião que seja expressão pura da disposição religiosa e se explique só a partir dela. A religio subjectiva modifica e remodela as representações e os usos religiosos existentes e muitas vezes os anima com vida nova; mas não cria: ela mesma surge sempre e em toda parte sob a influência das religiões existentes. Fundadores de religião, no sentido próprio, não existem. A religio objectiva é a lareira da religio subjectiva.

Acresce que todas as religiões querem ser consideradas não como expressão de uma disposição religiosa, mas como fruto de revelação. Não derivam sua origem do homem, mas de Deus. Quer se deixe valer esse apelo à revelação, quer não, o fato fala forte demais e é geral demais para não ter de ser explicado. Indica que o conceito de religião está inseparavelmente ligado ao de revelação. Não há religião sem revelação; a revelação é o fundamento e a origem de toda religião. Não é, pois, permitido ao homem de ciência eliminar já a priori esse conceito. Está ademais na natureza da coisa que revelação e religião estejam estreitissimamente ligadas: só Deus pode determinar o modo pelo qual quer ser servido pelos homens — não cabe aos homens instituir e formar o culto de Deus, mas receber e guardar o que por Deus foi transmitido.

Formalmente todas as religiões concordam, e a concordância vai ainda mais longe: todas se compõem de algumas partes constitutivas que constantemente retornam. Em primeiro lugar, há em toda religião uma tradição a respeito de sua origem divina — é o elemento histórico, positivo, o elemento da tradição. Em seguida, há uma certa doutrina, na qual Deus revela ao homem o conhecimento indispensável ao seu serviço: é o que se designa com a palavra dogma. Além disso, toda religião contém certas leis, que prescrevem ao homem o que deve fazer e omitir para poder viver em comunhão com Deus: é a doutrina moral. E por fim há um número maior ou menor de cerimônias, que também exteriormente exprimem e fortalecem a comunhão do homem com Deus: é o elemento cúltico ou litúrgico. Nas diversas religiões a relação mútua dessas partes é muito diferente, mas em todas os quatro elementos estão presentes.

4. À religio objectiva corresponde no homem a religio subjectiva. Muito comum foi outrora a descrição da religião como recta verum Deum cognoscendi et colendi ratio, o modo correto de conhecer e cultuar o verdadeiro Deus. Não está, porém, acima de crítica: nada diz da disposição subjetiva necessária ao serviço de Deus, e não indica a conexão que existe entre o conhecer e o servir a Deus, mas simplesmente os põe lado a lado.

A escolástica penetrou mais fundo na matéria e investigou a disposição subjetiva de que a religião brota no homem. Tomás divide as virtudes em três espécies: as virtutes intellectuales, as virtutes morales e, como terceira classe, as três virtudes sobrenaturais ou teológicas: fé, esperança e amor. A religio é por ele posta não sob as virtutes theologicae, mas sob as virtutes morales. Pois as virtudes teológicas têm a peculiaridade de ter Deus por objeto direto. Na religião, porém, Deus não é objectum mas finis; o objeto próprio da religião é o culto que se presta a Deus. Não é, pois, virtude teológica, que tem Deus por objeto, mas virtude moral, que se ocupa daquilo que conduz ao fim. Entre as virtudes morais é contudo a principal, porque está na mais estreita relação com Aquele que é o alvo de todas as virtudes; e coincide, pois, com a latreia.

Essa definição de Tomás é, em primeiro lugar, estreita demais, porque descreve apenas o culto: a religio subjectiva não é somente um serviço, uma veneração, mas antes de tudo uma disposição que nesse serviço se exprime. Além disso, a distinção entre virtutes morales e virtutes theologicae é sobrenaturalista e dualista demais. Nela há, decerto, alguma verdade: também no homem caído restam vestígios da imagem de Deus e virtudes morais, e nem mesmo a religião foi de todo extirpada. Mas as virtudes morais, e também a disposição religiosa, precisam ser renovadas e renascidas para serem verdadeiramente boas. O próprio Tomás reconhece que as virtudes teológicas causam o ato da religião, e todavia elas ficam excluídas da religião.

A Reforma modificou essa concepção sobretudo em duplo respeito. Em primeiro lugar, os teólogos da Reforma distinguem melhor e mais claramente entre a pietas como princípio e o cultus como ação da religião. Em segundo lugar, fé, esperança e amor não são postas como virtudes teológicas separadas ao lado da religião, mas precisamente, como atos principais do cultus internus, são incluídas na própria religião. A religião, diz Zwínglio, abrange toda a piedade dos cristãos; consiste naquela adesão pela qual o homem confia inabalavelmente em Deus como no sumo bem. Em Calvino encontram-se três conceitos: primeiro, a notitia, o conhecimento de Deus; segundo, essa notitia é mestra idônea da pietas, que consiste na reverência unida ao amor de Deus; e terceiro, é dessa pietas que nasce a religio, no sentido de culto. Do mesmo modo distinguem os reformados posteriores entre o cultus, que indica a ação externa ou interna pela qual veneramos a Deus, e a religio ou pietas, que é a virtude de que o culto nasce: a religião difere do culto de Deus como a causa do efeito.

5. A religio subjectiva é antes de tudo um habitus, certa disposição no homem, que pela operação da religio objectiva passa a atos, o culto interno e externo. Tal habitus existe em todo homem: a semente da religião foi posta em todos (Calvino). Mas no homem caído esse habitus está corrompido e, fecundado por uma religio objectiva falsa e impura, produz também um culto que é idolatria. Para uma religião pura é necessário, portanto, primeiro, que a religio objectiva, vinda a nós de fora, nos faça conhecer Deus de novo como Ele realmente é; e, segundo, que o habitus religionis corrompido no homem seja renascido e renovado. Nesse sentido a religio subjectiva é uma virtude infundida pelo Espírito Santo.

Com isso, porém, ainda não se disse o bastante. O homem tem muitas virtudes, tanto no seu entendimento como na sua vontade; é preciso, pois, indicar mais precisamente a peculiaridade daquela virtude que atua na religião. Outrora definia-se essa virtude como piedade, reverência, temor, fé; e hoje como reverência, temor reverente, sentimento de dependência. Todas essas determinações não são bastante determinadas: todos esses afetos temos, em maior ou menor grau, também em relação às criaturas. Tem de haver distinção essencial entre o cultus religiosus e o cultus civilis, entre latreia e dulia. Essa distinção só pode estar em que na religião entram em consideração a dignidade e o poder absolutos de Deus e a sujeição absoluta de nossa parte. Das criaturas dependemos apenas em parte; com elas estamos, como criaturas, na mesma linha. Mas Deus é um ser de quem dependemos absolutamente e que em todo respeito tem a decisão sobre o nosso bem e o nosso mal.

Foi sobretudo Schleiermacher quem definiu a religião como sentimento de dependência absoluta. Contra essa definição levantaram-se muitas objeções, e de fato ela tem nele um sentido que não se pode admitir: a dependência é por ele concebida tão panteisticamente que objetivamente se refere apenas ao todo do mundo e subjetivamente se limita ao sentimento. Há nela, contudo, um importante elemento de verdade. O que faz do homem um ser religioso e o impele à religião é a consciência de que está para com Deus numa relação que se distingue especificamente de todas as outras relações em que se acha posto. Essa relação é tão profunda e rica que dificilmente se deixa exprimir por um só conceito; mas certamente o de dependência é o que primeiro e mais entra aqui em consideração. Pois na religião o homem se sente em relação com um ser pessoal que tem em sua mão a sorte dele em todo domínio da vida, para o tempo e para a eternidade. Por isso Deus não é na religião concebido exclusivamente como poder; pois também como Gracioso, Misericordioso, Justo e Santo, Deus está sempre diante do homem como Soberano, como Absoluto, como Deus. E o homem está sempre diante dele como criatura; e isso ele não é diante de ninguém e de nada mais. Essa dependência de criatura não é, portanto, a essência, mas é o fundamento da religião.

O homem, porém, não é apenas criatura, mas criatura racional e moral; sua relação com Deus é por isso inteiramente outra que a dos anjos e a dos animais. A dependência absoluta em que ele está para com Deus não exclui, pois, a liberdade. É dependente de tal modo e em tal sentido que ao mesmo tempo permanece um ser racional e moral, aparentado com Deus, sua prole e sua imagem. Absolutamente dependente é ele, de sorte que a negação dessa dependência nunca o torna livre, e o reconhecimento dela nunca o degrada a escravo. Ao contrário: na aceitação consciente e voluntária dessa sua dependência o homem chega à mais alta liberdade. Torna-se homem na mesma medida em que é filho de Deus.

A Escritura designa aquela disposição religiosa que o cristão sente para com Deus e sua revelação com o nome de fé: esse é o conceito central da religio subjectiva do cristão. Mas na fé estão sempre encerrados estes dois elementos: primeiro, que o homem, diante de Deus e de sua revelação, é inteiramente receptivo e absolutamente dependente de Deus; e segundo, que precisamente pelo reconhecimento dessa dependência ele se torna participante do perdão, da filiação, da salvação por graça. Analogia dessa religio subjectiva há certamente também em outras religiões, mas só na religião cristã a relação subjetiva do homem com Deus é completamente normal. Dependência e liberdade estão aqui reconciliadas uma com a outra; a soberania de Deus é plenamente mantida, e o parentesco do homem com Deus é não obstante plenamente reconhecido. O homem é tanto mais religioso quanto mais profundamente percebe e reconhece a sua dependência. Por isso todas as virtudes com respeito às criaturas podem ser exageradas; mas com respeito a Deus nenhum exagero é possível: nunca se pode crer nele, confiar nele, amá-lo demais.

6. A religio subjectiva passa, pela operação da objetiva, do seu estado habitual aos atos, internos ou externos, e fazem assim distinção entre o cultus internus e o externus. Religião e culto relacionam-se como causa e efeito. Não se quer dizer com isso, porém, que o culto seja livre invenção e expressão da religião subjetiva: todo culto arbitrário é proibido. Tanto o anabatismo antinomista como o romanismo nomista devem aqui ser evitados. Só Deus determina como quer ser servido. E a regeneração da religio subjectiva corrompida pelo pecado consiste precisamente nisto: que os crentes recebem sincero desejo de viver, na perfeição, não segundo alguns, mas segundo todos os mandamentos de Deus. E para esse fim Deus regenera o homem: para trazê-lo, a ele que é avesso ao seu serviço, de novo, no íntimo do seu ser, à concordância com a sua vontade e a sua lei, depositadas na religio objectiva.

O cultus internus compreende os atos de fé, confiança, temor, amor, oração e ação de graças; o cultus externus manifesta-se na confissão, no canto, no ministério da palavra e dos sacramentos. Em todas essas ações religiosas a consciência da dependência absoluta é o pensamento religioso fundamental, o elemento que anima. Desligadas dela, tornam-se serviço de letra, formalismo frio e morto; animadas por ela, todas adquirem seu caráter especificamente religioso. Também as criaturas são objeto da nossa fé, da nossa esperança, do nosso amor; o que marca todas essas ações como religiosas é que elas nos põem em relação com uma Pessoa de quem, com todas as coisas, dependemos em sentido absoluto e todavia de modo particular, isto é, como criaturas racionais. A essência da religião não pode afinal estar em outra coisa senão em que Deus, precisamente como Deus, seja glorificado e louvado. Toda religião que nisso falha detrai da honra de Deus e nessa mesma medida também deixa de ser genuinamente religiosa. A verdadeira religião consiste naquela disposição do homem que de um lado se enraíza na consciência profunda de sua dependência absoluta de Deus como Criador, Redentor e Santificador, e de outro se estende a andar sinceramente segundo todos os estatutos de Deus.

B. A sede da religião

7. Investigada a essência da religião, é preciso determinar o lugar que ela ocupa no homem, no meio de suas faculdades e funções. Ao mesmo tempo torna-se clara a relação em que a religião está com a ciência, a arte e a moral.

Para a determinação da essência da religião, a pesquisa atual parte quase sempre da religio subjectiva, e o direito, o poder, o valor da religio objectiva são quase geralmente negados. Isso é resultado de uma premissa filosófica: a de que todas as religiões são iguais em essência e diferem apenas na forma. Mas esse indiferentismo religioso é insustentável, porque toda religião inclui necessariamente um conhecer e põe a realidade do seu objeto; e desde que assim é, uma religião cai sob a categoria de verdadeiro e falso. Toda religião está convencida da realidade e da verdade dos seus objetos — deuses, profetas, lugares santos — e sem essa fé é incapaz de existir. De fato, todos aplicam também às religiões a categoria de verdadeiro e falso: o próprio filósofo da religião não crê na verdade dos deuses dos povos. Além disso, as diversas religiões não são de modo algum indiferentes umas para com as outras: consideram-se a si mesmas e umas às outras não como estando numa relação de inferior e superior, mas de verdadeiro e falso. E não podem pensar de outra maneira: o que uma põe, a outra nega; excluem-se mutuamente e não podem ser ambas verdadeiras. Se Cristo é o Enviado do Pai, então Maomé não o é. E, finalmente, o indiferentismo religioso repousa ainda sobre o pensamento pecaminoso de que é indiferente a Deus como Ele é servido; priva-o do direito de determinar o modo do seu serviço, isto é, parte da negação a priori da revelação. A proposição de que as religiões concordam em essência e diferem em forma é, invertida, muito mais correta: diferem em essência e concordam em forma.

Cabe ainda observar que o indiferentismo em matéria de religião pode estender-se mais ou menos longe: o sincretismo tem por indiferente o eclesiástico, o deísmo o cristão, o modernismo a religio objectiva, a moral independente tudo o que é religioso. De fato e objetivamente, porém, nada é indiferente; tudo, até o mínimo, tem o seu lugar e o seu significado determinados no todo. O homem é indiferente apenas àquilo que não conhece. Deus a nada é indiferente, porque tudo conhece.

8. A crença geral de que as religiões são formas diversas de uma só essência procede do pensamento de que a essência da religião não está na religio objectiva, mas na religio subjectiva. É segundo essa disposição, portanto, que se deve fazer a investigação. Mas onde e como deve ela dar-se? Apresentam-se dois métodos, o histórico e o psicológico. O histórico quer determinar a essência da religião a partir da pesquisa histórica e da observação comparativa dos fenômenos religiosos. Mas esse método é de fato impossível: toda investigação das religiões já pressupõe uma noção de religião, e nas religiões justamente a disposição religiosa é o que está mais profundamente escondido e quase escapa a toda observação.

O método psicológico quer explicar psicologicamente a essência da religião e exige por isso que o cultor da ciência da religião seja pessoa religiosa e como tal observe e julgue os fenômenos religiosos. Contra isso, em si, nada há a dizer. Mas então pode contudo exigir-se que tal investigador traga consigo não uma concepção falsa, mas verdadeira e pura, da religião; do contrário testa todas as religiões apenas pela sua representação, talvez muito errônea, por exemplo pela concepção moderna de religião. Se a questão está assim, então entre ortodoxos e modernos não há mais questão de método, mas apenas da verdade ou falsidade da representação religiosa de que ambos partem. E a garantia da verdade da representação que o ortodoxo traz é ao menos tão grande quanto a da concepção moderna: aquele deriva-a da Sagrada Escritura e está de acordo com a igreja de todos os séculos; esta é de curta duração e vale apenas num pequeno círculo de afins.

9. A filosofia da religião adiantou sobretudo três concepções da essência da religio subjectiva. A primeira é a intelectualista, que põe a essência da religião no conhecimento e sua sede no entendimento. Já o gnosticismo dizia que o conhecimento era a redenção do homem interior. Espinosa faz nascer o amor de Deus do conhecimento claro e distinto que o homem tem de si mesmo e de seus afetos, e chama-o amor intelectual: a virtude suprema da mente é conhecer a Deus.

Foi porém Hegel quem elaborou essa determinação intelectualista. Nele o Absoluto é o próprio pensar, que entra nas oposições e delas retorna à identidade consigo mesmo. O mundo inteiro é assim um desenvolvimento do espírito, um processo em que a ideia primeiro se objetiva na natureza e depois, a partir dela, retorna a si mesma no espírito. Um dos momentos que esse processo percorre é a religião. O espírito humano é aquele em quem o Absoluto vem a si e se torna consciente de si mesmo; e essa consciência de si do espírito absoluto no espírito finito é a religião. A religião é, pois, essencialmente saber: não sentimento e não agir, mas saber de Deus pelo espírito finito, ou, objetivamente, o saber que Deus tem de si mesmo por meio do e no espírito finito. "O homem só sabe de Deus na medida em que Deus, no homem, sabe de si mesmo; esse saber é autoconsciência de Deus, mas igualmente um saber que Deus tem do homem." A religião, porém, não é o saber mais alto; é apenas um saber do absoluto na forma de representações sensíveis e históricas. O saber mais alto e verdadeiro só se alcança na filosofia. A religião é, portanto, temporária, uma forma inferior, apropriada aos não desenvolvidos. Feuerbach e Strauss tiraram a consequência e consumaram a ruptura com a religião cristã: o idealismo converteu-se em materialismo.

10. Ora, Hegel viu muito bem que a religião também contém conhecimento e que religião e metafísica estão estreitissimamente aparentadas. A natureza da coisa também o torna claro. A religião é sempre uma relação do homem com um Poder divino que está acima dele; não é nem pode ser, portanto, sem uma concepção determinada de Deus, e esta por sua vez inclui outras concepções a respeito do mundo e do homem, da origem e do fim último das coisas. Essas concepções religiosas têm para o crente significado transcendental: ele está profundissimamente convencido de sua realidade e verdade objetivas. Tão logo comece a considerá-las produtos da sua imaginação, ou desespere da cognoscibilidade do metafísico, a sua religião está acabada. O ceticismo destrói o objeto da religião e com isso a própria religião. Cosmovisão religiosa e cosmovisão teórica, teologia e ciência, não são a mesma coisa, mas tampouco podem lutar uma com a outra: tal dualismo está em conflito irreconciliável com a unidade do espírito humano.

Mas Hegel errou nisto: pôs religião e filosofia em relação de inferior e superior, de representação e conceito, e concebeu-as assim como momentos sucessivos de um só processo. Conteúdo e forma nunca estão tão mecânica e externamente ligados que uma mudança completa desta deixe aquele inalterado: a conversão das representações religiosas em conceitos filosóficos afeta também o próprio conteúdo religioso. A história da filosofia hegeliana logo o trouxe à luz: com ela dos dogmas cristãos não restou praticamente nada; trindade, encarnação, satisfação conservaram os nomes ortodoxos, mas foram interpretados de modo inteiramente diverso.

Um segundo erro de Hegel consistiu em dar a religião e filosofia igual conteúdo e todavia ter aquela por forma inferior desta. Com isso a religião foi rebaixada a um bem relativo, que só ainda tinha valor para os não desenvolvidos, enquanto os filósofos ficavam muito acima dela. Isso repousa num total desconhecimento da essência da religião. Pois religião e ciência são de fato aparentadas, mas também tão diferentes como o céu e a terra. Ainda que muitas vezes tenham o mesmo conteúdo e o mesmo objeto, estes aparecem em ambas sob ponto de vista inteiramente diverso. Na ciência trata-se de conhecimento; na religião, de consolo, paz, bem-aventurança. Nem o mais profundo filósofo ultrapassa, portanto, com todo o seu saber, a religião; pela ciência nunca pode satisfazer a sua necessidade religiosa. A ciência pode dizer-lhe que Deus é e o que Deus é; só pela religião sabe ele que esse Deus é também o seu Deus e o seu Pai. A ciência pode ensinar-lhe que há pecado e graça; só pela religião se torna ele participante da bem-aventurança do perdão e da filiação. Ainda que a ciência pudesse saber tudo e resolver todos os problemas metafísicos, daria apenas conhecimento teórico e nenhuma participação pessoal nos bens da salvação. Não ao saber, mas só ao crer está ligada a bem-aventurança. E está longe de poder a ciência chegar sequer até ali: justamente nas questões mais importantes ela fica sem resposta. Os fenômenos ela observa, mas o númeno lhe permanece oculto. Nunca pode substituir a religião nem compensar a sua perda.

11. Outros, por isso, definiram a religião pela ação moral e buscaram a sua sede na vontade. O pelagianismo, em suas várias formas, preparou essa concepção, na medida em que nessa direção a fé é suplementada por uma nova obediência, ou até só nela consiste: a doutrina é então apenas meio e coisa subordinada; o que importa é uma vida virtuosa e moral. Também Espinosa tem, ao lado da intelectualista, esta visão moralista: a Escritura nada pretende senão obediência, e essa obediência para com Deus consiste unicamente no amor ao próximo.

Mas foi sobretudo Kant quem deu curso a esse moralismo. A razão teórica não pode alcançar o supra-sensível: Deus, liberdade e imortalidade não se deixam provar cientificamente; são apenas postulados da razão prática, para o cumprimento da lei moral e para a obtenção do bem supremo. Crer é assim ter por verdadeiro não por fundamentos teóricos, mas práticos. A moralidade torna-se o fundamento da religião. E a religião, subjetivamente considerada, é o conhecimento de todos os nossos deveres como mandamentos divinos. A religião não está aqui direta e imediatamente fundada na natureza humana, mas apenas por meio do moral; tampouco tem conteúdo e matéria próprios, e não é senão uma determinação ulterior do moral. Kant teve por isso de reconhecer que nenhuma religião se contentou com a sua religião: todas contêm, além da pura fé racional, muitos outros dogmas, uma fé histórica e doutrinária. Mas ele explica isso pela fraqueza da natureza humana, e vê a vocação de purificar cada vez mais a fé eclesiástica e fazê-la passar para a pura fé da razão. A religião de Kant consistiu, de fato, em nada mais que na trilogia racionalista: Deus, virtude, imortalidade. Mas Fichte foi mais longe e não derivou da consciência moral outro postulado senão que haja uma ordem moral do mundo. Aqui a religião foi inteiramente absorvida no moral.

Esse moralismo foi aprofundado em eticismo, ao conceber-se o moral não só psicológica, mas também metafisicamente. A vontade, o bem, o amor é então o ser próprio, o ser primordial, o Absoluto; dele tudo se há de explicar — a Trindade, o mundo, a redenção —, e esse poder do bem realiza-se no mundo humano por meio do moral. É esse o pensamento fundamental de que partiu Schelling em seu segundo período: em última e suprema instância não há outro ser senão o querer; querer é ser primordial. Foi sobretudo Rothe quem transportou esse eticismo para a teologia: a piedade não tem conteúdo próprio, mas coincide in concreto com a verdadeira moralidade, e por isso também a igreja passa para o Estado. Desde então essa direção ética ganhou grande influência. O ético é tido alternadamente como fundamento, como conteúdo ou até como compensação completa da religião. Os modernos éticos definem a religião como devoção ao ideal moral, como pura moralidade; Rauwenhoff põe a essência da religião na fé numa ordem moral do mundo; e aparentado a isso é o movimento ético que, indiferente a toda religião, não reconhece dogma algum senão o amor ao bem.

12. Ora, não sofre dúvida que religião e moral estão na mais estreita conexão uma com a outra. Essa afinidade aparece, em primeiro lugar, em que a própria religião é uma relação moral. A religião repousa de fato sobre uma união mística de Deus e do homem, mas não é ela mesma comunhão substancial de ambos, e sim relação ética do homem com Deus. Deus não tem religião; mas a habitação de Deus no homem cultiva, do lado deste, aquela relação com Deus a que chamamos religião. Essa relação é regulada naquela mesma lei moral que determina também as demais relações do homem; todas as ações religiosas do homem são deveres morais, e a religião inteira é um mandamento moral. Inversamente, a vida moral é por sua vez um serviço de Deus: a escolástica distinguia por isso entre atos elícitos e atos imperados da religião. A fé sem obras, sem amor, é fé morta; o amor a Deus prova-se para nós no amor ao próximo. O próximo deve ser amado por amor de Deus, e o pecado contra o próximo é também pecado contra Deus.

Essa relação entre religião e moral já torna claro que a moral nunca pode constituir nem o conteúdo nem tampouco o fundamento da religião. Apesar da íntima afinidade, ambas são essencialmente distintas. A religião é sempre relação com Deus, a moral com os homens; a religião tem por princípio a fé, a moral o amor; a religião revela-se naquelas ações religiosas que juntas formam o culto interno e externo, a moral manifesta-se nos atos de justiça, misericórdia e honestidade para com o próximo; a religião é regulada na primeira, a moral na segunda tábua da lei. Essa distinção não pode ser mantida pelo panteísmo, porque aí Deus não tem existência própria independente do mundo e uma relação pessoal entre Deus e o homem não é possível; e também o deísmo, por negar a comunhão de Deus e do homem, não pode cultivar religião própria. No ponto de vista teísta, porém, o homem está em relação com o mundo, mas também numa relação própria e distinta com Deus como ser pessoal.

Se assim é, então também a moral não pode ser o fundamento da religião, mas, inversamente, esta é que deve formar a base daquela. A relação com Deus é então a primária e a central, que determina todas as demais relações do homem. Histórica e logicamente a moral está sempre fundada na religião. A religião urge os deveres morais, e a moral busca a sanção da religião. Uma moral autônoma não ocorre na realidade em parte alguma; em toda parte e entre todos os povos a moral encontra o seu último fundamento e o seu último fim na religião. A moral perde o chão sob os pés se lhe é retirada a autoridade divina na consciência. Materialmente, é claro, nem de longe todas as obrigações que os homens têm por morais concordam com a vontade de Deus; mas o formal, aquilo que faz de todo dever um dever incondicional, que liga o homem na consciência, esse é de Deus. Não há moral sem metafísica. Homens, costumes e usos não podem obrigar absolutamente na consciência; só Deus o pode. Por isso a consciência é sacrossanta, e a liberdade de consciência, exigência inexorável e direito inalienável. Religião e moral, culto e cultura, devem estar enraizados num só e mesmo princípio; e é esse o caso no cristianismo: o amor é o cumprimento da lei e o vínculo da perfeição.

13. Finalmente, há também os que atribuem à religião um lugar no sentimento e para isso admitem por vezes até uma faculdade separada no homem. O misticismo e o pietismo já haviam preparado o caminho; mas só pelo romantismo do século passado essa concepção se tornou por algum tempo dominante. O romantismo foi, em geral, uma reação da vida livre e desatada do sentimento contra o classicismo objetivo, que tudo ligava e regulava: o sujeito ergueu-se acima das leis que haviam sido postas à sua expressão espontânea; a imaginação retomou os seus direitos diante do entendimento. Na França o movimento foi introduzido por Rousseau, que constrói toda a sua dogmática e a sua moral deístas a partir do sentimento: o sentimento é mais que a razão, a nossa sensibilidade é anterior à nossa inteligência. Na Alemanha, Herder apontava na história a revelação e a operação da eterna natureza divina. Em toda parte houve ruptura com a objetividade; o sujeito tornou-se princípio absoluto. Sob essa influência Jacobi apelou para o sentimento como a percepção imediata do divino: a religião é sentimento do verdadeiro, do belo e do bom, e tal sentimento nos é inato, como impulso fundamental da natureza humana.

Dessa mesma direção romântica se explica a concepção de religião de Schleiermacher. No segundo dos seus Discursos sobre a religião ele a define como a consciência imediata do ser de todo o finito no e pelo infinito. Não é saber nem agir, não é metafísica nem moral, mas sentimento do infinito. O objeto desse sentimento não é um Deus pessoal com quem o homem viva em comunhão, mas o universo, o mundo como um todo, concebido como unidade. E o órgão para a percepção desse infinito não é o entendimento, a razão ou a vontade, mas o sentimento, a direção do ânimo para o infinito. Mais precisamente esse sentimento não é definido; e ainda mais vaga é a resposta à questão de quando esse sentimento se torna especificamente religioso: parece que ao fim todo sentimento é religioso, desde que despertado pelo todo do mundo. Em todo caso, o sentimento religioso não fica claramente delimitado diante do estético. Na doutrina da fé encontramos em substância a mesma concepção: também aí a piedade é sentimento, a saber, sentimento de dependência absoluta. Há contudo uma dupla diferença: nos Discursos Deus era o todo, na doutrina da fé é a causalidade absoluta do mundo; e correspondentemente o sentimento era ali sentido para o infinito, e aqui autoconsciência imediata e dependência absoluta. Deus adquire aqui mais uma existência própria, distinta do mundo, e percebe-se assim alguma aproximação do teísmo. Mas o pensamento fundamental permanece o mesmo, na medida em que Deus não é concebido como transcendente acima do mundo, mas apenas como imanente nele, e o órgão para o divino não é a razão ou a consciência moral, mas o sentimento.

Essa concepção encontra-se em princípio em todos os que, ao lado da cosmovisão mecânica, tentam ainda construir uma cosmovisão estética e nela incluir a religião, ou até deixá-la nela ser inteiramente absorvida. Lange diz que o núcleo da religião consiste não numa doutrina a respeito de Deus, mas na elevação do ânimo acima da realidade: acima do mundo do que é, o homem constrói pela sua imaginação um mundo de valores, um mundo de poesia; e Opzoomer chegou mesmo a admitir um sentimento religioso separado e nele viu a fonte das representações religiosas.

14. Também nessa visão é sem contradição que o sentimento ocupa um lugar importante na religião. Representações religiosas em si mesmas e sem mais ainda não são religião; esta só surge quando o homem entra numa relação real e pessoal com o objeto dessas representações. E tal relação pessoal com Deus não pode senão agir sobre o sentimento: não deixa o homem frio e indiferente, mas o comove até o mais profundo da alma e cultiva toda uma série de afetos — consciência de culpa, arrependimento, alegria, confiança, paz. Não há poder que mais profunda e mais fortemente arrebate e comova. Todos esses afetos dão à religião calor, intimidade, vida e força, em contraste com a morteza do intelectualismo e a frieza do moralismo. O coração é o centro da religião.

Mas nem por isso o sentimento é já a única função religiosa, a única sede e fonte da religião. O sentimento, tomado aqui não como uma faculdade separada, que não é, mas como o conjunto das paixões e dos afetos, é naturalmente passivo: reage apenas àquilo que pela consciência lhe é posto em contato, e converte-o então em sentimento de prazer ou de desprazer. Nada tem em si mesmo e nada produz de si mesmo. Em si o sentimento, todo afeto, não é nem bom nem mau, nem verdadeiro nem falso. Essas categorias não pertencem propriamente aos afetos, mas às representações, e dos afetos só podem usar-se na medida em que estes sejam despertados por representações verdadeiras ou falsas. Na religião, portanto, não é o sentimento, mas a fé, a representação religiosa, que é o primeiro; mas essa fé age então sobre o sentimento. Quando, porém, como em Schleiermacher, o sentimento é desprendido da fé e feito fonte e sede única da religião, então o sentimento perde a sua qualidade, torna-se inteiramente independente da categoria de verdadeiro e falso, de bom e mau, e de fato todo sentimento como tal já é religioso, verdadeiro, bom e belo. E foi esse o erro terrível de todo o romantismo.

Naturalmente se insinua daí o erro de confundir e identificar o sentimento religioso com o sensual e com o estético. Perigosa é sobretudo a mistura do sentimento religioso com o estético, da religião com a arte. Ambos são essencialmente distintos. A religião é vida, realidade; a arte é ideal, aparência. A arte não pode encher o abismo entre o ideal e a realidade. Ela nos eleva de fato por um momento acima da realidade e nos faz viver no reino dos ideais; mas isso só acontece na imaginação. Não reconcilia a nossa culpa, não nos consola na vida e na morte. Só a religião o faz: ela é e dá realidade; concede vida e paz; põe o ideal como verdadeira realidade e nos faz participantes dele. Por isso o sentimento estético nunca pode substituir o religioso, nem a arte a religião. E contudo ambas estão ligadas: religião e arte estiveram desde o começo estreitamente ligadas, e a última força motriz da arte esteve na religião. No processo religioso também a fantasia toma parte, mas não como princípio gerador, e sim apenas como princípio vivificador: a imaginação só pode configurar matérias e impulsos já dados, nunca pode ela mesma criar a religião. O sentimento religioso, por mais íntimo e profundo que aliás seja, só é puro quando despertado por representações verdadeiras.

15. O resultado é, portanto, que a religião não se limita a uma das faculdades do homem, mas abrange o homem inteiro. A relação com Deus é total e central. Devemos amar a Deus com todo o nosso entendimento, com toda a nossa alma e com todas as nossas forças. Precisamente porque Deus é Deus, ele nos reclama inteiros, em alma e corpo, com todas as faculdades e em todas as nossas relações. Há contudo ordem também nessa relação do homem com Deus, pois cada faculdade no homem existe e opera segundo a sua própria natureza. O conhecimento é o primeiro: não há reto serviço de Deus sem reto conhecimento; do desconhecido não há desejo, o desconhecido não é amado; a fé vem pelo ouvir (Rm 10). Mas esse conhecimento de Deus penetra no coração e ali desperta toda sorte de afetos — temor e esperança, sentimento de culpa e de perdão. E pelo coração ele age por sua vez sobre a vontade: a fé revela-se no amor, nas obras. Cabeça, coração e mão são igualmente tomados pela religião, ainda que cada um a seu modo.

Por isso a religião entra também em contato com todas as demais potências da cultura, especialmente com a ciência, a moral e a arte. Contém dogma, lei e culto, e está por isso em estreita ligação com elas. Abrange o homem inteiro, no seu pensar, sentir e agir, em toda a sua vida. Nada cai fora da religião. Ela estende o seu poder sobre o homem inteiro e sobre a humanidade, sobre a família, a sociedade e o Estado. É o fundamento do verdadeiro, do bom e do belo. Traz unidade, coerência e vida ao mundo e à história. Dela a ciência, a moral e a arte tomaram a sua origem; a ela retornam e nela encontram repouso. O que Deus é para o mundo, isso é a religião para o homem.

E contudo ela se distingue de todas as potências da cultura e conserva, diante de todas elas, a sua independência. A religião é central; a ciência, a moral e a arte são parciais. A religião abrange o ser humano inteiro; a ciência, a moral e a arte estão enraizadas nas diferentes faculdades do intelecto, da vontade e do sentimento. A religião não visa a menos que a bem-aventurança eterna em comunhão com Deus; a ciência, a moral e a arte limitam-se às criaturas. Assim, a religião não se compara com nada: ocupa na vida e na história da humanidade um lugar próprio e independente, único e que a tudo governa. Sua indispensabilidade pode até provar-se pelo fato de que o homem, no próprio momento em que rejeita a religião como ilusão, faz de novo de alguma criatura o seu Deus e busca por outros caminhos compensação para a sua necessidade religiosa.

C. A origem da religião

16. Da origem da religião não há, tampouco como da origem da linguagem, explicação satisfatória. A derivação da religião do medo, da fraude sacerdotal, da ignorância ainda corre em alguns círculos ateus, mas não encontra defesa científica. Darwin busca a religião em germe, embrionariamente, já nos animais. Mas essa analogia não se sustenta: a religião está sempre ligada a veneração, a culto, e um ato religioso como a oração ou o sacrifício não ocorre entre os animais; o objeto próprio da religião, um poder supra-sensível, é-lhes inteiramente desconhecido.

A explicação da religião pelo animismo, pelo fetichismo e pela veneração dos antepassados parte do pressuposto inteiramente arbitrário de que as formas mais baixas de religião são as primitivas, e toma fenômenos acompanhantes da religião por sua essência. Também a tentativa de Max Müller de derivar a religião do sentimento do infinito encontrou, com boa razão, pouca aceitação: a observação do sem-fim na natureza não conduz, em si mesma, ao conceito do infinito, e muito menos ainda à veneração do Infinito. Igualmente inaceitável é a hipótese que busca a origem da religião no impulso de causalidade, na necessidade que o homem tem de uma explicação do mundo e da vida; pois a religião, apesar de toda a afinidade, é essencialmente distinta da metafísica e responde a necessidades inteiramente outras do homem. E poucos são já os que fazem a religião nascer da poesia infantil e do sentimento de gratidão despertados no homem inocente da natureza pela natureza gloriosa e benfazeja: a realidade mostra-nos em toda parte uma dura luta pela vida.

Prevalece por isso hoje uma concepção inteiramente diversa. A natureza põe-se muitas vezes hostil diante do homem e atenta contra a sua existência e a sua vida; mas ele é fraco e impotente. E assim, no conflito angustiado entre si mesmo e a natureza, entre o sentimento de si e o da necessidade, chama em seu auxílio um poder invisível, que está acima da natureza e pode ajudá-lo na luta. O homem quer ser feliz, mas não o é, e por sua própria força tampouco pode vir a sê-lo; por isso, na religião, procura tornar favoráveis a si todos aqueles poderes pessoais que, segundo a sua concepção, estão presentes nos fenômenos da natureza. Essa explicação tem a peculiaridade de fazer a religião nascer não de motivos teóricos, mas decididamente práticos; não de representações, mas de emoções de medo, angústia, sentimento de necessidade. Nessa medida é um retorno ao primus in orbe deos fecit timor de Petrônio.

Não ocorre, porém, em todos na mesma forma. Uns dizem que a religião surgiu do impulso de autoconservação em geral: na religião o homem quer tornar-se participante de algum bem, seja ele sensível e egoísta, seja moral e espiritual; numa palavra, quer uma vida feliz. Outros buscam a origem da religião decididamente na autoafirmação ética, na manutenção, pelo homem, da sua liberdade e da sua dignidade morais diante da coação do mundo físico: desse modo já Kant postulava, com base na natureza moral do homem, a existência de um Deus que pudesse tornar o mundo da necessidade servil ao da liberdade; e do mesmo modo raciocinam Ritschl e Herrmann. E há, por fim, ainda os que reconhecem na religião não só um elemento ético, mas também um místico, e que por isso a consideram fundada na natureza do homem: segundo estes, na religião o homem busca de fato a autoafirmação ética, mas também algo mais e diferente, a saber, comunhão com Deus, vida em Deus.

17. Essa explicação, por mais geralmente aceita que seja, não pode contudo satisfazer. Em primeiro lugar, a ideia de Deus permanece aí sem explicação. Diz-se comumente que o homem natural pensa as forças da natureza por analogia consigo mesmo e julga todas as coisas habitadas por almas e espíritos; o pressuposto da religião seria então a chamada cosmovisão animista. Mas a crença em almas e espíritos que habitam e operam nos fenômenos da natureza ainda não é, em si mesma, religião: essas almas ou espíritos só se tornam objeto religioso quando lhes é transferido o conceito do divino. É preciso, pois, supor no homem certa consciência da divindade, para que ele possa fazer das almas e espíritos o objeto da sua veneração religiosa. O método psicológico tenta inverter a ordem: o homem natural ter-se-ia posto primeiro numa relação religiosa com uma força natural pessoalmente concebida, e só depois teria daí abstraído o conceito do divino. Mas assim não se passa com os homens históricos: todos recebem primeiro, pelo ensino e pela educação, o conceito da Divindade, e sobre essa base desenvolvem uma relação religiosa. Uma relação religiosa com um poder qualquer sempre pressupõe já a ideia de Deus, e esta permanece, naquele método, inexplicada.

Além disso, também a origem da religião no sentido subjetivo permanece incompreensível. Concedida a crença em seres pessoais na natureza: por que e sobretudo quando é que o buscar desses seres algum bem sensível ou moral se torna religião? A religião só surge quando não se pede auxílio em geral, como os homens o buscam também uns dos outros e na arte e na ciência, mas quando de modo inteiramente particular se despertam no coração fé, confiança e consciência de dependência para com um poder divino invisível. A religião sempre pressupõe certa distinção entre Deus e mundo; o objeto da veneração religiosa nunca é a força natural em si, e sim o ser divino que nela se revela.

A maior objeção está, porém, em que com ela Deus se torna nada mais que um socorro na necessidade, um ser cuja existência foi imaginada para prover o homem de algum bem. A religião torna-se meio para satisfazer as necessidades sensíveis ou morais, mas sempre egoístas, do homem; o egoísmo teria sido a fonte e a origem da religião. A primeira forma dessa explicação o diz claramente e sem disfarce. Na segunda a religião é derivada não de necessidades sensíveis, mas morais: a Divindade não é produto de desejos eudemonistas, mas postulado da razão prática. Isso, porém, pouco muda na essência da coisa: o ponto de partida subjetivo e egoísta não é superado, e Deus continua servo do homem. A terceira forma tenta evitar esse egoísmo reconhecendo na religião um elemento místico e fazendo assim de Deus o objeto direto da veneração; mas também aqui esse misticismo foi acrescentado depois, não foi o princípio e a origem da religião. Em qualquer forma em que se apresente, nessa explicação o homem está sempre primeiro em relação com o mundo, e é do conflito com esse mundo que nascem a religião e a ideia de Deus. Deus vem assim a ficar em terceiro lugar; torna-se um ser de desejo, produto do egoísmo do homem. A afinidade de todas essas explicações com a de Feuerbach é manifesta. E se ela fosse a correta, a religião perderia diante da arte e da ciência a sua independência, e o seu fim estaria alcançado tão logo o homem pudesse salvar-se de outro modo.

18. Mas, à parte essas objeções especiais, há sério receio contra o próprio método segundo o qual se investiga a origem da religião. Não pode querer dizer que se trace historicamente a religião dos primeiros homens, pois a história das religiões aqui nos deixa completamente na mão: o método histórico é inutilizável. O método não pode, pois, ser outro senão o psicológico, e este nunca pode ir além de uma hipótese.

Mas qual é a questão que esse método se põe? Nenhuma outra senão esta: de que causas e forças no homem procedeu a religião? Deve, pois, buscar-se aquele ponto em que forças de vida ainda não religiosas do homem se combinam para formar o germe vital da religião. Hipoteticamente, portanto, tem de supor-se um homem tão pouco desenvolvido que nele de religião ainda não haja questão. Uma semen religionis original e inata não pode, nesse ponto de vista, ser reconhecida; pois então esse sentimento original é algo cientificamente inexplicado, um pressuposto já daquilo que se quer explicar. O método psicológico exige, portanto, que a religião seja explicada a partir de fatores no homem que em si mesmos não são religiosos. Mas tal homem sem Deus é puro ente de pensamento, abstração que na realidade nunca existiu.

A religião torna-se assim inteiramente produto do acaso. Um "mero acaso", diz Rauwenhoff, podia levar o homem a fazer de alguma coisa da natureza um deus; outra combinação dos fatores, e nunca teria havido religião. Com isso a religião perde o seu lugar independente, a sua universalidade e a sua necessidade; e também o seu valor e o seu direito deixam então de poder sustentar-se. Pois não é verdade, como afirma Zeller, que o valor da religião seja independente do modo do seu surgimento: se a origem da religião é acidental, ela perde o fundamento firme sobre o qual deve repousar. E se a religião é explicada de tal modo que a existência de Deus de nenhuma maneira precise ser admitida, então, ainda que o seu surgimento fosse psicologicamente uma necessidade, ela é metafisicamente nada mais que um absurdo. O método psicológico tenta de fato compreender a religião sem a existência de Deus. Não é Deus quem cria o homem; é o homem quem cria Deus. A religio subjectiva é a fonte da religio objectiva. Com isso o método psicológico está julgado: está em princípio em conflito com a essência da religião e destrói, portanto, o fenômeno que tem de explicar.

D. Resultado

19. A investigação precedente obriga-nos a escolher outro ponto de partida. A essência e a origem da religião não se deixam explicar pelo método histórico e psicológico; nem o seu direito nem o seu valor se deixam com eles manter. Não serve compreender a religião sem Deus. Deus é o grande pressuposto da religião; a sua existência e a sua revelação são o fundamento sobre o qual toda religião repousa. Diz-se hoje que é acientífico, na explicação de qualquer fenômeno, remontar a Deus; e de fato Ele tampouco pode servir de asylum ignorantiae. Mas é pobre a ciência que não pode levar Deus em conta e busca explicar todas as coisas fora dele e sem ele. Na explicação científica da religião isso vale em duplo sentido, pois aqui Deus é o objeto próprio e direto. A escolha está apenas entre estes dois: ou a religião é loucura, porque Deus não existe ou é absolutamente incognoscível; ou ela é verdade, e então exige e pressupõe, inexoravelmente e em sentido estritamente lógico e científico, a existência e a revelação de Deus. Quem não pode aceitar o primeiro é compelido a admitir o segundo e a reconhecer Deus como o principium essendi de toda religião. Só há religião porque Deus é e quer ser servido pelas criaturas.

Mas a religião exige ainda mais. Pressupõe não só que Deus existe, mas também que Ele se revela e se dá a conhecer de um ou de outro modo. Todas as religiões têm esse conceito de revelação; ele não lhes é imposto de fora, mas flui da sua própria essência. Não há religião sem revelação; a revelação é o correlato necessário da religião. A essência da religião consiste não só, subjetivamente, numa disposição religiosa que se exprime a bel-prazer, mas também numa religio objectiva, num dogma, numa moral e num culto, que têm autoridade para o crente apenas porque, segundo a sua convicção, contêm a vontade e o serviço de Deus. A origem da religião não se deixa indicar historicamente nem explicar psicologicamente, mas aponta necessariamente para a revelação como seu fundamento objetivo. E a distinção entre a religião, de um lado, e a ciência e a arte, de outro, leva-nos pela mão a esse mesmo conceito. A natureza é a fonte do nosso conhecimento e mestra da arte; mas na religião esse mesmo mundo entra em consideração sob outro ponto de vista, a saber, como revelação de Deus. Na religião o homem não busca um aumento do seu conhecimento nem uma satisfação da sua imaginação, mas vida eterna em comunhão com Deus, uma mudança real do seu ser, livramento do pecado e da miséria. Por isso a religião exige outra fonte que a ciência e a arte: pressupõe uma revelação que faça o próprio Deus vir a ele. A religião é, na sua essência e na sua origem, produto da revelação. A revelação é o principium cognoscendi externum da religião.

Se assim se explicam a essência e a origem da religião a partir da revelação, isso não deve entender-se em sentido sociniano, como se a religião não estivesse fundada na natureza do homem, mas tivesse surgido de uma comunicação externa de doutrina. Nesse caso Schelling teria razão em observar que, se uma consciência de Deus devesse advir ao homem primeiro por um ato particular, então os que isso admitem teriam de afirmar um ateísmo originário da consciência humana. Mas o homem é homem porque é imagem de Deus; imediatamente, como homem, ele é um ser religioso. A religião não é a essência do homem — pois a religião não é substância, mas habitus ou virtus —, mas é propriedade essencial da natureza humana, dada com ela como tal e a ela tão inseparavelmente ligada que pelo pecado foi de fato destruída, mas não pôde ser extirpada. Por isso a religião é também universal e tem tanto poder na vida e na história. Pode chamar-se-lhe de modos diversos — semen religionis, sensus divinitatis (Calvino), sentimento religioso (Schleiermacher) —, mas é sempre certa receptividade da natureza humana para tornar-se consciente do divino, à qual a investigação filosófica da religião tem de voltar e na qual tem de terminar. Além disso ela não pode penetrar.

Pois uma de duas: ou a religião é essencialmente própria da natureza humana e assim dada com ela desde o princípio, ou o homem não era originariamente um ser religioso — e assim tampouco um homem, mas um animal — e gradualmente se desenvolveu até sê-lo, e então a religião é acidental e um momento passageiro no processo da evolução. Quem quer manter a religião em sua essência toma o começo do homem como absoluto e o faz, desde o princípio, aparentado com Deus e religiosamente disposto. Segundo a Escritura, o homem foi homem desde o primeiro momento da sua existência, criado à imagem de Deus, e por isso desde esse mesmo momento também um ser religioso. Aquela condição original foi de fato corrompida pelo pecado; mas o homem permanece aparentado com Deus, é geração dele, e continua a buscá-lo.

À revelação objetiva de Deus corresponde, pois, no homem, certa faculdade, certa aptidão da sua natureza, para notar o divino. Deus não faz obra pela metade: não cria apenas a luz, mas também o olho para contemplá-la. Ao externo corresponde o interno. E assim há não só uma revelação externa e objetiva, mas também uma interna e subjetiva. A primeira é o principium cognoscendi externum da religião; a segunda, o principium cognoscendi internum. Ambos estão estreitissimamente ligados um ao outro. A questão de qual dos dois foi primeiro é inteiramente supérflua: no mesmo momento em que Deus se revelou ao homem criando-o à sua imagem, este conheceu a Deus e o serviu, e inversamente. E religião verdadeira e genuína só pode existir numa perfeita harmonia da revelação interna com a externa.

Assim como na ciência, também na religião se distinguem, portanto, três principia. Há religião porque Deus é Deus e como Deus quer ser servido pelas suas criaturas racionais — o principium essendi. Para esse fim Ele se revela ao homem em palavra e obra — principium cognoscendi externum — e o torna subjetivamente capaz de conhecer e amar a Deus por meio dessa revelação — principium cognoscendi internum. As formas em que a revelação se dá externa e internamente podem alterar-se conforme a diferente condição em que o homem, como criatura mutável, se pode encontrar: são diferentes no estado de integridade e no de corrupção, no estado de graça e no de glória. Mas os três principia permanecem os mesmos. E também na religião esses principia encontram o seu fundamento no ser trinitário de Deus: é o Pai quem no Filho e pelo Espírito se revela.

§ 9. Revelação geral

A. O conceito de revelação.

1. A religião, investigada em sua essência e em sua origem, conduz ela mesma ao conceito de revelação. Mas o modo como a revelação é concebida na teologia e na filosofia nem sempre concorda com o próprio conceito. O conceito de revelação traz consigo um certo conteúdo, que precisa ser reconhecido em sua verdade para que se possa continuar falando de revelação; ele não pode servir de bandeira que encobre carga falsa. Em primeiro lugar, revelação é um conceito inteiramente religioso: não a filosofia, mas a religião, não a razão, mas a história o põe em nossas mãos. À ciência e à filosofia deve por isso ser negado o direito de determiná-lo a priori e depois obrigar os fenômenos religiosos reunidos sob o nome de revelação a lhe caber exatamente.

Compreende-se por si que sistemas filosóficos como o panteísmo e o materialismo não podem reconhecer esse conceito em seu direito. Se Deus não existe e, na palavra de Feuerbach, o segredo da teologia é a antropologia, então religião e revelação não são senão uma alucinação do espírito humano. E o panteísmo tampouco pode atribuir realidade alguma à revelação. Se Deus e o homem são um em substância, já não é possível uma relação do homem com Deus como a que se dá na religião; a revelação não pode ser mais do que um nome para a religião no homem, vista do seu lado objetivo. Assim diz Ed. von Hartmann que revelação objetivamente e fé subjetivamente são um só e o mesmo ato, concebido do lado divino e do lado humano; uma revelação externa, objetiva, não existe. É claro em todo caso que a revelação, tal como a religião e a história das religiões no-la dão a conhecer, está com isso inteiramente perdida.

A religião é sempre, com efeito, uma relação do homem com uma pessoa divina, cuja existência objetiva e real está, para a consciência religiosa, acima de toda dúvida. Tão logo o homem começa a duvidar da existência distinta e independente do objeto de sua veneração, está acabada a sua religião. Essa relação do homem com Deus na religião é de natureza ética. A religião não é uma comunhão física ou metafísica de Deus e do homem; não consiste numa unio ou communio physica; não é uma substância do homem nem constitui a sua essentia. Ela pressupõe justamente que Deus e o homem, ainda que aparentados, são no entanto distintos. E ela mesma consiste, não numa relação de Deus com o homem — pois Deus não tem religião —, mas numa relação do homem com Deus, e essa relação não é realis, mas ética e moral: consiste em que o homem conhece a Deus, o ama e vive para Ele. Por mais intimamente que religião e revelação se conexionem, são todavia duas coisas: não dois lados de uma mesma coisa, mas essencial e materialmente diferentes uma da outra. Também na religião o conteúdo nos vem de fora, pela revelação.

2. Revelação, como esse conceito nos é entregue pela religião e é aqui tomado ainda no sentido mais amplo, é toda ação que procede de Deus a fim de trazer o homem àquela relação peculiar com Ele que se designa pelo nome de religião, e nela conservá-lo. Trata-se aqui, antes de tudo, de conceber sempre e em toda parte essa revelação como uma ação, como um ato do lado de Deus. Deus nunca faz nada inconscientemente; faz tudo com pensamento e tem em tudo um propósito. A revelação nunca é uma emanação inconsciente, um transluzir involuntário de Deus em suas obras, mas sempre um dar-se a conhecer consciente, livre e ativo ao homem. Religião e revelação repousam ambas, por sua natureza, sobre o fundamento do teísmo, isto é, sobre a fé de que Deus e o homem existem não separados, mas de fato distintos. Dito com força, a revelação tem sempre por pressuposto que há dois mundos, um sobrenatural e um natural, um celeste e um terreno; e revelação é então toda operação que procede daquele outro mundo invisível para dentro deste mundo visível, a fim de tornar o homem atento às coisas que são de cima.

Os modos e as formas sob os quais Deus se revela podem ser diversos: Deus pode revelar-se direta e imediatamente, e nisso pode servir-se de meios ordinários ou extraordinários. Essas formas são, em certo sentido, de significação subordinada, porque instrumental. Mas a revelação, venha ela a nós por via ordinária ou por via inabitual, é sempre um ato do lado de Deus. Quem assim a entende é, em princípio, supranaturalista, aceite ou não a possibilidade do milagre. A questão do naturalismo e do supranaturalismo não se decide apenas com a chamada revelação sobrenatural; ela já está de fato decidida aqui, à entrada, com o conceito de revelação no sentido geral. O deísmo é insustentável. Só há escolha entre teísmo e panteísmo. O panteísmo não tem revelação e por isso tampouco tem religião. O teísmo é de si supranaturalista, neste sentido: que reconhece uma ordo supra hanc naturam e admite uma operação daquele mundo neste. Religião, revelação, supranaturalismo e teísmo estão e caem juntos.

O fim da revelação não é outro senão despertar e cultivar no homem a religião. Tudo o que a isso visa e a isso serve é revelação em sentido próprio. A revelação coincide com todas as obras de Deus na natureza e na graça; abrange toda a criação e a recriação. As definições usuais, de que a revelação consistiria em comunicação de doutrina ou de vida, já se mostram aqui demasiado estreitas. Em sua revelação Deus está empenhado em pôr o homem numa relação religiosa com Ele; ora, a religião abrange o homem inteiro, com todas as suas faculdades e forças, e na revelação Deus se aproxima do homem inteiro, para ganhá-lo todo para o seu serviço de amor. Mais: a revelação não pode ter por fim pôr o homem individual numa relação religiosa com Deus. A humanidade é um todo, e é ela o objeto do amor de Deus; a revelação tem, pois, por alvo final fazer da própria humanidade, como um todo, um reino, um povo de Deus. A revelação não é um fato isolado que esteja por si na história. É um sistema de atos de Deus, que começa com a criação e termina no novo céu e na nova terra; é instrução, educação, condução, governo, renovação, perdão — é tudo isso junto. Revelação é tudo o que Deus faz para recriar a humanidade à sua imagem e semelhança.

B. Revelação geral e especial.

3. A teologia cristã cedo veio a fazer nessa revelação uma distinção importante. Por um lado, não se podia negar de todo a conexão e a concordância entre a religião dos cristãos e a dos pagãos, entre a teologia e a filosofia; por outro, o cristianismo era todavia uma religião própria e independente, em tudo diferente da dos pagãos. Assim se chegou à distinção entre a revelatio (religio, theologia) naturalis e a supernaturalis. Quanto à substância, ela já se encontra nos mais antigos pais da igreja: Agostinho reconhece uma revelação de Deus na natureza, mas põe ao lado da ratio a auctoritas, a fé, que é a única que conduz ao verdadeiro conhecimento de Deus. Também a divisão posterior da theologia naturalis em insita e acquisita já se acha entre os mais antigos escritores eclesiásticos.

Não tão cedo, porém, se demarcaram as fronteiras entre as duas espécies de revelação. Por muito tempo ainda se tentou provar os dogmas cristãos a partir da natureza e da razão. Mas essa argumentação racional era apenas uma ajuda que vinha depois: os dogmas estavam fixados a priori sobre o fundamento da revelação. Além disso, o conhecimento que se podia obter da natureza limitava-se a alguns articuli mixti, concentrados em torno dos três conceitos Deus, virtude e imortalidade.

Na escolástica, porém, a distinção entre a theologia naturalis e a supernaturalis foi sendo estirada cada vez mais e passou a uma oposição absoluta. Pela revelação natural havia a obter, de Deus e das coisas divinas, algum conhecimento estritamente científico — tão firmemente convencido disso está Tomás que levanta a questão de saber se então a aceitação dessas verdades não perde todo o seu mérito, e responde que no crente permanece sempre a ratio caritatis, a disposição de aceitar também o conhecido, de novo e sempre, como verdadeiro em virtude da autoridade de Deus. A esse conhecimento vindo da natureza acrescentou-se então, pela revelação sobrenatural, o conhecimento dos mysteria; mas este repousa exclusivamente sobre autoridade e é e permanece, do princípio ao fim, matéria de fé. Os mistérios do cristianismo pertencem a uma ordem que não por razão acidental, pelo pecado, mas por sua natureza é, para todo homem, também para o homem sem pecado, sobrenatural em sentido próprio, e por isso nunca pode ser conhecida senão por revelação.

Já se pode observar aqui que, em Roma, saber e crer, ratio e auctoritas, revelação natural e sobrenatural estão dualisticamente lado a lado. Roma reconhece assim, de um lado, o direito do racionalismo no terreno da revelação natural e condena o supranaturalismo excessivo que também nos articuli mixti não julga possível conhecimento algum senão por revelação; e, de outro lado, sustenta o mais rigorosamente possível o supranaturalismo no terreno dos mistérios e condena todo racionalismo que procura nos dogmas escapar à autoridade e à fé. A igreja romana confessa, segundo o Vaticano, que Deus pode ser conhecido com certeza pela luz natural da razão humana a partir das coisas criadas, mas que aprouve a Deus revelar-se a si mesmo e aos decretos eternos de sua vontade ao gênero humano por outra via, e esta sobrenatural.

4. A Reforma adotou essa distinção e, no entanto, deu-lhe em princípio um sentido inteiramente diverso. Os Reformadores admitiam, sem dúvida, uma revelação de Deus na natureza. Mas o homem estava pelo pecado de tal modo entenebrecido no entendimento que também não podia conhecer e entender retamente essa revelação. Havia, portanto, uma dupla necessidade: que Deus incluísse de novo na revelação especial aquelas verdades que em si mesmas são cognoscíveis pela natureza; e que o homem, para tornar a perceber Deus na natureza, fosse primeiro iluminado pelo Espírito de Deus. Para entender a revelação geral de Deus na natureza era objetivamente necessária a revelação especial na Sagrada Escritura, e subjetivamente o homem precisava do olho da fé, para contemplar a Deus também nas obras de suas mãos. Igualmente importante foi a modificação introduzida pela Reforma na concepção da revelação sobrenatural: esta não é sobrenatural em primeiro lugar porque em si mesma pertença a outra ordem e ultrapasse o entendimento também do homem sem pecado, mas é sobrenatural sobretudo porque ultrapassa de longe os pensamentos e os desejos do homem pecador e decaído. Com os Reformadores a theologia naturalis perdeu assim a sua independência racional: não foi tratada à parte, mas incorporada à doutrina cristã da fé.

Mas houve várias causas que retiveram esse princípio da Reforma em seu desenvolvimento. Houve excesso de um lado. O anabatismo rejeitou inteiramente a ordo naturalis; os socinianos rejeitaram total e inteiramente a theologia naturalis e derivaram todo conhecimento de Deus da revelação; e Lutero, no seu combate à doutrina escolástica de que os dons naturais permaneceram íntegros, foi tão longe que proibiu à razão e à filosofia todo direito de falar in theologicis e chamou a razão, em matéria de religião, cega de todo. A Fórmula de Concórdia põe a ênfase de modo tão unilateral sobre a treva e a impotência do homem natural em matéria de religião, que a ligação da revelação especial com a geral fica inteiramente rompida.

A reação não podia deixar de vir. No anabatismo e no socinianismo o supranaturalismo excessivo converteu-se em racionalismo. Lutero foi forçado, por não poder afinal negar toda percepção e todo juízo à razão, a fazer uma distinção aguda entre o espiritual e o mundano; e em suas pegadas os teólogos luteranos distinguiram dois hemisférios, um inferior e outro superior: nas coisas terrenas a razão ainda é livre e capaz de muito bem, aqui ela é até certo ponto independente da fé. Também Calvino, embora por sua doutrina da gratia communis em condição muito mais favorável, nem sempre foi além da velha antítese dualista entre revelatio naturalis e supernaturalis. A razão recebeu assim de novo alguma autoridade ao lado da fé; parecia que era livre e independente num domínio, por menor que fosse. Com esse direito concedido, ela fez conquistas e foi pouco a pouco estendendo o seu poder: primeiro nas coisas civis, depois na ciência, logo na filosofia e por fim também na teologia ela se levanta ao lado e contra a fé. Pelo deísmo inglês e pelo racionalismo alemão a theologia naturalis ou rationalis cresceu de tal modo em poder e prestígio que rejeitou a theologia revelata como inteiramente desnecessária. Herbert de Cherbury deu à religio naturalis cinco artigos por conteúdo: que há um Deus supremo; que Ele deve ser cultuado; que a virtude e a piedade são as partes principais do culto divino; que é preciso arrepender-se dos pecados; e que da bondade e da justiça divinas se dá prêmio ou pena, tanto nesta vida quanto depois desta vida.

Mas, depois de banir a theologia revelata, ela por sua vez foi também julgada. Kant argumentou em sua crítica da razão pura que esta se limita aos fenômenos sensivelmente perceptíveis e não pode penetrar nem ao suprassensível nem ao sobrenatural. A história das religiões mostrou que nenhuma religião se bastou com a revelatio naturalis, que em parte alguma existiu uma religio naturalis e que todas as religiões são positivas. E a crítica da Escritura minou a revelatio supernaturalis e apagou as fronteiras entre ela e a revelatio naturalis. Tornou-se assim geral a convicção de que, para obter algum conhecimento de Deus, era preciso tomar outro caminho que o da razão e o da demonstração científica, a saber, o da fé, ou o da experiência moral, ou o da imaginação. A theologia e a religio naturalis, e com elas também a revelatio naturalis, perderam o seu valor; as provas da existência de Deus, da alma e da imortalidade foram abandonadas e banidas da dogmática. Tudo indica, contudo — como se mostrará no locus de Deo —, que as provas da existência de Deus voltam a subir em valor. O bom pensamento que jaz na velha theologia naturalis vai sendo aos poucos reconhecido de novo.

5. A Escritura conhece, sim, o conceito de uma ordem fixa da natureza, mas na revelação não faz distinção entre o natural e o sobrenatural: usa para ambos as mesmas palavras — descobrir, manifestar, revelar —, também para a revelatio naturalis (Jó 12.22; Rm 1.18,19). A rigor, do ponto de vista da Escritura toda revelação, também a que se dá na natureza, é sobrenatural. A própria palavra nada inclui a respeito do modo pelo qual algo se torna manifesto; diz apenas que algo que estava oculto vem à luz. Na esfera religiosa ela indica que Deus possui uma vida própria, independente, distinta da natureza, e pode agora, de seu ocultamento, vir de um modo ou de outro à vista das criaturas racionais. De revelação em sentido próprio só pode, portanto, falar quem reconhece o supranatural, uma ordo supra hanc naturam. A distinção entre revelatio naturalis e supernaturalis não é tirada da ação de Deus, que se exprime numa e noutra revelação, mas do modo como essa revelação se dá, a saber, per ou praeter hanc naturam.

Em sua origem, toda revelação é supranatural. Esse operar de Deus para fora começou com a criação. A criação é a primeira revelação de Deus, começo e fundamento de toda revelação subsequente; o conceito bíblico de revelação tem sua raiz no de criação. Pela criação Deus saiu primeiro para fora, para as criaturas, e a elas se revelou. Quando Deus cria o mundo por sua Palavra e o faz viver por seu Espírito, aí já estão traçadas as linhas fundamentais de todas as revelações posteriores. Mas à criação liga-se imediatamente a providência, que é também um poder e um ato onipotente e onipresente de Deus. Tudo o que é e acontece é obra de Deus em sentido próprio, e para o piedoso uma revelação de suas virtudes e perfeições. Assim veem a natureza e a história a Escritura: criação, conservação e governo são uma só e poderosa revelação contínua de Deus.

Para a Escritura, também religião e revelação sobrenatural estão ligadas do modo mais estreito. Ela relata tal revelação não só depois, mas já antes da queda. A relação de Deus e do homem no status integritatis é pintada como um convívio pessoal: Deus fala ao homem e dá-lhe um mandamento que ele não podia conhecer por natureza. Também o foedus operum não é um foedus naturae no sentido de surgir por si mesmo da disposição natural do homem, mas é fruto de revelação sobrenatural. E porque o foedus operum não é outra coisa senão a forma da religião no homem criado à imagem de Deus, pode-se dizer que a Escritura não consegue pensar religião pura sem revelatio supernaturalis. O sobrenatural não conflita com a natureza do homem; pertence, por assim dizer, à essência do homem. O homem é imagem de Deus e pela religião está com Deus em relação direta; a natureza dessa relação implica que Deus se revele ao homem criado à sua imagem tanto objetiva quanto subjetivamente. Todas as religiões são por isso também positivas e repousam não apenas sobre revelação natural, mas sempre também sobre revelação sobrenatural real ou suposta.

E todos os homens reconhecem por natureza o supranatural. O naturalismo é, como o ateísmo, uma invenção da filosofia, mas não tem apoio na natureza humana. Enquanto a religião pertencer à essência do homem, o homem também será e permanecerá supranaturalista. Todo crente, de qualquer direção, pode ser naturalista com a cabeça: com o coração é supranaturalista. Quem quer banir o supranatural da religião, e portanto da oração, do exercício da comunhão com Deus, mata a própria religião. Pois a religião pressupõe parentesco e comunhão reais com Deus e é inseparável da fé de que Deus está supra naturam e de que pode dispor dela segundo o seu beneplácito, de que faz a ordem da natureza servir à ordem moral, a physis ao ethos. O teísta que quer ser deveras teísta e no entanto combate a revelação sobrenatural não está, com essa negação, quite com ela: ou tem de recuar ao deísmo ou ao panteísmo, ou tem de avançar e aceitar também a possibilidade da revelação sobrenatural. Não há religio naturalis; a trilogia racionalista é insustentável. A única verdadeira antítese ao reconhecimento do supranatural não é, portanto, o deísmo racionalista, mas o naturalismo, isto é, a crença de que não existe outro poder mais alto do que o que está presente na atual ordem da natureza. Mas então cai também todo direito de crer no triunfo do bem, na vitória final do reino de Deus. Pois o bem, o verdadeiro, a ordem moral do mundo são coisas que em si mesmas não têm poder de se realizar; e a esperança de que os homens os levem ao domínio é desmentida todos os dias pela experiência. Só então o seu triunfo está assegurado, se Deus é um ser pessoal e onipotente e pode conduzir toda a criação, apesar de toda resistência, ao fim por Ele pretendido. Religião, moralidade, fé na vitória do bem, cosmovisão teísta, fé num Deus pessoal — tudo isso está inseparavelmente ligado ao supranaturalismo. A ideia de Deus e da religião envolve a de revelação.

6. A revelação sobrenatural não pode, contudo, ser identificada com a revelação imediata. Antigamente chamava-se imediata toda revelação que vinha ao próprio recipiente sem intermediário, e mediata a que era transmitida a outros por anjos ou homens; e, na medida em que aos profetas e apóstolos a revelação vinha em geral pessoalmente, ao passo que a nós só nos vem por seus escritos, aquela podia ser oposta a esta como revelatio immediata a revelatio mediata.

Em sentido estrito não há revelação imediata, nem na natureza nem na graça. Deus serve-se sempre de um meio, tomado das criaturas ou livremente escolhido, pelo qual se revela aos homens: por sinais e símbolos faz sentir a sua presença, por atos proclama as suas virtudes, por fala e linguagem dá a conhecer a sua vontade e o seu pensamento. Mesmo onde se revela interiormente por seu Espírito na consciência, essa revelação se dá sempre organicamente e portanto por via mediata. A distância entre Criador e criatura é grande demais para que o homem possa perceber a Deus diretamente: finitum non est capax infiniti. Tal como Deus é e fala em si mesmo, nenhuma criatura o pode contemplar ou compreender. A revelação é por isso sempre um ato de graça: nela Deus desce até a sua criatura, feita à sua imagem. Toda revelação é antropomorfismo, é uma certa encarnação de Deus; dá-se sempre em certas formas, em determinados modi. Na revelatio naturalis os seus pensamentos divinos e eternos são depositados nas criaturas de modo criatural, para que possam ser entendidos pelo homem que pensa. E na revelatio supernaturalis Ele se liga ao espaço e ao tempo, assume linguagem e fala humanas e serve-se de meios criaturais. A revelação natural e a sobrenatural, portanto, segundo o ensino da Escritura, andam juntas no status integritatis: não são uma antítese, mas se completam. Ambas são mediatas e ligadas a formas e meios determinados; ambas repousam sobre o pensamento de que Deus se inclina em graça até o homem; e ambas têm estes modi: que Deus faz sentir a sua presença, ouvir a sua voz, contemplar as suas obras. Por aparição, palavra e ato Deus se manifestou aos homens desde o princípio.

Notável é agora o fato de que o pecado, que entra no mundo pelo primeiro homem, não produz mudança alguma no fato mesmo da revelação. Deus continua a revelar-se; não se retira. Antes de tudo, por toda a Escritura nos é ensinada uma revelatio naturalis. Ele se revela na natureza ao nosso redor, nela ostentando o seu eterno poder e divindade (Rm 1.18-20); revela-se na história dos povos e das pessoas (At 17.26); revela-se também no coração e na consciência de cada ser humano (Rm 2.14,15). Essa revelação de Deus é geral, em si mesma perceptível e inteligível para todo homem. A natureza e a história são o livro da onipotência e da sabedoria, da bondade e da justiça de Deus. Todos os povos reconheceram essa revelação até certo ponto; até a idolatria pressupõe que nas criaturas se revelam o poder e a divindade de Deus.

Mas, segundo a Escritura, essa revelação geral não é, em sentido estrito, apenas natural: ela contém também elementos sobrenaturais. A revelação que se dá imediatamente após a queda tem caráter supranatural (Gn 3.8ss.) e, pela tradição, torna-se propriedade da humanidade. A aliança que depois do dilúvio se estabelece com Noé, e nele com toda a nova humanidade, é uma aliança da natureza e todavia já não natural, mas fruto de graça sobrenatural imerecida. Mais de uma vez fala a Escritura de milagres que Deus operou diante dos olhos dos pagãos e de revelações sobrenaturais que couberam a não israelitas. Uma operação de poderes sobrenaturais no mundo pagão não é a priori nem impossível nem sequer improvável. E, inversamente, nem tudo o que pertence ao domínio da graça especial é, em sentido estrito, sobrenatural: passam-se períodos inteiros na história de Israel, muitos dias e anos na vida de Jesus e igualmente na dos apóstolos, em que nenhuma revelação sobrenatural ocorre e que no entanto formam parte importante da historia revelationis. Por isso a distinção entre revelação natural e sobrenatural não é idêntica à distinção entre geral e especial; e, para designar a dupla revelação que está na base das religiões pagãs e da religião da Escritura, esta última distinção é preferível à primeira.

C. Insuficiência da revelação geral.

7. Essa revelatio generalis é, porém, por várias razões insuficiente. Nisto todos os teólogos cristãos são unânimes. Agostinho não nega que também entre os pagãos haja alguma verdade da qual os cristãos podem tirar proveito; mas a filosofia não é o verdadeiro caminho da salvação: ela pode ensinar só a poucos e só pouco; conhece bem o alvo, mas não o caminho que ao alvo conduz; falta-lhe o amor necessário ao conhecimento da verdade, e é estorvada por sua própria superbia, pois só a humilitas é o caminho da vida. Por isso é ainda necessário outro caminho para a verdade, a saber, a auctoritas. A igreja romana exprimiu claramente a insufficientia da teologia natural no Catecismo Romano e no Vaticano, e os teólogos protestantes não julgaram de outro modo.

A suficiência da revelação geral e da religio naturalis sobre ela edificada foi em tempo mais antigo ensinada apenas pelos pelagianos, que admitiam um triplo caminho de salvação, a saber, a lex naturae, a lex Mosis e a lex Christi. Houve também na igreja cristã, sempre, alguns teólogos que julgaram mais favoravelmente a respeito dos pagãos e creram também na possibilidade de sua salvação; mas neles essa crença repousava, em sua maior parte, não sobre a doutrina da suficiência da revelação geral, e sim sobre a suposição de que Deus operava também entre os pagãos com a sua graça especial. Em contraste, a completa suficiência da revelação geral e da religião natural foi ensinada no século XVIII pelos deístas e racionalistas.

Da insuficiência da revelação geral dificilmente pode haver dúvida. Em primeiro lugar, ela aparece no fato de que essa revelação nos fornece, quando muito, algum conhecimento da existência de Deus e de alguns de seus atributos, como a bondade e a justiça, mas nos deixa absolutamente desconhecedores da pessoa de Cristo, que é o único caminho para o Pai (Jo 14.6; At 4.12). A revelação geral é, portanto, insuficiente para o homem enquanto pecador: não sabe de graça nem de perdão; muitas vezes é até uma revelação de ira (Rm 1.20). Graça e perdão, que devem ser a essência da religião, são ato de beneplácito, não de natureza e necessidade. A revelação geral pode, quando muito, dar a conhecer algumas verdades, mas não traz fatos nem história, e assim nada muda no ser. Ilumina de algum modo a consciência e refreia o pecado, mas não recria a natureza do homem e do mundo. Pode infundir temor, mas não confiança e amor.

Em segundo lugar, o conhecimento que a revelação geral pode fornecer não é apenas escasso e insuficiente, mas também incerto, sempre misturado com erro e, para a imensa maioria dos homens, inatingível. A história da filosofia tem sido uma história de sistemas que se demolem uns aos outros: entre os gregos terminou em ceticismo, na Idade Média em nominalismo e agora em agnosticismo. As verdades mais necessárias à religião — existência e ser de Deus, origem e destino do homem e do mundo, pecado e perdão, prêmio e castigo — foram alternadamente ensinadas e contestadas; na filosofia não há certeza suficiente a obter sobre todas essas questões. Mas ainda que alguns pensadores tenham chegado a algum conhecimento verdadeiro e puro, ele veio sempre misturado com toda sorte de erro; todo sistema filosófico tem as suas lacunas e os seus defeitos. Também na moral há grande diferença e incerteza.

E ainda que os filósofos tivessem possuído a doutrina mais bela e mais pura, ter-lhes-ia faltado a autoridade para lhe assegurar entrada entre o povo. Por isso muitas vezes, na prática da vida, eles mesmos se alinham de novo com a crença e os costumes populares; ou se afastam do povo em altivez. Sua contenda mútua e o contraste entre a sua doutrina e a sua vida enfraqueceram-lhes a influência. E ainda que nada disso se desse, a doutrina dos filósofos jamais teria podido tornar-se ou permanecer a religião do povo, porque em matéria de religião um clericalismo intelectual e uma hierarquia científica são intoleráveis. Por isso Tomás tinha inteira razão ao dizer que, mesmo naquelas verdades que a revelação geral nos dá a conhecer, revelação e autoridade continuam necessárias, porque esse conhecimento só é próprio para poucos, exigiria tempo demasiado longo de investigação e ainda então permaneceria imperfeito e incerto.

Em terceiro lugar, a insuficiência da revelação natural é claramente demonstrada pelo fato de que nenhum povo se contentou com a chamada religio naturalis. A religião geral dos deístas, a religião moral da razão de Kant, a piedade e a obediência de Espinosa nada são senão puras abstrações, que na realidade nunca existiram. Ainda que os cinco artigos de Herbert ou a trilogia racionalista de Kant fossem inteiramente certos e rigorosamente demonstráveis, seriam mesmo assim impróprios para fundar uma religião, uma igreja; pois a religião é algo essencialmente diverso da ciência, tem outra fonte e outro fundamento. O século XIX, com o seu sentido histórico, logo viu que tal religio naturalis em parte alguma existe e em parte alguma pode existir. Hoje é geralmente concedido que todas as religiões são positivas e repousam sobre revelação.

D. Valor da revelação geral.

8. Com isso, contudo, a revelação geral não perdeu o seu valor e a sua significação. Em primeiro lugar, ela é de grande significação para o mundo pagão: é o fundamento firme e permanente das religiões pagãs. A Sagrada Escritura profere juízo severo sobre o etnicismo e declara a sua origem na apostasia do puro conhecimento de Deus. Todavia esse conhecimento, que era a posse original do homem, ainda por algum tempo continuou a produzir efeitos, e a criação revelava o eterno poder e a divindade de Deus (Rm 1.20); mas os homens, entontecidos em seus pensamentos e entenebrecidos no coração, conhecendo a Deus não o glorificaram como Deus nem lhe deram graças. Além disso, a confusão das línguas e a dispersão dos povos certamente também foi de grande influência para o desenvolvimento do politeísmo.

A unidade de Deus, e com ela a pureza da religião, perdeu-se no fracionamento da humanidade em povos. Cada povo recebeu o seu deus próprio, nacional. E, uma vez perdido o conceito da unidade e da absolutidade de Deus, ao lado daquele deus nacional puderam pouco a pouco ser reconhecidos e adorados como deuses outros poderes; a ideia do divino torna-se impura e desce, os diversos poderes da natureza vêm ao primeiro plano, a fronteira entre o divino e o criatural é apagada, e a religião pode até degenerar em animismo e fetichismo, em feitiçaria e magia. O caráter das religiões pagãs consiste por isso, segundo a Escritura, em idolatria: os deuses dos pagãos são ídolos, não existem, são mentira e vaidade (Is 41.29; 1Co 8.5). A condição em que se acha o mundo pagão, fora de Cristo, é descrita como treva, como ignorância, como pecado e injustiça.

O mundo pagão é, em sua origem, em seu caráter e em seu destino, um problema temeroso. Em si mesma, a solução que a Escritura lhe dá não só não é absurda, como até se recomenda por sua simplicidade e naturalidade. Contudo a filosofia não se contentou com essa solução e avançou outra concepção, que está em oposição direta à da Escritura. A teoria da evolução, que agora serve de explicação, está igualmente em conflito com a Escritura: assim como a ciência natural tenta derivar o vivo do sem-vida, o homem do animal, o mais alto do mais baixo, assim a ciência da religião procura explicar a religião a partir de uma condição anterior sem religião, e a religião pura a partir das formas primitivas do fetichismo e do animismo.

Por mais geralmente que essa doutrina da evolução seja aceita, ela não tem em todo caso, até aqui, nível mais alto que o de uma hipótese. E não explica os fenômenos: na ciência natural esbarra sempre ainda nos fatos da vida, da consciência, da linguagem, da vontade; e na ciência da religião a origem e a essência, a verdade e o valor da religião permanecem um protesto contra as suas propostas. Que, além disso, os povos naturais representem a condição original da humanidade e que o fetichismo e o animismo sejam as formas mais antigas de religião são opiniões que carecem de fundamento suficiente e por isso encontram também cada vez mais contradição: Max Müller reconhece como religião primitiva um chamado henoteísmo. Também a opinião de que as diversas religiões são momentos sucessivos de um processo de desenvolvimento é muito menos provável do que aquela que as tem por degenerações de uma espécie.

9. Mas, por mais severamente que a Escritura julgue o caráter do paganismo, é justamente a revelação geral que ela ensina que nos põe em condição e nos dá o direito de reconhecer todos os elementos de verdade que também estão presentes nas religiões pagãs. O estudo das religiões esteve outrora exclusivamente a serviço da dogmática e da apologética: os fundadores de religiões, como Maomé, eram simplesmente tidos por impostores, cúmplices do diabo. Mas, desde que aquelas religiões se tornaram mais exatamente conhecidas, essa explicação mostrou-se insustentável; estava em conflito tanto com a história quanto com a psicologia. Segundo a Sagrada Escritura há também entre os pagãos uma revelação de Deus, uma iluminação do Logos, uma operação do Espírito de Deus (Jo 1.9; Rm 2.14; At 17.22-30). Tomás diz não só que o homem, como ser racional, pode conhecer sem graça sobrenatural as verdades naturais, mas testifica também que nenhuma doutrina é falsa a ponto de não misturar por vezes algumas verdades às falsidades.

Os reformados estavam em posição ainda melhor por sua doutrina da gratia communis. Por ela ficavam, de um lado, resguardados do erro do pelagianismo, que ensinava a sufficientia da theologia naturalis; e, de outro lado, podiam todavia reconhecer tudo o que de verdadeiro, belo e bom havia também no mundo pagão. Habitualmente, porém, essa operação da gratia communis era vista na vida moral e intelectual, social e política, e menos nas religiões, que eram derivadas do engano ou de influências demoníacas. Mas não só na ciência e na arte, na moral e no direito, também nas religiões há a observar uma operação do Espírito de Deus e de sua graça geral. Calvino falou com razão de uma semen religionis, de um sensus divinitatis.

Pois os fundadores de religiões não foram impostores nem instrumentos de Satanás, mas homens que, dispostos religiosamente, tinham uma vocação a cumprir para o seu tempo e para o seu povo. As diversas religiões, por mais misturadas com erro, satisfizeram até certo ponto as necessidades religiosas e concederam consolo na tristeza da vida; não só gritos de desespero, mas também tons de confiança, esperança, resignação e paciência nos chegam do mundo pagão. Todos os elementos e formas essenciais à religião — conceito de Deus, consciência de culpa, necessidade de redenção, sacrifício, sacerdócio, templo, culto, oração — ocorrem em forma corrompida, mas assim mesmo ocorrem nas religiões pagãs. Por isso o cristianismo não está diante do paganismo exclusivamente de modo antitético: é também o seu cumprimento. O cristianismo é a religião verdadeira e por isso também a mais alta e a mais pura, é a verdade de todas as religiões. O que no etnicismo é caricatura, aqui é o original vivo; o que ali é aparência, aqui é essência; o que ali se busca, aqui se encontra. O cristianismo é a explicação do etnicismo. Cristo é o Prometido a Israel e o Desejado de todos os pagãos.

10. Mas a revelatio generalis tem significação não só para o mundo pagão, mas ainda dentro da religião cristã e para ela. O seu valor, contudo, não está em que ela nos forneça uma theologia ou religio naturalis, uma fé moral racional que se bastasse a si mesma e pudesse dispensar tudo o que na religião é positivo: tal religio naturalis não se encontra em parte alguma e tampouco é viável. Nem é intenção da revelatio generalis que o cristão dela tire o seu primeiro conhecimento acerca de Deus, do mundo e do homem, para depois completá-lo com o conhecimento de Cristo. Ritschl e os seus apresentam a coisa como se o dogmático, nos loci de Deo e de homine, tomasse a matéria apenas da revelatio generalis e só depois fosse haurir a matéria da Sagrada Escritura; o dogmático estaria primeiro fora e diante da fé cristã. Mas este não foi o método da dogmática da Reforma. Quando o cristão confessa a sua fé em Deus Pai, Todo-poderoso, Criador do céu e da terra, isso é, no pleno sentido, fé cristã. E o dogmático não se despe primeiro dessa sua fé para compilar da revelação geral uma doutrina racional sobre Deus e o homem; ele haure o seu conhecimento única e exclusivamente da revelatio specialis, isto é, da Sagrada Escritura. Este é o seu principium unicum. Mas ele não limita essa revelação especial à pessoa de Cristo tal como é pintada em algumas partes da Escritura: toda a revelação resumida na Escritura é uma revelatio specialis que nos vem em Cristo. Cristo é o centro e o conteúdo de toda essa revelação especial, que começa no Paraíso e se completa no Apocalipse.

A revelação especial reconheceu e valorizou a geral, e até a assumiu e como que a assimilou. E assim faz também o cristão. Ele está na fé cristã, na revelatio specialis, e de lá olha também para a natureza e para a história, e ali descobre vestígios do mesmo Deus que em Cristo veio a conhecer como seu Pai. Justamente como cristão, pela fé, ele vê a revelação de Deus na natureza muito melhor e mais claramente do que antes podia percebê-la. O homem psíquico não entende a fala de Deus na natureza e na história; esquadrinha o universo inteiro sem encontrar Deus. Mas o cristão vê Deus em tudo e tudo em Deus. Por essa revelação geral ele se sente em casa no mundo: é a mão paterna de Deus que também na ordem natural lhe traz todas as coisas.

Nessa revelação geral ele tem, além disso, um terreno firme sobre o qual pode encontrar-se com todos os não cristãos. Por sua fé cristã pode ocupar posição isolada, pode não conseguir provar a outros as suas convicções de fé; na revelação geral tem, contudo, um ponto de contato com todos os que trazem o nome de homem. Subjetivamente, no crente o conhecimento de Deus a partir da natureza é posterior ao que vem da Sagrada Escritura: todos nós nascemos numa religião positiva determinada, e só o olho da fé vê Deus na criação. Mas objetivamente a natureza precede a graça, a revelatio generalis precede a revelatio specialis: gratia praesupponit naturam. A negação de que a religio e a theologia naturalis sejam suficientes e tenham existência própria e independente em nada tira ao fato de que da criação, da natureza e da história, do coração e da consciência vem a cada homem uma fala de Deus. Ninguém escapa ao poder da revelatio generalis. A ideia e a existência de Deus, a independência espiritual e o destino eterno do homem, a origem e o fim do mundo, a ordem moral do mundo e o seu triunfo final são problemas que não deixam repouso ao espírito humano. A necessidade metafísica não se deixa suprimir, e é a revelatio generalis que a mantém viva. Ela impede que o homem se rebaixe a animal; liga-o ao mundo suprassensível; mantém nele a consciência de que foi criado à imagem de Deus e de que não encontra repouso senão em Deus. A revelatio generalis conserva a humanidade, a fim de que e até que ela seja encontrada e restaurada por Cristo. Nessa medida a theologia naturalis foi outrora chamada com razão uma praeambula fidei, uma preparação e educação divina para o cristianismo. A revelação geral é o fundamento sobre o qual a especial se levanta.

E por fim a rica significação da revelação geral vem também a expressar-se nisto: que ela mantém em conexão indissolúvel a natureza e a graça, a criação e a recriação, o mundo da realidade e o mundo dos valores. Sem a revelação geral, a especial perde a sua coerência com todo o ser e a vida do cosmo; falta então o elo que liga um ao outro o reino da natureza e o reino dos céus. Quem, com a filosofia crítica, nega a revelatio generalis faz esforço vão para reconquistar, pela via da razão prática ou da fantasia, o que perdeu; perdeu o ponto de apoio de sua fé. A vida religiosa fica solta ao lado do ser humano ordinário; a imagem de Deus torna-se um donum superadditum; a religião torna-se, como nos socinianos, estranha à natureza humana; o cristianismo torna-se um fenômeno sectário e é privado de sua catolicidade; a graça fica hostil diante da natureza. Consequente com isso é admitir uma separação radical entre o poder do bem e o poder da natureza: ethos e physis jazem totalmente separados, o mundo da realidade e o dos valores nada têm a ver um com o outro. Em princípio o maniqueísmo é renovado.

Em contraste, a revelatio generalis mantém a unidade da natureza e da graça, do mundo e do reino de Deus, da ordem natural e da moral, da criação e da recriação, da physis e do ethos, da santidade e da bem-aventurança, e em tudo isso a unidade do Ser divino. É um só e o mesmo Deus que na revelação geral a ninguém deixa sem testemunho e que na revelação especial se dá a conhecer como Deus de graça. Revelação geral e especial operam assim uma sobre a outra. A natureza precede a graça, a graça aperfeiçoa a natureza; a razão é aperfeiçoada pela fé, a fé pressupõe a natureza.

§ 10. Revelação especial

A. Meios da revelação especial.

1. A história ensina que nenhuma religião se contenta com a revelação geral. Também a religião cristã apela para uma revelação especial; a Escritura é o livro da revelatio specialis. As palavras com que ela exprime esse conceito são principalmente dois verbos, que traduzimos por "revelar" (apokalyptein) e "manifestar" (phaneroun). A revelação remove a causa pela qual algo estava oculto; a manifestação torna patente a coisa mesma. Ligado a isso está que a manifestação é sempre usada da revelação objetiva, e a revelação, tanto da objetiva quanto da subjetiva; que a manifestação designa mais de uma vez a revelação geral e a especial, ao passo que a revelação designa quase sempre a especial.

A religião cristã concorda com todas as religiões históricas em apelar para uma revelação, e a concordância vai ainda mais longe, até às formas e aos modos em que a revelação se dá. Todos os meios de revelação se reduzem a três. Em primeiro lugar, a fé religiosa exige um Deus que esteja perto e não longe; esteve por isso, em todos os tempos, convencida da aparição dos deuses sob alguma forma, sob algum sinal, em algum lugar. A idolatria, no sentido mais amplo, nasceu da necessidade de um Deus que esteja perto. Em segundo lugar, todas as religiões têm por próprio o crer que os deuses de algum modo revelam seu pensamento e sua vontade, seja por homens que lhes servem de órgãos, seja artificial e exteriormente pelas estrelas, pelo voo das aves, pelas entranhas da vítima: a mantica, a divinatio. E, finalmente, em todas as religiões está presente a crença numa intervenção especial e num socorro dos deuses em tempos de necessidade; largamente difundida está a magia, isto é, a arte pela qual o homem, com meios misteriosos, põe a serviço de si o poder divino e faz aparecer efeitos maravilhosos. Teofania, mântica e magia são os caminhos pelos quais toda revelação vem ao homem.

Essa crença religiosa geral em aparição, predição e milagre não se explica, em todo caso não exclusivamente, por engano ou por operação demoníaca, nem tampouco por desconhecimento da ordem da natureza: é um elemento necessário em toda religião. A necessidade religiosa busca satisfação; e, onde não a encontra numa revelação real de Deus que venha ao seu encontro, busca-a pelo caminho do culto de invenção própria. A superstição é a forma bastarda da religião verdadeira, a caricatura da fé. Mas a religião do Antigo e do Novo Testamento decididamente nada quer ter em comum com adivinhos e feiticeiros: opõe-se-lhes por princípio, não os reconhece nem os tolera, proíbe-os do modo mais enfático. Pode haver às vezes concordância de forma, mas há diferença de essência. Teofania, mântica e magia são, como o sacrifício, o templo, o sacerdócio, o culto, elementos essenciais da religião. Ocorrem por isso em todas as religiões, também na de Israel e no cristianismo. A distinção entre o cristianismo e as outras religiões não está em que ali faltem esses elementos necessários, mas nisto: que tudo o que no paganismo ocorre em caricatura tornou-se em Israel sombra e imagem, e aqui tornou-se realidade verdadeira e espiritual.

Essa distinção de princípio está em que, na Sagrada Escritura, a iniciativa na religião não é tomada pelo homem, mas por Deus. Nas religiões pagãs é o homem que busca a Deus; ele tenta de todos os modos fazer Deus descer até si, e arrasta-o para o pó; procura por todos os meios obter poder sobre Deus. Mas na Escritura é sempre Deus quem busca o homem. Ele o cria à sua imagem, chama-o depois da queda, escolhe Abraão, dá a Israel a sua lei, chama e equipa os profetas, envia o seu Filho, separa os apóstolos. O etnicismo nos ensina a conhecer o homem — em sua inquietação, em sua miséria, e também em suas nobres aspirações —, e cultiva no humanismo o seu fruto mais nobre; mas a Sagrada Escritura nos ensina a conhecer a Deus em seu vir ao homem e buscá-lo, em sua compaixão e graça, em sua justiça e seu amor. Teofania, profecia e milagre são também aqui os meios pelos quais Deus se revela e se dá ao homem.

2. Teofania (angelofania, cristofania). Repetidas vezes se fala na Sagrada Escritura de uma aparição de Deus: ora sem descrição alguma, ora no sonho, ora na visão profética, e mais frequentemente ainda em nuvens de fumaça e de fogo como sinais de sua presença. Essas aparições não pressupõem corporeidade em Deus, mas são sinais sensivelmente perceptíveis pelos quais a sua presença se torna conhecível; não se deve tampouco pensar numa emanação dessa nuvem a partir do Ser divino, mas numa presença de Deus que se revela em formas criaturais. Nesses sinais torna-se manifesta a glória divina.

Mas Deus não aparece somente em sinais impessoais; também em seres pessoais visita o seu povo. Cercado e servido por muitos milhares de anjos, envia-os em forma humana a esta terra, a fim de tornar conhecidas a sua palavra e a sua vontade; são mediadores de revelação especialmente depois do exílio, e ainda mais frequentemente aparecem no Novo Testamento. Entre todos esses mensageiros de Deus, o Anjo do Senhor ocupa lugar especial. Esse Anjo do Senhor não é um símbolo dependente, nem tampouco um anjo criado, mas revelação e aparição pessoal e adequada de Deus, dele distinta e contudo com ele uma no nome, no poder, na redenção e bênção, na adoração e honra.

Depois da libertação do Egito o Anjo do Senhor se retira. Deus habita entre o seu povo no templo, e para lá se dirige a saudade da alma dos piedosos de Israel. Mas essa teofania é imperfeita. Deus não habita em casa feita por mãos; ao santo dos santos só ao sumo sacerdote era permitido entrar uma vez por ano. A teofania do Antigo Testamento ainda não alcança seu fim e seu alvo. Por isso ainda se espera outra e mais gloriosa vinda de Deus ao seu povo, tanto para livramento quanto para juízo. A teofania atinge o seu cume em Cristo, o anjo, a glória, a imagem, o Verbo, o Filho de Deus, em quem Deus foi plenamente revelado e plenamente dado. Por meio dele e do Espírito que ele envia, a habitação de Deus entre e em seu povo torna-se já agora realidade verdadeira e espiritual: a congregação é a casa de Deus, o templo do Espírito Santo. Mas também essa habitação ainda não é a última e a mais alta: alcança sua plena realização somente na nova Jerusalém, quando o tabernáculo de Deus estará com os homens, e ele habitará com eles, e eles serão o seu povo.

3. Profecia. Por profecia entendemos aqui a comunicação, por Deus, de seus pensamentos ao homem. Muitas vezes se usa para isso o nome de inspiração; mas o conceito de profecia é mais amplo que o de inspiração e inclui também a proclamação desses pensamentos a outros, e faz sobressair melhor a intenção de Deus ao comunicar os seus pensamentos, a saber, que o próprio homem seja profeta, anunciador das suas virtudes. Os pensamentos de Deus assim comunicados podem referir-se ao passado, ao presente ou ao futuro. Mas a profecia põe sempre os pensamentos de Deus contra os dos homens, a sua verdade contra a mentira deles, a sua sabedoria contra a insensatez deles.

Essa comunicação pode dar-se, segundo a Escritura, de vários modos. Às vezes o próprio Deus fala de modo audível, em voz e língua humanas; em muitos lugares Deus é representado como falando, sem descrição do modo em que esse falar se deu. O caráter mais íntimo tem esse falar de Deus com Moisés, com quem Deus falava boca a boca e convivia como um amigo com o seu amigo. Os judeus falaram mais tarde de uma bath-qol, uma voz celeste pela qual Deus se revelava; mas esta estava abaixo da profecia anterior, e viera depois que o espírito de profecia cessara.

Frequentemente, porém, Deus se prende, na comunicação de seus pensamentos, àquelas formas inferiores sob as quais também entre os pagãos se pensava que os deuses davam a conhecer a sua vontade. Há então, na forma, uma concordância quase completa. Pertencem a isso sobretudo a sorte, o Urim e o Tumim, o sonho e a visão. A sorte foi usada em muitas ocasiões, do grande dia da expiação à eleição para um ofício. O Urim e o Tumim, "luz e direito", eram objetos escondidos no peitoral do sumo sacerdote; mas como davam a conhecer a vontade de Deus e em que consistiam é inteiramente desconhecido. Pertenciam contudo certamente à mesma categoria de revelação que a sorte, e depois parecem ceder lugar à profecia propriamente dita. Os sonhos também ocorrem na Escritura como meio de revelação; ora, em todos os tempos se soube que os sonhos são muito enganosos, e também a Escritura aponta repetidas vezes para a vaidade deles e muitas vezes os atribui aos falsos profetas. Mas Deus se serve ainda assim repetidas vezes dos sonhos para dar a conhecer a sua vontade, e eles contêm ou uma palavra, uma comunicação de Deus, ou uma representação da imaginação, que então muitas vezes precisa de explicação.

Com o sonho aparenta-se a visão. Já os nomes com que o profeta é designado — o que vê, o vidente — indicam provavelmente que a visão não era meio incomum de revelação. A visão foi muitas vezes acompanhada de certo arrebatamento espiritual: quando a mão do Senhor cai sobre os profetas, ou o Espírito vem sobre eles, muitas vezes entram em estado de arrebatamento e caem por terra, e nesse estado os pensamentos de Deus lhes são dados a ver ou a ouvir em forma simbólica.

Contudo, o êxtase em que os recipientes da revelação muitas vezes se encontravam não era um estado em que a consciência estivesse total ou parcialmente suprimida. Tal era, decerto, o estado em que os adivinhos gregos davam seus oráculos, e assim entenderam o êxtase dos profetas Fílon e, em tempos mais recentes, Hengstenberg. Mas os profetas não recebem visões dormindo, e sim acordados, não só na solidão, mas também na presença de outros. Sob a visão permanecem conscientes de si, veem, ouvem, pensam, falam, perguntam e respondem, e depois se lembram de tudo e o comunicam com exatidão. Por isso a condição psíquica dos profetas sob a visão foi tida pela maioria dos teólogos por uma contemplação espiritual autoconsciente, uma alienatio mentis a sensibus corporis, e não uma alienatio a mente.

Como última forma de revelação deve ainda ser mencionada a iluminação interior. Hengstenberg julgou que o êxtase era o estado ordinário em que o profeta se encontrava ao receber revelação; mas o êxtase não é a regra, e sim a exceção. A maior parte das revelações aos profetas, também no Antigo Testamento, deu-se sem visão alguma. A revelação dá-se então interiormente pelo Espírito, como Espírito de revelação. König, é verdade, afirmou que o Espírito não é princípio de revelação, mas somente de iluminação — isto é, que Javé revela e o Espírito apenas torna subjetivamente receptivo para essa revelação —, e a isso chegou porque assim queria manter a objetividade e a exterioridade da revelação. Mas os textos ensinam claramente que os profetas falaram não só pelo Espírito, mas do Espírito, que a profecia procedeu do Espírito neles; e o espírito de mentira de 1 Reis 22 ensina claramente que o Espírito é fonte da palavra.

Há, contudo, diferença no modo em que o Espírito Santo comunica interiormente a revelação no Antigo e no Novo Testamento. Sob o Antigo, o Espírito Santo desce do alto e momentaneamente sobre alguém: vem sobre os profetas, cai sobre eles, reveste-os como uma veste. Diante dessa operação os profetas são as mais das vezes passivos: calam-se, caem por terra, ficam por algum tempo num estado anormal, extático. O Espírito de profecia ainda não é posse permanente dos profetas; há ainda separação e distância entre os dois. Toda a profecia ainda é imperfeita. Por isso ela também olha adiante e espera um profeta sobre quem repousará o Espírito do Senhor, e testemunha de uma futura habitação do Espírito de Deus em todos os filhos do Senhor.

No Novo Testamento aparece o mais alto, o único, o verdadeiro profeta. Como Logos, ele é a revelação plena e acabada de Deus. Não recebe revelação do alto ou de fora, mas é ele mesmo a fonte da profecia. O Espírito Santo não vem sobre ele e não desce sobre ele: habita nele sem medida. Desse Espírito ele é concebido; por esse Espírito fala, age, vive e morre. E esse Espírito ele concede aos seus discípulos, não só como Espírito de regeneração e santificação, mas também como Espírito de revelação e iluminação. Mas todos os crentes participam da unção do Espírito e são ensinados pelo Senhor. Todos são profetas, que proclamam as virtudes do Senhor. A profecia como dom especial será abolida.

4. Milagres. Assim como o homem, além de sua aparência e de sua palavra, se dá a conhecer também por seus atos, também Deus se revela não só por suas palavras, mas também por suas obras. Palavra e ato estão em estreita conexão. A palavra de Deus é um ato, e o seu agir é um falar. Comumente a palavra precede, como promessa ou como ameaça, mas contém o ato em si como em germe. A palavra exige o ato; o milagre acompanha a profecia; não só a consciência, também o ser precisa ser renovado. As palavras com que na Escritura se designam as obras de Deus são diversas: segundo sua aparência exterior são "maravilhas", "prodígios", algo insólito, que se distingue dos acontecimentos ordinários; são chamadas "potências", "obras", "feitos", para designar o grande poder divino que nelas se revela; especialmente são também chamadas "sinal", porque são prova e sinal da presença de Deus.

Todas as obras de Deus são milagres; também as obras da natureza são muitas vezes designadas na Escritura com esse nome. Disso não se pode, contudo, inferir com Scholten que a Sagrada Escritura não conheça distinção entre natureza e milagre. Certamente não lhe ocorre o pensamento de que um milagre estivesse em conflito com as leis da natureza e fosse por isso impossível: toda a Escritura parte antes da fé de que para Deus nada é maravilhoso demais. Mas por isso não falta a distinção entre a ordem ordinária da natureza e os atos extraordinários de poder de Deus. O Antigo Testamento conhece uma ordem fixa da natureza, ordenanças que valem para o céu e a terra e estão firmadas na determinação do Senhor; e o Novo faz distinção igualmente clara. Os milagres são uma criação, algo novo, que de outro modo nunca se vê. A Escritura reconhece ainda que também fora da revelação podem acontecer coisas insólitas — um sinal ou milagre não basta, portanto, em si mesmo para o selo de um profeta. Mas é só o Deus de Israel quem faz milagres: ora ele os realiza diretamente, ora se serve de homens ou de anjos; mas é sempre Deus quem os faz.

Os milagres têm seu início e seu fundamento na criação e na conservação de todas as coisas, que é obra e milagre contínuo de Deus. Tudo o que acontece tem seu fundamento último na vontade e no poder de Deus. Esse poder e essa liberdade de Deus são proclamados pela natureza, mas vêm à expressão especialmente na história do seu povo, e é nessa história que os milagres sobretudo ocorrem. Eles se dão com propósitos diversos: ora para castigar os ímpios, ora para salvar e livrar o povo de Deus, para trazer salvação e cura; mais de uma vez têm também a intenção direta ou indireta de confirmar a missão dos profetas, a verdade da sua palavra e assim a fé no seu testemunho. Profecia e dom de milagres andam juntos: todos os profetas e também os apóstolos têm a consciência de poder fazer milagres.

Mas todos esses milagres do Antigo Testamento não efetuaram uma elevação, uma renovação da natureza. Tiveram o seu efeito: criaram em Israel um povo distinto, livraram-no da servidão do Egito, preservaram-no de fundir-se com os gentios. Mas foram momentâneos, passaram, diminuíram em efeito e foram esquecidos. A vida seguiu o seu curso costumeiro. A natureza parecia triunfar. Então a profecia ergueu a voz e disse que Israel não podia perecer e dissolver-se na vida natural dos gentios. Deus virá de novo e em maior glória ao seu povo; ele não esquecerá a sua aliança, que é aliança eterna. Com essa vinda de Deus o tempo antigo passa ao novo: esse é o ponto de viragem na história do mundo. É o Dia do Senhor, em que ele revelará a sua glória e desdobrará o seu poder milagroso. O juízo passará sobre os ímpios, mas também purificará e libertará. Deus salvará o seu povo pelos seus milagres, fará coisa nova sobre a terra e o fará participar de uma plenitude de bens espirituais e materiais. Vem um novo céu e uma nova terra, e das coisas antigas não haverá mais memória.

Esse Dia do Senhor, esse "século vindouro" em contraste com o "século presente", começou, segundo a representação da Escritura, com o Novo Testamento. A vinda de Cristo é o ponto de viragem dos tempos. Um novo ciclo de milagres se agrupa em torno de sua pessoa. Ele mesmo é o milagre absoluto, descido do alto e contudo homem verdadeiro e perfeito. Nele, em princípio, a criação foi restaurada, reerguida de sua queda à sua glória anterior. Em Cristo aparece um poder divino mais forte que toda potência corruptora e devastadora do pecado; esse poder ele ataca não só na periferia, curando doenças e enfermidades, mas penetra até o seu centro, quebra-o e o vence. Sua encarnação e satisfação, sua ressurreição e ascensão são os grandes atos de livramento de Deus, a restauração de princípio do reino da glória. Esses fatos da salvação não são apenas meios para revelar alguma coisa: são eles mesmos a revelação de Deus. O milagre torna-se aqui história, e a história é ela mesma um milagre. A pessoa e a obra de Cristo são a revelação central de Deus; toda outra revelação se agrupa em torno dela.

Também depois da partida de Jesus o seu poder milagroso continua nos discípulos, e por algum tempo ainda continua na congregação. Mas cessou quando o cristianismo se estabeleceu, e a igreja é agora o objeto em que Deus glorifica os milagres da sua graça: os milagres espirituais são aqueles em que Deus revela agora o seu poder e a sua glória. Contudo a Escritura aponta para um futuro em que o milagre de novo fará a sua obra. O século vindouro só se completa no novo céu e na nova terra, em que habita a justiça. Então o milagre se tornou natureza. Ethos e physis estão reconciliados. O reino de Deus e o reino do mundo são um só.

B. Conceito de revelação especial.

5. O sistema de revelação que a Escritura nos dá a conhecer foi por demais desconhecido e negligenciado na teologia cristã; só em tempos mais recentes o conceito e a essência da revelação se tornaram objeto de investigação mais profunda. Antes não se sentia necessidade disso: entre cristãos e pagãos a possibilidade da revelação não estava em disputa, e a luta era apenas sobre a verdade daquela revelação que se ensina no Antigo e no Novo Testamento. De resto, os pensamentos sobre a revelação reduziam-se a este esquema: Deus só pode ser conhecido por Deus; todo conhecimento e serviço de Deus repousa, portanto, em revelação da parte dele; mas a revelação de Deus na natureza e na história é insuficiente; é necessária, por isso, uma revelação especial, que atinge seu ápice em Cristo. Os escolásticos empregaram todo cuidado em determinar a relação entre natureza e revelação, saber e crer, filosofia e teologia, mas não pensaram a fundo o conceito de revelação. Também os teólogos protestantes dedicaram-lhe atenção pequena demais: identificaram imediatamente revelação com Sagrada Escritura e não escaparam de todo à concepção abstrato-supranaturalista e unilateralmente intelectualista. Entre racionalismo e supranaturalismo não havia diferença quanto ao conceito de revelação: para ambos ela consistia numa comunicação externa de doutrina. Não era de admirar, e era também plenamente merecido, que tal conceito não pudesse resistir à crítica do deísmo e do racionalismo. Que valor religioso tinha uma revelação que nada dava senão algumas verdades intelectuais, que talvez mais tarde ainda fossem encontradas pela própria razão? Verificou-se, contudo, que se acertara contas depressa demais com o conceito de revelação: religião e revelação mostraram, sob investigação mais profunda, afinidade muito mais estreita do que antes se supunha, e várias tentativas de reconstrução foram feitas.

Uma delas apontou para a afinidade entre religião e arte e pôs a revelação em conexão com a inspiração genial. O conceito de revelação foi assim alargado, de modo que tudo se tornou revelação: religião, poesia, filosofia, história, língua são expressões diferentes de uma só e mesma vida original. Também Schleiermacher rejeitou decididamente a doutrina racionalista da revelação. Não buscou a peculiaridade dela no caráter mais ou menos sobrenatural que porta, mas no que há de novo e original com que uma pessoa ou um acontecimento aparece na história; a revelação é, portanto, aparentada à inspiração poética e heroica, e consiste de fato em despertar afecções novas e originais do sentimento religioso. Por Schleiermacher foi preparada aquela concepção que põe a existência da revelação não na comunicação de doutrina, mas de vida. As peculiaridades do conceito de revelação entre os teólogos que a ele se ligam consistem então especialmente nisto: a revelação deve ser distinguida da teopneustia, da Sagrada Escritura; a Escritura não é a revelação, mas o seu documento; a revelação é um conceito religioso, mais precisamente soteriológico, aparentado à inspiração genial mas não idêntico a ela; é o correlato somente da religião; procedendo de Deus como Redentor, não tem por conteúdo doutrina alguma sobre coisas físicas, históricas e metafísicas, mas somente verdade religioso-ética; é comunicação de vida, autocomunicação de Deus; não é sobrenatural em sentido estrito, mas genuinamente natural e humana; e finalmente não é só externa (manifestação), mas também interna e espiritual (inspiração).

Mas não só Schleiermacher e a sua escola trouxeram o conceito de revelação a nova vida; também Schelling e Hegel tentaram o mesmo, ao seu modo, e por eles o racionalismo adquiriu caráter especulativo. Não procuraram destruir a revelação cristã por uma crítica do entendimento, mas buscaram especulativamente rastrear a ideia profunda que jazia no fundamento dela e de todos os dogmas cristãos. Segundo Schelling, o mundo inteiro era a autorrevelação de Deus: a natureza é o espírito visível, o espírito, a natureza invisível. E assim ensinou também Hegel que Deus não se revela ao homem por um acontecimento transitório no tempo, mas se revela no próprio homem e nele se torna consciente de si; e esse tornar-se consciente de si de Deus no homem é o conhecimento que o homem tem de Deus, é a religião. A história das religiões é a história do vir-a-si do Absoluto na consciência humana e atinge o seu ápice no cristianismo, que exprime a unidade de Deus e do homem. Comum a essa linha é a negação do caráter sobrenatural da revelação. De ambos os grupos distingue-se ainda o conceito de revelação na escola de Ritschl, cuja peculiaridade está em que se atribui muito pouco valor à distinção entre revelação natural e sobrenatural, em que se põe o acento no que há de histórico e externo na revelação, e em que, para o cristianismo, essa revelação histórica é encontrada especialmente, ou mesmo exclusivamente, na pessoa de Cristo.

Uma compreensão clara e lúcida da revelação ainda falta na dogmática, e entre os teólogos há desacordo sobre tudo o que entra em consideração nesse conceito: se o caráter sobrenatural da revelação está no modo pelo qual ela chegou até nós ou no caráter novo e original do conteúdo, como quer Schleiermacher; em que ela se distingue daquela inspiração religiosa, poética e heroica que também se encontra fora do cristianismo; onde se há de encontrá-la e até onde ela se estende depois de Cristo; se o seu conteúdo é em primeiro lugar conhecimento ou antes operação sobre a disposição; e se o principal está no externo e histórico ou no sujeito, na autorrevelação do Espírito absoluto ao homem.

6. A revelação que a Escritura nos dá a conhecer não consiste em algumas palavras e fatos desconexos, mas é um todo histórico e orgânico, um poderoso sistema de atos de Deus que governa e renova o mundo. Ela aparece em três formas: teofania, profecia e milagre. Mas essas três não estão isoladas lado a lado; formam um todo e visam juntas a um só alvo. Já pela revelatio generalis Deus não se deixa sem testemunho diante do homem, pois, em sentido amplo, revelação é toda ação que procede de Deus a fim de pôr o homem em relação religiosa com ele. Mas pelo pecado torna-se necessária outra revelação, que decerto está em múltipla conexão com a revelatio generalis, mas que dela é essencialmente distinta em forma e conteúdo. Ela se dirige, afinal, ao homem caído, e deve por isso ser revelação de graça.

A revelatio specialis é o buscar de Deus e o vir de Deus ao homem. Ele deve agora revelar-se e falar e operar de tal modo que o homem seja de novo renovado segundo a sua imagem. Por isso Deus vem ao homem de modo humano. A encarnação é o fato central na revelatio specialis, e espalha luz sobre todo o seu domínio. Já na criação Deus se faz semelhante aos homens; mas na recriação ele se faz homem e entra na nossa condição. E essa encarnação, que é o conteúdo próprio da revelatio specialis, já em certo sentido começa imediatamente depois da queda. A revelação especial entra na história e forma uma história, que atravessa os séculos; assume esse caráter histórico porque a própria humanidade, a quem se dirige, só existe em forma histórica. Serve-se de todo caráter e individualidade, de toda disposição e dom dados na criação, e envolve-se nas formas do tipo e da sombra, da imagem e do símbolo. Na religião toma para si os usos que se encontram em outras religiões, como a circuncisão e o sacrifício, o templo e o sacerdócio. Nem sequer considera insignificantes demais a sorte, o sonho e a visão para deles se servir como instrumento. Tão fundo desce o divino no humano, que as fronteiras entre revelação e pseudorreligião parecem apagar-se: fala divina e oráculo, profecia e mântica, milagre e magia parecem aproximar-se.

E contudo é outro o coração que bate na religião de Israel. A visão periférica e atomística apela para tais fatos de concordância entre a religião da Escritura e as religiões dos povos, mas não explica a revelação em seu caráter e em sua significação, e ao fim não sabe o que fazer com a Escritura. Por isso essa visão deve ceder à central e orgânica, que a partir do centro faz a luz irradiar até a periferia mais extrema. E esse centro é a encarnação de Deus. O sujeito da revelação especial é, em sentido próprio, o Logos, o Anjo do Senhor, o Cristo. Ele é o mediador da criação, mas também da recriação; é o sujeito da revelação já no Antigo Testamento, o anjo da aliança que conduziu Israel, o conteúdo da profecia. Por teofania, profecia e milagre ele prepara a sua vinda em carne. A revelação do Antigo Testamento é a história do Cristo que vem. Teofania, profecia e milagre desembocam nele; em Cristo eles coincidem. Ele é a revelação, a palavra, o poder de Deus. A encarnação é a conclusão, o alvo e o fim da história de Israel e ao mesmo tempo o centro de toda a história: até aqui e a partir daqui corre a história.

Quando a revelação de Deus em Cristo apareceu e foi descrita na Escritura, entra outra dispensação. O Espírito Santo veio habitar na igreja, e com isso mudou o caráter dos tempos: o século presente passou ao século vindouro. Assim como no primeiro período tudo era preparado para Cristo, agora tudo dele é derivado. Então Cristo era formado em cabeça da igreja; agora a igreja é formada em corpo de Cristo. Então a Palavra era completada; agora ela é desdobrada. A revelação, enquanto visava e produzia o Cristo, chegou ao seu fim: Cristo está aí, a sua obra está cumprida, a sua palavra está completa. Novos elementos constitutivos da revelatio specialis já não podem ser acrescentados. É, portanto, de importância subordinada a questão de saber se na igreja cristã ainda continuam o dom de profecia e o de milagres: ainda que aqueles dons tenham permanecido, o conteúdo daquela revelação que se concentra em Cristo e foi depositada na Escritura não se torna com isso mais rico; e, se eles cessaram, como pensou Agostinho, aquela revelação não se torna com isso mais pobre. Seja como for, a revelatio specialis em Cristo continua em certo sentido nesta dispensação, pois a própria igreja é, de momento a momento, produto da revelação. Os milagres espirituais continuam: a graça de Deus em Cristo glorifica-se na iluminação e na regeneração, na fé e na conversão, na santificação e na preservação. A revelatio specialis encontra o seu alvo em produzir uma nova ordem de coisas, e por isso continua, em forma modificada, isto é, em sentido espiritual, ainda agora. Seu ponto de repouso só o encontra na epifania de Cristo, no novo céu e na nova terra, em que habita a justiça.

A revelação, segundo a Escritura, é portanto um processo histórico, um sistema orgânico, uma ação divina contínua para quebrar o poder do pecado, para estabelecer o seu reino, para restaurar o cosmos, para a recapitulação de todas as coisas em Cristo. Na teofania Deus põe-se de novo como o único e verdadeiro Deus contra os ídolos do enfeite próprio do homem; na profecia põe o seu pensamento como a verdade contra a mentira de Satanás; e no milagre desdobra o seu poder divino contra todas as obras da injustiça. Na revelação Deus põe e mantém o seu Eu contra todo não-Eu, e o leva, apesar de toda oposição, ao reconhecimento geral e ao triunfo completo. Soteriológica, portanto, é toda a revelação. Mas soteriológica entendida no sentido da Escritura, não em sentido religioso-ético, como se a revelação contivesse apenas verdade religiosa e ética; e ainda muito menos em sentido intelectual, como se consistisse apenas em doutrina. Soteriológica em sentido escriturístico, a saber, de tal modo que o conteúdo da revelação não é doutrina, nem vida, nem emoção do ânimo, mas tudo isso junto: uma obra divina, um mundo de pensamentos e de atos, uma ordo gratiae que combate e vence a ordo peccati em todo terreno. O alvo da revelação não é somente ensinar o homem e iluminar-lhe o entendimento (racionalismo), levá-lo a praticar a virtude (moralismo), cultivar nele emoções religiosas (misticismo). O propósito de Deus vai muito mais longe e mais largo: não é outro senão arrancar o homem, a humanidade, o mundo ao poder do pecado, e fazer o Nome de Deus resplandecer de novo em toda criatura. O pecado corrompeu e destruiu tudo, entendimento e vontade, mundo ético e físico; e por isso é também o homem inteiro e o cosmos inteiro que a Deus importam, com a sua revelação, para a salvação e a restauração. O objeto dessa salvação é o cosmos, e não só o ético ou a vontade com exclusão do entendimento, nem só o psíquico com exclusão do físico, mas tudo junto. Pois Deus encerrou a todos sob o pecado, para de todos ter misericórdia.

C. Revelação especial e supranaturalismo.

7. Essa concepção orgânica da revelação foi desconhecida na igreja cristã de duas maneiras: pelo supranaturalismo e pelo naturalismo (racionalismo). Contra ambos, portanto, precisa ser posta em luz mais clara e mantida. Primeiro contra o supranaturalismo, que surgiu especialmente em Roma e depois continua a produzir efeitos em várias direções dentro do protestantismo. A Escritura conhece, de fato, uma distinção entre o curso ordinário das coisas e as obras extraordinárias de Deus, mas não faz ainda a antítese entre natural e sobrenatural. Esta ocorre primeiro nos pais da igreja, com os quais a revelação especial é identificada com o sobrenatural e posta contra o natural: Clemente de Alexandria já fala de uma contemplação "acima da natureza", que se obtém pela fé.

Sem dúvida essa distinção tem também direito de existir. A revelação na Sagrada Escritura pressupõe que há ainda outro mundo, mais alto e melhor que esta natureza, e que há portanto uma ordo rerum supra hanc naturam. Os conceitos precisam, por isso, ser claramente definidos. Natureza, de nasci, nascer, designa em geral aquilo que, sem poder ou influência estranha vinda de fora, se desenvolve somente segundo suas forças e leis internas; nesse sentido a natureza opõe-se até à arte, à educação, à cultura, à história, que não surgem de si mesmas, mas vêm a ser pela ação humana. Mas o conceito estende-se ainda a todo o cosmos, na medida em que este se move e se desenvolve não de fora, mas de dentro, por forças imanentes e segundo as leis nele implantadas. Sobrenatural é então tudo o que ultrapassa as forças da natura creata e não tem sua causa nas criaturas, mas na onipotência de Deus. Nesse sentido a revelação especial foi concebida na teologia cristã: tomada como um todo, teve a sua origem num ato especial de Deus, que se revelara não no curso ordinário da natureza, mas numa ordem de coisas própria. Distinguiu-se ainda entre o sobrenatural em sentido absoluto, como aquilo que ultrapassa o poder de todas as criaturas, e o sobrenatural em sentido relativo, como aquilo que ultrapassa o poder de uma causa determinada nas circunstâncias dadas; e ainda entre o supernaturale quoad substantiam, quando o próprio fato é sobrenatural, como a ressurreição de um morto, e o supernaturale quoad modum, quando só o modo de agir é sobrenatural, como a cura de um doente sem meios.

Nessas distinções ainda não havia em si perigo algum; antes, elas devem ser defendidas contra uma filosofia que nega ou enfraquece o sobrenatural. Com efeito, a expressão "sobrenatural" foi na teologia e na filosofia posteriores muitas vezes entendida em sentido bastante alterado, e alternadamente identificada com o suprassensível (Kant), o livre (Fichte), o desconhecido (Espinosa), o novo e original (Schleiermacher), o religioso-ético, o espiritual. Mas tal alteração do sentido fixo e claro de uma palavra conduz a mal-entendidos. O conceito de natureza abarca tudo o que é criado: não só a matéria, mas também a alma e o espírito; não só o físico, mas também o psíquico, a vida religiosa e ética na medida em que ela nasce por si da disposição humana; não só as coisas visíveis, mas também as invisíveis e suprassensíveis. O sobrenatural não é idêntico ao original, ao genial, ao livre, ao religioso, ao ético, mas é o nome claro e fixo somente daquilo que não se pode explicar pelas forças e segundo as leis das coisas criadas. Até aqui a distinção entre natural e sobrenatural é inteiramente correta, precisa, clara e corta toda confusão. A revelação especial, em suas três formas de teofania, profecia e milagre, é sobrenatural em sentido estrito.

Mas na teologia cristã o conceito do sobrenatural foi aos poucos delimitado ainda mais estreitamente. De um lado foi distinguido da criação, porque o sobrenatural não existe para Deus, mas somente para nós, e pressupõe a ordem ordinária chamada à existência pela criação: do sobrenatural só se pode falar quando a natureza já existe de antemão. De outro lado, a regeneração, o perdão, a santificação, a unio mystica foram sim tidos por atos diretos de Deus, mas não foram contados à revelação sobrenatural, porque não são insólitos e raros, mas pertencem na igreja à ordo rerum ordinária. A própria igreja é sobrenatural, mas não é um milagre. O sobrenatural e o milagre distinguem-se de novo: nem tudo o que é sobrenatural é milagre, mas o inverso vale. Os milagres não são somente sobrenaturais, mas além disso acontecimentos insólitos e raros, e ocorrem não só praeter ordinem naturae alicujus particularis, mas praeter ordinem totius naturae creatae. E assim os milagres tinham as seguintes notas: obra imediata de Deus, acima de toda natureza, caindo sob os sentidos, rara, para confirmação da verdade.

Por muito de bom que haja nessas determinações e distinções da escolástica, elas trouxeram consigo não pequeno perigo. A revelação especial foi de um lado desprendida da criação e da natureza; ainda que se reconhecesse que a revelação sobrenatural tivera lugar já antes da queda, e que em si mesma não podia portanto estar em conflito com a natureza, isso não foi pensado a fundo. De outro lado foi posta contra os milagres espirituais, as obras da graça que continuamente se dão na igreja de Cristo, e assim foi isolada da recriação e da graça. A revelação especial passou assim a estar inteiramente por si, sem conexão com a natureza e a história. Seu caráter histórico e orgânico foi desconhecido. Ela não entrava no mundo e na humanidade, mas ficava a flutuar fora e acima deles. Foi finalmente concebida como uma doutrina, como proclamação de mistérios incompreendidos e incompreensíveis, cuja verdade era confirmada pelos milagres. Foi e permaneceu, numa palavra, um donum superadditum do cosmos.

8. Em Roma esse sistema supranaturalista e dualista foi consequentemente elaborado. Em Deus há duas concepções do homem, de sua natureza e de seu destino. O homem in puris naturalibus, sem a imagem de Deus, tal como de fato ainda é depois da queda, pode ter um conhecimento puro de Deus a partir de suas obras, pode servi-lo e temê-lo e estar com ele numa relação normal e em si boa de servo, pode praticar todas as virtudes naturais, e pode assim chegar a certo estado de felicidade nesta vida e na futura. Se não chega tão longe, a culpa é sua. Mas Deus quer dar ainda ao homem um destino mais alto, sobrenatural, celeste. Para isso ele deve conceder-lhe dona superaddita, tanto antes quanto agora depois da queda: uma graça sobrenatural, pela qual possa conhecer e amar a Deus de outro modo, melhor e mais alto, possa praticar virtudes melhores e mais altas e alcançar um destino mais alto. Esse conhecimento mais alto consiste na fides; esse amor mais alto, na caritas; essas virtudes mais altas são as teologais, essencialmente distintas das virtutes cardinales; e esse destino mais alto consiste na filiação divina, na unio mystica, na deificatio, na visio Dei. Essa doutrina foi primeiro desenvolvida pela escolástica e pelo Vaticano expressamente pronunciada: a revelação deve ser dita absolutamente necessária, porque Deus, por sua infinita bondade, ordenou o homem a um fim sobrenatural, a saber, à participação de bens divinos que ultrapassam a inteligência da mente humana.

Ora, deve-se reconhecer que a distinção entre a condição antes e depois da queda não está na revelação em si mesma. Houve revelação sobrenatural também no paraíso; ela não se tornou, portanto, necessária primeiro pelo pecado. Aliás, mesmo no status integritatis houve também uma revelação de graça, pois já então a relação de amor em que Deus se pôs para com o homem era manifestação de bondade imerecida. O que se tornou necessário pelo pecado não é, pois, a revelação em si, mas o conteúdo determinado da revelação, isto é, a gratia specialis, a revelação de Deus em Cristo, a encarnação de Deus. Roma não pode realmente negá-lo, a não ser que aceitasse a doutrina de que, suposto que Deus quisesse dar ao homem um finis supernaturalis, toda a ordem sobrenatural que agora existe — a encarnação, a igreja, os sacramentos — teria sido necessária também sem o pecado e à parte dele. Com isso, porém, o caráter soteriológico da revelação se perderia inteiramente, a queda perderia a sua significação, e o pecado não teria produzido mudança alguma. A doutrina do finis supernaturalis sempre encontrou, por isso, muita oposição dentro da própria igreja romana, com Baio e Jansênio; mas ela está estreitamente ligada a todo o sistema romano, que se edifica não sobre a antítese religiosa de pecado e graça, mas sobre a distinção de grau no bem, sobre a hierarquia das criaturas e das virtudes, em sentido físico e ético.

A Reforma, porém, tinha uma só ideia, uma só concepção do homem, a saber, a de portador da imagem de Deus, e isso valia para todos os homens. Se essa imagem, em sentido estrito, se perde, então com isso toda a natureza humana fica danificada, e o homem já não pode ter religião nem ética alguma que correspondam à exigência de Deus e à sua própria ideia. Então a sua religião e a sua virtude, por belas que pareçam, estão corrompidas na raiz. Não há religio naturalis; todas as religiões tornaram-se superstições. Mas por isso a religio christiana é também essencialmente uma com a religio vera do status integritatis. O pensamento verdadeiro nisso era que a vontade de Deus não é arbítrio, que alternadamente forma para si ora esta, ora aquela ideia do homem; que a concepção do homem, a natureza da imagem de Deus e portanto também a religio devem ser uma só. E daí se seguiu finalmente que a revelação era necessária não absoluta, mas relativamente, não quoad substantiam, mas quoad modum. A religio é uma antes e depois da queda; que ela, porém, seja christiana, isso se tornou necessário pelo pecado. A religio christiana é um meio, não um fim; Cristo é mediador, mas o fim é Deus tudo em todos.

Com isso está dado ainda que a revelação não pode estar absolutamente contra a natureza. Em Roma há uma antítese quantitativa: a religio naturalis é essencialmente diferente da religio supernaturalis; ambas estão lado a lado, são dois sistemas e ordens totalmente separados, e a ordo gratiae eleva-se muito acima da ordo naturae. Mas a Reforma converteu essa antítese quantitativa numa qualitativa. A revelação não está contra a natureza, mas contra o pecado. Esse é o poder que a revelação busca quebrar; a natureza ela restaura e completa. A própria criação já é revelação. Houve revelação antes da queda. Há revelação também agora em todas as obras das mãos de Deus na natureza e na história. Analogias da profecia e do milagre existem também fora da revelatio specialis: a inspiração de heróis e artistas, as forças maravilhosas que às vezes vêm à luz, podem servir para esclarecimento e confirmação dos fatos de revelação mencionados na Escritura; até a mântica e a magia nas religiões pagãs são fenômenos que, como caricatura, ainda mostram semelhança com a imagem original na revelação. Sim, a própria revelação por assim dizer se estende para trás, para dentro da natureza, prende-se a ela e nela se prepara. A gratia communis aponta para a gratia specialis, e esta toma aquela a seu serviço. Natura commendat gratiam, gratia emendat naturam. Até a própria criação está edificada segundo as linhas da redenção.

D. Revelação especial e naturalismo.

9. O combate de princípio à revelação só começou na filosofia moderna. Espinosa ainda retém a palavra revelação e até a julga necessária, mas por ela não entende senão que os simples não podem encontrar a verdadeira religião pela luz da razão, mas devem aceitá-la por autoridade; de resto não reconhece revelação alguma em sentido próprio, pois todos os decretos de Deus são verdades eternas e idênticas às leis da natureza, e a profecia e o milagre foram por ele submetidos a uma crítica cortante e explicados de modo natural. Essa crítica foi continuada pelo deísmo e pelo racionalismo. Mas o racionalismo pode ocorrer em formas diversas. Em primeiro lugar, chama-se racionalismo aquela direção que aceita, sim, uma revelação sobrenatural, mas confia à razão a decisão sobre a autenticidade e o sentido dessa revelação; a ela pertenceram muitos teólogos cartesianos, e também Leibniz e Wolff. Em seguida, racionalismo é o nome daquela opinião que ainda julga possível uma revelação sobrenatural, mas somente de verdades tais que a razão mais cedo ou mais tarde também teria podido encontrar: a revelação é então necessária apenas temporária e acidentalmente, serve só de preparação e educação para o domínio geral da religião da razão — tal é o conceito de revelação em Lessing, Fichte e Kant. Em terceiro lugar, chama-se racionalismo aquela teologia que nega toda revelação sobrenatural, mas admite que Deus, por disposições especiais de sua providência, equipou pessoas e abriu caminhos que podem levar a humanidade a um conhecimento melhor e mais puro da verdade religiosa; deles Wegscheider é o principal representante. E, finalmente, dá-se também o nome de racionalismo àquela direção que desde meados do século XVII se chamou naturalismo e, na Inglaterra, deísmo, e que, negando toda revelação, tinha a religio naturalis por perfeitamente suficiente; a ela pertencem Espinosa, Voltaire, Rousseau, Reimarus.

Os argumentos apresentados por esse racionalismo contra a revelação reduzem-se a isto. A revelação é, em primeiro lugar, impossível da parte de Deus, pois implicaria que Deus fosse mutável, que a sua criação fosse imperfeita e por isso precisasse de melhoria, e que ele mesmo, de resto um Deus otiosus, só então operasse quando opera de modo extraordinário. Além disso, a revelação é também impossível da parte do mundo, já que a ciência veio cada vez mais à descoberta de que este é sempre e em toda parte governado por um sistema inquebrantável de leis, que não deixa espaço para uma intervenção sobrenatural de Deus; o supranaturalismo torna a ciência impossível e põe o arbítrio no lugar da regra. Em seguida, a revelação, mesmo que tivesse ocorrido, é para o próprio recipiente, e ainda mais para os que vivem depois dele, irreconhecível e improvável: como se há de alguma vez decidir que uma profecia ou um milagre vem de Deus e não, por exemplo, do diabo? Os que aceitam uma revelação creem, portanto, apenas por autoridade humana, e nas coisas mais altas e mais graves dependem de homens: quantos homens entre Deus e mim! E, finalmente, a revelação está em conflito com a razão humana; pois toda revelação que é supra rationem é com isso também contra rationem, suprime a razão e conduz ao fanatismo; e, além disso, se a revelação comunica algo que é supra rationem, então ela nunca pode ser assimilada e permanece sempre como mistério incompreendido fora de nossa consciência; e, se comunica algo que a própria razão poderia ter encontrado, então é desnecessária e priva a razão, sem necessidade, de seu poder e de sua energia.

10. A revelação depositada na Sagrada Escritura é um fato incômodo para todo aquele que a nega. Pois mesmo quem combate a sua possibilidade e a sua realidade deve ainda assim empenhar-se por uma explicação de sua origem histórica. Ela não nasceu de fraude, tanto quanto não nasceu a religião. A fé na revelação não é algo arbitrário ou acidental, mas é essencialmente própria de toda religião. A questão da revelação não é tão simples como o racionalismo às vezes imaginou, e isso já se vê no fato de que todas as tentativas empregadas do lado naturalista para explicar de modo natural as narrativas bíblicas de milagres naufragaram até agora.

Se a revelação, em todas as suas formas de teofania, profecia e milagre, não é realmente sobrenatural, mas procede de Deus apenas naquele sentido em que toda atividade do homem tem nele a sua causa última, então se é obrigado a recorrer ou à interpretação material ou à formal das narrativas de milagres. Isto é: de um lado pode-se deixar os fatos até certo ponto intocados e aceitá-los como verdade, e então explicá-los pela ignorância do povo quanto às causas naturais e pela necessidade religiosa de atribuir tudo diretamente a Deus; ou explicá-los fisicamente por forças naturais desconhecidas; ou psicologicamente por certa virtuosidade em pressentir o futuro e em curar os doentes sem meios; ou teleologicamente por tal disposição e ordenação das forças físicas e psíquicas presentes na natureza que produzam um resultado insólito e incitem ao reconhecimento da providência de Deus e à fé no pregador. Ou, de outro lado, pode-se buscar a solução na explicação formal ou genética, isto é, numa concepção particular dos relatos sobre a revelação: chama-se então em auxílio a representação e o revestimento orientais, e a acomodação de Jesus e dos apóstolos às concepções populares; ou busca-se conselho na explicação alegórica, ou na natural, ou na mítica, ou na simbólica.

Mas todas essas explicações tiveram pouco êxito. A Escritura simplesmente não pode ser interpretada de modo naturalista ou racionalista. Os próprios fatos de revelação que a Escritura nos comunica opõem-se a todas essas tentativas. Pois, embora seja verdade que a revelação na Escritura, na forma, tem múltipla concordância com aquilo a que outras religiões apelam, em princípio ela se lhes opõe: faz entre elas e si mesma uma distinção nítida, e atribui consciente e com plena segurança a sua origem unicamente a uma operação extraordinária de Deus. A profecia não foi outrora produzida por vontade de homem algum, mas o Espírito Santo impeliu os profetas. A clara consciência de si que encontramos por toda parte entre os profetas, e o testemunho próprio inteiramente claro que acompanha em toda a Escritura a revelação, oferecem um obstáculo insuperável à explicação naturalista. Pode-se reconhecer com gratidão que a concepção moderna da revelação não pensa mais um instante em ter profetas e apóstolos por enganadores intencionais. Mas ela ainda assim não pode escapar à conclusão de que todos esses homens eram pobres iludidos e, de boa fé, errantes, por apelarem a uma pretensa revelação e se apresentarem com uma autoridade divina imaginada.

Pois não se trata como se a revelação contivesse apenas certos fatos, cuja interpretação deixasse ao nosso discernimento. Ela mesma lança sobre esses fatos uma luz peculiar; tem, por assim dizer, sobre eles a sua própria visão e a sua própria teoria. Na revelação da Escritura, palavra e fato, profecia e milagre andam sempre de mãos dadas. Ambos são necessários para que tanto a consciência quanto o ser sejam recriados e todo o cosmos seja redimido do pecado. A luz precisa da realidade e a realidade precisa da luz. Para aplicar a fraseologia kantiana a um objeto mais alto: sem os atos de Deus as palavras seriam vazias; sem as suas palavras os atos seriam cegos. Ambos, palavra e fato, estão na revelação tão intimamente entretecidos que um não pode ser aceito nem rejeitado sem o outro. Toda tentativa de explicar naturalisticamente os fatos de revelação terminou por isso, até hoje, sempre com o reconhecimento de que entre a visão de mundo supranatural da Escritura e a dos naturalistas se abre um abismo profundo e a reconciliação é impossível. Toda direção negativa acaba reconhecendo que a revelação da Escritura ainda é concebida e representada do modo mais puro na ortodoxia. O radicalismo deixa a Escritura como está e acabou com a revelação.

Com isso a questão é reduzida ao seu princípio mais profundo. O reconhecimento ou não reconhecimento da revelação é decidido por toda a nossa visão da vida e do mundo. Não a crítica histórica, mas a autocrítica; não a ciência, mas a fé; não a cabeça, mas o coração dá aqui o fator decisivo. Do coração procede também a falta de entendimento. Nosso pensar tem raízes no nosso ser. Operari sequitur esse. A filosofia que se escolhe depende do tipo de homem que se é. Que o reconhecimento ou não reconhecimento da revelação seja em última instância uma questão de fé, prova-o suficientemente o fato de que nenhuma das duas concepções consegue remover todas as dificuldades nem resolver todas as objeções. A visão naturalista parece forte quando toma algumas narrativas de milagres por si e as isola do todo; mas esse todo mesmo, o sistema da revelação e dentro dele de novo a pessoa de Cristo, permanece para ela enigma insolúvel e pedra de tropeço. Inversamente, a visão supranatural ainda não conseguiu inserir todos os fatos e palavras particulares da revelação na ordem do todo; mas aqui há, ainda assim, a concordância com a revelação em seu conjunto, o discernimento de seu sistema, a compreensão de sua poderosa harmonia. Ora, se o reconhecimento da revelação fosse uma proposição filosófica, teria relativamente pouco peso. Mas há nele um profundo interesse religioso. A própria religião está ligada à revelação. Quem abre mão desta perde também a religião, que sobre ela se edifica. A revelação da Escritura e a religião da Escritura mantêm-se ou caem juntas.

11. A visão de mundo que se opõe à da Escritura e que por princípio deve combater toda revelação designa-se melhor pelo nome de monismo. O monismo, tanto em sua forma panteísta quanto na materialista, esforça-se por reduzir todas as forças, substâncias e leis que se podem observar na natureza a uma única força, substância e lei. O materialismo admite apenas átomos qualitativamente idênticos, que em toda parte e sempre operam segundo as mesmas leis mecânicas e, por combinação e separação, fazem todas as coisas e fenômenos vir a ser e passar. O panteísmo igualmente não reconhece senão uma única substância, que é a mesma em todas as criaturas e em toda parte se modifica e se transforma segundo as mesmas leis lógicas. Ambos são animados pelo mesmo anseio de unidade próprio do espírito humano; mas, enquanto o materialismo tenta fazer de todas as ciências ciência natural, o panteísmo tenta explicar todos os fenômenos, também os físicos, a partir do espírito, e converter todas as ciências em ciência do espírito. Ambos são naturalismo, na medida em que talvez ainda deem lugar ao suprassensível, mas em todo caso não ao sobrenatural, e se contentam com este cosmos, com o aquém.

A visão de mundo da Escritura e de toda a teologia cristã é inteiramente outra: não monismo, mas teísmo; não naturalista, mas supranatural. Segundo essa visão teísta há uma multiplicidade de substâncias, de forças e de leis. Ela não se esforça por apagar as distinções de Deus e mundo, espírito e matéria, fenômenos psíquicos e físicos, éticos e religiosos, mas por descobrir a harmonia que sustenta e liga todas as coisas, e que é um efluxo do pensamento criador de Deus. Não a mesmidade ou a uniformidade, mas a unidade na diversidade é o alvo de seu esforço. Apesar de todas as pretensões do monismo, essa visão teísta tem direito e razão de existir. Pois o monismo não conseguiu reduzir todas as forças, substâncias e leis a uma só: o materialismo esbarra nos fenômenos psíquicos, e o panteísmo não encontra a passagem do pensar ao ser e não sabe o que fazer com a multiplicidade.

O ser mesmo é um mistério, uma maravilha. Que algo seja, e de onde seja, força o espírito pensante à admiração, e por isso esta é com razão chamada o começo da filosofia. E quanto mais se pensa a fundo esse ser, tanto mais cresce a admiração; pois dentro do círculo do ser vemos aparecer forças diferentes — no mundo mecânico, vegetativo, animal, psíquico, e ainda nos fenômenos religiosos e éticos, estéticos e lógicos. A criação nos mostra uma ordem ascendente. As leis da conservação da força, da causalidade e da continuidade (natura non facit saltus) são decerto interpretadas e usadas indevidamente a serviço do monismo. Mas ainda assim aparecem repetidas vezes na natureza forças que não se podem explicar a partir das inferiores: já na natureza mecânica a causalidade só vale em sentido hipotético, pois causas iguais têm efeitos iguais somente sob circunstâncias iguais; e no orgânico aparece uma força que não se origina do inorgânico. No entendimento, na vontade, na religião, na moral, na arte, na ciência, no direito, na história há forças em ação que diferem essencialmente das mecânicas, e a tentativa de explicar mecanicamente todos esses fenômenos mostrou-se até agora vã. As ciências do espírito conservaram até hoje o seu lugar independente — coisa que mesmo um adversário como o professor Land, ainda que a contragosto, precisa reconhecer, admitindo que a ciência por ora é obrigada a permanecer dualista e até pluralista.

Cada uma dessas forças opera segundo a sua própria natureza, segundo a sua própria lei e ao seu próprio modo. As forças diferem, e portanto também as suas operações e o modo em que operam. A ideia de uma lei da natureza só surgiu aos poucos: antes entendia-se por lex naturae uma regra ética conhecida por natureza, e mais tarde esse termo foi transferido, em sentido bastante impróprio, para a natureza, pois ninguém prescreveu essas leis à natureza e ninguém está em condições de obedecer-lhes ou transgredi-las. Mas isto é certo: as chamadas leis da natureza não são elas mesmas força alguma que exerça domínio sobre os fenômenos, mas nada mais que uma descrição, muitas vezes bem defeituosa e sempre falível, do modo em que operam as forças que estão na natureza. Uma lei da natureza diz apenas que certas forças, sob circunstâncias iguais, operam do mesmo modo. A regularidade dos fenômenos repousa, portanto, em última instância na imutabilidade das diferentes forças que operam na natureza e dos últimos elementos ou substâncias de que ela se compõe. As leis diferem conforme esses elementos e forças são distintos: as leis mecânicas são diferentes das físicas, as lógicas de novo diferentes das éticas e estéticas. Em sentido físico dar empobrece; em sentido ético, enriquece. As leis da natureza não são portanto um cordão em torno das coisas, de modo que nada possa penetrar nem sair, mas apenas uma fórmula para o modo em que, segundo a nossa observação, cada força opera segundo a sua natureza.

Todos esses elementos e forças, com as leis que neles habitam, são, segundo a visão de mundo teísta, mantidos de momento a momento por Deus, que é a causalidade última e suprema, inteligente e livre, de todas as coisas. Como criaturas, não têm subsistência em si mesmas. É o poder onipresente e eterno de Deus que mantém e governa tudo. Nele, em seu pensamento e em seu governo, está a unidade, a harmonia que mantém unidas e liga todas as coisas na mais rica diversidade e as conduz a um só alvo. Por isso há nas criaturas, como repetidas vezes diz Agostinho, unidade, medida, ordem, número, modo, grau e espécie: a uns deu ser mais amplo, a outros menos, e assim ordenou as naturezas das essências por graus. Deus está presente em tudo. Nele todas as coisas vivem, se movem e são. Natureza e história são obra sua. Ele sempre opera. Tudo nos revela Deus. Milagres não são, portanto, absolutamente necessários para nos fazer conhecer Deus como sustentador e governador do universo. Tudo é ato seu. Nada acontece sem a sua vontade. E por isso tudo é também revelação, palavra, obra de Deus.

12. Com tal visão de mundo uma revelação sobrenatural não está absolutamente em conflito. Pois aqui a natureza não existe um só instante independentemente de Deus, mas vive e se move nele. Todo poder que nela aparece é dele derivado e opera segundo a lei que ele nela pôs. Deus não está fora da natureza e não está dela apartado por uma cerca de leis, mas está presente nela e a sustenta pela palavra do seu poder. Ele opera de dentro, e pode fazer aparecer novas potências, distintas das existentes na natureza e na operação. E essas potências mais altas não anulam as inferiores, mas tomam ainda assim um lugar próprio ao lado e diante delas. O espírito humano se esforça a todo momento por contrariar as forças inferiores da natureza em sua operação e por dominá-las: toda a cultura é um poder pelo qual o homem domina a natureza. Do mesmo modo, na revelação, na profecia e no milagre, aparece um novo poder divino, que decerto ocupa um lugar próprio no cosmos, mas absolutamente não conflita com as potências inferiores em suas leis.

Não se trata de nenhuma pretensa suspensão das leis da natureza pelos milagres. Não há perfuração da natureza. Já Tomás dizia: quando Deus faz algo contra o curso da natureza, não se suprime toda a ordem do universo, mas o curso de uma coisa para outra. Pelo milagre não se produz mudança alguma nas potências que estão na natureza, nem nas leis segundo as quais elas operam. A única coisa que acontece no milagre é que a operação das potências presentes na natureza é suspensa num ponto determinado, porque entra outra potência, que opera segundo uma lei própria e produz uma operação própria.

A ciência, portanto, nada tem a temer do supranatural. Mas que cada ciência permaneça em seu domínio e não se arrogue o direito de prescrever a lei à outra. É direito e dever da ciência natural, dentro de sua área, buscar as causas naturais dos fenômenos. Mas que ela não domine a filosofia, quando esta investiga a origem e o destino das coisas; que reconheça também o direito e a independência da religião e da teologia, e não solape o fundamento em que estas repousam. Também entre as diversas ciências o alvo não está na uniformidade, mas na harmonia. Da supressão das fronteiras nasceu a afirmação de Hume, Voltaire e Renan de que jamais um milagre foi suficientemente estabelecido, e de que a experiência constante não pode ser derrubada por alguns testemunhos. Renan recusa-se a crer num milagre enquanto uma comissão de homens de ciência, fisiologistas, químicos, não houver investigado tal fato e, após repetida experimentação, o houver estabelecido como milagre. Com tal condição o milagre está julgado a priori: pois, quanto aos milagres da Escritura, a oportunidade de tal experimento não é concedida nem a Renan nem a nenhum de nós. Os milagres pertencem de uma vez por todas à história, e na história vale outro método que na física: aqui o experimento está em seu lugar, mas na história temos de contentar-nos com testemunhos. Se, porém, no domínio histórico o método do experimento tiver de ser introduzido e aplicado, não há um só fato que resista à prova. Então é o fim de toda história. Com o experimento não se pode provar a revelação.

Além disso, a natureza, o cosmos, ainda é concebida por demais como uma máquina, que está pronta e é agora movida por uma só força e se move sempre segundo uma só lei. O deísmo tinha essa representação grosseira, mas ela é ainda inconscientemente partilhada por muitos e serve no combate à revelação. Mas o cosmos não é uma obra acabada que agora possua certa independência; é physis, natura em sentido próprio: está sempre em devir, encontra-se em desenvolvimento teleológico contínuo, é conduzido em períodos sucessivos a um destino divino. Em tal concepção da natureza os milagres estão, de novo, inteiramente em seu lugar. Num sistema que, como o de Hellwald, termina com a terra girando em desolação lunar e com a pergunta sem resposta sobre para que foram o gênero humano, a sua cultura e os seus ideais, revelação e milagre não seriam senão um absurdo. Mas a Escritura nos ensina que a revelação serve para isto: recriar em reino de Deus a criação corrompida pelo pecado. Aqui a revelação ocupa um lugar inteiramente proporcionado e teleológico no plano do mundo que Deus formou para si e realiza no curso dos tempos.

Nesse sentido já dizia Agostinho que o prodígio se dá não contra a natureza, mas contra aquilo que da natureza é conhecido. A expressão foi muitas vezes interpretada em sentido errado, em favor de uma teologia que procurou entender os milagres como operação de uma potência que por natureza está presente no homem ou na natureza, ou que nele é restaurada pela regeneração ou pela fé. Essa concepção singular já ocorre em Fílon e no neoplatonismo, e encontrou depois eco em vários teólogos cristãos, como Böhme e Oetinger: revelação, inspiração e milagre pertenceriam à disposição original da natureza humana, enfraquecida pelo pecado mas renovável por caminho ético — pela união com Deus, pela purificação ascética, pela regeneração —, de modo que todos os crentes estariam inspirados e poderiam fazer milagres. Mas essa tentativa de explicação não pode ser aceita: ela confunde o natural com o sobrenatural, o supranatural com o religioso-ético, e apaga as fronteiras entre profecia e mântica, milagre e magia, inspiração e iluminação.

Assim tampouco se pode explicar a expressão de Agostinho acima mencionada. Por natura nota ele entende a natureza em nosso sentido; e tendo isso em vista chega a dizer que o milagre é contra naturam. Mas esse mesmo milagre foi desde o princípio acolhido por Deus na natureza em sentido mais amplo, isto é, no destino das coisas determinado por Deus, no plano divino do mundo. O mesmo pensamento foi mais tarde expresso também por Leibniz: Deus acolheu desde o princípio os milagres em seu plano do mundo e os produz no seu tempo; os milagres não se explicam pelas naturezas das coisas criadas, mas razões de uma ordem superior à da natureza o movem a fazê-los. Os milagres não jazem, portanto, como um germe, potencialmente encerrados nas forças da natureza, mas são elementos constitutivos no plano do mundo de Deus. Nessa medida os milagres pertencem muito certamente à natureza: eles não entram de fora no cosmos existente para perturbá-lo, mas estão acolhidos na própria ideia do mundo e servem para a restauração e a perfeição da natureza caída. Sim, mesmo sem pecado teria havido no mundo lugar para profecia e milagre. O sobrenatural não se tornou necessário primeiro pela queda. Não a revelação e o milagre em si mesmos, mas somente o caráter soteriológico que ambos agora portam foi causado pelo pecado. Revelação e religião, profecia e milagre não são em si mesmos dona superaddita: são inteiramente naturais, na medida em que pertencem à ideia de mundo de Deus e ao plano do mundo que ele, apesar de toda oposição, leva a execução no tempo.

Não obstante, a revelação constitui uma ordem de coisas distinta da ordo naturae ordinária: um sistema de palavras e atos de Deus, que ele mesmo é governado por um princípio e aparece diante de nossos olhos como um todo orgânico. A revelação não é um ato isolado de Deus no tempo, apartado do todo da natureza, mas é um mundo em si mesmo, distinto da natureza e contudo adaptado a ela, aparentado a ela, destinado a ela. Nesse sistema de revelação, que começa no paraíso e só termina na parusia, muito ainda é obscuro e inexplicado, mas linhas mestras podem ser traçadas: tanto na história das profecias quanto na dos milagres há ordem e progresso a descobrir, e é a bela tarefa da historia revelationis rastreá-las e descobrir o sistema que jaz oculto em sua história. Que reste ainda muito irredutível a regra não deve espantar, e menos ainda deve ser explorado como fundamento de incredulidade: também a filosofia da natureza e da história está a todo momento diante de cruzes que não sabe explicar, e nem por isso alguém duvida da unidade da natureza e do plano da história. Comparada com estas, a revelação está até em caso favorável: suas linhas mestras estão fixadas. Começando no paraíso e terminando na parusia, ela forma uma grandiosa história, que espalha luz sobre toda a natureza e toda a história e nelas, segundo a palavra de Agostinho, preserva do excesso o extraordinário pelo ordinário e enobrece o ordinário pelo extraordinário. Israel a preparação, Cristo o centro, a igreja o desdobramento, a parusia a coroa — esse é o cordão que ata os fatos da revelação.

Por isso a fé na revelação especial é, ao fim, na verdade uma só com a fé em outro mundo, melhor que este. Se este mundo, com as potências e leis que naturalmente nele habitam, é o único e o melhor, então temos, é claro, de nos contentar com ele. Então as leis da natureza são iguais aos decretos de Deus; então este mundo é o Filho, o Logos, a imagem própria de Deus; então na ordo naturae em que vivemos já está a revelação plena e adequada da sabedoria e do poder de Deus. Que direito há então de esperar que o Lá se torne um dia o Aqui, que o ideal passe à realidade, que o bem triunfe sobre o mal, e que o mundo dos valores venha um dia a reger o mundo da realidade? A evolução não nos leva até lá. Nihil fit ex nihilo. Deste mundo não sai paraíso algum. O que nele não está não pode dele proceder. Se não há um Além, nenhum Deus que esteja acima da natureza, nenhuma ordo supernaturalis, então ao pecado, às trevas, à morte pertence a última palavra. A revelação da Escritura nos dá a conhecer outro mundo, de santidade e de glória, que desce a este mundo caído, não só como doutrina, mas também como poder divino, como história, como realidade, como sistema harmonioso de palavras e atos em conjunto, e que ergue este mundo de sua queda e do status peccati, pelo status gratiae, e o conduz adiante ao status gloriae. A revelação é a vinda de Deus à humanidade, a fim de habitar com ela eternamente.

§ 11. A Sagrada Escritura

A. Revelação e Escritura

1. A história das religiões mostra não só a conexão íntima entre religião e revelação, mas também entre revelação e Escritura. Fala-se de Escrituras sagradas num sentido estreito: muitos povos possuem um livro ou uma coleção de livros que têm autoridade divina e servem de regra de doutrina e de vida — o Veda, o Avesta, o Alcorão, o Antigo Testamento dos judeus, a Bíblia dos cristãos —, sete ao todo, que Max Müller reuniu sob o nome de religiões do livro. Já esse fenômeno indica que revelação e Escritura não podem estar numa conexão acidental e arbitrária.

Em primeiro lugar, pensamento e palavra, pensar e falar, estão intimamente relacionados. Não são idênticos, pois há também um pensar, uma consciência, ainda que obscura, sem palavra: o homem nada pode dizer que não possa também sentir; pode contudo sentir algo que não possa dizer (Agostinho). Mas a palavra é o pensamento acabado, o pensamento que chegou à independência e à plena maturidade e por isso também o pensamento claro e lúcido, auxílio indispensável do pensar consciente. A língua é a alma da nação, a guardiã dos bens e tesouros da humanidade, o vínculo entre homens, povos e gerações, a grande tradição única que faz o mundo dos homens, uno na natureza, ser também uno na consciência. Ora, assim como o pensamento se incorpora na palavra, a palavra por sua vez se incorpora na escrita. Também a língua não é senão um organismo de sinais, mas de sinais audíveis; e o sinal audível procura naturalmente estabilidade no sinal visível. Por refinada e exata que a escrita se tenha tornado, é imperfeita: nosso pensar fica aquém da coisa, nosso falar aquém do pensar, e há também grande distância entre a palavra e a escrita. Mas nem por isso a escrita deixa de ter grande valor: a escrita é a palavra tornada duradoura, generalizada e eternizada. Faz do pensamento a propriedade dos que estão longe de nós e dos que vêm depois de nós, o bem comum da humanidade. A escrita é a encarnação da palavra.

E sobretudo no domínio religioso a palavra e a escrita adquirem significado mais alto. A revelação no cristianismo é história. Consiste em atos, em acontecimentos que passam e logo pertencem ao passado. É um actus transiens, temporário, até momentâneo, e tem esse caráter perecível em comum com todas as coisas terrenas. E contudo contém pensamentos eternos, que tiveram significado não apenas para o momento em que ocorreu e para as pessoas a quem ocorreu, mas que valem para todos os tempos e para todos os homens. Como unir o que parece contraditório? O deísmo inglês chamou a atenção para esse caráter estranho e fez uma separação entre fato e ideia, entre o temporal e o eterno, entre verdades históricas contingentes e verdades necessárias da razão, concluindo daí que a religio naturalis bastava; e o racionalismo especulativo de Hegel seguiu a mesma trilha: a ideia não se derrama num único indivíduo.

Ora, essa separação mostrou-se praticamente impossível. O desligamento da ideia em relação à história equivale, no cristianismo como em toda religião, nada menos que à perda da própria ideia. A proposição de Lessing — verdades históricas contingentes nunca podem tornar-se prova de verdades necessárias da razão — encontrou muita aprovação; mas isso só se explica pelo sentido anti-histórico e pela divinização da razão do século XVIII. Se os fatos da história fossem acidentais, ela mesma se tornaria um agregado de acontecimentos isolados, sem ordem, sem coerência, sem plano; então não haveria mais história e seu estudo seria ocupação ociosa. Mas a história é justamente a realização dos pensamentos de Deus, a execução de um conselho de Deus a respeito de suas criaturas; há nela unidade, curso, ordem, logos. E tal concepção da história só se tornou possível pelo cristianismo; entre gregos e romanos não se encontra: havia povos, não havia humanidade. A Escritura nos ensina a conhecer a unidade do gênero humano e nos dá a grandiosa concepção de uma história do mundo — e nela ela mesma ocupa o primeiro lugar, que domina tudo. As verdades históricas não são, portanto, acidentais, e menos que todas a história da revelação: ela é tão necessária que sem ela toda a história e toda a humanidade se despedaçam. E, do outro lado, as verdades da razão de que Lessing falava são tudo menos necessárias: a crítica de Kant demonstrou o contrário. A relação é, pois, exatamente a inversa: o histórico foi percebido em seu significado eterno, e o racional veio à luz em sua mutabilidade.

O fato é que herdamos tudo dos antepassados. Nada trouxemos ao mundo. Física e psiquicamente, intelectual e eticamente, dependemos do mundo em torno de nós; e religiosamente não é diferente. A revelação, que existe na história, não pode chegar até nós senão pelo caminho da tradição, no sentido mais amplo. A pergunta de Rousseau e de Strauss — por que essa revelação não é concedida a cada ser humano — está fora de lugar: pressupõe que a revelação não contém senão doutrina e esquece que ela é e tem de ser história. O centro da revelação é a pessoa de Cristo, e Cristo é uma pessoa histórica; sua encarnação, seu padecer e morrer, sua ressurreição e ascensão não são suscetíveis de repetição alguma. Sim, pertence justamente à encarnação que ele entre na história e viva na forma do tempo; ele não teria sido semelhante a nós em todas as coisas se não se tivesse submetido ao tempo e ao espaço, à lei do devir. A encarnação é a unidade do ser — eu sou — e do devir — o Verbo se fez carne. Ademais, também na revelação Deus segue as linhas fundamentais que traçou para a convivência dos homens: a humanidade não é um agregado de indivíduos, mas um todo orgânico em que todos vivem uns dos outros, e a revelação segue essa lei, pois a recriação liga-se à criação. Assim como em todo domínio obtemos por meio da tradição parte nos bens da humanidade, assim também na religião: isso também pertence à ideia da encarnação. Ela mesma é um actus transiens, mas pela tradição torna-se propriedade e bênção de todos os homens.

2. O portador dos bens ideais da humanidade é a linguagem, e a carne da linguagem é a escrita. Também aqui Deus, na revelação, se associa. Para entrar plenamente na humanidade e poder tornar-se inteiramente sua propriedade, a revelação assume a forma da Escritura. A Escritura é a forma de servo da revelação. Sim, o fato central da revelação, a encarnação, conduz à Escritura. Na profecia e no milagre a revelação desce tão baixo e afunda tão fundo que não desdenha como meio nem as formas mais baixas da vida humana e religiosa; o próprio Logos torna-se não apenas homem, mas servo, carne. E do mesmo modo a palavra da revelação assume a forma imperfeita e defeituosa da escrita. Mas só assim a revelação se torna bem da humanidade. O fim da revelação não é Cristo; Cristo é centro e meio; o fim é que Deus habite novamente em suas criaturas e revele sua glória no cosmo — Deus tudo em todos. Também a Escritura é, portanto, meio e instrumento, não fim. Ela brota da encarnação de Deus em Cristo, é em certo sentido sua continuação, o caminho pelo qual Cristo faz sua morada em sua igreja, a preparação do caminho para a plena inabitação de Deus.

Com isso torna-se clara a relação em que a Escritura está para com a revelação. A teologia antiga deixava a revelação ser absorvida quase inteiramente na teopneustia, na dádiva da Escritura. Parecia que nada havia por trás da Escritura, e a Escritura vinha a ficar inteiramente destacada e isolada, sem raiz na história, com o aspecto de ter caído de repente do céu. A poderosa concepção da revelação como uma história, que começa com a queda e só termina na parusia, era-lhe quase inteiramente estranha. Essa visão é insustentável. Pois, na maioria dos casos, a revelação precede a teopneustia e dela é separada muitas vezes por longo tempo; e muitas pessoas foram órgãos de revelação — Elias, Eliseu — sem jamais terem escrito um livro acolhido no cânon, ao passo que outras não receberam revelação alguma nem fizeram milagres, e contudo escreveram. A teologia mais recente com razão distinguiu, pois, revelação e Escritura. Mas caiu não raro no outro extremo: desligou a Escritura tão inteiramente da revelação que esta se tornou um apêndice acidental, um documento humano da revelação, talvez ainda útil, mas em todo caso não necessário. Em toda sorte de variações se cantou esse tema: não a letra, mas o Espírito; não a Escritura, mas a pessoa de Cristo; não a palavra, mas o fato é o principium da teologia. E Lessing chegou à conhecida súplica: ó Lutero! tu, grande e santo homem, libertaste-nos do jugo do papa, mas quem nos libertará do jugo da letra, do papa de papel? Essa visão não é menos errada e é ainda mais perigosa que a outra. Pois revelação e teopneustia em muitos casos coincidem inteiramente: longe de tudo o que se descreve na Escritura ter sido antes revelado, muito surgiu na consciência sob o próprio escrever, como nos salmos e nas epístolas. Quem nega a teopneustia e despreza a Escritura perde também, em grandíssima parte, a revelação; nada lhe resta senão escritos humanos. Além disso, a revelação, mesmo onde de fato ou por palavra precedeu à descrição, só nos é conhecida única e exclusivamente pela Sagrada Escritura. Nada sabemos, literalmente nada, das revelações de Deus sob Israel e em Cristo senão pela Sagrada Escritura. Não há outro principium. Com a Sagrada Escritura cai, portanto, toda a revelação, cai também a pessoa de Cristo. Justamente porque a revelação é história, não há outro modo de saber algo dela senão o modo ordinário em toda história, isto é, o testemunho. Não há comunhão com Cristo senão pela comunhão na palavra dos apóstolos. E, finalmente, a teopneustia é uma propriedade das Escrituras, um ato próprio e distinto de Deus na produção da Escritura, e assim ela mesma deve ser reconhecida e honrada como ato de revelação. O desprezo ou a rejeição da Escritura não é, pois, ato inocente a respeito de testemunhos humanos sobre a revelação, mas negação de um ato especial de revelação de Deus e, portanto, em princípio, negação de toda revelação.

Ambas as direções são, portanto, unilaterais: tanto a que desconhece a revelação em benefício da Escritura quanto a que desconhece a Escritura em benefício da revelação. Naquela não vem à sua justiça a manifestação; nesta, a teopneustia. Ali se tem Escritura sem escritos; aqui, escritos sem Escritura. Ali há negligência da história; aqui, desprezo da palavra. A primeira direção resvala para o intelectualismo ortodoxo; a segunda corre o perigo do espiritualismo anabatista. A visão correta é esta: que a Escritura nem se identifica com a revelação nem se desprende dela e se põe fora dela. A teopneustia é um elemento na revelação, um ato final em que a revelação de Deus em Cristo, para esta dispensação, é levada a termo; nessa medida, portanto, o fim, a coroa, a perpetuação e a publicação da revelação — o meio pelo qual a revelação imediata se fez mediata e foi recolhida em livros.

3. A revelação, tomada como um todo, só alcançou seu fim e seu alvo na parusia de Cristo. Mas ela se reparte em dois grandes períodos, em duas dispensações distintas. A primeira destinava-se a incorporar a plena revelação de Deus na história da humanidade e a fazê-la parte dela. Toda essa economia pode ser vista como uma vinda de Deus ao seu povo, como uma busca de um tabernáculo para Cristo. É pois predominantemente uma revelação de Deus em Cristo; traz caráter objetivo; caracteriza-se por atos extraordinários — teofania, profecia e milagre são os caminhos pelos quais Deus vem ao seu povo. Cristo é o sujeito dela: é o Logos que resplandece nas trevas, vem para o que é seu e se faz carne em Jesus. Nessa dispensação o pôr-por-escrito acompanha o passo da revelação; ambos crescem de século em século, e à medida que a revelação avança a Escritura aumenta em extensão. Quando em Cristo a plena revelação de Deus foi dada, quando teofania, profecia e milagre nele atingiram seu ápice, então está também presente a conclusão da Escritura. Cristo revelou-nos plenamente o Pai em sua pessoa e obra; por isso na Escritura essa revelação nos é plenamente descrita. A revelação chegou, em certo sentido, ao seu fim: a dispensação do Filho dá lugar à dispensação do Espírito, e a revelação objetiva passa à apropriação subjetiva.

A revelação, portanto, prossegue, mas de outro modo e em outras formas. O Espírito Santo tudo toma de Cristo; nada acrescenta de novo à revelação. Esta está concluída e por isso não é suscetível de acréscimo. Cristo é o Logos cheio de graça e de verdade; sua obra está acabada. Sua obra não pode ser suplementada nem aumentada pelas boas obras dos santos; sua palavra, pela tradição; sua pessoa, pelo papa. Em Cristo Deus se revelou plenamente e plenamente se deu. Por isso também a Escritura está concluída: é a palavra perfeita de Deus. E contudo, ainda que de outro modo, a revelação continua, pois ela não tem seu alvo final em Cristo, que é mediador, mas na nova humanidade, na habitação de Deus com o seu povo. Continua em suas três formas de teofania, profecia e milagre. Deus vem à congregação de Cristo e nela habita; onde dois ou três estão reunidos em seu nome, ali está ele no meio. Continua sempre a fazer milagres: renova pela regeneração, pela santificação e pela glorificação. Mas isso não basta: não só o mundo do ser, também o da consciência deve ser renovado. Palavra e ato andaram juntos na primeira dispensação; acompanham-se também na economia do Espírito Santo. O Espírito Santo regenera, mas também ilumina. E assim como os milagres espirituais não acrescentam elemento novo aos fatos objetivos da revelação, assim também a profecia na congregação, a iluminação do Espírito Santo, não é revelação de coisas ocultas, mas aplicação dos tesouros de sabedoria e de conhecimento que estão compreendidos em Cristo e expostos em sua palavra. As unilateralidades do intelectualismo e do misticismo devem ambas ser evitadas, pois ambas desconhecem a riqueza da revelação. Porque cabeça e coração, o homem inteiro em seu ser e em sua consciência, devem ser renovados, a revelação nesta dispensação prossegue na Escritura e na igreja em conjunto. E ambas estão na mais estreita conexão uma com a outra. A Escritura é a luz da igreja, a igreja é a vida da Escritura. Fora da igreja a Escritura é um enigma, uma pedra de tropeço; sem regeneração ninguém a pode conhecer. E, inversamente, a vida da igreja é coisa oculta, se a Escritura não faz brilhar sobre ela a sua luz. Na igreja a Escritura confirma e sela a sua revelação, e na Escritura a igreja aprende a entender-se a si mesma em sua relação com Deus e com o mundo, em seu passado, presente e futuro.

Por isso a Escritura tampouco está por si só. Não pode ser concebida deisticamente. Está enraizada numa história de séculos e é fruto da revelação sob Israel e em Cristo. Mas não é por isso um livro de tempos há muito passados. A Sagrada Escritura não é uma história morta nem uma velha crônica, mas a palavra sempre viva e eternamente jovem que Deus agora, neste tempo e sempre, faz sair para o seu povo. É a fala continuamente prosseguida de Deus a nós. Não serve apenas para nos fazer conhecer historicamente o que aconteceu no passado; nem tem sequer a intenção de nos fornecer uma narrativa histórica segundo o padrão de fidelidade que se exige em outras ciências. A Sagrada Escritura é um livro de intenção: tudo o que dantes foi escrito, para nosso ensino foi escrito, para que pela paciência e consolação das Escrituras tenhamos esperança. Nela Deus vem diariamente ao seu povo; nela fala aos seus filhos, não de longe, mas de perto. A Escritura é a comunicação permanente entre o céu e a terra, entre Cristo e sua congregação, entre Deus e seus filhos. Não nos prende apenas ao passado, liga-nos ao Senhor vivo nos céus. É a viva vox Dei, a carta do Deus onipotente à sua criatura. A teopneustia é, portanto, também uma propriedade permanente da Sagrada Escritura: ela não foi teopneusta apenas no momento em que foi posta em livro; ela é teopneusta. A Escritura foi divinamente inspirada não só quando foi escrita, soprando Deus pelos escritores, mas também quando é lida, soprando Deus pela Escritura e soprando a Escritura ele mesmo (Bengel). É o Espírito Santo quem mantém e conecta um ao outro profecia e milagre, Escritura e igreja, e assim prepara a parusia. Pois quando o ser e a consciência tiverem sido ambos inteiramente renovados, então a revelação tem o seu fim. A Escritura não é então mais necessária. Profecia e milagre tornaram-se natureza, pois Deus habita entre o seu povo.

B. A doutrina da inspiração

4. A autoridade da Sagrada Escritura foi reconhecida por todas as igrejas cristãs. Não há dogma sobre o qual haja mais unidade. A gênese dessa fé não pode mais ser rastreada: ela existe até onde recuamos. No Antigo Testamento a autoridade dos mandamentos e ordenanças de Jahvé, isto é, da tora e igualmente dos profetas, já está firmada; Moisés e os profetas sempre foram em Israel homens de autoridade divina, e seus escritos foram imediatamente reconhecidos como autoritativos. Sobre isso os judeus edificaram uma doutrina da inspiração tão estrita e exclusiva quanto possível. A tora está à frente da Escritura do Antigo Testamento; em seu conteúdo é idêntica à Sabedoria divina, revelação da salvação suficiente em si mesma, o bem supremo, o caminho para a vida. Todos esses escritos são divinos, santos, regra de doutrina e de vida, e de conteúdo infinito: nada neles é supérfluo, tudo tem sentido, cada letra, cada sinal, até a forma de uma letra, pois tudo deriva de Deus. Só que essa autoridade foi de fato novamente prejudicada pela tradição. A Escritura, com efeito, não bastava a si mesma: segundo a concepção dos judeus havia também uma tradição oral que, originada de Deus, fora transmitida por Moisés e pelos profetas aos escribas, e foi por fim consignada na Mishná e na Guemará, que agora, como norma normata, se acrescentou à norma normans.

A congregação cristã, com Jesus e os apóstolos, rejeitou toda a tradição judaica, mas desde o começo reconheceu a autoridade divina da Escritura do Antigo Testamento. A congregação nunca esteve sem Bíblia: recebeu o Antigo Testamento da mão dos apóstolos imediatamente com autoridade divina, e a fé cristã incluiu desde o princípio a fé nessa autoridade. Clemente Romano ensina a inspiração do modo mais claro possível, chamando os escritos veterotestamentários "os oráculos de Deus" e "as Escrituras verdadeiras, dadas pelo Espírito Santo", e estende a inspiração também aos apóstolos. De resto, os padres apostólicos fornecem pouco material para o dogma da Escritura: a inspiração mesma está firme, mas sobre a extensão e os limites dela ainda há divergência. Em Ireneu já está presente o pleno reconhecimento da inspiração de ambos os Testamentos: as Escrituras são perfeitas, porquanto ditas por Deus e por seu Espírito; têm um só autor e um só propósito. O ato da inspiração é representado como um impelir e conduzir, mas sobretudo e frequentemente como um ditar do Espírito Santo: os escritores eram as mãos do Espírito Santo; não eram os auctores, mas apenas scriptores, escribas; autor da Sagrada Escritura é Deus somente. Nada há nela de indiferente e nada de supérfluo, mas tudo é cheio de sabedoria divina: nenhum til ou iota é vão, e nada há na Escritura que não desça da plenitude da majestade divina (Orígenes). A Sagrada Escritura era, portanto, sem defeito algum, sem erro algum, também em matéria cronológica e histórica. Em sua carta a Jerônimo, Agostinho diz crer firmemente que nenhum dos escritores canônicos errou ao escrever; e que, se aparece um erro, não é lícito dizer: o autor deste livro não sustentou a verdade — mas: ou o códice está defeituoso, ou o tradutor errou, ou tu não entendes. Ao mesmo tempo, porém, contra o montanismo, a autoconsciência dos escritores na inspiração foi acentuada o mais fortemente possível: investigação prévia, uso de fontes e da memória, diferença de linguagem e de estilo foram plenamente reconhecidos. Mas nada disso afetou a fé na origem divina e na autoridade divina da Sagrada Escritura, e o uso prático da Escritura na pregação, na prova, no tratamento exegético prova isso ainda mais fortemente que as declarações isoladas.

5. A teologia da Idade Média ficou com os padres da igreja e não desenvolveu mais a doutrina da inspiração. Tomás não trata da doutrina da Escritura, mas dá seu pensamento sobre a inspiração na doutrina da profecia. A profecia é propriamente um dom do intelecto e consiste primeiro na inspiratio, isto é, numa elevação da mente para perceber as coisas divinas, que se dá movendo o Espírito Santo, e segundo na revelatio, pela qual as coisas divinas são conhecidas, removem-se a escuridão e a ignorância, e a própria profecia se completa. Mais particularmente, a profecia consiste no dom do lumen propheticum, pelo qual as coisas divinas se tornam visíveis, assim como as naturais pela luz natural da razão. Mas essa revelação difere: dá-se ora pela mediação dos sentidos, ora pela força da imaginação, ora também de modo puramente espiritual. Os autores dos hagiógrafos escreveram repetidamente sobre matérias naturalmente cognoscíveis, e então falaram não como que da pessoa de Deus, mas de sua própria pessoa, ainda que com o auxílio da luz divina. Tomás reconhece assim modos e graus diversos de inspiração, e diz também que os apóstolos estavam suficientemente equipados de conhecimento para o seu ofício, mas não sabiam tudo o que se pode saber. Erro ou falsidade, porém, não pode ocorrer na Escritura. A discussão mais extensa é a de Boaventura no proêmio de seu Breviloquium: a Sagrada Escritura não tem sua origem na investigação humana, mas na revelação do Pai pelo Filho no Espírito Santo; ninguém a pode conhecer senão pela fé, pois Cristo é seu conteúdo; e, por mais que use modos diversos de falar, é sempre genuína, nada há nela de falso, pois o Espírito Santo, seu autor perfeitíssimo, nada pôde dizer de falso, nada de supérfluo, nada de diminuído.

De resto, encontramos pouco material para o dogma da Escritura na escolástica. Não se sentia necessidade de um tratamento especial do locus de Sacra Scriptura, porque sua autoridade estava firme e ninguém a contestava; ela teve na Idade Média, ao menos formalmente, um domínio incontestado, e foi também muito mais lida, estudada, explicada e traduzida do que os protestantes mais tarde supuseram. Não havia combate à Escritura. Nem Abelardo diz que profetas e apóstolos erraram ao escrever, mas apenas que às vezes erraram como pessoas; e Agobardo de Lião tampouco é adversário da inspiração, apenas advoga uma concepção mais orgânica, que reconhece diferença de linguagem e estilo e desvios gramaticais.

6. O concílio de Trento declarou que a verdade está contida nos livros escritos e nas tradições não escritas, recebidas da boca de Cristo pelos apóstolos ou por eles transmitidas sob o ditado do Espírito Santo, e que por isso aceita e venera todos os livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento, visto que um só Deus é autor de ambos, e igualmente as tradições. A inspiração foi aqui estendida à tradição, mas nem por isso deixou de ser claramente afirmada da Sagrada Escritura. Entre os teólogos romanos, porém, logo surgiu grande divergência sobre a natureza e a extensão da inspiração; tanto o autor de ambos os testamentos quanto o ditar foram interpretados diversamente.

Os teólogos do século XVI ainda eram em geral adeptos da direção mais estrita dos padres e dos escolásticos, e ensinavam uma operação positiva do Espírito de Deus sobre os escritores, que se estendia também às palavras isoladas. Mas logo surgiu uma direção mais frouxa, e justamente entre os jesuítas. Em 1586 Lessius e Hamelius defenderam em Lovaina, entre outras, estas proposições: primeira, para que algo seja Sagrada Escritura não é necessário que cada uma de suas palavras tenha sido inspirada pelo Espírito Santo; segunda, não é necessário que cada verdade e sentença tenha sido imediatamente inspirada pelo Espírito Santo ao próprio escritor; terceira, um livro qualquer escrito por indústria humana sem a assistência do Espírito Santo torna-se Sagrada Escritura se depois o Espírito Santo testificar que nada há nele de falso. Aqui se rejeita a inspiração verbal, julga-se desnecessária a inspiração imediata de muitas matérias que os escritores conheciam, e chega-se a ter por suficiente, no caso de alguns livros, uma inspiratio subsequens, uma aprovação posterior do Espírito Santo. As duas primeiras proposições encontraram muita aceitação; a terceira foi longe demais e só por poucos foi adotada. Outra direção concebe a inspiração como assistência puramente negativa do Espírito Santo, pela qual os escritores foram preservados de erro. Ambas as direções mantinham a inerrância da Sagrada Escritura, mas identificavam esse resultado de fato com a origem divina da Escritura. Em contraste, a inerrância em matérias que não são religioso-éticas em sentido estrito foi abandonada, e a inspiração limitada ao propriamente dogmático-ético, por Erasmo e outros. Aparentada a isso é a representação que admite inspiração própria para as verdades de fé e de costumes, mas para o restante do conteúdo apenas aquela assistência de que todos os crentes gozam. De igual teor é a concepção da escola romana de Tübingen, que, sob a influência de Schleiermacher, pôs a inspiração em conexão com todo o organismo da revelação e a fez estender-se em grau diverso às diferentes partes da Escritura.

A maioria dos teólogos romanos depois da Reforma segue um caminho intermediário. De um lado rejeitam a inspiração frouxa, que consistiria apenas em assistência negativa ou aprovação posterior, pois então todas as decisões dos concílios, então tudo o que é verdadeiro se chamaria inspirado. De outro lado negam também a estrita inspiratio verbalis, segundo a qual não só todas as matérias, mas até todas as palavras isoladas são ditadas e inspiradas, pois muitas matérias e palavras eram conhecidas dos escritores e não precisavam ser inspiradas; e a diferença de linguagem e estilo e o uso de fontes provam também a incorreção da inspiração verbal. Basta, portanto, uma inspiratio realis, que é ora revelação definida, ora assistência. O Vaticano não propôs uma teoria determinada, mas condenou decididamente a da inspiratio subsequens e a da mera assistentia, e declarou, repetida a decisão tridentina, que a igreja reconhece esses livros como santos e canônicos não porque, compostos por mera indústria humana, tenham depois sido aprovados por sua autoridade, nem porque contenham a revelação sem erro, mas porque, escritos sob a inspiração do Espírito Santo, têm a Deus por autor e como tais foram entregues à própria igreja. Essa decisão nada deixa a desejar em clareza: a igreja romana concebe a inspiração como operação positiva do Espírito de Deus e sustenta firmemente a infalibilidade da Escritura.

7. Os reformadores aceitaram a Escritura e sua teopneustia tais como a igreja lhas transmitira. Lutero, de seu ponto de vista soteriológico, emitiu aqui e ali juízo desfavorável sobre alguns livros e concedeu inexatidões menores, mas por outro lado sustentou a inspiração no sentido mais estrito e a estendeu até às letras. Os símbolos luteranos não têm artigo próprio sobre a Escritura, mas pressupõem por toda parte sua origem e autoridade divinas; e os dogmáticos luteranos chamam os escritores amanuenses de Deus, mãos de Cristo e tabeliães ou notários do Espírito Santo. Entre os reformados encontramos a mesma doutrina. Zuínglio põe muitas vezes a palavra externa atrás da interna e concede inexatidões históricas e cronológicas. Mas Calvino tem a Escritura, no sentido pleno e literal, por palavra de Deus; não reconhece a Epístola aos Hebreus como paulina, mas sim como canônica, e admite um erro em Mateus, não porém nos autógrafos. As confissões reformadas em geral têm um artigo sobre a Sagrada Escritura e exprimem claramente sua autoridade divina.

Numa ou noutra ocasião percebe-se uma tentativa tímida de visão mais orgânica: a inspiração nem sempre consistia em revelação, mas, quando se tratava de matérias conhecidas, em assistência e direção; os escritores nem sempre eram passivos, mas também ativos, de modo que usavam o próprio entendimento, memória, juízo e estilo, mas de tal maneira que eram conduzidos pelo Espírito Santo e preservados de erro. Nem por isso, porém, se causava o mínimo detrimento à divindade e à infalibilidade da Escritura. Os escritores não eram auctores, mas scriptores, amanuenses, notários, mãos e cálamos de Deus. A inspiração não era negativa, mas sempre positiva: um impulsus ad scribendum e uma suggestio rerum et verborum. Comunicava não só matérias desconhecidas, mas também as já conhecidas, pois os escritores tinham então de conhecê-las precisamente agora e precisamente assim, não só materialmente mas também formalmente, não só humanamente mas também divinamente. A inspiração estendia-se a todas as matérias cronológicas, históricas e geográficas, às palavras, até às vogais e aos sinais. Barbarismos e solecismos não eram admitidos na Sagrada Escritura, e a diferença de estilo era explicada pela vontade do Espírito Santo, que ora quis escrever de um modo, ora de outro. Materialmente, quanto às letras, sílabas e palavras, a Escritura é do gênero das criaturas; mas formalmente, quanto ao sentido teopneusto, é erradamente contada entre as criaturas, pois é a mente, o conselho, a sabedoria de Deus.

8. Mas quando a teoria da inspiração havia tirado sua última consequência, ergueu-se oposição de todos os lados. Já em tempos anteriores não faltou crítica da Escritura. Os gnósticos, os maniqueus e as seitas aparentadas na Idade Média arrancaram o Novo Testamento do Velho e atribuíram este a um deus inferior, o demiurgo. Sobretudo Márcion, partindo da antítese paulina entre justiça e graça, lei e evangelho, dirigiu seu ataque contra os antropomorfismos, as contradições e a imoralidade do Antigo Testamento, e disse que um Deus que se ira, se arrepende, se vinga, tem ciúme e dá uma lei estrita não pode ser o Deus verdadeiro. Celso continuou essa luta com argúcia e entregou uma crítica cortante dos primeiros capítulos do Gênesis e das narrativas dos milagres, acusando Jesus e os apóstolos, à falta de explicação melhor, de engano. Porfírio começou a crítica histórica dos livros da Bíblia: contestou a exegese alegórica do Antigo Testamento, atribuiu o Pentateuco a Esdras, considerou Daniel um produto do tempo de Antíoco e submeteu também muitas narrativas dos Evangelhos a crítica aguda. Mas com isso se alcançou o fim da crítica daquele tempo: a Escritura chegou a domínio geral e incontestado, e a crítica foi esquecida. Reviveu no Renascimento, foi por algum tempo contida pela Reforma e pela contrarreforma romana, e logo tornou a levantar-se no racionalismo, no deísmo e na filosofia francesa. A princípio dirigiu-se mais contra o conteúdo da Escritura, no século XVIII racional; depois mais contra a autenticidade dos escritos, no século XIX de inclinação histórica. Porfírio substitui Celso, Renan segue a Voltaire, Paulus de Heidelberg cede lugar a Strauss e a Baur. Mas o resultado permanece sempre o mesmo: a Escritura é um livro cheio de erro e de falsidade.

Em consequência dessa crítica, muitos modificaram a doutrina da inspiração. De início a inspiração ainda é mantida como operação sobrenatural do Espírito Santo no escrever, mas limitada ao religioso-ético; no cronológico e no histórico é enfraquecida ou negada, de modo que aqui podem ocorrer erros maiores ou menores. A Palavra de Deus deve ser distinguida da Sagrada Escritura. Assim já ensinavam os socinianos: os escritores escreveram impelidos pelo Espírito divino e sob seu ditado, mas o Antigo Testamento só tem valor histórico, só a doutrina é imediatamente inspirada, no restante é possível errar levemente. Os remonstrantes adotaram o mesmo ponto de vista: reconhecem a inspiração, mas admitem que os escritores por vezes se exprimiram menos exata e precisamente, ou ainda — mais fortemente — que nos livros históricos não precisavam de inspiração nem a receberam.

Mas essa teoria esbarrou em muitas objeções. A separação entre o que é necessário à salvação e o histórico acidental é impossível, porque doutrina e história na Escritura estão inteiramente entretecidas. Faz injustiça à consciência dos escritores, que de modo algum limitam sua autoridade ao religioso-ético, mas a estendem a todo o conteúdo de seus escritos. E está em conflito com o uso da Escritura por Jesus, pelos apóstolos e por toda a igreja cristã. Essa concepção dualista cedeu por isso lugar a outra, a dinâmica, de Schleiermacher, que consiste em transferir a teopneustia do domínio intelectual para o ético. A inspiração não é em primeiro lugar propriedade da Escritura, mas dos escritores: eram homens nascidos de novo, santos; viviam na proximidade de Jesus, moviam-se no círculo santo da revelação e foram assim renovados também em seu pensar e falar. A inspiração é propriedade habitual dos escritores, e disso participam também seus escritos. Mas essa inspiração não se distingue essencialmente, e sim apenas gradualmente, da de todos os crentes, pois todos os crentes são conduzidos pelo Espírito Santo. Tampouco pode ser concebida mecanicamente: a Palavra de Deus não está contida na Escritura como o quadro na moldura, mas penetra e anima todas as partes da Escritura, como a alma todos os membros do corpo. Nem todas as partes, porém, participam dessa inspiração em igual medida: quanto mais perto algo está do centro da revelação, tanto mais respira também o Espírito de Deus. A Escritura é, portanto, ao mesmo tempo livro divino e humano; de um lado contém a mais alta verdade e, contudo, é ao mesmo tempo fraca, falível, imperfeita; não a revelação mesma, mas o documento da revelação; defeituosa em muitos respeitos, mas ainda assim instrumento suficiente para chegarmos a um conhecimento infalível da revelação. E, finalmente, não é a Escritura, mas a pessoa de Cristo, ou a revelação em geral, o principium da teologia. Naturalmente essa teoria admite muitíssimas modificações, mas os pensamentos fundamentais permanecem os mesmos: a inspiração é em primeiro lugar propriedade dos escritores e só depois de seus escritos; não é ato momentâneo nem dom especial do Espírito Santo, mas propriedade habitual; e opera tão dinamicamente que a possibilidade de erro não está excluída em todas as partes. Essa teoria substituiu quase inteiramente a antiga doutrina da inspiração.

Mas essa teoria não satisfaz nem à congregação nem à assim chamada ciência, pois as objeções críticas contra a Escritura não dizem respeito à periferia, mas ao próprio centro da revelação. Por isso outros foram ainda mais longe e negaram toda inspiração como operação sobrenatural do Espírito de Deus. A Bíblia é uma coleção acidental de escritos humanos, ainda que escritos por homens de profunda disposição religiosa e surgidos num povo que pode ser chamado por excelência o povo da religião. De revelação e de inspiração só se fala então em sentido figurado; quando muito, cabe notar uma direção especial da providência geral de Deus na origem e na coleção desses escritos. É notável, contudo, que todos esses homens continuem a reconhecer até certo ponto o valor religioso da Escritura e procurem ainda mantê-la como meio de graça para o cultivo da vida religioso-ética. Nisso se distinguem favoravelmente dos radicais, que ajustaram por completo as contas com a Escritura e nada mais lhe reservam senão escárnio e desprezo — Celso e Luciano nos primeiros séculos, e no século XVIII Voltaire, que desde 1760 não teve outro nome para o cristianismo senão l'infâme. Ainda assim, a inspiração da Escritura em sentido positivo e pleno é reconhecida e defendida também neste século, dentro e fora da igreja romana.

C. A inspiração segundo a Escritura

9. O Antigo Testamento fornece para a doutrina da inspiração os seguintes momentos importantes.

a) Os profetas sabem-se chamados pelo Senhor num momento determinado de sua vida. O chamado ia muitas vezes contra o próprio desejo e vontade deles, mas Jahvé foi mais forte. Em Israel era geral a convicção de que os profetas eram mensageiros de Deus, por ele suscitados e enviados, seus servos, que estão diante de sua face.

b) Têm consciência de que Jahvé lhes falou e de que dele receberam a revelação. Ele lhes ensina o que hão de falar, põe as palavras em sua boca. Usa-se sobretudo a fórmula: assim diz o Senhor, ou: veio a mim a palavra do Senhor — expressão de que toda a Escritura do Antigo Testamento está cheia e pela qual o discurso profético é a cada passo introduzido. Jahvé é repetidamente apresentado falando na primeira pessoa. É propriamente ele quem fala por meio deles, por sua boca, por seu ministério. Toda a palavra deles está coberta pela autoridade de Jahvé.

c) Essa consciência é nos profetas tão clara e firme que eles chegam a indicar o lugar e o tempo em que Jahvé lhes falou e a distinguir entre os tempos em que ele lhes falou e aqueles em que não lhes falou. E é tão objetiva que se distinguem claramente de Jahvé: ele lhes fala, e eles escutam com os ouvidos e veem com os olhos e recebem em si as palavras de Jahvé.

d) Daí fazerem contraste agudo entre o que Deus lhes revelou e o que sobe do próprio coração. Aos falsos profetas imputam justamente isto: que falam do próprio coração, sem serem enviados, de modo que são profetas de mentira e adivinhos.

e) Os profetas têm, finalmente, consciência de proclamar, ao falar ou escrever, não a própria palavra, mas a palavra do Senhor. A palavra não lhes foi revelada para si mesmos, mas para outros; não tinham liberdade para escondê-la; têm de falar, e por isso não falam segundo o favor ou o cálculo humano. Por isso são precisamente profetas, faladores em nome de Jahvé e de sua palavra, e sabem que devem dar tudo o que receberam, sem tirar nem acrescentar. Do mesmo impulso se há de derivar também o escrever dos profetas. Os textos em que se dá literalmente uma ordem de escrever são poucos (Ex 17; Is 8; Jr 30) e referem-se apenas a uma porção muito pequena da Escritura do Antigo Testamento. Mas o registro escrito é um estágio posterior, ainda que necessário, na história do profetismo. Muitas profecias certamente nunca foram faladas, mas destinavam-se de fato a ser lidas e ponderadas; a maioria é trabalhada com cuidado, mesmo com arte, e já pela forma mostra que se destina à escrita. Foram ao escrever porque queriam dirigir-se a outros além dos que os podiam ouvir.

f) Entre a palavra recebida e a palavra falada ou escrita há diferença. Nada haveria de degradante para os profetas se tivessem registrado a palavra recebida o mais literalmente possível. Mas a revelação continuava também no momento da teopneustia e modificava e completava a revelação anterior, e assim ela era livremente reproduzida. Precisamente por isso, porém, os profetas reivindicam para a palavra escrita a mesma autoridade que para a palavra falada. Nem sequer as observações intercaladas do profeta entre as palavras mesmas de Jahvé constituem exceção: a transição da palavra de Jahvé para a palavra do profeta e vice-versa é muitas vezes tão súbita, e ambas estão de tal modo entretecidas, que a separação não é possível; têm a mesma autoridade. Isaías chama as suas próprias profecias registradas o Livro de Jahvé.

g) Os profetas não derivam sua revelação da lei, mas a profecia pressupõe uma tora. Todos os profetas estão sobre o fundamento de uma lei; põem-se com seus adversários sobre uma base comum. Todos pressupõem uma aliança concluída por Deus com Israel, uma eleição graciosa de Israel. Os profetas não foram os criadores de uma nova religião, de um monoteísmo ético; nunca falam de tal oposição entre a sua religião e a do povo. Reconhecem que o povo, por quase todos os séculos, se fez culpado de idolatria; mas veem nisso sempre e uniformemente infidelidade e apostasia, partindo do fato de que o povo sabia melhor. Ligam-se com o povo à mesma revelação, à mesma história; falam da convicção de que têm em comum com o povo o mesmo serviço de Deus. Nisso encontram sua força, e por isso provam o povo pela relação de direito existente entre ele e Jahvé. A tora não designa apenas a instrução de Deus em geral, mas é muitas vezes também o nome da revelação de Jahvé já existente e objetiva. Sobre a extensão da tora anterior ao profetismo pode haver divergência; mas a relação de lei e profetas não pode ser invertida sem entrar em conflito com toda a história de Israel e com a essência do profetismo. O profeta em Israel foi, por assim dizer, a voz viva da lei e o mediador de seu cumprimento.

h) É de antemão provável que, num povo há tanto tempo familiarizado com a arte de escrever, a lei já existisse desde cedo em forma escrita. Essa tora teve desde o começo autoridade em Israel; de dúvida ou contestação nada se sabe. Moisés ocupou entre todos os profetas lugar inteiramente único: esteve para com Jahvé em relação especial, o Senhor falava com ele como um amigo com o seu amigo; foi o mediador do Antigo Testamento. Em toda parte a lei atribui a si mesma origem divina: é Jahvé quem por Moisés deu a tora a Israel. Não só as dez palavras e o Livro da Aliança, mas também todas as demais leis são derivadas de um falar de Deus a Moisés; a cada passo ocorre nas leis do Pentateuco a fórmula o Senhor disse ou falou a Moisés, com que quase todo capítulo começa.

i) Os livros históricos do Antigo Testamento foram todos escritos por profetas e em espírito profético. Os profetas não só se referem repetidamente à história de Israel, mas são também eles que a preservaram, editaram e entregaram a nós. Não pretendem, porém, de modo algum fornecer-nos uma narrativa fiel e conexa da sorte do povo israelita, como visam outros historiadores. Também nos livros históricos os profetas se põem sobre o fundamento da tora e descrevem a história de Israel do ponto de vista dela. Os livros históricos são o comentário em fatos da aliança de Deus com Israel. Não são história em nosso sentido, mas profecia, e querem ser julgados por outro padrão que os livros de história dos outros povos: não lhes importa que obtenhamos conhecimento exato da história de Israel, mas que compreendamos nela a revelação de Deus, seu pensamento e seu conselho.

j) Quanto aos livros poéticos em sentido estrito, todos, como os demais escritos do Antigo Testamento, trazem caráter religioso-ético: pressupõem a revelação de Deus como seu fundamento objetivo e mostram o efeito e a aplicação dessa revelação nos diferentes estados e relações da vida humana. A poesia lírica e didática entra em Israel a serviço da revelação de Deus: Davi, o suave em cânticos de Israel, falou pelo Espírito de Jahvé, e sua palavra estava em sua língua.

k) À medida que os vários escritos do Antigo Testamento surgiam e se tornavam conhecidos, eram também reconhecidos como autoritativos. As leis de Jahvé eram depositadas no santuário; as produções poéticas eram conservadas; os Salmos foram cedo coligidos para uso do culto. As profecias eram muito lidas: Ezequiel conhece Isaías e Jeremias, e os profetas posteriores apelam para os anteriores. Na comunidade pós-exílica a autoridade da lei e das profecias está firme: o neto de Jesus ben Sirac menciona no prefácio as três partes em que a Escritura se divide, e Josefo conta vinte e dois livros em três partes. Por consenso de todos, o cânon do Antigo Testamento de Fílon e de Josefo era como o nosso.

10. Esse cânon do Antigo Testamento possuía, para Jesus e os apóstolos e para os seus contemporâneos, autoridade divina, como se evidencia dos seguintes dados.

a) A fórmula com que o Antigo Testamento é citado no Novo é diversa, mas prova sempre que o Antigo Testamento é para os escritores do Novo de origem divina e traz autoridade divina. Jesus cita por vezes uma passagem com o nome do escritor — de Moisés, de Isaías, de Davi —, mas cita também muitíssimo com a fórmula está escrito, ou diz a Escritura, ou ainda segundo o auctor primarius, isto é, Deus ou o Espírito Santo. Os evangelistas empregam frequentemente a expressão o que foi dito pelo profeta, ou pelo Senhor, ou pelo Espírito Santo. Paulo fala sempre da Escritura, que às vezes é apresentada de modo inteiramente pessoal (Gl 3,8). A Epístola aos Hebreus nomeia as mais das vezes Deus ou o Espírito Santo como auctor primarius. Esse modo de citar ensina clara e distintamente que a Escritura do Antigo Testamento formava, para Jesus e os apóstolos, embora composta de partes diversas e proveniente de escritores diversos, um só todo orgânico, que tinha o próprio Deus por autor.

b) Mais de uma vez essa autoridade divina é também decididamente expressa e ensinada por Jesus e pelos apóstolos (Jo 10,35; 2 Tm 3,16; 2 Pe 1,21). A Escritura é uma unidade que não pode ser quebrada nem destruída, nem em seu todo nem em suas partes; e em 2 Timóteo 3,16, excluídas as demais traduções, resta apenas a escolha entre "toda a Escritura" e "cada Escritura", o que no fundo não dá diferença.

c) Nunca Jesus ou os apóstolos se põem criticamente diante do conteúdo do Antigo Testamento, mas o aceitam inteiramente e sem reservas. Em todas as partes — não só nas sentenças religioso-éticas ou naqueles lugares em que o próprio Deus fala, mas também em seus componentes históricos — a Escritura do Antigo Testamento é por eles incondicionalmente reconhecida como verdadeira e divina. Jesus tem o Salmo 110 por davídico e atribui a lei a Moisés. As narrativas históricas são repetidamente citadas e incondicionalmente cridas: a criação do homem, o dilúvio, a história dos patriarcas, Jonas.

d) Dogmaticamente, o Antigo Testamento é para Jesus e os apóstolos sedes doctrinae, fons solutionum, o fim de toda contradição. O Antigo Testamento cumpre-se no Novo. Mais de uma vez se apresenta como se tudo tivesse acontecido com o propósito de cumprir a Sagrada Escritura — para que se cumprisse o que fora dito. Até nos pequenos pormenores esse cumprimento é observado. Jesus e os apóstolos justificam sua conduta e provam sua doutrina repetidamente com apelo ao Antigo Testamento. E essa autoridade divina vai para eles tão longe que até uma só palavra, e mesmo um til e um iota, está por ela coberta (Mt 5,17; Jo 10,35; Gl 3,16).

e) Não obstante, o Antigo Testamento é no Novo citado em geral segundo a tradução grega dos Setenta: os escritores do Novo Testamento, escrevendo em grego e para leitores gregos, usaram comumente a tradução que a estes era conhecida e acessível. As citações desviam-se ora dos Setenta, ora do hebraico, ora de ambos.

f) Quanto ao uso material do Antigo Testamento no Novo, também nele há grande diferença. Às vezes as citações servem de prova e confirmação de alguma verdade; muitíssimas vezes o Antigo Testamento é citado como prova de que devia cumprir-se no Novo e de que se cumpriu, seja em sentido literal, seja em sentido típico; mais de uma vez servem simplesmente para elucidação, admoestação ou consolo. Nesse uso somos muitas vezes surpreendidos pelo sentido que os escritores do Novo Testamento encontram no texto do Antigo. Essa exegese pressupõe em Jesus e nos apóstolos o pensamento de que uma palavra ou uma sentença pode ter sentido muito mais profundo e alcance muito mais largo do que o escritor suspeitava ou nela pôs — o que é o caso, em grau muito mais forte, porque, segundo a convicção de Jesus e de seus apóstolos, a Escritura tem o Espírito Santo por auctor primarius e traz caráter teleológico. Não apenas nos poucos lugares mencionados, mas em toda a concepção e interpretação do Antigo Testamento, o Novo é sustentado pelo pensamento de que o israelítico tem seu cumprimento no cristão. Toda a economia do Antigo Testamento, com todas as suas instituições e direitos e em toda a sua história, aponta para diante, para a dispensação da Nova Aliança. Não o talmudismo, mas o cristianismo é o herdeiro de direito dos tesouros da salvação prometidos a Abraão e à sua semente.

11. Para a inspiração do Novo Testamento encontramos nos escritos dos apóstolos os seguintes dados.

a) O testemunho de Jesus vale em todo o Novo Testamento como divino, verdadeiro, infalível. Ele é o Logos que declara o Pai, a testemunha fiel e verdadeira, o Amém, em quem todas as promessas de Deus são sim e amém. Não fala do que é seu, mas Deus fala por ele; é enviado por Deus e nada fala senão o que viu e ouviu. Não só é Jesus santo e sem pecado em sentido ético, mas é também intelectualmente sem erro, sem mentira e sem engano. É perfeitamente verdade que Jesus, em sentido mais estrito, não se moveu no campo da ciência: veio à terra para nos declarar o Pai e realizar sua obra. Mas a inspiração da Escritura, de que Jesus fala, não é um problema científico, e sim uma verdade religiosa. Se nisso ele errou, enganou-se num ponto estreitíssimamente ligado à vida religiosa, e não pode mais ser reconhecido como nosso mais alto profeta também em religião e teologia. Essa infalibilidade não era nele, porém, dom extraordinário e sobrenatural, nem actus transiens, mas hábito, natureza: não precisava de inspiração como dom extraordinário, porque não recebeu o Espírito por medida, era o Logos, e nele habitava corporalmente a plenitude de Deus.

b) Jesus, porém, nada nos deixou por escrito, e ele mesmo partiu. Tinha, pois, de cuidar de que o seu testemunho verdadeiro fosse entregue à humanidade inalterado e puro. Para isso escolhe os apóstolos. O apostolado é um ofício extraordinário e um serviço inteiramente especial na igreja de Jesus. Os apóstolos são dados a ele pelo Pai, escolhidos por ele mesmo, e por ele preparados e habilitados para a tarefa futura, que consistia em que, logo depois da partida de Jesus, deviam comparecer como testemunhas: tinham contemplado com os olhos e apalpado com as mãos o Verbo da vida, e deviam agora levar esse testemunho a Israel e ao mundo inteiro. Mas todo homem é falso, só Deus é verdadeiro. Também os apóstolos eram inaptos para essa tarefa; não eram, pois, as testemunhas propriamente ditas: Jesus se serve deles apenas como instrumentos. A testemunha propriamente dita, fiel e verdadeira como ele mesmo, é o Espírito Santo. Ele é o Espírito da verdade e testemunhará de Jesus, e só depois dele e por meio dele podem os apóstolos comparecer como testemunhas. Esse Espírito é, portanto, em sentido especial prometido e concedido aos apóstolos: sobretudo João 14,26 ensina isso claramente — o Espírito Santo vos fará lembrar de tudo quanto vos disse. Ele tomará a seu serviço os discípulos com suas pessoas e dons, com sua memória e seu juízo. Materialmente nada acrescentará de novo à revelação que já não esteja contida na pessoa, na palavra e na obra de Cristo, pois tudo toma de Cristo. E esse testemunho do Espírito Santo pela boca dos apóstolos é a glorificação de Jesus, assim como o testemunho de Jesus foi glorificação do Pai.

c) Equipados com esse Espírito em sentido especial, os apóstolos comparecem também publicamente, depois do dia de Pentecostes, como testemunhas. No testemunhar do que viram e ouviram está o significado do apostolado: para isso são chamados e habilitados, disso derivam sua autoridade, a isso apelam diante da contestação e da oposição. E Deus, por sua vez, apõe ao testemunho deles o seu selo por sinais e prodígios e por bênção espiritual. Falam e agem em virtude da autoridade de Cristo. E, embora Jesus em parte alguma tenha dado ordem expressa de registrar também por escrito suas palavras e obras, os apóstolos falam ao escrever com a mesma autoridade: escrever é uma forma particular de testemunhar. Também escrevendo são testemunhas de Cristo, e seu testemunho é fiel e verdadeiro.

d) Entre os apóstolos, Paulo ocupa lugar à parte, pois vê-se obrigado a defender seu apostolado contra os judaizantes. Diante dessa contestação sustenta que foi separado desde o ventre materno, chamado para apóstolo pelo próprio Jesus, que o viu pessoalmente, que recebeu seu Evangelho do próprio Jesus e é, portanto, tão bem quanto os demais apóstolos, testemunha independente e fidedigna; e que também seu apostolado foi confirmado por prodígios e sinais. Tem por isso consciência de que não há outro evangelho senão o seu, de que tem o Espírito de Deus, de que Cristo fala por ele, de que anuncia a palavra de Deus, e isso até nas expressões e nas palavras — e não só quando fala, mas também quando escreve. Apela uma única vez para o juízo da igreja, não porém para submeter sua sentença à aprovação dela, mas ao contrário para ser justificado pela consciência e pelo juízo da igreja, que afinal também tem o Espírito de Deus. Tão pouco se faz Paulo dependente do juízo da igreja, que diz em 1 Coríntios 14,37 que, se alguém pensa ser profeta e ter o Espírito, isso se mostrará justamente em que reconheça que o que Paulo escreve são mandamentos do Senhor.

e) Esses escritos dos apóstolos tiveram desde o princípio autoridade nas igrejas em que eram conhecidos. Foram logo divulgados e receberam com isso autoridade cada vez mais extensa: 2 Pedro 3,16 já conhece muitas cartas de Paulo e as põe na mesma linha das demais Escrituras. Gradualmente vieram traduções para a leitura pública na igreja, que já na primeira metade do século II devem ter existido. Ireneu, Tertuliano, a Peshitta e o fragmento de Muratori põem fora de toda dúvida que, na segunda metade do século II, a maioria dos escritos do Novo Testamento tinha autoridade canônica e gozava de dignidade igual à dos livros do Antigo. Sobre alguns livros permaneceu divergência; mas as objeções contra esses antilegomena foram-se tornando cada vez menores no século III, e os sínodos de Laodiceia, de Hipona e de Cartago puderam incluí-los e fechar o cânon. Essas decisões da igreja não foram ato arbitrário e autoritário, mas apenas codificação e registro do direito que a respeito desses escritos havia muito já existia nas igrejas: o cânon não foi produzido pelos homens num único ato, como dizem, mas pouco a pouco por Deus, que rege os ânimos e os tempos. Na disputa de Harnack e Zahn sobre a história do cânon, Harnack põe ênfase demasiado unilateral no estabelecimento formal do dogma da Escritura neotestamentária; muito antes que isso ocorresse, os escritos do Novo Testamento haviam chegado, pela autoridade dos apóstolos e pela leitura pública na igreja, a autoridade geralmente reconhecida — é para esse processo interno que Zahn com muita razão chama a atenção.

f) Que princípios guiaram a igreja nesse reconhecimento da canonicidade não se pode determinar com certeza. A origem apostólica não pode ter sido o fator decisivo, pois também Marcos, Lucas e Hebreus estão incluídos. Nem tem o reconhecimento seu fundamento no fato de não existirem outros escritos sobre Cristo, pois havia uma multidão incontável de escritos apócrifos e espúrios. O princípio da formação do cânon tampouco pode estar no tamanho e na importância, pois 2 e 3 João são pequeníssimas; nem no conhecimento pessoal dos escritores com os apóstolos, pois cartas de Clemente e de Barnabé não foram incluídas; nem tampouco na originalidade, pois Mateus, Marcos e Lucas, Éfeso e Colossos, Judas e 2 Pedro dependem um do outro. Nada mais se pode dizer senão que o reconhecimento desses escritos se deu por si mesmo em todas as igrejas, sem acordo algum. Com poucas exceções, os escritos do Antigo e do Novo Testamento foram, desde a sua origem, em sua totalidade, sem uma palavra de dúvida ou de protesto, aceitos como escritos santos e divinos. Não se pode indicar o lugar nem o tempo em que primeiro lhes foi atribuída autoridade. A canonicidade dos livros da Bíblia está enraizada em sua existência: têm autoridade por si mesmos, por direito próprio, porque estão aí. É o Espírito do Senhor quem guiou na escrita e quem os trouxe ao reconhecimento na igreja.

12. O resultado desta investigação sobre a doutrina da Escritura acerca de si mesma pode resumir-se assim: ela se sustenta e se apresenta como a palavra de Deus. A expressão palavra de Deus tem na Escritura significados diversos. Muitas vezes designa o poder de Deus pelo qual ele cria e sustenta todas as coisas. Depois, assim se chama a revelação especial pela qual Deus dá algo a conhecer aos profetas: no Antigo Testamento a expressão ocorre nesse sentido em quase todas as páginas; no Novo encontramo-la assim apenas em João 10,35, pois a palavra já não vem de cima e de fora aos profetas: veio a ser em Cristo e permanece. Além disso, palavra de Deus significa o conteúdo da revelação, e no Novo Testamento assim se chama o Evangelho, revelado por Deus em Cristo e proclamado pelos apóstolos. Mas de fato o Novo Testamento não vê nos livros do Antigo outra coisa senão a palavra de Deus: Deus, ou o Espírito Santo, é o auctor primarius, que na Escritura falou por meio dos profetas. A Escritura é assim chamada tanto por causa de sua origem quanto por causa de seu conteúdo; o sentido formal e o material da expressão estão nela estreitissimamente ligados. E, finalmente, o nome palavra de Deus é usado para o próprio Cristo. Ele é o Logos em sentido inteiramente único, revelador e revelação ao mesmo tempo. Todas as revelações de Deus, na natureza e na história, na criação e na recriação, sob o Antigo e sob o Novo Testamento, têm nele seu fundamento, sua unidade e seu centro. Ele é o sol, as demais palavras de Deus são os seus raios. Só há revelação de Deus porque ele é o Logos. Ele é o principium cognoscendi, em sentido geral de toda ciência, em sentido especial, como Logos encarnado, de todo conhecimento de Deus, da religião e da teologia.

D. Conceito de inspiração

13. A Sagrada Escritura em parte alguma nos oferece um dogma claramente formulado sobre a inspiração, mas dá a coisa mesma, o fato da teopneustia e todos os momentos necessários à construção do dogma. Ensina a teopneustia da Escritura no mesmo sentido e do mesmo modo, com igual clareza e igual distinção, mas também tão pouco formulada em conceitos abstratos, quanto o dogma da Trindade, da encarnação, da satisfação. Isso tem sido repetidamente negado; mas os modernos concedem hoje em geral de bom grado que Jesus e os apóstolos aceitavam a Escritura do Antigo Testamento como palavra de Deus. Rothe reconhece isso quanto aos apóstolos, mas julga que a dogmática eclesiástica não pode apelar para Jesus em favor de sua doutrina da inspiração. As declarações positivas de Jesus sobre a Escritura do Antigo Testamento, sua citação e seu uso falam demasiado alto em contrário e não são de modo algum mais livres que as dos apóstolos. Mas esse contraste que Rothe faz entre o ensino de Jesus e o dos apóstolos não eleva, e sim de fato mina, a autoridade do próprio Jesus. Pois de Jesus nada sabemos senão pelos apóstolos; quem, portanto, desacredita os apóstolos e os apresenta como testemunhas indignas de fé, contradiz imediatamente o próprio Jesus, que constituiu os seus apóstolos testemunhas inteiramente fidedignas e por seu Espírito os conduziria a toda a verdade — e a isso pertence certamente também a verdade acerca da Sagrada Escritura. O lema de volta a Cristo é enganoso e falso, se se põe em contraste com o testemunho dos apóstolos.

Muito comum é também outra antítese, feita para escapar ao autotestemunho da Escritura. A Escritura, diz-se então, pode aqui e ali ensinar a inspiração; mas, para edificar a doutrina da Escritura sobre a Escritura, é preciso levar também em conta os fatos que ela nos dá a conhecer em sua origem, formação, história, composição e conteúdo. Só é, portanto, verdadeira e boa aquela teoria da inspiração que é compatível com os fenômenos da Escritura e derivada deles mesmos. E muitas vezes se faz então parecer que o partido contrário impõe à Escritura sua opinião a priori, ao passo que se quer justamente deixar a própria Escritura falar e testemunhar de si mesma: à ortodoxia é que faltaria reverência pela Escritura, é ela que faria violência aos fatos.

Essa representação soa bem e plausível à primeira audição, mas em consideração mais próxima mostra-se insustentável. A antítese não é, em primeiro lugar, a que se dá entre uma ou outra teoria da inspiração e o autotestemunho da Escritura. A inspiração é um fato, ensinado pela própria Sagrada Escritura. Jesus e os apóstolos deram um testemunho a respeito da Escritura; a Escritura contém uma doutrina também sobre si mesma. À parte de todo desenvolvimento dogmático ou escolástico dessa doutrina, a questão é simplesmente esta: se a Escritura, nesse seu autotestemunho, merece fé ou não. Pode haver divergência sobre se a Escritura ensina de si tal teopneustia; mas, se ensina, então nisso se lhe deve também crer, tão bem quanto em suas declarações sobre Deus, Cristo e a salvação. Os assim chamados fenômenos da Escritura não podem derrubar esse autotestemunho e nem sequer podem ser convocados contra ele como parte. Pois quem faz sua doutrina da Escritura depender da investigação histórica sobre sua formação e estrutura já começa por rejeitar o autotestemunho da Sagrada Escritura e assim já não está na fé nessa Escritura; pensa poder construir a doutrina da Escritura a partir da própria investigação melhor do que derivá-la em fé da Escritura, e põe os próprios pensamentos no lugar e acima dos dela. Além disso, o autotestemunho da Escritura é claro, evidente e reconhecido como tal até pelos adversários, ao passo que a consideração dos fenômenos é resultado de prolongada investigação histórico-crítica e se transforma em toda sorte de formas conforme o ponto de vista dos críticos. Mas por esse caminho tampouco se chega a uma doutrina sobre a Escritura: a investigação histórico-crítica pode dar clara compreensão da origem, da história e da estrutura da Escritura, mas nunca conduz a um dogma de Sacra Scriptura, que só pode ser edificado sobre um testemunho da Escritura acerca de si mesma. Com esse método, portanto, não cai apenas esta ou aquela teoria sobre a inspiração, mas ela mesma como fato e testemunho da Escritura. A inspiração, se ainda se retém a palavra, torna-se então nada mais que o breve resumo do que se pensa que a Bíblia seja, e pode então estar em conflito direto com aquilo que a Bíblia mesma pretende ser. O método que se segue não é em essência outro senão aquele pelo qual a doutrina da criação, do homem, do pecado não é edificada a partir do testemunho da Escritura, mas do estudo independente desses fatos: em ambos os casos é uma correção da doutrina da Bíblia pela própria investigação científica, um fazer depender o testemunho da Escritura do juízo humano. Os fatos e fenômenos da Escritura, os resultados da investigação científica, podem servir de explicação e elucidação da doutrina da Escritura sobre si mesma, mas nunca podem anular o fato da inspiração, do qual ela testemunha. E, enquanto de um lado se afirma que só é aceitável aquela inspiração que concorda com os fenômenos da Escritura, é de outro lado princípio que os fenômenos da Escritura — não como a crítica os vê, mas como são em si mesmos — são compatíveis com o seu autotestemunho.

14. Costuma-se resumir o que a Escritura ensina de si mesma na palavra teopneustia ou inspiração. A palavra theópneustos, de 2 Timóteo 3,16, não ocorre antes e talvez tenha sido usada primeiro por Paulo. Etimologicamente pode ter sentido ativo e passivo, e ser traduzida tanto por "que respira Deus" quanto por "soprada por Deus"; mas o sentido passivo tem preferência, porque é o mais apoiado pelas passagens em que a palavra ocorre fora do Novo Testamento e é recomendado pela doutrina neotestamentária da Escritura. A palavra inspiração tem originalmente sentido muito mais amplo: gregos e romanos atribuíam a todos os que levavam a termo algo de grande e de bom um sopro ou instinto divino — nenhum grande homem jamais existiu sem algum sopro divino (Cícero) —, e quase todos os grandes homens declararam que seus mais belos pensamentos surgiam súbita e inconscientemente em sua alma e eram para eles mesmos uma surpresa. Esse fato já nos ensina que é possível uma influência de um espírito sobre outro; o modo é diverso, mas há sempre sugestão de pensamentos, inspiração em sentido mais amplo.

Ora, a Escritura nos ensina que o mundo não é independente e não existe nem vive de si mesmo, mas que o Espírito de Deus é imanente em tudo o que foi criado. A imanência de Deus é o fundamento de toda inspiração e teopneustia: o ser e a vida são insuflados em cada criatura, de momento a momento, pelo Espírito. Mais especificamente ainda, esse Espírito do Senhor é o princípio de toda compreensão e sabedoria, de modo que dele procedem todo conhecimento e arte, todo talento e gênio. Na congregação é o Espírito de regeneração e renovação, o distribuidor dos dons. Nos profetas é o Espírito da predição. E assim também, na composição da Escritura, é o Espírito da inspiração. Essa última atividade do Espírito Santo não está, portanto, por si só: está em conexão com toda a sua atividade imanente no mundo e na congregação, é a coroa e o ápice de tudo. Pressupõe uma obra do Pai, pela qual os órgãos da revelação foram muito antes preparados, desde o nascimento e mesmo antes dele — na linhagem, no ambiente, na criação, no desenvolvimento —, para aquela tarefa a que mais tarde seriam especialmente chamados. A inspiração não pode, portanto, como fazem os modernos, ser identificada com a animação heroica, poética ou religiosa; não é obra da providentia Dei generalis, não é influência do Espírito de Deus em igual medida e do mesmo modo que nos heróis e nos artistas. O Espírito na criação prepara o Espírito na recriação. Depois, na inspiração propriamente dita pressupõe-se também uma obra precedente do Filho: o dom da teopneustia só é concedido dentro do círculo da revelação; teofania, profecia e milagre precedem a inspiração propriamente dita. Há por isso verdade no pensamento de Schleiermacher de que os santos escritores estavam sob a influência do círculo santo em que viviam. Revelação e inspiração devem ser distinguidas: aquela é obra do Filho, do Logos; esta, do Espírito Santo. A inspiração não é idêntica à revelação; está enraizada nela, mas eleva-se acima dela. Por fim, a inspiração pressupõe habitualmente, ainda que nem sempre, também uma obra do próprio Espírito Santo na regeneração, na fé e na conversão: os profetas e apóstolos eram na maioria homens santos, filhos de Deus — e também esse pensamento da teologia ética contém elementos de verdade. Mas nem por isso a inspiração é idêntica à regeneração: a regeneração abrange o homem inteiro, a inspiração é uma operação na consciência; aquela santifica e renova, esta ilumina e instrui; aquela não traz consigo por si mesma a inspiração, e a inspiração é possível sem a regeneração, como em Balaão e em Caifás. A regeneração é habitus permanens, a inspiração um actus transiens. Com todas essas atividades de Deus a inspiração está, pois, na mais estreita conexão; não pode ser isolada delas. Mas também aqui se há de combater a teoria da evolução, como se o mais alto surgisse apenas por desenvolvimento imanente a partir do mais baixo. A operação do Espírito de Deus na natureza, na humanidade, na congregação, nos profetas, nos escritores bíblicos é aparentada e análoga, mas não idêntica. Há harmonia, não igualdade.

15. Em que consiste, então, a inspiração? A Escritura lança luz sobre isso quando diz repetidamente que o Senhor fala pelos profetas ou pela boca de seus profetas. A respeito de Deus usa-se a preposição que indica o agente: ele é o falante, o sujeito propriamente dito; mas os profetas são seus órgãos, e a respeito deles usa-se sempre a preposição que indica o meio, nunca a do agente. Deus, ou o Espírito Santo, é o falante propriamente dito, o auctor primarius, e os escritores são os órgãos pelos quais Deus fala, os auctores secundarii, os scriptores ou escribas. Esclarecimento adicional dá 2 Pedro 1,19-21, onde a origem da profecia não é buscada na vontade do homem, mas no impulso do Espírito de Deus: o ser levado — a mesma palavra usada do navio arrastado pelo vento — distingue-se essencialmente do ser conduzido dos filhos de Deus; os profetas são levados, impelidos pelo Espírito Santo, e consequentemente falaram. Profetas e apóstolos são portadores de Deus; é Deus quem fala neles e por eles.

Mas a própria Escritura nos leva a conceber esse falar de Deus pela boca dos profetas do modo mais orgânico possível. Há aqui distinção entre os profetas e os apóstolos, e novamente entre uns e outros mutuamente: Moisés está no topo entre os profetas, e em Isaías o impulso do Espírito tem caráter diverso do que em Ezequiel. Em todos os profetas do Antigo Testamento o impulso do Espírito é mais ou menos transcendente: vem de cima e de fora até eles, cai sobre eles e opera momentaneamente. Nos apóstolos, ao contrário, o Espírito Santo habita imanentemente nos corações, conduz e impele, ilumina e instrui. Há, pois, diferença grande também no caráter orgânico da inspiração.

E, contudo, toda a Escritura nos manda pensar a inspiração não mecânica, mas organicamente. Não, porém, porque uma inspiração mecânica fosse em si impossível e ilícita e em conflito com a dignidade do homem: se não é indigno de uma criança crer nos pais por autoridade, que haveria de indigno para o homem em estar em tal relação com o Senhor seu Deus? Mas Deus não tomou esse caminho: desceu ao homem na revelação e na inspiração e associou-se às peculiaridades e mesmo às fraquezas de sua natureza humana. Também isso foi uma graça da encarnação. Assim como o Logos não subjugou um homem para unir-se a ele, mas entrou na natureza humana e a preparou e formou ele mesmo pelo Espírito, assim também agiu o Espírito do Senhor na inspiração. Entrou nos próprios profetas e apóstolos e assim os tomou a seu serviço, fazendo que eles mesmos investigassem e pensassem, falassem e escrevessem. É ele quem fala por meio deles; mas são eles mesmos, ao mesmo tempo, que falam e escrevem. Eram levados pelo Espírito, mas eles mesmos falavam. Por isso a Escritura do Antigo Testamento é no Novo citada tanto com o auctor primarius quanto, e não menos vezes, com os auctores secundarii — Moisés, Davi, Isaías.

Os momentos da inspiração não devem ser considerados cada um por si, mas estão em conexão com tudo o que precede: os profetas e apóstolos são desde a juventude preparados e capacitados para sua tarefa; seu caráter, natureza, inclinação, intelecto e formação não são suprimidos, mas, já formados pelo Espírito do Senhor, são agora também tomados e usados a serviço por esse mesmo Espírito; toda a sua pessoa, com todos os dons e forças, é feita serviçal à vocação a que são chamados. Investigação, reflexão e lembrança, uso de fontes, não são portanto excluídos pela inspiração, mas nela incluídos. Quase todos os livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento são por isso, em certo sentido, também escritos de ocasião. A vocação de profeta e de apóstolo incluía de si mesma e naturalmente falar e testemunhar, mas não escrever — pois muitos profetas e apóstolos não escreveram. Mas o Espírito Santo guiou de tal modo a história da igreja sob Israel e no Novo Testamento, que o ato tinha de passar à palavra e a palavra à escrita. Dessa direção nasceu, nos profetas e apóstolos, a vocação de escrever, o impulsus ad scribendum. E o escrever é o testemunho mais alto, mais poderoso e mais geral, que não se esvai ao sopro do vento, mas permanece para sempre. E precisamente porque os escritos dos profetas e apóstolos não surgiram fora da história, mas dentro dela e a partir dela, há na teologia uma ciência que investiga e dá a conhecer todas as ocasiões e circunstâncias em que os livros bíblicos surgiram.

Quando, pois, os profetas e apóstolos testemunham por escrito, conservam também o seu próprio caráter, a sua própria língua e o seu próprio estilo. Em todos os tempos essa diferença nos livros da Bíblia foi reconhecida, mas nem sempre satisfatoriamente explicada. Não se explica pelo fato de o Espírito Santo, por mero arbítrio, ter querido escrever ora assim ora assado; mas, entrando nos escritores, ele entrou também em seu estilo e em sua língua, em seu caráter e em sua peculiaridade, que ele mesmo já havia preparado e formado. A isso pertence também que ele escolha no Antigo Testamento o hebraico e no Novo o grego helenístico como veículo dos pensamentos divinos. Também nisso não houve arbítrio. Medido pelo grego de Platão e de Demóstenes, o Novo Testamento está cheio de barbarismos e solecismos; mas o casamento que no grego helenístico se concluiu entre o hebraico puro e o ático puro, entre o espírito oriental e o ocidental, foi no domínio da linguagem a realização do pensamento divino de que a salvação vem dos judeus, mas se destina a toda a humanidade. A língua do Novo Testamento não é a mais bela gramatical e linguisticamente considerada, mas é a mais apropriada para a comunicação dos pensamentos de Deus. Também nesse respeito a palavra tornou-se verdadeira e universalmente humana.

E, finalmente, quando os profetas e apóstolos escreveram, mais de uma vez sua própria experiência e sua própria história forneceram o material do que escreviam: nos salmos é o cantor piedoso que alternadamente lamenta e exulta, e por toda a Escritura são repetidamente as pessoas dos escritores, cuja vida e experiência, cuja fé e confiança, cuja queixa e miséria são descritas e retratadas. Essa vida rica, essa experiência profunda foi de tal modo formada e conduzida pelo Espírito do Senhor que, acolhida na Escritura, servisse de instrução às gerações seguintes, para que pela paciência e consolação das Escrituras tivéssemos esperança.

Só a inspiração orgânica faz justiça à Escritura. Ela é, na doutrina da Escritura, o efeito e a aplicação do fato central da revelação, a encarnação do Verbo. O Logos se fez carne, e a palavra se fez Escritura: dois fatos que não apenas correm paralelos, mas estão intimamente conexos. Cristo se fez carne, servo, sem forma nem glória, o mais desprezado entre os homens; desceu às partes mais baixas da terra, fez-se obediente até à morte de cruz. E assim também a palavra, a revelação de Deus, entrou no criatural, na vida e na história dos homens e dos povos, em todas as formas humanas do sonho e da visão, da investigação e da reflexão, até ao humanamente fraco, desprezado e ignóbil; a palavra se fez escrita, e como escrita submeteu-se à sorte de toda escrita. Tudo isso aconteceu para que a excelência do poder, também do poder da Escritura, seja de Deus e não de nós. Assim como todo pensamento e toda ação humana são fruto inteiramente da ação de Deus, em quem vivemos e somos, e ao mesmo tempo inteiramente fruto da atividade do homem, assim também a Escritura é produto inteira e completamente do Espírito de Deus, que fala pelos profetas e apóstolos, e ao mesmo tempo inteiramente produto da atividade dos escritores. Tudo divino e tudo humano.

16. Essa visão orgânica foi, contudo, repetidamente usada justamente para diminuir o primeiro ponto, a autoria do Espírito Santo. A encarnação de Cristo exige que se a acompanhe até o fundo de sua humilhação, em toda a sua fraqueza e vergonha; a descrição da palavra, da revelação, convida-nos a reconhecer também na Escritura esse elemento fraco e humilde, essa forma de servo. Mas, assim como o humano em Cristo, por fraco e humilde que fosse, permaneceu livre do pecaminoso, assim também a Escritura foi concebida sem mácula. Humana inteiramente e em todas as suas partes, mas igualmente divina em tudo.

De muitos modos, porém, esse caráter divino da Escritura tem sido diminuído. A história da inspiração ensina-nos que ela foi primeiro, até o século XVII, estendida cada vez mais longe, até às vogais e aos pontos (inspiratio punctualis), e em seguida cada vez mais contraída e limitada: dos pontos às palavras (inspiratio verbalis); das palavras isoladas à palavra como pensamento; do pensamento às coisas (inspiratio realis); das coisas ao conteúdo religioso-ético, ao que em sentido próprio foi revelado, ao objeto especial da fé salvadora (inspiratio fundamentalis); destas coisas de novo às pessoas (inspiratio personalis); e destas, finalmente, à negação de toda inspiração como dom sobrenatural.

Ora, é gratificante que mesmo a direção mais negativa queira ainda assegurar à Escritura um lugar na vida e no pensamento religiosos da cristandade. A doutrina da Sagrada Escritura não é opinião desta ou daquela escola, nem dogma de uma igreja ou seita particular, mas um articulus fundamentalis, artigo de fé da una, santa e católica igreja cristã. Sua conexão indissolúvel com a fé e a vida cristãs é reconhecida cada vez melhor, e depois de por algum tempo ser tratada na dogmática entre os meios de graça, ela recuperou com honra o seu lugar na introdução à dogmática. A congregação continua, pela pregação e pelo ensino, pela leitura e pela investigação, a viver da Escritura e a nutrir-se dela; mesmo quem em teoria nega a inspiração fala e age na prática da vida muitas vezes como se plenamente a aceitasse. E o radicalismo chega cada vez mais ao reconhecimento de que a inspiração da Escritura é ensinada pela própria Escritura e deve ser aceita ou rejeitada com ela.

Tudo isso mostra que a vida é mais forte que a doutrina e que a Escritura mesma reage sempre de novo contra toda explicação naturalista. Ela mesma reivindica ter procedido do Espírito de Deus e mantém essa reivindicação contra toda crítica. Toda tentativa de despojá-la do caráter misterioso de sua origem, de seu conteúdo e de seu poder acabou até agora por abandoná-la e deixar a Escritura ser Escritura. Uma inspiração não é, portanto, explicação da Escritura, e assim propriamente tampouco é uma teoria; é e deve ser uma confissão crente do que a Escritura testemunha de si mesma, a despeito da aparência que está contra ela. A inspiração é um dogma como a Trindade e a encarnação, que o cristão aceita não porque veja sua verdade, mas porque Deus assim o testemunha. Não é pronunciamento científico, mas confissão de fé. Com a inspiração, como com todo outro dogma, a questão não é em primeiro lugar: quanto posso e devo confessar sem entrar em conflito com a ciência? — mas: qual é o testemunho de Deus e qual é, portanto, o pronunciamento da fé cristã? E então só uma resposta é possível: que a Escritura se apresenta como palavra de Deus e que a igreja de Deus em todos os tempos a reconheceu como tal.

Com esse caráter dogmático e religioso da doutrina da inspiração estão em conflito a inspiratio personalis e a fundamentalis. Há também nessas concepções um bom pensamento: foram certamente as pessoas que, com todos os seus dons e forças, foram tomadas a serviço na inspiração pelo Espírito Santo, e essas pessoas eram homens santos, apropriadamente equipados para essa obra; e há também sem dúvida na Escritura distinção entre partes mais e menos importantes. Mas ambas as representações enfraquecem o testemunho que a Escritura dá de si mesma e não nascem da plenitude da fé, mas de transação com a ciência. Além disso, a inspiratio personalis esbarra ainda nestas objeções: apaga a distinção entre inspiração e iluminação, entre a vida intelectual e a ética, entre o ser levado dos profetas e o ser conduzido dos filhos de Deus, entre a Sagrada Escritura e a leitura edificante. Ademais, inverte com Roma a relação entre Escritura e igreja, priva a congregação da firmeza de que necessita e a faz dependente da ciência, que teria de decidir o que na Escritura é ou não é palavra de Deus. Muitos defensores dessa teoria tentam escapar a essas objeções apelando para a pessoa de Cristo como fonte e autoridade da dogmática; mas isso não ajuda, pois é justamente sobre quem Cristo é e o que ensinou e fez que há divergência. Se o testemunho apostólico acerca de Cristo não é fidedigno, nenhum conhecimento de Cristo é possível. Acresce que, se Cristo é autoridade, é-o também na doutrina acerca da Escritura: a teoria mencionada entra em conflito com a autoridade do próprio Cristo. A inspiratio fundamentalis difere da personalis em que ainda admite uma atividade especial do Espírito no escrever, mas apenas em algumas partes da Escritura. Essa representação é, porém, tão deísta e dualista que já por isso é inaceitável; e, além disso, palavra e fato, o religioso e o histórico, o que na Escritura é falado por Deus e o que é falado pelos homens estão de tal modo entretecidos que a separação é impossível — também a história na Escritura é revelação de Deus. E, finalmente, essas duas teorias não respondem às objeções que a ciência levanta contra a Escritura e sua inspiração, pois estas de modo algum se referem apenas a alguns pontos subordinados na periferia da revelação, mas tocam o seu próprio coração e centro. A inspiratio personalis e a fundamentalis não são de modo algum mais científicas e mais racionais que a mais estrita inspiratio verbalis.

As demais teorias — inspiratio punctualis, verbalis, realis — pouco diferem entre si. A atividade do Espírito Santo no escrever consistiu em que, depois de ter preparado de toda maneira a consciência humana dos scriptores — pelo nascimento, pela criação, pelos dons naturais, pela investigação, pela lembrança, pela reflexão, pela experiência de vida, pela revelação —, ele agora, no e sob e com o próprio escrever, fez surgir nessa consciência aqueles pensamentos e palavras, aquela língua e aquele estilo que podiam interpretar do melhor modo o pensamento divino para homens de toda condição, povo e século. Nos pensamentos estão incluídas as palavras, e nas palavras as vogais. Mas daí não se segue que os sinais vocálicos de nossos manuscritos hebraicos provenham dos próprios escritores; nem se segue que cada iota e cada til tenham conteúdo infinito. Tudo tem certamente o seu sentido e o seu significado, mas ali, naquele lugar e no contexto em que ocorre. A Escritura não pode ser considerada atomisticamente, como se cada palavra e cada letra, separadamente em si e isoladas, tivessem sido inspiradas por Deus com intenção própria e conteúdo próprio e assim divino e infinito: isso leva às regras hermenêuticas absurdas dos escribas judeus e não honra, mas desonra a Sagrada Escritura. Organicamente, porém, deve a inspiração ser concebida, de sorte que também o menor tenha seu lugar e seu sentido e ao mesmo tempo esteja a distância muito maior do centro que outras partes. Também na Escritura nem tudo está igualmente perto do centro; há uma periferia que se move largamente em torno do ponto médio, mas também ela pertence ao círculo dos pensamentos de Deus. Espécies e graus na inspiração mesma, portanto, não há: o cabelo da cabeça participa da mesma vida que o coração e a mão. É uma só alma, que está toda no corpo todo e em todas as suas partes. É um só Espírito, do qual toda a Escritura procedeu por meio da consciência dos escritores. Mas há de fato diferença no modo como a mesma vida é imanente e ativa nas diferentes partes do corpo. Há diversidade de dons, também na Escritura, mas o Espírito é o mesmo.

E. Objeções contra a inspiração

17. Contra essa inspiração da Escritura levantam-se muitas e gravíssimas objeções. São derivadas da crítica histórica, que contesta a autenticidade e a credibilidade de muitos livros da Bíblia; das contradições internas, que repetidamente ocorrem na Escritura; do modo como o Antigo Testamento é citado e explicado no Novo; da história profana, com que as narrativas da Escritura muitas vezes não se deixam conciliar; da natureza, que tanto em sua origem quanto em sua existência contradiz a Escritura com sua criação e seus milagres; da religião e da moral, que muitas vezes emitem juízo reprovador sobre a fé e a vida das pessoas da Bíblia; e da forma presente da Escritura, que, como mostra a crítica textual, se perdeu em seus autógrafos, é corrompida em suas cópias e defeituosa em suas traduções. É tentativa vã explicar essas objeções e agir como se não existissem.

Mas em primeiro lugar é preciso chamar a atenção para o significado ético da luta que em todos os séculos se travou contra a Escritura. Se a Escritura é a palavra de Deus, essa luta não é acidental, mas necessária e também perfeitamente explicável. Porque é a descrição da revelação de Deus em Cristo, deve provocar a mesma resistência que o próprio Cristo. Ele veio ao mundo para um juízo e foi posto para queda e para levantamento de muitos; traz separação entre a luz e as trevas e torna manifestos os pensamentos de muitos corações. E do mesmo modo a Escritura é palavra viva e poderosa, juiz dos pensamentos e das intenções do coração. Ela não só foi inspirada; ela ainda é teopneusta. O Espírito Santo não se retira da Sagrada Escritura depois do ato da inspiração, nem a abandona à sua sorte, mas a sustenta e a anima, e leva o seu conteúdo, de toda maneira, à humanidade, ao seu coração e à sua consciência. Pela Escritura como palavra de Deus o Espírito Santo trava luta contínua contra os pensamentos e as intenções do homem natural. Em si, portanto, não há de causar a menor admiração que a Escritura tenha em todos os tempos encontrado contradição e oposição. Cristo carregou uma cruz, e o servo não é maior que o seu senhor. A Escritura é a serva de Cristo; participa do seu opróbrio; provoca a inimizade do homem pecador.

Daí, contudo, nem toda oposição à Escritura se explica; mas também os ataques a que ela está exposta neste século não devem ser considerados em si mesmos: eles se ligam sem dúvida a toda a direção de espírito deste século. Sobre pessoas e intenções não nos cabe julgar; mas seria superficial afirmar que a luta contra a Escritura neste século foi governada por motivos inteiramente outros e muito mais puros que nos séculos anteriores, como se agora somente a cabeça falasse e o coração ficasse de todo de fora. Todo crente tem a experiência de que, nos melhores momentos de sua vida, é também quando está mais firme na fé na Escritura; sua confiança na Escritura cresce com sua fé em Cristo, e inversamente a ignorância das Escrituras é, por si e na mesma medida, ignorância de Cristo (Jerônimo). A conexão entre pecado e erro jaz muitas vezes bem abaixo da superfície da vida consciente; em outrem quase nunca se pode apontá-la, mas às vezes ela se descobre ao próprio olho da alma. A luta contra a Escritura é em primeiro lugar uma revelação da inimizade do coração humano. Mas essa inimizade pode exprimir-se de modos diversos, e de modo algum vem à tona somente na crítica a que a Escritura é submetida em nosso tempo: nos dias da ortodoxia morta a incredulidade quanto à Escritura era em princípio tão poderosa quanto em nosso século histórico e crítico. As formas mudam, a essência permanece uma. Pois não os ouvintes, mas os que praticam a palavra são declarados bem-aventurados.

Por isso permanece dever de todo homem, antes de tudo, depor essa inimizade contra a palavra de Deus e levar cativo todo pensamento à obediência de Cristo. A própria Escritura em toda parte comparece com essa exigência: só os puros de coração verão a Deus; a regeneração faz ver o reino de Deus; a abnegação é a condição para ser discípulo de Jesus; a sabedoria do mundo é loucura diante de Deus. A Escritura assume diante de todo homem posição tão elevada que, em vez de submeter-se à sua crítica, antes o julga em todos os seus pensamentos e desejos. E esse foi em todos os tempos o ponto de vista da igreja cristã diante da Escritura. Se me perguntares sobre os preceitos da religião cristã, disse Agostinho, apraz-me responder sempre, em primeiro, em segundo e em terceiro lugar: a humildade.

Assim a igreja se pôs diante da Escritura em todos os tempos, e o dogmático cristão não pode assumir outra posição. Pois um dogma não repousa sobre os resultados de nenhuma investigação histórico-crítica, mas somente sobre o testemunho de Deus, sobre o autotestemunho da Sagrada Escritura. O cristão não crê porque tudo revele o amor de Deus, mas apesar de tudo o que desperta dúvida. Também na Escritura permanece muito que desperta dúvida, e todos os crentes sabem falar disso por experiência. Os homens da crítica da Escritura apresentam muitas vezes a coisa como se a congregação simples nada soubesse das objeções levantadas contra a Escritura e nada sentisse da dificuldade de continuar a crer nela. Mas essa é uma representação impura. Certamente os cristãos simples não conhecem os obstáculos que a erudição põe no caminho da fé na Escritura; mas conhecem, em maior ou menor medida, a luta que se trava na cabeça e no coração contra a Escritura. Não há um único crente que não tenha, ao seu modo, aprendido a conhecer a antítese entre a sabedoria do mundo e a loucura de Deus. É uma só e a mesma luta, sempre continuada, que deve ser travada por todos os cristãos, doutos ou indoutos, para manter os pensamentos cativos sob a obediência de Cristo. Ninguém vence essa luta aqui na terra. Sobre toda a herança da fé permanecem cruzes que devem ser superadas. Não há fé sem luta: crer é lutar, lutar contra a aparência das coisas. Enquanto alguém ainda crê alguma coisa, sua fé é contestada de todos os lados; nem o crente moderno está livre disso — as concessões apenas enfraquecem, não libertam.

Restam, pois, objeções bastantes também para quem se submete infantilmente à Escritura. Não é preciso encobri-las. Há na Escritura cruzes que não se deixam explicar e que provavelmente também nunca serão resolvidas. Mas essas dificuldades em grande parte não foram descobertas de novo neste século: foram notadas em todos os tempos, e não obstante Jesus e os apóstolos, Agostinho, Tomás, Lutero e Calvino, todos os cristãos de todas as igrejas e de todos os séculos confessaram e reconheceram a Escritura como palavra de Deus. Quem quiser esperar com a fé na Escritura até que todas as objeções tenham sido removidas e todas as contradições conciliadas, nunca chega à fé. Ademais, objeções e dificuldades existem em toda ciência. Quem não quer começar crendo, nunca chega a saber. A teoria do conhecimento é o princípio da filosofia — e é mistério do começo ao fim. Quem não quiser passar à investigação científica antes de ver pavimentado o caminho pelo qual chegamos ao conhecimento, nunca a começa; e quem não quiser crer na palavra de Deus antes de ver resolvidas todas as dificuldades, perece de penúria espiritual. A natureza, a história e toda ciência oferecem tantas cruzes quanto a Sagrada Escritura: a natureza contém tantos enigmas que muitas vezes nos pode fazer duvidar da existência de um Deus sábio e justo, e o destino dos povos incivilizados é na história da humanidade uma cruz tão grande e tão difícil quanto a composição do Pentateuco e dos sinóticos. Quem, por isso, duvida de que Deus escreva também esse livro da natureza e da história com sua mão onipotente? Naturalmente pode-se aqui, como também com a Escritura, atirar-se nos braços do agnosticismo e do pessimismo. Mas o desespero é um salto mortal também no domínio científico. Com a incredulidade os mistérios do ser não diminuem, mas aumentam. E o descontentamento do coração torna-se maior.

18. Mas, além disso, a concepção orgânica da inspiração oferece muitos meios para responder às objeções levantadas contra ela. Pois implica que o Espírito Santo, ao escrever a palavra de Deus, nada de humano desdenhou para servir de órgão do divino. A revelação de Deus não é abstratamente sobrenatural, mas entrou no humano, em pessoas e circunstâncias, em formas e costumes, na história e na vida. Não permanece pairando muito acima de nós, mas desceu à nossa condição; é carne e sangue e se fez semelhante a nós em todas as coisas, exceto no pecado. Constitui agora componente inextirpável deste cosmo em que vivemos e nele continua sua operação renovadora e restauradora. O humano tornou-se órgão do divino, o natural revelação do sobrenatural, o visível sinal e selo do invisível.

Na inspiração fez-se uso de todos os dons e forças que jazem na natureza humana. Com isso, em primeiro lugar, é inteiramente explicável a diferença de língua e estilo, de caráter e individualidade que se nota nos livros da Bíblia. Antes essa diferença era explicada pela vontade do Espírito Santo, e faltava consideração mais profunda; com a inspiração orgânica ela é inteiramente natural. Também o uso de fontes, a familiaridade dos escritores com escritos anteriores, a investigação pessoal, a memória, a reflexão e a experiência de vida não são excluídos pela concepção orgânica, mas nela incluídos. O próprio Espírito Santo preparou desse modo os seus scriptores: não desceu sobre eles de uma vez do alto, mas usou toda a sua personalidade como instrumento. Também aqui vale a palavra: a graça não suprime, mas aperfeiçoa a natureza. A personalidade dos escritores não foi apagada, mas mantida e santificada. A inspiração de modo algum exige, portanto, que igualemos literária ou esteticamente o estilo de Amós ao de Isaías, ou que neguemos todo barbarismo e solecismo na língua do Novo Testamento.

Em segundo lugar, a concepção orgânica da revelação e da inspiração traz consigo que a vida humana comum e natural não seja excluída, mas também posta a serviço dos pensamentos de Deus. A Escritura é a palavra de Deus: não a contém apenas, ela o é. Mas nessa expressão o elemento formal e o material não podem ser separados um do outro. A inspiração sozinha e por si mesma ainda não faria de um escrito a palavra de Deus no sentido escriturístico: ainda que um livro de geografia fosse inteiramente inspirado e ditado palavra por palavra, nem por isso seria teopneusto no sentido de 2 Timóteo 3,16. A Escritura é a palavra de Deus porque o Espírito Santo nela testemunha de Cristo, porque tem o Logos encarnado por assunto e conteúdo. Forma e conteúdo penetram-se e não se deixam separar. Mas, para nos retratar essa imagem de Cristo em corpo inteiro diante dos olhos, é necessário que também o pecado humano e a mentira satânica sejam pintados em todo o seu horror: na pintura a sombra é necessária para fazer a luz sobressair mais claramente. O pecado deve ser chamado pecado também nos santos da Bíblia, e o erro tampouco pode neles ser desculpado. E, assim como a revelação de Deus em Cristo assume em si a injustiça como antítese, tampouco desdenha o humanamente fraco e natural. Cristo nada de humano considerou estranho a si, e a Escritura tampouco esquece os menores cuidados da vida diária. O cristão não se opõe antiteticamente ao humano: é a sua restauração e renovação.

Em terceiro lugar, com o conteúdo está estreitissimamente ligada a intenção e a destinação da Escritura. Tudo o que dantes foi escrito, para nosso ensino foi escrito; serve para nos fazer sábios para a salvação. A Sagrada Escritura tem destinação inteiramente religioso-ética. Não quer ser um manual para as diversas ciências. É principium somente da teologia e exige que a leiamos e a investiguemos teologicamente. Quem, porém, quiser derivar da Escritura uma história de Israel, uma biografia de Jesus, uma história da literatura israelita ou paleocristã, vê-se repetidamente desapontado: há então lacunas que só se deixam preencher por conjecturas. A crítica histórica esqueceu inteiramente essa destinação da Escritura: tenta produzir uma história do povo, da religião e da literatura de Israel e vem a priori com exigências que a Escritura não pode satisfazer; esbarra em contradições que não se deixam resolver, peneira fontes e livros sem fim, com o único resultado de que surge uma confusão desesperada. Dos quatro Evangelhos não se pode construir uma vida de Jesus, nem do Antigo Testamento uma história de Israel: o Espírito Santo não teve isso em vista. A inspiração não foi um registro notarial. A um conhecimento exato como o que exigimos na matemática, na astronomia e na química a Escritura não corresponde, e tal padrão não lhe pode ser aplicado. Por isso também os autógrafos se perderam; por isso o texto, ainda que em grau mínimo, é corrompido; por isso a congregação só possui a Escritura em tradução imperfeita e falível. São fatos que não se podem negar. E eles nos ensinam que a Escritura tem seu próprio padrão, é intérprete de si mesma e tem sua própria destinação. E essa destinação não é outra senão nos fazer sábios para a salvação. O Antigo Testamento não é fonte para uma história do povo e da religião de Israel, mas o é para uma historia revelationis; os Evangelhos não são fonte para uma vida de Jesus, mas o são para o conhecimento dogmático de sua pessoa e de sua obra. A Escritura é o livro para a religião cristã e para a teologia cristã. Para isso foi dada, para isso é apta, e por isso é a palavra de Deus, concedida a nós pelo Espírito Santo.

19. Daqui se torna finalmente clara a relação em que a Escritura está para com as demais ciências. Muito se abusou da palavra de Baronius: a Escritura não diz como vai o céu, mas como se vai ao céu. Precisamente como livro do conhecimento de Deus a Escritura tem muito a dizer também às demais ciências. É luz para o caminho e lâmpada para os pés, também da ciência e da arte. Reivindica autoridade em todo domínio da vida, pois Cristo tem todo o poder no céu e na terra. Objetivamente, a limitação da inspiração à parte religioso-ética da Escritura é insustentável; e subjetivamente, a separação entre o religioso e o restante da vida do homem não se pode manter. A inspiração estende-se a todas as partes da Escritura, e a religião é assunto do homem inteiro. Muitíssimo do que se menciona na Escritura tem também significado principial para as demais ciências: a criação e a queda do homem, a unidade do gênero humano, a origem dos povos e das línguas são fatos da mais alta importância também para elas. A cada momento a ciência e a arte entram em contato com a Escritura; os principia para o todo da vida são dados na Escritura. Nada disso pode ser diminuído.

Mas, por outro lado, há também grande verdade na palavra do cardeal Baronius. Todos esses fatos são comunicados na Escritura não em si e por si, mas com um propósito teológico, para que conheçamos Deus para a salvação. A Escritura nunca se ocupa intencionalmente da ciência como tal. O próprio Cristo, embora livre de todo erro e pecado, nunca se moveu em sentido estrito no domínio da ciência e da arte, do comércio e da indústria, da jurisprudência e da política; a sua grandeza era outra: a glória do Unigênito do Pai, cheio de graça e de verdade. Mas precisamente por isso foi bênção também para a ciência e a arte, para a sociedade e o Estado. Jesus é Salvador, isso somente, mas isso também inteiramente. Não veio apenas restaurar a vida religioso-ética do homem e deixar todo o resto intocado, como se este não estivesse corrompido pelo pecado e não precisasse de restauração. Não: até onde chega o pecado, chega também a graça de Cristo. E assim é com a Escritura. Também ela é de ponta a ponta religiosa, palavra de Deus para a salvação — e justamente por isso é também palavra para a família e a sociedade, para a ciência e a arte. A Escritura é um livro para toda a humanidade, em todas as suas condições e estados, em todas as suas gerações e povos. Mas justamente por isso não é um livro científico em sentido estrito. Nela fala a sabedoria, não a erudição. Não fala a língua exata da ciência e da escola, mas a da observação e da vida diária. Não julga nem descreve as coisas segundo os resultados da investigação científica, mas segundo a intuição, segundo a primeira impressão viva que os fenômenos causam no homem: fala por isso do nascer e do parar do sol, e ao fazê-lo não se preocupa de modo algum com a linguagem cientificamente precisa da astronomia. Fala da terra como centro da criação de Deus e não toma partido entre a visão de mundo ptolomaica e a copernicana. Os scriptores da Sagrada Escritura provavelmente nada sabiam de geologia, zoologia, fisiologia ou medicina além do que sabiam todos os seus contemporâneos. Nem era necessário. Pois a Sagrada Escritura emprega a língua da experiência diária, que é sempre verdadeira e sempre permanece. Se em lugar disso ela tivesse usado a língua da escola e falado com exatidão científica, teria posto obstáculo à sua própria autoridade: se se tivesse decidido pela visão de mundo ptolomaica, seria inacreditável numa era que honra o sistema copernicano; e tampouco poderia ter sido um livro para a vida, para a humanidade. Mas agora fala em língua universalmente humana, inteligível para o mais simples, clara para doutos e indoutos. Emprega a língua da observação, que sempre continuará a existir ao lado da língua da ciência e da escola. Por isso pode também durar até o fim dos tempos. Por isso é antiga sem jamais envelhecer. É sempre jovem e fresca; é a fala da vida. A palavra de Deus permanece para sempre.

§ 12. As propriedades da Escritura

A. As propriedades da Escritura em geral.

1. A doutrina das affectiones da Sagrada Escritura desenvolveu-se inteiramente a partir da luta contra Roma e contra o anabatismo. Quanto à inspiração e à autoridade havia acordo; no restante do locus de Sacra Scriptura havia entre Roma e a Reforma grande diferença. Entre os pais da igreja e os escolásticos a Escritura, ao menos em teoria, ainda estava muito acima da igreja e da tradição; repousava em si mesma, era autopistos — digna de fé por si — e, para a igreja e para a teologia, a norma normans. Ela não depende da igreja; ao contrário, a igreja depende dela. A igreja com a sua tradição pode ser regula fidei, mas fundamentum fidei ainda não é: isso é a Escritura sozinha.

Mas a igreja, com o seu ofício e a sua tradição, começou em Roma a assumir posição independente e a adquirir autoridade ao lado da Escritura, e, à medida que crescia em poder e autossuficiência, a autoridade foi cada vez mais transferida da Escritura para a igreja. A pergunta sobre qual das duas tinha precedência foi posta clara e conscientemente pela primeira vez no tempo dos concílios reformadores e, apesar da contradição de Gerson e de Nicolau de Clémanges, decidiu-se em favor da igreja. Trento sancionou isso contra a Reforma, e no Vaticano de 1870 resolveu-se de tal modo que a igreja foi declarada infalível. O sujeito dessa infalibilidade não é a ecclesia audiens, nem a ecclesia docens, nem os bispos reunidos em concílio, mas especificamente o papa — não como pessoa privada nem como bispo de Roma, mas como Supremo Pastor de toda a igreja. Ele a possui como cabeça da igreja e não à parte dela; mas não a possui por meio dela e com ela, e sim acima dela e em distinção dela. Concílios sem o papa podem errar e erraram; toda a igreja, tanto a que ensina quanto a que ouve, só é infalível una cum et sub Romano pontifice. Com isso toda a relação entre igreja e Escritura fica invertida: a igreja, ou mais concretamente o papa, precede a Escritura e está acima dela. Ubi papa, ibi ecclesia. A infalibilidade do papa torna desnecessária a da igreja, a dos bispos e concílios e igualmente a da Escritura.

2. Dessa concepção romana da relação entre Escritura e igreja procedem todas as diferenças que na doutrina da Escritura existem entre Roma e a Reforma: a necessidade da Escritura, os apócrifos, a editio Vulgata, a proibição da Bíblia, a interpretação e a tradição. Formalmente, a inversão aparece com máxima clareza no fato de que os teólogos romanos mais recentes tratam a doutrina da igreja na pars formalis da dogmática. A igreja pertence aos principia fidei. Como a Escritura na Reforma, assim a igreja, o magistério, ou propriamente o papa, é o princípio formal, o fundamentum fidei no romanismo.

Contra isso os reformadores puseram a doutrina das propriedades da Escritura. Ela trazia caráter inteiramente polêmico, e justamente por isso já estava, no essencial, fixada desde o início. O número e a divisão das propriedades foram por muito tempo indicados desigualmente, e a dogmática tomava em si quase toda a "Introdução"; pouco a pouco veio maior delimitação da matéria. Mas ainda assim há simplificação a fazer. O material histórico, crítico e arqueológico não pertence à dogmática, mas às disciplinas bibliológicas da teologia. A veritas, depois da inspiração e da autoridade, já não precisa de argumento separado, e com ele seria antes enfraquecida do que fortalecida. A efficacia encontra o seu lugar na doutrina dos media gratiae. Restam assim apenas a auctoritas, a necessitas, a perfectio e a perspicuitas. E entre essas há ainda a distinção de que a auctoritas não é uma propriedade coordenada com as outras, pois está dada por si mesma com a inspiração; a necessidade, a perspicuidade e a suficiência, ao contrário, não decorrem da inspiração no mesmo sentido: é concebível que uma Escritura infalível tivesse de ser suplementada e explicada por uma tradição infalível. Roma reconhece de fato a autoridade da Escritura, mas nega as suas demais propriedades.

B. A autoridade da Escritura.

3. A autoridade da Escritura foi em todos os tempos reconhecida na igreja cristã. Jesus e os apóstolos criam no Antigo Testamento como palavra de Deus; a igreja cristã nasceu e cresceu sob a autoridade da Escritura. O que os apóstolos escreveram deve ser aceito como se o próprio Cristo o tivesse escrito, diz Agostinho. Em contrapartida, entre Roma e a Reforma surgiu séria diferença acerca do fundamento sobre o qual essa autoridade repousa.

A igreja, assim reza hoje a doutrina romana geral, precede a Escritura temporal e logicamente. Não deve à Escritura a sua origem, a sua existência e a sua autoridade, mas existe em si e por si, isto é, por Cristo, ou pelo Espírito Santo que nela habita. A Escritura, ao contrário, procedeu justamente da igreja e é agora por ela reconhecida, confirmada, conservada, interpretada, defendida. Sem igreja não há Escritura; sem Escritura há, contudo, igreja. De fato, em Roma a autenticidade, a integridade, a inspiração, a canonicidade e a autoridade da Escritura são determinadas pela igreja. Faz-se então a distinção de que a Escritura não depende da igreja quoad se, mas quoad nos: a igreja não torna a Escritura inspirada e canônica pelo seu reconhecimento, mas é a única que pode conhecer essas propriedades de modo infalível. Pois o autotestemunho da Escritura não estabelece que precisamente estes livros, e nenhum outro e nem menos, sejam inspirados; em parte alguma dá a Escritura um catálogo dos livros que lhe pertencem; e apelar à própria Escritura pela inspiração da Escritura é sempre ainda uma prova em círculo. As provas tiradas dos pais da igreja têm grande valor como motiva credibilitatis, mas dão apenas probabilidade, certeza humana e portanto falível. Só a igreja dá certeza divina e infalível — como já dizia Agostinho: eu não creria no Evangelho se a autoridade da igreja católica não me movesse a isso.

4. Contra essa doutrina romana a Reforma pôs a autopistia da Escritura. Nessa diferença, a questão não era se a igreja não tinha um chamado a cumprir para com a Escritura. Concedia-se em geral que ela é de grande significado: o seu testemunho é de grande peso e um motivum credibilitatis, e para todo ser humano a igreja é o guia até a Escritura. Nesse sentido a palavra de Agostinho é e permanece verdadeira: ele foi movido pela igreja a crer na Escritura. Mas há diferença entre motivo e fundamento último da fé. A igreja, com a sua dignidade e o seu poder, sempre causou profunda impressão em Agostinho, moveu-o à fé e o conduziu de novo à Escritura; mas com isso ele não quer dizer que a autoridade da Escritura dependa da igreja. Em outro lugar diz claramente que a Sagrada Escritura tem autoridade por si mesma e deve ser crida por causa de si mesma.

A igreja tem e conserva para todo crente um rico e profundo significado pedagógico. Mas isso é coisa bem diversa de a autoridade da Escritura depender dela. Roma sequer ousa dizê-lo abertamente: o próprio Concílio Vaticano reconheceu os livros do Antigo e do Novo Testamento como canônicos também por terem sido escritos sob inspiração do Espírito Santo e terem a Deus por autor. E a distinção entre quoad se e quoad nos não pode valer aqui. Pois, se a igreja é o último e mais profundo fundamento por que creio na Escritura, então é essa igreja, e não a Escritura, que é autopistos. E das duas uma: ou a Escritura contém um testemunho, uma doutrina acerca de si mesma, da sua inspiração e da sua autoridade, e então a igreja nada faz senão aceitar e confirmar esse testemunho; ou a Escritura não ensina tal inspiração e autoridade, e então o dogma da igreja acerca da Escritura está julgado para o protestante. Se, ao contrário, a autoridade quoad se depende da própria Escritura, então ela é também quoad nos o fundamento último da nossa fé. A igreja só pode reconhecer o que é; não pode fazer o que não é. A acusação de que assim se raciocina em círculo pode ser devolvida a Roma, que prova a igreja com a Escritura e a Escritura com a igreja. Mas muito mais significativo é que em todo campo da ciência, e portanto também na teologia, os principia se firmam por si mesmos. A verdade de um principium não pode ser demonstrada, apenas reconhecida. Principium creditur propter se, non propter aliud: do princípio não se pode ter nem se deve buscar um princípio.

A própria Escritura ensina, portanto, com clareza, que não a igreja, mas a palavra de Deus, escrita ou não escrita, é autopistos. A igreja em todos os tempos esteve ligada a essa palavra, na medida e na forma em que ela existia. A palavra de Deus é o fundamento da igreja, Ef 2.20. A igreja pode testemunhar a palavra, mas a palavra está acima dela. Ela não pode dar a ninguém, no coração, fé na palavra de Deus: isso só a palavra de Deus o pode, por si mesma e pelo poder do Espírito Santo, Hb 4.12; 1 Pe 1.23. A igreja e os crentes podem, pois, vir a conhecer a inspiração, a autoridade e a canonicidade da Escritura a partir dela mesma, mas nunca podem proclamá-las e estabelecê-las por autoridade própria. A Reforma preferiu alguma incerteza a uma certeza obtida apenas por decisão arbitrária da igreja. Assim manteve a autopistia da Escritura contra as pretensões de Roma, subordinou a igreja à palavra de Deus e com isso salvou a liberdade do cristão.

5. Ao lado dessa diferença entre Roma e a Reforma quanto ao fundamento da autoridade, surgiu no século XVII, dentro das próprias igrejas protestantes, outra luta acerca da natureza dessa autoridade. Neste ponto havia acordo: a Escritura, por ter Deus como autor, possuía uma auctoritas divina, devia ser crida e obedecida por todos e era a única regra de fé e de vida. Ora, essa definição levava por si à distinção entre uma auctoritas historica e uma auctoritas normativa. Pois a revelação de Deus é dada em forma de história e passou por tempos diversos. De modo algum tudo o que está registrado na Escritura tem autoridade normativa para a nossa fé e a nossa vida: muito do que foi ordenado por Deus ou prescrito por profetas e apóstolos referia-se a pessoas que viveram antes e é útil como história para ensino e admoestação, mas não pode nem deve mais ser seguido por nós; a revelação registrou não apenas as boas obras dos santos, mas também os feitos maus dos ímpios, e os pecados dos santos são comunicados para advertência, não para imitação. Assim ocorrem na Escritura palavras e ações que, embora apresentadas como historicamente verdadeiras, não são apresentadas como normativas.

Essa questão não teve consequências ulteriores, mas trouxe pela primeira vez à consciência com clareza que há distinção entre palavra de Deus em sentido formal e em sentido material. Ora, essa relação foi por certo concebida pela maioria daqueles teólogos de modo dualista demais: a autoridade da história e a história da norma não se podem separar na Escritura de maneira tão abstrata, e mesmo nas palavras mentirosas de Satanás e nos feitos maus dos ímpios Deus tem algo a dizer-nos. Mas por essa distinção ficou claro que a Escritura não pode nem deve ser concebida como um código cheio de artigos. Um apelo a um texto fora do contexto não basta para um dogma. A revelação depositada na Escritura é um todo histórico e orgânico; assim quer ser lida e explicada. E por isso o dogma, que vem a nós com autoridade e quer ser regra para a nossa fé e a nossa vida, deve ser fundado sobre o organismo inteiro da Escritura e derivado dele. A autoridade da Escritura é diferente da autoridade de uma lei do Estado.

6. A natureza e o fundamento da autoridade da Escritura foram, porém, postos em discussão sobretudo na teologia mais recente. Antigamente a autoridade repousava sobre a inspiração e estava com isso dada por si mesma; abandonada a inspiração, ela já não era sustentável. A autoridade da Escritura, na medida em que ainda era reconhecida, passou a assentar sobre isto: que ela é o documento autêntico da revelação; que exprime do modo mais puro a ideia cristã; que contém a doutrina cristã completa, ainda que só em germe; que é o começo e a contínua renovação do espírito cristão na comunidade.

Todos esses fundamentos, porém, não são firmes o bastante para sustentar uma autoridade tal como a religião exige. Pois, pela distinção entre revelação e documento da revelação, entre palavra de Deus e Escritura, tornam de fato inteiramente ilusória a autoridade da Escritura. Se não a Escritura como um todo, mas só a palavra de Deus nela tem autoridade, então cada um tem de determinar por si mesmo o que é essa palavra de Deus, e cada um o determina a seu bel-prazer. O centro de gravidade transfere-se do objeto para o sujeito; a Escritura não critica o homem, mas o homem julga a Escritura; a autoridade da Escritura existe apenas na medida em que se queira reconhecê-la, e está assim inteiramente destruída. E, ainda que esses fundamentos pudessem assegurar-lhe alguma autoridade, esta não seria outra senão puramente histórica, isto é, humana e falível. Porque a religião toca a nossa salvação e está ligada aos nossos interesses eternos, nela não nos podemos contentar com menos que uma autoridade divina. Sem essa certeza não há consolo na vida nem no morrer. E também a igreja como instituto não pode dispensar essa segurança: se falta ao pregador a convicção da verdade divina da palavra que anuncia, quem lhe dá o direito de pôr-se acima de homens sujeitos às mesmas paixões que ele, de ocupá-los com os mais altos interesses da alma e até de anunciar-lhes uma bem-aventurança eterna ou uma perdição eterna? Vacilará a fé, diz Agostinho, se vacila a autoridade das divinas Escrituras.

Por isso também não pode merecer aprovação que a natureza dessa autoridade seja descrita como moral. Lessing já começou com isso, ao dizer que algo não é verdadeiro por estar na Bíblia, mas está na Bíblia por ser verdadeiro; desde o seu suspiro por libertação da autoridade da letra e do papa de papel, o crer por autoridade tem sido de todos os modos posto em ridículo. Saussaye declara que não há outra autoridade senão a moral, que autoridade intelectual não existe, e que não se crê na verdade por autoridade, mas a verdade tem autoridade, isto é, tem o direito de que se lhe obedeça. Essa representação sofre de confusão de conceitos. A verdade tem autoridade, certamente; ninguém o nega. Mas a questão é justamente o que, no domínio religioso, é a verdade e onde ela se há de encontrar. A isso só é possível uma dupla resposta. Ou: o que é a verdade, ou, se se quiser, quem é Cristo, dizem-no os apóstolos, di-lo a Escritura; ou: isso é decidido pelo juízo próprio, pela razão ou pela consciência de cada homem por si — e neste último caso não há mais autoridade alguma, e a Escritura fica inteira e totalmente sujeita à crítica do sujeito. Há, na verdade, um único fundamento sobre o qual a autoridade da Escritura pode repousar, e esse é a sua inspiração. Se este cai, ela contém então apenas escritos humanos, que como tais não podem alegar título algum para ser norma da nossa fé e da nossa vida; e com a Escritura cai, para o protestante, toda autoridade em religião. Todas as tentativas de reencontrar então ainda alguma autoridade — na pessoa de Cristo, na igreja, na experiência religiosa, na razão ou na consciência — acabam em decepção, e provam apenas que uma religião sem autoridade não pode existir. A religião distingue-se essencialmente da ciência: tem a sua própria certeza, não uma que repouse sobre a compreensão, mas uma que consiste na fé, na confiança; e essa confiança só pode repousar em Deus e na sua palavra. Aqui um testimonium humanum e uma fides humana são insuficientes. Inquieto está o nosso coração, até que repouse em Ti! Com razão diz também Harnack que nunca houve no mundo uma fé religiosa forte que não se tenha apoiado, em algum ponto decisivo, sobre uma autoridade externa.

7. Mas, ainda que a religião só se possa satisfazer com uma autoridade divina, a natureza dessa autoridade precisa ser investigada mais de perto. Autoridade é, em geral, o poder de quem tem algo a dizer, o direito de ter voz numa questão ou noutra. Dela só pode haver menção entre desiguais; exprime sempre uma relação de um superior com o seu inferior. E porque entre os homens a desigualdade é tão grande e tão múltipla, a autoridade ocupa entre eles lugar amplíssimo: ela é até o fundamento de toda a sociedade humana, e quem a mina trabalha na destruição da sociedade. Insensato e perigoso é, portanto, pôr o crer por autoridade sob luz ridícula.

Em todo domínio vivemos por autoridade. Na família, na sociedade e no Estado ela é clara: apresenta-se com ordens e leis, exige obediência e submissão e, em caso de revolta, tem até direito de coerção e punição. Mas estendemos esse conceito também à ciência e à arte, onde há igualmente distinção de dons e surge a relação de magistri e discipuli — e ali a autoridade traz outro caráter: não é jurídica, mas ética; não pode nem deve compelir, não tem direito de punição. Por mais eminentes que sejam as pessoas que aqui se apresentam com autoridade, o seu testemunho só conta na medida em que possam aduzir razões para ele; a autoridade não repousa em última instância nas pessoas, de modo que um ipse dixit fosse conclusivo, mas nas provas em que a sua afirmação se baseia. Numa palavra: nas ciências a autoridade humana vale tanto quanto as razões.

Esse conceito de autoridade encontramos enfim também na religião e na teologia, e aqui ela não é necessária em grau menor, mas em medida muito maior: aqui ela é uma necessidade vital. Sem autoridade e sem fé, religião e teologia não podem existir um só momento. Mas a autoridade traz aqui caráter inteiramente próprio: ela deve ser uma auctoritas divina, e por isso distingue-se sobretudo neste ponto da autoridade na ciência e na arte, em que a compreensão própria pode julgar e decidir. Quando Deus falou, toda dúvida terminou. A auctoritas divina não deve, portanto, ser chamada moral, ao menos não no sentido do ascendente moral de uma pessoa, pois a religião não é a relação de um inferior com o seu superior, mas de uma criatura com o seu Criador, de um súdito com o seu Soberano, de um filho com o seu Pai. A sua autoridade repousa no seu ser, não nas rationes. E não há nada de degradante nisso, nem coisa alguma que diminua a liberdade do homem: crer em Deus sob a sua palavra está tão pouco em conflito com a dignidade do homem quanto desonra a um filho apoiar-se com confiança ilimitada na palavra do pai. O crente nunca se eleva nesta terra acima do ponto de vista da fé e da autoridade; à medida que cresce na fé, apega-se mais firmemente à autoridade de Deus na sua palavra.

Mas há também grande diferença entre a autoridade de Deus na religião e a de um pai na família ou de um governo no Estado. O pai constrange o filho, se preciso, e o governo não traz a espada em vão: a coerção é inseparável da autoridade do governo terreno. Mas Deus não constrange. A sua revelação é uma revelação de graça, e nela ele vem ao homem não com ordens e exigências, mas com o convite, com a admoestação, com a súplica de que se deixe reconciliar com ele. A autoridade com que Deus se apresenta na religião é assim inteiramente de espécie própria. Não é humana, mas divina. É soberana e no entanto atua de modo moral. Não constrange, e no entanto sabe manter-se. É absoluta e no entanto é resistida. Convida e suplica, e no entanto é invencível.

E assim é também a autoridade da Escritura. Como palavra de Deus, ela está muito acima de toda autoridade dos homens no Estado e na sociedade, na ciência e na arte. Toda outra autoridade é limitada à sua esfera; mas a autoridade da Escritura estende-se sobre o homem inteiro e sobre a humanidade inteira, acima do entendimento e da vontade, acima do coração e da consciência. A sua autoridade é absoluta, porque é divina. Mas não chama ninguém em auxílio para trazer-se a si mesma a reconhecimento e domínio: não precisa do braço forte do governo, não requer o apoio da igreja, não apela à espada nem à inquisição, não quer reinar por coerção ou violência — quer reconhecimento livre e voluntário. E por isso ela mesma o produz, por via moral, pela operação do Espírito Santo. A Escritura vela pela sua própria autoridade. Por isso se falava antigamente de uma auctoritas causativa da Escritura, pela qual ela gera e confirma no entendimento do homem o assentimento às coisas que se devem crer.

C. A necessidade da Escritura.

8. Quanto à autoridade há grande acordo entre as igrejas cristãs; mas nas três outras propriedades há diferença importante. Roma, pela relação que assume entre Escritura e igreja, não pode reconhecer a necessitas Sacrae Scripturae. Para Roma a igreja é autopistos, autossuficiente, e conserva a verdade pelo ofício docente infalível do papa; a Escritura, tendo procedido da igreja, pode ser útil e boa como norma, mas não é principium da verdade nem é necessária ad esse ecclesiae. Antes, é a Escritura que tem necessidade da igreja para a sua autoridade, suplementação e interpretação. Os fundamentos dessa doutrina são tirados do fato de que a igreja antes de Moisés e a primeira comunidade cristã não tinham Escritura, e de que muitos crentes nunca a possuíram nem leram, mas viveram única e somente da tradição.

Mas não é só Roma que assim combate a necessidade da Escritura. O gnosticismo rejeitou o Antigo Testamento e aplicou ao Novo o método alegórico: as formas sensíveis e os fatos históricos têm apenas significado simbólico, são uma vestimenta necessária aos homens de posição inferior, mas que cai para os mais desenvolvidos, os pneumatikoi; a Escritura não é fonte da verdade, mas apenas meio para alçar-se ao ponto de vista mais alto da gnose. No montanismo apareceu uma nova revelação, que suplementava e melhorava a do Novo Testamento: por um lado não queria ser nada de novo e queria manter em pleno vigor a autoridade da Escritura, e no entanto saudava em Montano um profeta em quem o Paráclito prometido por Jesus tinha aparecido — a Escritura tinha assim de ceder à nova profecia. O espiritualismo voltou sempre, reagindo contra o poder constritor da igreja e da tradição: várias seitas julgavam que depois do período do Pai e do Filho chegara o do Espírito Santo, em que todos viviam pelo Espírito e já não precisavam dos meios externos da Escritura e da igreja. A mística, que floresceu na Idade Média, buscava por ascese, meditação e contemplação alcançar uma comunhão com Deus que pudesse dispensar a Escritura: esta era necessária a modo de escada para subir a essa altura, mas tornava-se supérflua uma vez atingida a visio Dei.

Os anabatistas em particular exaltaram a palavra interior à custa da exterior. Já em 1521 fez-se o contraste entre Escritura e Espírito, e esse contraste tornou-se característica permanente do anabatismo: a Sagrada Escritura não é a verdadeira palavra de Deus, mas apenas testemunho e descrição dela; a palavra genuína e verdadeira é a que o Espírito Santo fala nos nossos corações. A Bíblia é apenas um livro com letras; Bíblia é Babel, cheia de confusão; ela não pode operar fé nos corações. E, se o Espírito nos instrui, então podemos também dispensar a Escritura: é um auxílio temporário, mas não necessário para o homem espiritual. Hans Denck já identificava essa palavra interior com a razão natural, e Knipperdolling exigiu em Münster que a Escritura fosse abolida e que se vivesse só segundo a natureza e o espírito. A mística virou racionalismo. O mesmo fenômeno se vê mais tarde nas seitas independentes na Inglaterra, entre os quakers e no pietismo: a elevação da palavra interior acima da exterior levou sempre à identificação da instrução do Espírito com a luz natural da razão, e assim à rejeição completa da revelação e da Escritura.

Ninguém contestou, por isso, mais agudamente a necessidade da Escritura que Lessing nos seus Axiomata contra Goeze. Também ele distingue entre letra e espírito, Bíblia e religião, religião cristã e religião de Jesus, e diz que esta última existiu e pode existir independentemente da primeira. A religião já estava aí antes de a Bíblia estar; o cristianismo já estava aí antes que evangelistas e apóstolos escrevessem; a religião por eles ensinada pode continuar a existir ainda que todos os seus escritos se perdessem. A religião não é verdadeira porque evangelistas e apóstolos a ensinaram, mas eles a ensinaram porque ela é verdadeira. Lutero libertou-nos do jugo da tradição: quem nos libertará do jugo ainda muito mais insuportável da letra?

9. Esses pensamentos sobre a não necessidade da Escritura foram introduzidos na teologia mais recente sobretudo por Schleiermacher. Na sua Glaubenslehre diz ele que a fé em Cristo não repousa sobre a autoridade da Escritura, mas precede a fé na Escritura e é justamente o que nos leva a conceder-lhe estima especial: entre os primeiros cristãos a fé em Cristo não surgiu da Escritura, e portanto também no nosso caso ela não pode surgir dela, pois no caso deles e no nosso a fé há de ter o mesmo fundamento. A Escritura não é fonte da religião, mas de fato norma; é o primeiro membro na série dos escritos cristãos, está mais próxima da revelação em Cristo e por isso corria pouco perigo de acolher em si elementos impuros. Mas todos os escritos dos evangelistas e apóstolos, tal como todos os escritos cristãos posteriores, procederam de um só e mesmo Gemeingeist, o espírito comum da igreja cristã. A igreja não está edificada sobre a Escritura, mas a Escritura procedeu da igreja.

Por Schleiermacher esses pensamentos tornaram-se propriedade comum da teologia mais recente, e parecem tão evidentes que não se pensa em dúvida ou crítica alguma: a igreja existiu antes da Escritura e portanto também pode existir independentemente dela; repousa em si mesma, vive do Espírito que nela habita; a fonte é o Cristo pessoal e vivo que habita na comunidade, e a dogmática é descrição da vida, explicitação da consciência religiosa da comunidade. A igreja é assim propriamente a autora da Bíblia, e a Bíblia o reflexo da comunidade.

Todas essas ideias — de Roma, do anabatismo, da mística, do racionalismo, de Lessing, de Schleiermacher — são estreitíssimamente aparentadas entre si, e Schleiermacher em particular, pela sua inversão da relação entre Escritura e igreja, ofereceu a Roma poderoso apoio. Todos concordam em que a Escritura não é necessária, mas quando muito útil, e em que a igreja também pode existir de si e por si. A diferença está apenas em que Roma busca o fundamento dessa subsistência na igreja como instituto, isto é, no papa infalível; Schleiermacher e os seus, na comunidade como organismo; e a mística e o racionalismo, nos indivíduos religiosos.

É fácil ver que Roma ocupa aqui a posição mais forte. Pois certamente há uma condução do Espírito Santo na comunidade; há uma união mística entre Cristo e o seu corpo; a palavra sozinha é insuficiente, o principium externum exige também um principium internum. O protestantismo sabia muito bem tudo isso e o confessava de coração. Mas a questão era esta: se a igreja, para a vida consciente da religião, estava ligada à palavra, à Escritura, ou não. A religião não é apenas assunto do coração, do sentimento e da vontade, mas também da cabeça; Deus deve ser servido e amado também com o entendimento, e para a vida consciente a igreja precisa ter uma fonte da qual haure a verdade. Ora, Roma, com o seu papa infalível, pode afirmar que a Escritura não é necessária: a infalibilidade da igreja de fato torna a Escritura supérflua. Mas o protestantismo não tem órgão infalível algum, nem no instituto, nem no organismo, nem nos membros individuais da comunidade. Quando nega a necessidade da Escritura, enfraquece-se a si mesmo, fortalece Roma e perde a verdade, que é elemento indispensável da religião. Por isso a Reforma insistiu tão fortemente na necessidade da Sagrada Escritura: a Escritura foi o "dá-me onde firmar-me" da Reforma, e ela venceu porque, contra a autoridade da igreja, dos concílios e do papa, podia pôr a autoridade da santa palavra de Deus. Quem abandona esse ponto de vista trabalha inconscientemente na edificação de Roma. Pois, se não a Escritura mas a igreja é necessária para o conhecimento da verdade religiosa, então esta se torna o indispensável medium gratiae, e a palavra perde o seu lugar central e conserva apenas significado preparatório e pedagógico.

10. Ainda que a Reforma buscasse assim contra Roma a sua força na Escritura, nem por isso negou que a igreja existiu por séculos, antes de Moisés, sem Escritura; que a igreja do Novo Testamento foi fundada pela pregação dos apóstolos e por muito tempo existiu sem cânon neotestamentário; que os livros surgiram gradualmente e, antes da imprensa, eram difundidos em pequeno número; que muitos crentes morreram sem nunca ter lido e examinado a Escritura. Tudo isso se pode reconhecer de coração sem com isso fazer a mínima injustiça à necessidade da Escritura. De fato, Deus, se lhe tivesse aprazido, poderia certamente ter conservado a igreja na verdade também de outro modo que por meio de uma palavra escrita. A necessidade da Escritura não é absoluta, mas ex hypothesi beneplacentiae Dei.

Mas, assim entendida, essa necessidade está acima de toda dúvida. O homem em todos os tempos viveu somente da palavra que procede da boca de Deus, Mt 4.4, e a palavra de Deus foi desde o princípio a semente da igreja. Certamente a igreja existiu antes de Moisés sem Escritura; mas havia um verbum agraphon, uma palavra não escrita, antes que ela se tornasse engraphon, escrita. A igreja nunca viveu de si mesma nem repousou em si mesma, mas sempre da palavra de Deus. É preciso dizê-lo contra aqueles que fazem a revelação consistir apenas em vida, numa infusão de forças divinas, no despertar de emoções religiosas. A igreja pode, pois, ser mais velha que a palavra escrita, mas é mais nova que a palavra falada.

A afirmação corrente de que a igreja do Novo Testamento existiu longo tempo sem Escritura também deve ser bem entendida. É verdade que o cânon só foi geralmente reconhecido na segunda metade do século II; mas as comunidades cristãs tinham desde o princípio o Antigo Testamento, foram fundadas pela palavra falada dos apóstolos e muito cedo vieram a possuir escritos apostólicos, que logo serviram para leitura pública nas igrejas. Compreende-se por si que, enquanto os apóstolos viviam e visitavam as comunidades, nenhuma distinção se fazia ainda entre a sua palavra falada e a escrita: tradição e Escritura eram ainda uma só coisa. Mas, crescida a distância em relação aos apóstolos, os seus escritos subiram em significado e a sua necessidade foi aumentando. Com efeito, a necessitas Sacrae Scripturae não é uma propriedade estável, mas sempre crescente. A Escritura surgiu e completou-se gradualmente; à medida que a revelação progredia, também ela aumentava em extensão, e cada período da igreja teve o bastante com a porção que então existia. Ambas, revelação e Escritura, mantiveram passo igual com o estado da igreja. Por isso nenhuma conclusão se pode tirar das condições anteriores da igreja para o presente: daquela dispensação em que vivemos, na qual a revelação terminou e a Escritura se completou, a Escritura não é apenas útil e boa, mas decididamente necessária ad esse ecclesiae.

11. A Escritura é, ademais, o único meio adequado para conservar inalterada a palavra falada e torná-la propriedade de todos os homens. Vox audita perit, littera scripta manet: a voz ouvida perece, a letra escrita permanece. A brevidade da vida, a infidelidade da memória, a astúcia do coração e os perigos que ameaçam a pureza da tradição tornam absolutamente necessário o registro da palavra falada. Com a palavra da revelação isso vale em grau ainda mais elevado, pois o evangelho não é segundo o homem, está em oposição direta aos seus pensamentos e desejos. Além disso, a revelação não se destina a uma geração e a um tempo, mas a todos os povos e séculos: como poderia esse destino ser alcançado senão pelo seu registro por escrito?

A igreja não pode prestar esse serviço à palavra. Em parte alguma lhe é prometida infalibilidade; sempre é ela remetida na Escritura à palavra objetiva, à lei e ao testemunho. A rigor, nem mesmo Roma o afirma: não é infalível a igreja como assembleia dos crentes, nem a assembleia dos bispos, mas só o papa. A declaração da infalibilidade do papa é uma prova da tese da Reforma sobre a inconfiabilidade da tradição e sobre a falibilidade da igreja. Pois essa declaração implica que a verdade da palavra da revelação não pode ser conservada pela igreja como assembleia dos crentes, já que também esta está sujeita ao erro, mas só se explica por uma assistência especial do Espírito Santo. Roma e a Reforma concordam, pois, em que a palavra da revelação só pode conservar-se pura na igreja e para a igreja pela instituição do apostolado, isto é, pela inspiração; e a disputa versa apenas sobre se esse apostolado cessou ou se continua no papa.

Por outro lado, é inteiramente insustentável a afirmação da teologia da mediação de que a Escritura procedeu da igreja e de que esta é propriamente a autora da Bíblia. Só se pode afirmar isso desconhecendo o ofício próprio dos profetas e apóstolos, identificando inspiração com regeneração e desligando a Escritura inteiramente da revelação. A inspiração é um ato especial do Espírito Santo, um dom especial a profetas e apóstolos, pelo qual puderam transmitir pura e inalterada a palavra de Deus à igreja de todos os séculos. A Escritura não procedeu, pois, da igreja, mas foi dada à igreja; ela pertence também à revelação que Deus concedeu ao seu povo. Nisso Roma e a Reforma estão de acordo; mas a Reforma sustenta contra Roma que essa atividade especial do Espírito Santo agora cessou, isto é, que o apostolado já não existe e não se continua no papa. Os apóstolos depositaram plena e puramente nas Sagradas Escrituras o seu testemunho acerca de Cristo; por elas fizeram da revelação de Deus propriedade da humanidade. A Escritura é a palavra de Deus que entrou completamente no mundo; ela torna essa palavra geral e eterna, arranca-a ao erro e à mentira, ao esquecimento e à perecibilidade.

À medida que a humanidade cresce, a vida encurta, a memória enfraquece, o erro se agrava e a mentira se torna mais descarada, a necessitas Sacrae Scripturae aumenta: a Escritura é difundida e tornada propriedade comum como nunca antes, traduzida em centenas de línguas, e mostra-se cada vez mais o meio adequado para levar a verdade ao conhecimento de todos os homens. Que ao lado disso a literatura religiosa continue a ser, para muitos, o alimento principal da vida espiritual, nada prova contra a necessidade da Escritura, pois toda verdade cristã é hauridade dela direta ou indiretamente. É afirmação insustentável que ainda hoje algo da verdade cristã nos venha fora da Sagrada Escritura e sem ela: no primeiro século tal coisa era possível, mas agora as correntes da tradição e da Escritura há muito confluíram. O caráter cristão da verdade só pode ser demonstrado pelo fato de ela estar enraizada com todas as suas fibras na Sagrada Escritura. Não há conhecimento de Cristo senão a partir da Escritura, nem comunhão com ele senão pela comunhão na palavra dos apóstolos.

12. Mesmo reconhecida a necessidade da Escritura, pode ainda haver diferença de opinião sobre a duração dessa necessidade, e de toda sorte de modos ela foi limitada. O gnosticismo reconhecia-a para os psychikoi, os homens anímicos, e contestava-a para os pneumatikoi. A mística julgava a Escritura necessária no ponto de vista da cogitação e da meditação, mas já não no da contemplação e da visio Dei. O racionalismo de Lessing e de Kant atribuía à revelação, à Escritura, à religião estatutária um lugar pedagógico, para que assim se preparasse o domínio da religião da razão. Igualmente Hegel julgava que a forma da intuição na religião era necessária ao povo, mas que o filósofo, com os seus conceitos, já não tinha necessidade dela.

Há nessa concepção uma verdade inegável e gloriosa. A revelação, a Escritura, a igreja, toda a religião cristã trazem de fato caráter temporal, preparatório e pedagógico; e esta dispensação da aliança da graça, em que vivemos, pertencerá um dia ao passado, quando Cristo houver reunido a sua igreja e entregar o reino a Deus. A dualidade de graça e natureza, de revelação e razão, de autoridade e liberdade não pode ser de duração eterna. O mais alto na religião consiste afinal em que sirvamos a Deus sem coerção e sem temor, só por amor, segundo a expressão da nossa própria natureza; e é o próprio Deus que na sua revelação se ocupa em formar homens em quem a sua imagem seja de novo plenamente restaurada. Nessa medida as concepções acima mencionadas podem ser chamadas antecipação do ideal futuro.

Mas elas são, contudo, de tendência muito perigosa. Todas partem de uma confusão entre a dispensação presente e a do além. Embora a igreja militante e a triunfante sejam uma só, permanece uma distinção na condição e na vida de ambas, e a linha divisória não pode nem deve ser apagada. A vida celestial nós nunca a trazemos para cá, para a terra. Andamos por fé, e não por vista; a visio Dei está reservada ao céu. Independentes e autossuficientes nunca nos tornamos nesta terra, e o ponto de vista da autoridade nunca pode ser superado aqui.

Mas, além disso, essa doutrina cava um abismo profundo entre os homens anímicos e os espirituais, entre os civilizados e a massa, entre os filósofos e o povo — e um tal abismo não tem em respeito algum direito de existir. Se a religião consistisse em conhecimento, então os doutos gozariam de um privilégio sobre os não desenvolvidos. Mas religiosamente todos os homens são iguais e têm as mesmas necessidades; em Cristo não há distinção de grego e bárbaro, pois diante da face de Deus são sem valor todas essas distinções de posição e privilégio pelas quais um homem se avantaja aos outros. A separação entre aquelas duas espécies de homens testemunha, portanto, um orgulho espiritual que está em conflito direto com a humildade que a religião cristã exige. Os publicanos precedem os fariseus, e o menor é o maior no reino dos céus.

Depois, ainda haveria algo a dizer em favor dessa separação se o racionalismo tivesse razão e a revelação consistisse em nada mais que verdades de razão, pois então estas, embora provisoriamente conhecidas pela revelação, poderiam mais tarde ser derivadas pelo pensamento a partir da própria razão. Mas a revelação tem conteúdo inteiramente diverso de uma doutrina racional: é história, tem a graça por conteúdo, a pessoa de Cristo por centro, a recriação da humanidade por fim. Nada disso pode jamais ser achado pelo pensamento ou derivado da razão. Para conhecer uma tal revelação, a Escritura permanece necessária em todos os tempos. Mesmo uma revelação de Deus a cada homem, um por um, não poderia conceder o que agora a revelação em Cristo, pela Escritura, oferece a todos os homens: o caráter histórico da revelação, o fato e a ideia da encarnação e a visão orgânica do gênero humano exigem uma Escritura em que a revelação de Deus esteja depositada para a humanidade inteira. Ela é a palavra de Deus à humanidade inteira. E a própria história dá poderoso testemunho dessa necessidade: a mística altamente espiritual virou repetidas vezes no mais vulgar racionalismo, e o espiritualismo entusiástico acabou muitas vezes no mais grosseiro materialismo. A necessitas Sacrae Scripturae prova-se negativamente, pelos movimentos que a combatem, com a mesma força com que se prova positivamente pelas igrejas que a confessam.

D. A clareza da Escritura.

13. Outra propriedade importante que a Reforma atribuiu à Escritura contra Roma foi a perspicuitas. Segundo Roma, a Escritura é obscura. Também nas matérias que se referem à fé e à vida ela não é tão clara que possa dispensar interpretação, pois trata dos mistérios mais profundos — de Deus, da Trindade, da encarnação, da predestinação — e é mesmo nos preceitos morais tantas vezes tão pouco clara, que a cada momento houve mal-entendido e má interpretação na igreja cristã. Para o reto entendimento é também necessária toda sorte de conhecimento de história, cronologia, arqueologia e línguas, inatingível para os leigos; os próprios protestantes escrevem incontáveis comentários e, nos textos mais importantes, divergem uns dos outros na exegese. É necessária, portanto, uma interpretação da Escritura, e esta não pode ser dada pela própria Escritura: a Escritura não pode ser o seu próprio intérprete. É como a lei segundo a qual o juiz profere sentença, mas não é lei e juiz ao mesmo tempo.

Deve haver, pois, um intérprete e um juiz que dê a decisão segundo a Escritura. Se não há tal juiz, a interpretação torna-se inteiramente subjetiva: cada um julga a seu bel-prazer e tem por infalível a sua concepção individual; todo herege tem a sua letra, e cada um busca na Escritura precisamente os seus próprios dogmas. Individualismo, entusiasmo, racionalismo e divisão sem fim são o resultado. E o pior é que, se não há interpretação infalível, também não há certeza absoluta de fé: o fundamento sobre o qual repousa a esperança do cristão é então opinião piedosa, discernimento científico, mas não testemunho divino e infalível.

Tal interpretação infalível foi, porém, concedida por Deus na sua igreja. Não a Escritura morta, incompreendida e obscura, deixada a si mesma, mas a igreja, viva, sempre presente, sempre a renovar-se pelo Espírito, é a mediadora da verdade e a intérprete infalível da Escritura. Pois cada um é o melhor intérprete da sua própria palavra: o verdadeiro intérprete da Escritura é o Espírito Santo, que é o seu autor; e este tem o seu órgão infalível na igreja, ou melhor ainda, no papa. Por isso o Concílio de Trento determinou que ninguém pode interpretar a Sagrada Escritura contra aquele sentido que a santa mãe igreja sustentou e sustenta, à qual compete julgar do verdadeiro sentido das Escrituras, nem tampouco contra o consenso unânime dos Padres — vinculando com isso a exegese não só negativamente, mas muito decididamente também de modo positivo. Ninguém pode dar outra exegese senão a que a igreja deu pelos seus pais, concílios ou papas.

Mas não é só a exegese científica que por essa doutrina fica sujeita ao papa: ainda mais dependente e preso fica o leigo. A Escritura, por causa da sua obscuridade, não é leitura apropriada para os leigos; sem interpretação é ininteligível para o povo. Por isso a tradução da Escritura na língua vernácula e a leitura da Bíblia pelo povo foram cada vez mais restringidas por Roma, e a leitura não é permitida aos leigos senão com licença da autoridade eclesiástica.

14. A doutrina da perspicuitas Sacrae Scripturae foi repetidas vezes mal entendida e mal apresentada, tanto por protestantes quanto por católicos romanos. Ela não implica que as matérias de que a Escritura trata não sejam mistérios que ultrapassam de longe o entendimento humano. Nem afirma que a Escritura seja clara em todas as suas partes, de sorte que nenhuma exegese científica fosse necessária. E tampouco significa que ela, também na doutrina da salvação, seja simples e clara para todo homem sem distinção. Ela inclui apenas isto: que aquela verdade cujo conhecimento é necessário a todos para a salvação, embora não seja em cada página igualmente clara, é contudo apresentada em toda a Escritura em forma tão simples e compreensível, que alguém a quem importe a salvação da sua alma pode facilmente, pela sua própria leitura e investigação, aprender a conhecer essa verdade a partir da Escritura, sem auxílio e condução de igreja e sacerdote. O caminho da salvação está ali, não quanto à matéria, mas quanto ao modus tradendi, claramente exposto ao leitor que deseja salvar-se. O "como" pode ele não entender; o "que" é, contudo, claro.

Assim entendida, a perspicuidade é uma propriedade que a Escritura repetidas vezes predica de si mesma. A torah foi dada por Deus a todo o Israel; a lei e a palavra do Senhor não estão longe de nenhum deles, mas são luz no caminho e lâmpada para os pés, Sl 119.105. Os profetas dirigem-se, falando e escrevendo, ao povo inteiro; Jesus fala abertamente a todas as multidões; e os apóstolos escrevem a todos os santos chamados e eles mesmos providenciam a difusão das suas cartas, Cl 4.16. A palavra escrita é recomendada a todos para exame, Jo 5.39, e foi escrita precisamente para conceder fé, esperança, consolo e doutrina, Jo 20.31. De uma sonegação da Escritura aos leigos não há em parte alguma menção: os crentes são eles mesmos maiores de idade e capazes de julgar; as palavras de Deus lhes foram confiadas.

Os pais da igreja, portanto, nada sabem da obscuridade da Escritura no sentido romano posterior. É certo que falam muitas vezes das profundezas e dos mistérios da Escritura; mas tão frequentemente exaltam a sua clareza e simplicidade — assim Crisóstomo, dizendo que os profetas e apóstolos, ao contrário dos filósofos, tornaram claro e manifesto a todos o que deles vinha, por serem mestres comuns do mundo habitado, a fim de que cada um pudesse aprender por si mesmo, pela simples leitura, o que ali se diz. Ainda hoje os teólogos romanos têm de reconhecer que muito na Escritura é tão claro que também o incrédulo que rejeita o sentido claro fica inescusável. Os pais também não pensavam em proibir aos leigos a leitura da Escritura; pelo contrário, instam repetidamente pelo exame das Sagradas Escrituras. A restrição só surgiu quando, a partir do século XII, várias seitas começaram a apelar à Escritura contra a igreja: ganhou então entrada a opinião de que a leitura da Bíblia pelos leigos era a principal fonte da heresia, e em defesa própria Roma passou a ensinar cada vez mais a obscuridade da Escritura.

15. De fato, as igrejas da Reforma não têm contra Roma arma mais poderosa que a Escritura, e a doutrina da perspicuidade é um dos baluartes mais firmes da Reforma. Ela traz certamente consigo os seus sérios perigos: o protestantismo está por ela irremediavelmente dividido, o individualismo desenvolveu-se à custa do sentido de comunidade, e a livre leitura e investigação da Escritura vem sendo abusada do modo mais chocante por toda sorte de partidos e direções. Mas ainda assim as desvantagens não superam as vantagens. Pois a negação da clareza da Escritura acarreta a sujeição do leigo ao sacerdote, da consciência à igreja. Com a perspicuidade da Escritura cai a liberdade da religião e da consciência, da igreja e da teologia. Só ela é capaz de manter a liberdade do homem cristão; é origem e garantia das liberdades religiosas e também das políticas. E uma liberdade que não se pode obter e possuir senão com o perigo da licenciosidade e do arbítrio é sempre ainda preferível a uma tirania que suprime toda liberdade. O próprio Deus, na criação do homem, escolheu esse caminho da liberdade, que trazia consigo o perigo e de fato também o fato do pecado, em vez do da submissão forçada; e ele ainda segue, no governo do mundo e da igreja, esse caminho régio da liberdade. É precisamente essa a sua honra: que alcança o seu fim através da liberdade, cria ordem da desordem, luz das trevas, cosmo do caos.

Ambos, Roma e a Reforma, concordam em que só o Espírito Santo é o verdadeiro intérprete da palavra. Mas Roma julga que o Espírito Santo ensina infalivelmente apenas pelo papa; a Reforma crê que o Espírito Santo habita no coração de todo crente — todo filho de Deus tem a unção do Santo. Ela põe por isso a Escritura na mão de todos, traduz-a e difunde-a e não usa na igreja outra língua senão a vernácula. Roma gloria-se da sua unidade, mas essa unidade parece maior do que é: sob a aparência de uma unidade externa esconde-se em Roma uma divisão interna quase igualmente grande, e o número de incrédulos e indiferentes não é menor nos países romanos que nos protestantes.

16. Por causa dessa perspicuidade, a Escritura tem também a facultas se ipsam interpretandi e é ela mesma o supremus judex controversiarum. A Escritura interpreta-se a si mesma: as passagens obscuras são explicadas pelas claras, e os pensamentos fundamentais da Escritura como um todo servem para elucidar as partes. Era essa a interpretatio secundum analogiam fidei, defendida também pelos reformados. Também os reformadores não vieram à Escritura sem pressupostos: adotaram quase sem crítica o símbolo apostólico e as decisões dos primeiros concílios. Não eram revolucionários e não queriam começar do princípio, mas protestavam apenas contra os erros que se haviam infiltrado. A Reforma não foi a libertação do homem natural, mas do homem cristão. Havia, portanto, desde o começo entre os reformadores uma analogia fidei, dentro da qual eles mesmos estavam e segundo a qual interpretavam a Escritura — e por ela entendiam originalmente o sentido derivado das passagens claras da própria Escritura, que depois foi fixado nas confissões.

Em conexão com isso, também a igreja tinha um chamado no tocante à interpretação. Em virtude da potestas doctrinae que Cristo lhe concedeu, a igreja tem o dever não só de conservar a Escritura, mas também de interpretá-la e defendê-la, de formular a verdade na sua confissão e de detectar e resistir aos erros. A igreja é, pois, também no seu círculo e no seu terreno, judex controversiarum. Para isso ela não precisa ser infalível, pois também o juiz no Estado está preso à lei, mas é falível nas suas sentenças: a Escritura é norma, a igreja é juiz. Mas também aqui há apelação superior. Roma nega isso e diz que a sentença da igreja é a última e a suprema, e que dela já não é possível nem mesmo apelo ao juízo divino. Mas a Reforma sustentou que uma igreja, por mais venerável que seja, pode contudo errar: a sua interpretação não é magisterialis, mas ministerialis, e só pode obrigar na consciência na medida em que alguém a reconheça como divina e infalível. A igreja pode lançar alguém fora como herege, mas ele está de pé ou cai, no fim, como senhor de si mesmo. O crente mais simples pode e deve, com a Escritura na mão, se preciso opor-se a uma igreja inteira, como Lutero fez contra Roma. Só assim se mantêm a liberdade do cristão e, ao mesmo tempo, a soberania de Deus. Da Escritura não há apelação superior. Ela é a instância suprema. Nenhum poder e nenhuma sentença estão acima dela. É ela que no fim, para cada um na sua consciência, decide. E por isso é judex supremus controversiarum.

E. A suficiência da Escritura.

17. Por fim, a Reforma confessou também a perfectio ou sufficientia Sacrae Scripturae. A igreja romana julga que a Escritura é imperfeita in partibus e deve ser suplementada pela tradição. Declarou em Trento que recebe e venera, com igual afeto de piedade e reverência, as próprias tradições, tanto as que pertencem à fé quanto as que pertencem aos costumes, como ditadas oralmente por Cristo ou pelo Espírito Santo e conservadas na Igreja Católica por sucessão contínua; e afirmou no Vaticano que a revelação sobrenatural está contida em livros escritos e em tradições não escritas.

Os fundamentos que Roma aduz para essa doutrina são vários. Primeiro, aponta-se que a igreja antes de Moisés esteve inteiramente sem Escritura e que também depois muitos crentes vivem e morrem sem jamais ler ou investigar a Escritura. Depois, seria estranho que fosse diferente na esfera religiosa do que em todo outro domínio: no direito e no costume, na arte e na ciência, na família e na sociedade a tradição é a portadora e a nutriz da nossa vida, e já a analogia exige, pois, que haja também tradição na igreja — e esta há de ser aqui tanto mais certa que alhures, porque Cristo deu o Espírito Santo à sua igreja e por ele a conduz infalivelmente a toda verdade. A isso acrescem declarações da Escritura que reconhecem o direito e o valor da tradição: Jesus ensinou aos seus discípulos ainda muitas coisas que não foram por eles descritas, mas propagadas de boca em boca. Enfim, a Escritura sozinha é insuficiente: os apóstolos receberam a ordem de testemunhar, mas não de fazê-lo por escrito, e os seus escritos são, na maior parte, escritos ocasionais. Assim encontramos na Escritura pouco ou nada sobre a celebração do domingo, o episcopado, os sete sacramentos, o purgatório, a imaculada conceição de Maria. Numa palavra: a Escritura é útil, mas a tradição é necessária.

18. Contra essa doutrina romana da tradição a Reforma pôs a da perfeição e suficiência da Escritura. O bom direito desse combate foi posto em clara luz pelo próprio desenvolvimento do conceito de tradição. As primeiras comunidades cristãs foram fundadas pela palavra pregada, e a doutrina e os usos recebidos dos apóstolos propagaram-se por tempo considerável de boca em boca. Esse conceito de tradição era claro. Mas, à medida que crescia a distância que separava as igrejas do tempo apostólico, tornou-se cada vez mais difícil determinar se algo era realmente de origem apostólica. A igreja africana protestou por isso contra o valor exagerado que se lhe atribuía: o nosso Senhor chamou-se a si mesmo verdade, não costume — e costume sem verdade é apenas antiguidade do erro.

Tornou-se por isso necessário definir a tradição com mais precisão e indicar as suas características. Vicente de Lérins achou os critérios de uma tradição apostólica em que algo tenha sido crido em toda parte, sempre e por todos: a apostolicitas torna-se conhecível pela universitas, pela antiquitas e pela consensio. Trento, o Vaticano e os teólogos ligam-se a esses critérios; mas no fundo há desvio, pois a consequência levou mais longe. Não era sustentável que algo fosse apostólico só quando realmente sempre, em toda parte e por todos tivesse sido crido — de que doutrina se poderia demonstrar tal catolicidade absoluta? Os três critérios foram assim sendo gradualmente enfraquecidos: a conservação da tradição não se há de pensar mecanicamente, mas organicamente, e uma verdade pode muito bem não ter sido crida antes, ou não ter sido geralmente crida, e ser contudo tradição apostólica infalível, desde que agora seja apenas geralmente crida. Os dois critérios antiquitas e universitas não são, pois, marcas copulativas, mas distributivas: um dos dois basta. De fato, com isso a antiquitas foi sacrificada à universitas.

Mas também esta última é de novo limitada, pois surgiu a pergunta de quem era o órgão para a conservação e para o reconhecimento da tradição. A igreja em geral não podia sê-lo: a tarefa de conservar e determinar a doutrina não podia ser confiada aos leigos. Na igreja deve fazer-se distinção entre a ecclesia audiens e a docens; a primeira possui apenas uma infallibilitas passiva, isto é, é infalível apenas no seu crer, enquanto e na medida em que permanece em ligação com a ecclesia docens. Mas também esta última não é o órgão próprio da doutrina. O galicanismo e os velhos-católicos ficaram parados aqui e atribuem infalibilidade aos bispos em conjunto; mas esse ponto de vista é insustentável, pois nunca se pôde dizer quando e sob que condições esses bispos são infalíveis. O sistema papal foi por isso um passo adiante e atribuiu a infalibilidade ao papa. Belarmino incluiu entre as marcas da tradição também esta regra: deve-se crer sem dúvida que descende da tradição apostólica aquilo que por tal é tido naquelas igrejas em que há sucessão íntegra e contínua desde os apóstolos; ora, na antiguidade havia muitas dessas igrejas além de Roma, mas hoje só resta Roma, e portanto só do testemunho desta igreja se pode tirar argumento certo. A igreja de Roma determina e decide o que é tradição apostólica; e em 18 de julho de 1870, na quarta sessão do Concílio Vaticano, a infalibilidade foi abertamente proclamada como dogma.

Ora, é certo que o papa, nessa sua infalibilidade, não é pensado à parte da igreja, e que os símbolos, os decretos, os pais e toda a história da igreja são outros tantos monumentos da tradição, com os quais ele tem de contar. Mas, apesar disso, a tradição não é formalmente idêntica ao conteúdo de todos esses monumentos. A tradição é infalível; mas o que é tradição, isso é em última instância decidido só pelo papa, com a igreja e os concílios, sem eles, ou, se preciso, contra eles. Se o papa proclama um dogma, ele é eo ipso tradição apostólica. O critério da tradição foi assim buscado sucessivamente na apostolicidade, na catolicidade, na sucessão episcopal e na decisão papal. Com isso chegou-se ao fim. O papa infalível é o principium formale do romanismo. Roma locuta, res finita. Papa e igreja, papa e cristianismo são um só. Ubi papa, ibi ecclesia, ibi religio Christiana, ibi Spiritus. Do papa não há apelação superior, nem sequer para Deus.

Esse desfecho demonstra a falsidade do princípio que nele operou desde o começo. É claro que o elemento bom e verdadeiro, por causa do qual nos primeiros séculos importava manter a tradição, se perdeu inteiramente. Então tratava-se de conservar aquilo que, por instituição apostólica, se cria e se costumava nas comunidades, e compreendia-se por si que se atribuísse grande peso à tradição. Mas a marca da apostolicidade, que então cabia por si mesma à tradição, tinha de desaparecer à medida que se ia ficando mais longe do tempo apostólico. As correntes da Escritura e da tradição confluíram, e logo depois da morte dos apóstolos tornou-se impossível demonstrar algo como de origem apostólica senão por um apelo aos escritos apostólicos. De nenhum dogma que a igreja romana confessa fora da Escritura e sem ela se pode provar a origem apostólica. A doutrina da tradição em Roma serve apenas para justificar os desvios da Escritura e dos apóstolos: a veneração de Maria, o número sétuplo dos sacramentos, a infalibilidade papal — esses são os dogmas que não podem passar sem a tradição.

19. De fato, por essa doutrina da tradição a Escritura é despojada de toda a sua autoridade e do seu poder. Os católicos romanos predicam infalibilidade de ambas, Escritura e tradição, e em ambas buscam a causa da infalibilidade numa operação especial e sobrenatural do Espírito Santo — pois Roma compreende muito bem que a infalibilidade da tradição não se pode derivar dos crentes como tais, já que ocorrem na igreja muitos erros. Mas reconhecem entre as duas grande distinção: a atividade do Espírito Santo nos apóstolos consistiu em revelação e inspiração; a no papa consiste em assistência. Diz o Vaticano: nem foi o Espírito Santo prometido aos sucessores de Pedro para que, por revelação sua, dessem a conhecer nova doutrina, mas para que, por assistência sua, guardassem santamente e expusessem fielmente a revelação transmitida pelos apóstolos. A Escritura é a palavra de Deus, a tradição contém a palavra de Deus; a Escritura conserva as palavras dos apóstolos na sua forma original, a tradição reproduz a doutrina dos apóstolos apenas quanto à substância. Com a inspiração a atividade do Espírito era, em sentido estrito, sobrenatural; com a assistentia divina as pessoas são sempre elas mesmas ativas: investigam, deliberam, julgam, decidem. E a inspiração estende-se a todas as matérias, ao passo que pela assistência o papa é infalível apenas quando fala ex cathedra e define uma doutrina de fé ou de costumes a ser sustentada pela igreja universal.

Mas de fato a tradição faz grande dano à Escritura. Trento determina que a Escritura e a tradição devem ser veneradas com igual afeto de piedade e reverência. E, ainda que o papa em sentido estrito seja infalível apenas em matéria de fé e vida, para poder sê-lo deve também sê-lo no juízo acerca das fontes da fé e na interpretação, isto é, na determinação do que é Escritura e tradição, na determinação da autoridade dos pais e dos concílios, no juízo acerca dos erros e das heresias, na proibição de livros, na canonização de santos. O poder e a autoridade do papa vão muito além dos da Escritura: ele está acima dela, julga do seu conteúdo e do seu sentido e estabelece por autoridade própria os dogmas de doutrina e de vida. A Escritura é, para Roma, sempre apenas um auxílio, útil mas não necessário. A tradição não é suplemento da Escritura, mas a Escritura é suplemento da tradição. A Escritura sozinha é insuficiente, mas a tradição sozinha é suficiente. A Escritura repousa sobre a igreja, mas a igreja repousa em si mesma.

20. O desenvolvimento da tradição até a infalibilidade papal e a consequente degradação da Escritura já provam por si o bom direito da Reforma de levantar-se contra a tradição. Ela não ficou, porém, apenas no ataque, mas contrapôs à doutrina de Roma a da perfectio ou sufficientia Scripturae. Também esta propriedade deve ser bem entendida. Não se afirma com ela que tudo o que foi falado ou escrito pelos profetas, por Cristo e pelos apóstolos tenha sido incluído na Escritura, pois Jesus e os apóstolos certamente falaram muito mais palavras e fizeram mais sinais do que os descritos, Jo 20.30. Tampouco implica que a Escritura contenha todos os usos, cerimônias e regulamentos de que a igreja precisa para a sua organização; mas apenas que contém completamente os articuli fidei, as res necessariae ad salutem. E também não inclui que esses articuli fidei estejam nela contidos literalmente e com todas as letras, mas apenas que estejam contidos explícita ou implicitamente, de tal modo que, sem o auxílio de outra fonte, possam ser derivados dela somente por investigação comparativa e por reflexão. E, finalmente, esta perfectio não se há de entender como se a Escritura tivesse sido sempre a mesma quoad gradum: nos diversos tempos da igreja ela foi desigual em extensão, mas em cada tempo aquela palavra de Deus que existia, não escrita ou escrita, era também suficiente para aquele tempo. Também a Reforma fez distinção entre um verbum agraphon e um engraphon; mas Roma aceita ambos lado a lado e os tem por espécies de um só gênero, ao passo que a Reforma vê nessa distinção apenas uma só e mesma palavra de Deus, que primeiro existiu por um tempo não escrita e depois foi registrada.

A disputa entre Roma e a Reforma versa, portanto, apenas sobre isto: se agora, depois de a Escritura estar completa, existe ainda ao lado dela outra palavra de Deus em forma não escrita; noutras palavras, se a palavra escrita contém explícita ou implicitamente tudo o que precisamos saber para a nossa salvação, sendo assim regula totalis et adaequata fidei et morum, ou se ao lado dela se deve admitir ainda outro principium cognoscendi. Mas, assim posta, esta pergunta já quase não parece suscetível de dupla resposta. Também a igreja romana reconhece que a Escritura está concluída, que forma um todo orgânico, que o cânon está fechado; por mais alto que estimasse a tradição, não se atreveu ainda, em teoria, a pôr as decisões da igreja em uma linha com a Escritura, e continua a distinguir entre verbum Dei e verbum ecclesiae. Mas como se pode jamais ensinar a insuficiência da Escritura, enquanto se leva a sério o verbum Dei? Os pais da igreja não pensavam nisso e exprimem claramente a completa suficiência da Escritura: Ireneu diz que conhecemos a verdade pelos apóstolos, pelos quais o Evangelho chegou a nós, o qual eles então pregaram e depois, por vontade de Deus, nos transmitiram nas Escrituras, para que fosse fundamento e coluna da nossa fé. Ambas, Escritura e tradição, não se podem manter uma ao lado da outra: o que se retira de uma é conferido à outra. A tradição só pode subir se e na medida em que a Escritura desce.

21. Mas essa doutrina está em conflito direto com a própria Escritura. Nunca é a igreja, no Antigo e no Novo Testamento, remetida a outra coisa senão à palavra de Deus, sempre à mão, escrita ou não escrita. As Escrituras seguintes pressupõem as precedentes, ligam-se a elas e sobre elas se edificam: os profetas e os salmistas pressupõem a torah; Isaías chama a todos à lei e ao testemunho, Is 8.20; o Novo Testamento tem-se a si mesmo por cumprimento do Antigo e não remete a nada senão à Escritura existente. Fala ainda mais fortemente o fato de que tudo o que está fora da Escritura é excluído do modo mais decidido possível: as tradições são rejeitadas como mandamentos de homens, Mt 15.9. A tradição que surgiu nos dias do Antigo Testamento levou os judeus à rejeição do Cristo; Jesus contrapõe-lhe o seu "eu, porém, vos digo" e, precisamente contra os fariseus e escribas, liga-se de novo à lei e aos profetas. Na medida em que a tradição, no primeiro tempo, não queria ser outra coisa senão conservação do que fora pessoalmente ensinado e instituído pelos apóstolos, ela ainda não trazia caráter perigoso; mas disso a tradição romana degenerou por completo, e não é senão a sanção do estado de fato da igreja romana.

A suficiência da Escritura decorre ainda da natureza da dispensação neotestamentária. Cristo se fez carne e realizou toda a obra. Ele é a última e mais alta revelação de Deus; por meio dele Deus nos falou nestes últimos dias, Hb 1.1; ele é o mais alto, o único profeta. Mesmo o Concílio Vaticano reconhece que a assistentia divina conferida ao papa não consistia em revelação de uma nova doutrina. E Roma procura demonstrar os seus dogmas, por mais novos que sejam, sempre tanto quanto possível a partir da Escritura, e apresentá-los como desenvolvimento do que está em germe nela. Mas com isso enreda-se em dificuldade não pequena. Pois ou os dogmas são todos, no mesmo sentido em que o são a Trindade e as duas naturezas de Cristo, explicitação de momentos contidos na Escritura — e nesse caso a tradição é desnecessária e a Escritura suficiente; ou são de fato dogmas novos, que não têm apoio na Escritura — e então a assistentia divina do papa é essencialmente uma revelatio, revelação de nova doutrina. Este último ponto pode ainda ser negado teoricamente, mas na prática é aceito.

Que escritos proféticos e apostólicos se tenham perdido é sem consequência. Pois a questão é apenas se a Escritura que temos à mão contém tudo o que é necessário saber para a nossa salvação, e não se contém tudo o que profetas e apóstolos escreveram e o próprio Cristo falou e fez. Eles falaram e fizeram mais do que nos é descrito; o conhecimento disso seria historicamente importante, mas é religiosamente desnecessário. Temos o bastante na Escritura para a nossa salvação, e nenhum outro escrito, ainda que viesse do próprio Jesus, nos é mais necessário. Essa foi a doutrina da Reforma. Quantitativamente a revelação foi muito mais rica e maior do que a Escritura nos conservou; mas qualitativa e substancialmente a Sagrada Escritura é perfeitamente suficiente para a nossa salvação. Roma também não pode nomear outros dogmas senão os da mariolatria, da infalibilidade do papa e semelhantes, que tenham surgido da tradição à parte da Escritura; mas todos os que se referem a Deus, ao homem, a Cristo, à salvação, encontram-se, segundo a própria Roma, na Escritura. Que testemunhas, então, ainda nos são necessárias?

Cristo revelou tudo plenamente, ou pessoal e oralmente, ou pelo seu Espírito aos apóstolos. Pela palavra deles cremos em Cristo e temos comunhão com Deus, Jo 17.20. O Espírito Santo já não revela nova doutrina alguma; ele toma tudo de Cristo, Jo 16.14. Em Cristo a revelação de Deus está consumada. E igualmente a palavra da salvação está perfeitamente compreendida na Escritura. Ela forma um todo; dá ela mesma a impressão de um organismo que atingiu a plena maturidade. Termina onde começa. É um círculo que retorna a si mesmo: começa com a criação, termina com a recriação do céu e da terra. A obra de Cristo não precisa ser suplementada pelas boas obras dos crentes; a palavra de Cristo não precisa ser suplementada pela tradição da igreja; o próprio Cristo não precisa ser sucedido e substituído pelo papa. A doutrina romana da tradição é a negação da perfeita encarnação de Deus em Cristo, da suficiência plena do seu sacrifício, da perfeição da sua palavra. A história da igreja romana mostra-nos o processo lentamente continuado pelo qual um princípio falso se insinua e a princípio ainda se põe abaixo de Cristo e da sua palavra, depois se põe ao lado dela, logo se levanta acima dela, para terminar numa completa substituição da Escritura pela tradição, de Cristo pelo papa, da comunidade pelo instituto. Em todo caso, o caminho da deificação do homem por Roma ainda não foi percorrido até o fim.

22. Nem por isso, contudo, se nega tudo o que de bom e verdadeiro está encerrado na doutrina da tradição. A palavra tradição tem sentido mais amplo que o que Roma lhe dá. Roma entende por ela uma doutrina transmitida pelos apóstolos, conservada pelos bispos, especialmente pelo papa, e por ele determinada e proclamada; mas essa concepção mostrou-se insustentável. A tradição, porém, pode também ser entendida daquela vida religiosa inteira — pensar, sentir, agir — que se encontra em toda comunidade religiosa e acha a sua expressão em toda sorte de formas, costumes, usos, linguagem e literatura religiosas, confissão e liturgia. Nesse sentido há tradição em toda religião. E o conceito pode estender-se ainda mais, a todos aqueles ricos e múltiplos laços que ligam as gerações seguintes às precedentes: nesse sentido nenhuma família, nenhum povo, nenhuma arte, nenhuma ciência pode existir sem tradição. A tradição é o meio pelo qual todos os tesouros e bens dos antepassados são transferidos ao presente e ao futuro.

Uma tal tradição existe certamente também na religião e na igreja. Já a universalidade indica que não se trata aqui de um fenômeno acidental. Nas religiões superiores acresce ainda outra razão para a sua necessidade: todas estão ligadas a uma escritura sagrada, que surgiu num tempo determinado e nesse sentido vem, cada vez mais, a ficar mais distante da geração ora vivente. Também a Bíblia é um livro escrito em séculos há muito passados; os seus diversos livros trazem o caráter do tempo em que surgiram. Por mais clara que a Escritura seja na doutrina da salvação, e por mais que seja e permaneça a viva vox Dei, ela requer, contudo, para o reto entendimento, muitas vezes toda sorte de conhecimento histórico, arqueológico e geográfico. Os tempos mudaram, e com os tempos os homens, a sua vida, o seu pensar e o seu sentir. É necessária, portanto, uma tradição, para conservar a conexão entre a Escritura e a vida religiosa deste tempo. Tradição em bom sentido é a interpretação e a aplicação da verdade eterna na fala e na vida da geração presente. Uma Escritura sem tal tradição é impossível.

Muitas seitas tentaram-no de fato: não queriam saber de nada senão das palavras e letras da Escritura, rejeitavam toda terminologia dogmática não usada na Escritura e reprovavam toda formação e ciência teológicas. Mas todas essas direções condenaram-se com isso a uma ruína certa, ou ao menos a uma vida lânguida: põem-se fora da sociedade e carecem de toda influência sobre o seu povo e o seu tempo. A Escritura não está aí para ser decorada de fora e repetida como papagaio, mas para entrar na vida humana plena e rica e formá-la, guiá-la e conduzi-la a atividade independente em todo domínio. A Reforma pôs-se por isso em outro ponto de vista. Não rejeitou toda tradição como tal: foi reforma, não revolução. Não tentou criar tudo de novo, mas sim purificar tudo de erro e de abuso segundo a regra da palavra de Deus.

A diferença entre Roma e a Reforma na concepção da tradição consiste nisto: Roma quer uma tradição que corra independentemente ao lado da Escritura, uma traditio juxta Scripturam, ou antes ainda uma Scriptura juxta traditionem; a Reforma reconhece apenas uma tradição que se funda na Escritura e dela flui, uma traditio e Scriptura fluens. A Escritura era, segundo o pensamento da Reforma, um princípio orgânico do qual toda a tradição — vivendo na pregação, na confissão, na liturgia, no culto, na teologia, na literatura religiosa — cresceu e é nutrida. Quando Jesus consumou a sua obra, envia o Espírito Santo, que de fato nada acrescenta de novo à revelação, mas conduz a igreja à verdade, até que, através de toda diversidade, ela chegue à unidade da fé e do conhecimento do Filho de Deus, Ef 4.13. Nesse sentido há uma tradição boa, verdadeira e gloriosa: é o caminho pelo qual o Espírito Santo faz passar a verdade da Escritura à consciência e à vida da igreja. Pois a Escritura é apenas meio, e não fim. O fim é que a igreja, instruída pela Escritura, anuncie livre e independentemente as virtudes daquele que a chamou das trevas para a sua maravilhosa luz. O verbum externum é instrumento, o verbum internum é fim. A Escritura alcançou o seu destino quando todos forem ensinados pelo Senhor e cheios do Espírito Santo.

§ 13. O significado do princípio interno

1. Ao principium externum, tratado no capítulo anterior, deve corresponder no próprio homem um principium internum. Toda vida, como a define Spencer, consiste no ajustamento contínuo de relações internas a relações externas; e a vida do homem repousa inteira sobre uma correspondência recíproca entre sujeito e objeto. O homem depende em tudo do mundo fora dele; em nenhum domínio é autônomo, vive do que lhe é dado, isto é, da graça. Mas, reciprocamente, está adaptado a esse mundo inteiro e ligado a ele por toda sorte de relações: como anima sensitiva recebeu nos sentidos órgãos com que percebe o mundo exterior, e pelo logos que nele há eleva-se ao mundo das coisas inteligíveis. E assim também, religiosa e eticamente, o homem está em relação com um verdadeiro mundo de bens ideais e espirituais e recebeu uma facultas de perceber e conhecer esse mundo. A investigação sobre a essência da religião já nos conduziu antes a certa disposição religiosa no homem, a uma receptividade de sua natureza para perceber o divino. A Escritura o exprime dizendo que o homem foi criado à imagem de Deus, que é geração dele e que possui na mente um órgão para notar a revelação de Deus em sua criação. A religião pressupõe que o homem é aparentado com Deus.

Mas, ainda que essa receptividade religiosa seja própria da natureza humana, ela é uma abstração e nunca ocorre na realidade em estado puro e sem conteúdo. Tudo recebemos do círculo em que nascemos e fomos criados, e também a religião nos é impressa por nossos pais e educadores. Ela cresce desde a infância junto com a vida mais íntima e mais terna, e é por isso quase inextirpável. A regra é que se morre na religião em que se nasceu; salvo em tempos de crise religiosa, como no surgimento do cristianismo, do islamismo, da Reforma, as conversões são raras, e a mudança de religião é a exceção. A maioria vive e morre sem jamais ter sido abalada por dúvida séria em sua fé religiosa; a pergunta por que creem na verdade das representações religiosas em que foram criados não lhes ocorre ao pensamento. Se a fé é forte, não há lugar para tal investigação: primum vivere, deinde philosophari. Não é prova de riqueza, mas de pobreza da vida religiosa, que a maior atenção seja dedicada às questões formais: quando a força filosófica de pensamento se esgota, lança-se à história da filosofia; e quando a fé perde o seu poder e a sua confiança, institui-se uma investigação sobre os fundamentos em que ela repousa.

2. Tal investigação tem, contudo, o seu lado bom e útil. Desde que Kant transformou toda a filosofia numa crítica da faculdade de conhecer, ninguém desprezará as investigações dedicadas à natureza e à certeza do nosso conhecimento. Mas a expectativa demasiado tensa é aqui sempre seguida de decepção: os problemas são tão complicados que a solução parece inatingível. Também na teologia e na religião há razão para advertir contra expectativas exageradas. A teoria do conhecimento não compensa a fé; a pars formalis da dogmática não pode substituir a pars materialis.

A investigação sobre os fundamentos do crer é, aliás, muito mais difícil do que a investigação sobre os fundamentos do saber. Em primeiro lugar, é em geral impossível aos crentes prestar contas a si mesmos, em sentido científico, das razões por que creem: a sua vida a partir da fé é, para eles próprios, prova bastante da verdade e do valor dessa fé. Além disso, é exigência exagerada, mesmo aos teólogos científicos, que provem de antemão o direito científico da teoria do conhecimento de que partem, antes que lhes seja lícito dar começo ao trabalho teológico, como quer Ritschl. Um teólogo não é, afinal, um filósofo; ainda que a formação filosófica lhe seja indispensável, não precisa ter investigado antes todas as teorias filosóficas do conhecimento para poder apresentar-se como teólogo. A teologia traz consigo a sua própria teoria do conhecimento e é dependente da filosofia, mas não de nenhum sistema filosófico. E, por fim, o objeto da investigação jaz aqui tão profundamente escondido na vida da alma e está tão intimamente entretecido com as moções mais finas do coração humano, que escapa quase inteiramente à nossa própria observação e muito mais ainda à observação alheia. A religião está enraizada na natureza humana mais fundo do que qualquer outro poder: por ela o homem abandona tudo, os seus bens, a sua mulher e o seu filho, o seu nome, a sua honra, a sua vida; só a religião tem testemunhas de sangue, mártires. Quem, então, poderá rastrear a raiz dessa vida, que é uma só com a vida do homem, e pôr a nu o fundamento sobre o qual repousa o crer? A pergunta como e por que conheço é tão difícil que toda a força filosófica de pensamento ainda não lhe achou resposta; mais difícil ainda é a pergunta como e por que creio. Para nós mesmos é um enigma, pois não podemos descer às profundezas do nosso próprio espírito nem penetrar com o olhar na escuridão que jaz por trás da nossa consciência. E para os outros é ocultação ainda maior: valem para nós, como fundamentos da fé, toda sorte de disposições e emoções, ponderações e afetos que acompanham a fé e nos prendem inseparavelmente ao objeto dela; mas essas não as podemos comunicar a ninguém, e, quando o tentamos, perdem sob a comunicação a sua força e o seu valor. E, no entanto, a fé, apesar de todo raciocínio, mantém-se e diz: não posso fazer de outro modo, Deus me ajude, amém.

3. Não surpreende, portanto, que os fundamentos da fé religiosa, e assim também da fé cristã, sejam indicados de modo muito diverso. Alguns julgam que o homem possui em si mesmo, em sua própria natureza, dados suficientes para discernir, julgar e aceitar uma representação religiosa, a revelação, a Escritura. Ora se busca o órgão desse juízo e dessa aceitação no entendimento — e a fé repousa então sobre fundamentos histórico-apologéticos; ora se indica a razão como tal órgão — e a fé é edificada sobre o raciocínio especulativo; ora se tem a consciência moral, a disposição, o coração por órgão do divino — e a fé assenta então sobre motivos ético-práticos. Mas sempre se pressupõe, nessas direções, um homem que porventura foi de algum modo preparado para a revelação, mas que de fato ainda está fora da fé e diante do qual a revelação precisa agora justificar-se por via intelectual ou moral.

A investigação seguinte ensinará que esses fundamentos são insuficientes. Mas já a priori se deixa ver a inadequação desses métodos. A religião é uma grandeza independente, essencialmente distinta da ciência, da arte e da moral; tem o seu próprio principium cognoscendi externum, a saber, a revelação, e exige por isso também o seu próprio principium cognoscendi internum: à revelação objetiva deve corresponder no homem um órgão subjetivo. A receptividade religiosa em geral, a semen religionis, não pode entrar em consideração para isso, pois nunca ocorre em estado puro e, sobretudo, porque a revelação parte na Escritura do pressuposto de que o homem está corrompido também nessa sua disposição religiosa e carece de recriação. Ela destruiria a si mesma se reconhecesse no homem psíquico o seu juiz competente. Põe-se diante dele numa relação inteiramente outra: não se coloca abaixo dele nem se submete ao seu juízo, mas está muito acima dele e nada pede senão fé e obediência. A Escritura declara expressamente que o homem psíquico não entende as coisas do Espírito de Deus, que elas lhe são loucura, que as rejeita e as desconhece com inimizade. A revelação de Deus em Cristo não pede apoio nem justificação dos homens: põe-se e mantém-se em alta majestade, e a sua auctoritas é normativa mas também causativa — ela mesma luta pelo seu triunfo, conquista para si os corações e faz-se irresistível.

Por isso a revelação se reparte em duas grandes dispensações. Terminada a economia do Filho, a da revelação objetiva, entra a do Espírito. Também dessa revelação subjetiva Deus é o autor; dele procede a ação, ele é o primeiro e o último. O homem não vem à revelação e não busca a Deus; Deus busca o homem, busca-o no Filho e busca-o também no Espírito. Se Deus nos falou nestes últimos dias pelo Filho, vem então o Espírito Santo, que toma perante o mundo a causa de Cristo, defende a sua palavra e inclina à obediência os corações dos homens. O Espírito Santo é a grande e poderosa Testemunha de Cristo, objetivamente na Escritura, subjetivamente no espírito do próprio homem. Nesse Espírito recebe o homem um órgão adequado para a revelação exterior. Deus só pode ser conhecido por Deus; só na sua luz se vê a luz: ninguém pode dizer que Jesus é o Senhor senão pelo Espírito Santo. Deus é, pois, o principium essendi da religião e da teologia; a revelação objetiva em Cristo, depositada na Escritura, é o seu principium cognoscendi externum; e o Espírito Santo, que foi derramado na congregação, a regenera e a conduz à verdade, é o seu principium cognoscendi internum. Nesse testemunho do Espírito Santo a revelação se fecha e alcança o seu alvo, pois é o beneplácito de Deus recriar a humanidade à sua imagem e semelhança. A revelação objetiva não basta; ela deve continuar e completar-se na revelação subjetiva. Mais ainda: aquela é apenas meio, esta é fim. O principium externum é instrumental; o principium internum é o principium formale e principale.

Por isso a igreja cristã fez em todos os tempos confissão do testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Deus é o autor da revelação externa, mas é também aquele que elege a congregação, funda a igreja e nela dá testemunho de Cristo; a Escritura é a sua palavra, a congregação é o seu templo. Nisso há unanimidade na confissão de todas as igrejas: não o homem natural, mas somente o homem espiritual conhece as coisas que por Deus lhe foram dadas. De resto, porém, há grande diferença acerca desse testemunho, sobretudo entre a igreja de Roma e as igrejas da Reforma. Segundo Roma, a Escritura é dada à igreja como instituto, e só por meio dela aos crentes: a igreja recebe, conserva, autoriza e explica a Escritura, e toda revelação de Deus aos crentes é mediada pelo instituto, que está sempre entre Deus e os crentes. A igreja é mediadora, medium gratiae, principium externum; ela é o templo do Espírito Santo, e o testimonium Spiritus Sancti se exprime em Roma somente pela ecclesia docens, pelo magistério, pelo papa. Segundo a Reforma, porém, a revelação, a Escritura, é dada também à igreja, mas à igreja como organismo, à congregação, aos crentes. Eles é que são o templo do Espírito Santo; o testimonium Spiritus Sancti é propriedade de todos os crentes, e onde dois ou três estão reunidos em nome de Jesus, ali está ele no meio deles. Em Roma o instituto é a essência da igreja; segundo a Reforma, ele é um auxílio temporário, e a essência da igreja está na assembleia dos crentes: essa é a habitação de Deus, o corpo de Cristo, o templo do Espírito Santo.

§ 14. O método histórico-apologético

1. Mal o cristianismo penetrou no mundo greco-romano, viu-se chamado a uma luta séria, e no século II surgiram os apologistas, que avançaram em favor de sua verdade os seguintes argumentos: a) entre duas coisas incertas, é mais seguro crer naquela que traz alguma esperança do que naquela que não traz nenhuma; b) a concordância do cristianismo com o que há de melhor entre os pagãos, com as "sementes da verdade" que também neles se encontram pela operação do Logos; c) a excelência do cristianismo sobre as religiões pagãs, tal que toda alma humana involuntariamente lhe dá testemunho; d) a influência moral do cristianismo sobre a doutrina e sobre a vida; e) a constância dos mártires e a santidade dos ascetas; f) as predições e o seu cumprimento; g) os milagres, não só no tempo antigo mas também no presente; h) o caráter e a vida santos de Jesus e dos apóstolos; i) o testemunho da Escritura, a concordância das Escrituras entre si, a linguagem simples e o conteúdo divino que nenhuma razão humana poderia produzir; e, finalmente, j) o testemunho da tradição e da igreja.

Esses argumentos obtiveram desde então cidadania geral na teologia cristã. O conteúdo das verdades sobrenaturais era incompreensível à razão, diz Tomás; tanto mais importava provar que Deus se havia revelado. Todas as provas que se podiam aduzir para isso foram resumidas sob o nome de rationes inductivae ou motiva credibilitatis. Depois da Reforma desenvolveu-se sobretudo o argumento tirado da igreja: em Roma a igreja tornou-se cada vez mais fundamentum et regula fidei, e entre os motiva ela ocupa o primeiro e o mais alto lugar, com as quinze notae enumeradas por Belarmino. O Concílio Vaticano declarou que a própria Igreja, por sua propagação admirável, sua eminente santidade, sua unidade católica e sua estabilidade invicta, é um grande e perpétuo motivum credibilitatis e um testemunho irrefragável de sua missão divina.

O valor de todas essas provas, também da tirada da igreja, consiste em que podem demonstrar a credibilidade da revelação. São capazes de produzir uma fides humana e de provar a razoabilidade de crer; tornam a verdade da revelação clara em tal grau que toda dúvida razoável fica excluída. Não fazem a revelação evidenter vera — pois então nenhuma fé seria já necessária —, mas sim evidenter credibilis. A maioria dos teólogos romanos reconheceu que todas elas eram apenas motivos e não constituíam o último e mais profundo fundamento da fé. Este só pode ser a autoridade de Deus. E essa fé na revelação, com base na autoridade de Deus, não se produz por aquelas provas, mas por um auxilium dei, um instinctus interior, que move a vontade à fé. Também o Concílio Vaticano reconheceu, de um lado, que a fé é uma virtus supernaturalis pela qual, inspirando e ajudando a graça de Deus, cremos serem verdadeiras as coisas por ele reveladas, não por causa da verdade intrínseca das coisas percebida pela luz natural da razão, mas por causa da autoridade do próprio Deus que revela; de outro, atribuiu grande valor aos argumentos apologéticos e condenou quem dissesse que a revelação divina não pode tornar-se crível por sinais externos.

Essa valorização da apologética em Roma está em coerência com todo o sistema. A revelação sobrenatural é erguida sobre o fundamento da natural, e a esta só se chega por degraus. O homem in puris naturalibus chega primeiro, por provas, à theologia naturalis: estes são os praeambula fidei, e aqui é possível até ciência. Quem chegou até aí pode em seguida, pelos motiva credibilitatis e sobretudo pelos signa e notae ecclesiae, ver a credibilidade da revelação. E, obtida assim a fides humana, e tendo o homem se preparado pelos actus praeparatorii, é ele pela gratia infusa elevado à ordem sobrenatural e prepara-se de novo, pelas boas obras, para a visio Dei. Pura naturalia, theologia naturalis, motiva credibilitatis, actus praeparatorii, gratia infusa, bona opera, visio Dei formam os degraus da escada que se apoia na terra e alcança o céu.

2. A Reforma combateu em princípio essa hierarquia e adotou outro ponto de partida. Não se pôs na razão natural, para conduzi-la sucessivamente até a fé, mas na fé cristã, e declarou do modo mais decidido que essa fé repousa unicamente na autoridade de Deus e é operada unicamente pelo Espírito Santo. Mas os teólogos protestantes nem sempre mantiveram estritamente esse princípio e voltaram repetidas vezes às provas históricas da verdade da revelação: Calvino diz que lhe seria fácil provar a divindade da Sagrada Escritura, e aduz para isso vários fundamentos. A convicção de que essas provas bastavam para produzir ao menos uma fides humana contribuiu involuntariamente para emancipar a razão da fé e para colocar os dogmas da teologia natural e da Sagrada Escritura fora da fides salvifica. Com isso começou o racionalismo nas igrejas protestantes: o socinianismo rejeitou o testimonium Spiritus Sancti e fundou a verdade do cristianismo em provas históricas, e o remonstrantismo seguiu o mesmo caminho. Por Descartes o racionalismo penetrou também nas igrejas reformadas: a teologia natural passou a estar independentemente ao lado da revelada, e dentro desta concedeu-se à razão o direito de investigar as credenciais da revelação — Leibniz exprimiu a opinião geralmente dominante ao pôr a revelação diante da razão como um enviado diante de uma assembleia competente, que examina as suas credenciais. O deísmo na Inglaterra e o racionalismo na Alemanha logo inferiram daí que a teologia natural era inteiramente suficiente. E o supranaturalismo, que concedera a emancipação da razão, não podia comparecer diante dessa razão senão com provas históricas e racionais; reencontramos ainda o mesmo ponto de vista em Van Oosterzee, que buscou salvação numa apologética que precedesse a dogmática, e em Doedes, que por investigação isenta e puramente histórica quer chegar a conhecer o cristianismo.

3. Mas esse ponto de vista mostrou-se insustentável pela história do próprio supranaturalismo e pela crítica aguda de Rousseau e Lessing, de Kant e Schleiermacher. A apologética tem, sem dúvida, direito de existir; foi-lhe confiada a tarefa de manter e defender a verdade de Deus contra toda oposição, de dentro e de fora, e caiu em desprezo imerecido pela fraqueza dos argumentos que apresentava e pelo pressuposto de que o cristianismo era uma doutrina demonstrável racionalmente. Não há razão para desprezá-la: os apologistas do segundo século, os pais da igreja, os escolásticos, os reformadores estiveram todos na fé firme de que a verdade de Deus podia e devia ser defendida, e essa fé já é uma força e quase meia vitória.

Mas com isso fica indicado também o ponto de vista único a partir do qual se pode empreender uma boa defesa da verdade. A apologética não pode preceder a fé nem tenta provar a priori a verdade da revelação. Pressupõe a verdade e a fé na verdade; está sobre o fundamento da dogmática e procura então manter e defender o dogma contra a oposição a que é submetido. Se, ao contrário, a revelação cristã, que pressupõe a treva e o erro do homem psíquico, se submetesse de antemão ao juízo da razão dele, contradir-se-ia a si mesma: colocar-se-ia diante de um tribunal cuja competência primeiro negara. E, uma vez reconhecido o direito da razão nos principia, logo não poderia mais contestá-lo nos articuli fidei. O supranaturalismo tem de conduzir sempre ao racionalismo, porque em princípio já é racionalista.

Mas, à parte essa objeção de princípio, também a prova histórico-apologética não conduz ao resultado desejado. Os milagres e as profecias da Escritura carecem agora eles mesmos de tal modo de defesa, que já não podem servir de argumentos. A apologética, para provar alguma coisa, teria primeiro de tratar toda a chamada ciência introdutória e de recolher em si numerosas outras disciplinas, antes de poder começar a exposição da verdade; jamais chegaria por esse caminho à dogmática: a pars formalis se dilataria tanto que para a pars materialis não restariam tempo nem lugar. Esse longo caminho seria, ademais, totalmente inacessível ao homem simples, que não menos que o douto, e não amanhã mas já agora, tem necessidade da paz e do consolo da fé, e que por isso se tornaria dependente de um clericalismo intelectual tanto mais insuportável. E, ainda que a investigação histórica fosse para todos o único caminho, o resultado obtido nas circunstâncias mais favoráveis não seria outro senão uma fides humana, que amanhã de novo poderia ser derrubada por outras e melhores investigações. Na religião nenhuma criatura pode estar entre Deus e a minha alma; viver e morrer consolado não é possível enquanto eu repousar num testemunho humano e falível. Na religião há necessidade não de uma certeza menor, mas de uma muito mais forte e mais firme do que na ciência. Aqui só há repouso no testemunho de Deus.

Também o testemunho da igreja é insuficiente. Ele é de grande valor não só na origem, mas também na continuação da fé cristã; permanece um apoio até o fim da vida, um motivum perpetuum para a fé, pois estamos ligados em toda a nossa vida a uma comunidade, e é preciso coragem incomum para permanecer firme quando todos nos abandonam. Ainda assim, o testemunho da igreja não pode ser o último e mais profundo fundamento da fé, e os próprios teólogos romanos o reconhecem. Na investigação dos fundamentos da fé eles não estão de modo algum em melhor condição, com a sua igreja infalível, do que os protestantes. Pois também eles têm de pôr a pergunta: em que repousa a fé na igreja? Se em provas apologéticas, valem contra isso as mesmas objeções levantadas acima. E, se no testimonium Spiritus Sancti, então essa doutrina é a pedra angular da fé cristã.

§ 15. O método especulativo

1. O supranaturalismo caiu sob os golpes de Rousseau e Kant, de Lessing e Schleiermacher, e em toda parte o classicismo cedeu ao romantismo, ao domínio e à autonomia do sujeito. No primeiro período a reação foi ao ponto de eliminar tudo quanto era objetivo e de ter o sujeito por suficiente a si mesmo: o sujeito produz, se não a matéria (Fichte), ao menos a forma (Kant) do mundo. Mas esse idealismo absoluto conduziu a consequências terríveis, e havia de existir algo objetivo, que se mantivesse firme e tivesse autoridade. Veio assim a restauração, isto é, a tentativa de, conservando o mesmo ponto de partida, voltar do sujeito ao objetivo; e dessa restauração Hegel foi o porta-voz filosófico. Elevou o idealismo subjetivo de Fichte a um idealismo objetivo e lógico e substituiu a ideia do ser pela do devir: o mundo inteiro tornou-se processo, desdobramento da ideia lógica. Nessa evolução também a religião tem o seu lugar, mas vela-se em formas e símbolos que só a razão especulativa entende em seu sentido profundo. O racionalismo nada compreendia disso e simplesmente punha de lado os dogmas da igreja; ora, esses dogmas estão cheios de sentido filosófico profundo. O espírito de Hegel lançou-se sobre eles, despiu-os de suas formas históricas e simbólicas e rastreou neles a ideia: a história é apenas a casca, o cerne é a filosofia. Não as doutrinas racionalistas — Deus, virtude, imortalidade —, mas os dogmas mais altos do cristianismo, a Trindade, a encarnação, a satisfação, tornam-se objeto de ousada especulação. Fora da Escritura e fora de toda autoridade, esses dogmas são deduzidos da razão como necessários e provados como sumamente racionais; a fé era transformada pela razão especulativa em saber absoluto. O método foi aplicado à dogmática, com resultados bem diversos, por Daub, Marheineke, Strauss e, por último, Biedermann, que não aceita o método a priori de Hegel, mas que, partindo dos dogmas cristãos, tenta do mesmo modo analisá-los no princípio religioso que lhes está à base e na expressão histórica que assumiram.

2. Mas esse método encontrou aceitação igualmente na escola de Schleiermacher. Schleiermacher tinha em comum com Hegel o ponto de partida subjetivo, mas tomava posição não na razão e sim no sentimento: a religião é uma determinação peculiar do sentimento, da consciência imediata de si; não concebia esse sentimento individualmente, mas historicamente, tal como existia numa comunidade religiosa; e não via na dogmática desenvolvimento especulativo algum, mas apenas descrição dos estados piedosos de alma. Por outro lado, na Breve exposição deu o primeiro lugar à teologia filosófica, incumbida de determinar a essência do cristianismo: de fato, em Schleiermacher a teologia tornou-se inteiramente dependente da filosofia. A teologia de mediação (Vermittelungstheologie) tomou com ele o seu ponto de vista na consciência, na fé, na confissão da congregação, mas combinou com isso o método especulativo de Hegel, a fim de elevar a fé a saber e de fazer a autoridade ceder à intelecção racional independente. Entre os teólogos da mediação há grande diversidade, mas todos têm em comum o ponto de partida e o método: partem não de uma autoridade qualquer, mas da consciência cristã da congregação, e buscam a prova da verdade da fé não no apelo a uma autoridade, mas na evidência interna, na necessidade lógica.

3. Também fora do círculo dos que se prendem a Hegel e a Schleiermacher esse método encontrou aceitação. Hofmann não concebe a dogmática como descrição de estados de alma, nem como reprodução da doutrina da Escritura ou da igreja, mas parte da piedade cristã: a dogmática é o desdobramento daquilo que faz do cristão um cristão, e "o conhecimento e o enunciado do cristianismo são, antes de tudo, conhecimento de si e enunciado de si do cristão". Foi sobretudo Frank quem assumiu e elaborou esse pensamento. Hofmann tomara posição no estado de fato da comunhão de Deus com o homem: esta repousa em si e traz em si a certeza, e ali não havia lugar para um sistema da certeza cristã. Frank não para aí; procura dar conta de por que o cristão crê tudo aquilo que a sua fé contém, e constrói um Sistema da certeza cristã. A teologia, diz ele, deve, à diferença da filosofia, colocar-se não fora, mas no meio da consciência cristã, e de lá examinar e julgar tudo. A certeza cristã não tem o seu fundamento em provas externas nem numa autoridade externa, mas no próprio cristão, em sua experiência moral e em sua autodeterminação; e essa experiência é a regeneração e a conversão. Dessa experiência ele põe então, por si e de uma vez, todo o conteúdo da verdade cristã, em virtude da natureza da vida nova que lhe foi concedida. Em três círculos essa verdade de fé se agrupa em torno da regeneração: as verdades imanentes, dadas direta e imediatamente com o fato da regeneração — a realidade do pecado, da justiça e da perfeição futura; as verdades transcendentes, que indicam os fatores que produziram nele aquela mudança moral — o Deus pessoal, a Trindade, a reconciliação obtida pelo Deus-homem; e as verdades transeuntes, que indicam os meios pelos quais aqueles fatores efetuam a experiência da salvação — igreja, palavra de Deus, Escritura, sacramento, milagres, revelação e inspiração.

4. Esse método especulativo teve vantagens importantes sobre o método apologético do período racionalista. O racionalismo mudara a revelação em doutrina, a igreja em escola, a regeneração em melhoramento moral, o Cristo crucificado no sábio de Nazaré; foi preciso coragem, como a de Schleiermacher e Hegel, para voltar à congregação e aos seus dogmas e descobrir neles verdade religiosa profunda. Mais ainda: havia no ponto de partida de ambos uma verdade gloriosa. Pensar e ser estão intimamente aparentados e correspondem um ao outro. Ambos viram que a religião ocupa lugar próprio na vida humana, que forma uma grandeza independente e que por isso exige também na natureza humana o seu órgão correspondente — diferiram na indicação desse órgão, um buscando-o na razão, o outro no sentimento, mas ambos se ergueram acima do racionalismo vulgar e apontaram para a harmonia entre sujeito e objeto. Pois o objetivo não existe para nós senão na medida em que vem à nossa consciência; não há como abordá-lo por outro caminho.

Mas Hegel e Schleiermacher não se contentaram com a proposição de que pensar e ser se correspondem: identificaram um com o outro. Essa identificação é o erro primordial da filosofia especulativa. A grande questão é esta: pensamos algo porque ele existe, ou algo existe porque temos de pensá-lo necessária e logicamente? A filosofia especulativa disse o segundo. Mas entre pensar e ser, por maior que seja a concordância, há uma distinção não menos essencial. Do pensar não se conclui ao ser, porque o ser de todas as criaturas não é emanação do pensamento, mas repousa num ato de poder: a essência das coisas há de ser atribuída ao pensar; a existência, somente à vontade de Deus. O pensar humano pressupõe, pois, o ser; ele se levanta primeiro sobre o fundamento do criado, e só podemos repensar o que já foi pensado antes por nós e chega à nossa consciência pelo mundo. Se, porém, se rejeita todo material que nos vem de fora e se toma como ponto de partida a razão pura ou o sentimento abstrato, nada resta, ou quando muito um princípio tão vazio e vago que dele nada se pode derivar — muito menos a inteira revelação e religião cristã.

A filosofia de Hegel não era, portanto, tão inocente quanto podia parecer: era a aplicação da proposição de Fichte, de que o eu põe o não-eu, de que o sujeito cria o objeto. Schleiermacher voltou na teologia a esse princípio porque para ele toda autoridade em religião havia caído, as provas racionais e históricas não o satisfaziam e Deus, em sua opinião, era incognoscível à razão. Daí se seguia que a dogmática não podia ser outra coisa senão descrição de estados de alma: a teologia tornou-se antropologia, pisteologia, eclesiologia, e deixou de ser o que sempre pretendera ser, conhecimento de Deus. Mas também em religião não é a realidade que nos importa, e sim a verdade; a justificação do cristianismo foi por isso atribuída à filosofia. A teologia de mediação assumiu esse ponto de partida e chegou por si mesma à aliança com o método dialético de Hegel: não bastava constatar o fato da fé, era preciso demonstrar também o direito e a verdade da fé, e, porque não se tinha outra prova, recorreu-se à especulação. Aspirava-se a um conhecimento do cristianismo mais alto do que aquele que repousa na autoridade e se obtém pela fé: era uma renovação do velho gnosticismo. Os dogmas cristãos não deviam apenas ser confessados como artigos de fé, mas ser penetrados e compreendidos em sua necessidade; o que não basta, é preciso entender também o como e o porquê. Partia-se da fé, mas punha-se o saber por meta; a necessidade de pensamento era a prova da verdade.

Que esse método não levaria a resultado desejável era previsível, e a história o provou de modo contundente. A filosofia de Hegel levou, em Feuerbach e Strauss, à rejeição de toda a fé cristã. A teologia de mediação, mais ortodoxa, não correspondeu de modo algum à expectativa que despertara: não conseguiu mudar a loucura da cruz numa sabedoria do mundo, nem ganhar de novo para Cristo, com suas reflexões profundas, os filhos deste século; ao contrário, a mediação resultou numa separação ainda mais radical entre crer e saber, entre teologia e filosofia, entre congregação e mundo. A especulação partia, além disso, do pressuposto incorreto de que o cristianismo fosse um sistema lógico de pensamentos, de cujo primeiro membro todos os seguintes se pudessem derivar pelo raciocinar. Mas se o ser das coisas já não repousa no pensar e sim no querer, muito mais se distingue de um sistema lógico a religião cristã. Pois o cristianismo é história, é história da graça, e a graça é algo diverso e algo mais do que uma conclusão lógica. Na religião cristã, portanto, nem o pensador mais profundo ultrapassa jamais o ponto de vista infantil da autoridade e da fé.

5. A teologia de Frank merece discussão à parte. Ele combate com toda a força os chamados prolegômenos da dogmática e põe em seu lugar um Sistema da certeza cristã. O título não é lá muito claro: a certeza é um estado da alma e, como tal, exclui sistema. Ele mesmo se explica melhor — o sistema tem por objeto a certeza enquanto se estende ao conteúdo de verdade a ser garantido, isto é, a certeza como estado psicológico com tudo aquilo de que ela assegura. Não é intenção de Frank que os objetos da fé cristã não existissem de antemão: declara expressamente o contrário, e diz que depois de completado todo o sistema da certeza se segue uma inversão, e que o último se torna o primeiro. A sua intenção é apenas responder à pergunta: como chega um ser humano a apoiar-se naqueles fatores objetivos da salvação — Deus, Cristo, a Sagrada Escritura? Frank desenvolve não tanto os fundamentos da fé quanto os caminhos pelos quais o homem chega à certeza; e diz que o homem obtém essa certeza não por provas históricas ou racionais, e tampouco por autoridade, igreja ou tradição, mas unicamente pela experiência da regeneração.

A pergunta que Frank se propôs responder é da maior importância, pois a certeza cristã não se explica por si e está muitas vezes sujeita à dúvida. Mas há razão para duvidar de que o seu sistema corresponda a essa boa intenção, porque o sistema como tal está em conflito com a intenção declarada. Se Frank não quisesse senão descrever como o crente chega à certeza, teria trazido à luz apenas a origem e a natureza dessa certeza e teria terminado aí, sem discutir o seu conteúdo — mas então também não teria sido possível sistema algum. Frank, porém, dá um sistema: deriva sucessivamente da regeneração todas as verdades da fé, não em sentido temporal, mas em sentido lógico e causal, fazendo o cristão chegar aos poucos, da experiência da regeneração, a todos os dogmas, "como se" ele antes, por outro caminho, nada soubesse deles. Fica-nos a impressão de que todas essas verdades podem ser derivadas pelo cristão de sua regeneração, à parte da Escritura e da igreja. Frank confunde continuamente a causa essendi com a causa cognoscendi, o fundamento objetivo da verdade da fé com o caminho subjetivo pelo qual alguém chega à certeza dela; troca e identifica verdade objetiva e certeza subjetiva, e fala de uma autonomia do sujeito cristão como garante da verdade.

6. Tudo isso radica numa peculiar teoria do conhecimento. Frank vai um bom trecho com o idealismo da filosofia moderna: o objeto como objeto, isto é, para o sujeito, só está presente por aquele pôr do sujeito; o nosso conhecimento nunca tem que ver com a coisa em si e por si, e sim sempre com a coisa para nós. Que atribuamos ao objeto uma existência em si provém de nos vermos forçados a pô-lo assim e não de outro modo. Por esse raciocínio não vamos além disto: que a nossa mente é constituída de tal maneira que precisa admitir a realidade objetiva dos objetos de que está certa; se, porém, a mente humana faz isso com direito e não padece de alucinação, para Frank não é questão. A necessidade do pôr é para ele o fundamento último da realidade objetiva.

Essa teoria do conhecimento Frank aplica também à fé cristã: as verdades e os fatos objetivos do cristianismo precedem a fé essencial e causalmente, mas em sentido epistemológico a seguem. Contra esse ponto de partida há, porém, muitas objeções. a) A regeneração do cristão, e igualmente todas as suas demais experiências espirituais, inclusive a sua certeza, não surgiram espontaneamente nele, mas estão desde o princípio e continuamente em conexão com os fatores objetivos da Escritura e da igreja; o próprio Frank o reconhece, mas então, indevidamente, desprende a experiência espiritual a priori desses fatores, para fazê-la repousar em si mesma. O seu ponto de partida é mera abstração. b) Ao reconhecer que a ordem depois se inverte, Frank concede ele mesmo que a regeneração não oferece certeza suficiente para a verdade objetiva da fé cristã; pois se a ordem objetiva e causal é tal que o objetivo precede, então esta deve ser também a ordem de todo o sistema. O sistema há de ser uma impressão da ordem do ser, e não do modo como alguém chega ao conhecimento — pois esse modo é tão diverso que não comporta descrição sistemática alguma. c) O método pelo qual Frank constrói os dogmas objetivos a partir da certeza do cristão é tomado de empréstimo à filosofia especulativa e não cabe na teologia cristã: assim como aquela tomava por ponto de partida um princípio geral, abstraído de tudo, vago, assim a consciência de si do cristão, desprendida de todos os fatores objetivos, é para Frank o cogito ergo sum, o "dai-me um ponto de apoio". d) Esse método está em conflito com toda experiência cristã: assim jamais cristão algum chegou à certeza da verdade objetiva. É, ademais, impraticável, pois na dúvida e na incredulidade falta ao cristão precisamente aquela certeza que, segundo Frank, é a única a garantir-lhe a verdade objetiva de sua fé; em tais tempos ele carece justamente de uma palavra objetiva, de um ato objetivo, ao qual se possa agarrar para erguer-se do fundo da tentação. e) A distinção de um duplo eu no regenerado está sujeita a mal-entendidos: na regeneração não se cria no homem um eu novo, mas o eu do homem psíquico é renovado. E a divisão da dogmática em sistema da certeza e sistema da verdade não se sustenta, porque a certeza do cristão não pode ser descrita sem a verdade a que se aplica. O que fica dito basta para mostrar que a acusação de subjetivismo não foi levantada de todo injustamente contra a teologia de Frank, tal como contra a de Ritschl.

§ 16. O método ético-psicológico

1. Além das provas históricas e do raciocínio especulativo, há ainda um terceiro caminho pelo qual se procurou justificar a fé cristã: o método ético-psicológico. Ele não concebe o cristianismo como doutrina que se possa demonstrar, nem como fato histórico que se possa provar, mas como um poder religioso-ético que se dirige ao coração e à consciência. Por isso tampouco julga que o cristianismo possa tornar-se aceitável a todo homem sem distinção e em todas as circunstâncias: exige no homem uma disposição moral prévia, um senso para o bem, uma necessidade de redenção, um sentimento de insatisfação. E quando o cristianismo entra em contato com um homem assim, recomenda-se à sua consciência como verdade divina, sem raciocínio e sem prova. Pois satisfaz as suas necessidades religioso-éticas, reconcilia-o consigo mesmo, liberta-o da culpa e do peso do pecado, concede-lhe paz, consolo, bem-aventurança — e em tudo isso prova-se como o poder e a sabedoria de Deus.

Essa prova da verdade do cristianismo é antiquíssima, e o supranaturalismo, ao dividir as provas em externas e internas, entendia por estas últimas justamente aquelas que mostravam a concordância do cristianismo com a natureza racional e moral do homem e que tinham força sobretudo para o coração e a consciência; via também que davam certeza não matemática mas moral, e que por isso pressupunham do lado do homem certa disposição moral. Foi porém sobretudo por Pascal e Vinet que o método chegou às honras. Em ambos ele ainda não se opunha à demonstração histórica: as provas históricas formam mesmo um elemento necessário na apologia de Pascal, mas ele lhes atribuiu outro lugar e outro significado. A sua apologia é antropológica: parte da miséria do homem e quer despertar nele a necessidade de redenção; e mostra em seguida que essa necessidade não encontra satisfação nas religiões pagãs nem nos sistemas filosóficos, mas somente na religião cristã. Também Vinet não desdenhava as provas históricas, mas julga-as insuficientes e atribui valor maior à prova interior: quer que o apologista siga o caminho ético e recomende o cristianismo pelo seu lado ético, como a verdadeira humanidade, à consciência do homem. Desde então esse método, com desprezo por vezes declarado das provas históricas, foi adotado por vários teólogos de língua francesa, holandesa e alemã.

2. Aparentado a esse método está a prova moral, tal como Kant a apresentou. Em virtude da peculiaridade de ascender do condicionado ao incondicionado, a razão teórica forma ideias absolutas, transcendentes, produzidas por ela não arbitrariamente, mas segundo a sua natureza; essas ideias são principalmente três: Deus, liberdade e imortalidade. Elas não podem ser demonstradas na sua verdade objetiva; os seus objetos não são perceptíveis e, portanto, não são conhecíveis: não aumentam o nosso conhecimento, apenas o regulam, e nos fazem considerar tudo "como se" tivessem realidade. Mas a razão não é apenas teórica; é também prática, isto é, traz em si uma lei moral, um imperativo categórico, e nos põe diante o dever. Revela assim que o homem pertence ainda a outra ordem que não a da natureza, e que tem de aspirar a um bem supremo que não consiste em outra coisa senão na unidade de virtude e felicidade. Ora, se esse mandamento do dever não é ilusão, e se o bem supremo há de um dia ser alcançado — se a ordem moral do mundo em nós e fora de nós há de um dia triunfar sobre a ordem da natureza —, então Deus, liberdade e imortalidade têm de existir. São, pois, postulados da razão prática: a sua realidade é exigida pela lei moral.

Mas essa teoria não está acima de crítica. A objeção de mais peso é esta: qual o fundamento sobre o qual a razão conclui a existência dessas ideias, qual o motivo premente desses postulados? Se esse fundamento está na razão prática em si mesma, no mandamento do dever como tal, então até o homem mais imoral pode, a partir do fenômeno dessa razão prática, concluir a realidade das três ideias — e às vezes parece ser mesmo isto que Kant quer dizer, pois diz que é inevitável para todo ser racional concluir assim e que aquelas suposições são tão necessárias quanto a própria lei moral. Mas, se esse é o sentido de Kant, então não estamos diante de postulados psicologicamente mediados, e sim de postulados objetivamente lógicos; e surge a pergunta: por que um postulado lógico desses não é então conhecimento, elemento da razão teórica? Há, portanto, mais razão para pensar que o fundamento desses postulados não está na razão prática em si, mas na disposição moral do homem que seriamente procura obedecer ao dever. Por isso declara ele que a fé moral é um ter-por-verdadeiro sobre fundamentos psicológicos e morais; por isso essa fé não diz "é certo", mas "estou moralmente certo"; por isso o homem reto pode dizer "eu quero que haja um Deus, o meu interesse moral exige a existência de Deus". Nota-se de fato em Kant um duplo empenho: manter, de um lado, a racionalidade e, de outro, a liberdade da fé.

3. O significado de Kant para a teologia consistiu principalmente em ter feito uma separação entre fenômeno e númeno, realidade explicável e realidade vivida, mundo do ser e mundo dos valores, saber e crer, ciência e religião, razão teórica e razão prática. A religião passou a estar ao lado e fora da ciência, e a repousar sobre fundamento próprio, o da natureza moral do homem. Sobretudo depois que se tornou patente a vaidade da prova histórico-apologética e da especulativa, muitos voltaram a Kant. Entre nós isso se deu já com Hoekstra, que, insatisfeito com o intelectualismo e o determinismo de Scholten, buscou o fundamento da fé religiosa na razão prática e nos seus postulados: a fé é um ato moral da vontade, um postulado do nosso homem espiritual interior diante das experiências da vida, e só é verdadeira aquela cosmovisão que corresponde ao nosso íntimo, às nossas necessidades morais; mais tarde fundou-a especificamente no senso incondicional de dever. Os modernos éticos foram um passo além: abstendo-se da tentativa de chegar a um sistema filosófico, separaram fé e ciência tão nitidamente quanto possível e limitaram a religião ao domínio do moral. Religião é idealismo moral, dedicação ao ideal moral, fé no poder do bem — poder que, segundo a maioria, ainda tem existência objetiva, mas que, para alguns, não é senão uma concepção do espírito humano.

4. Na Alemanha o kantismo foi renovado na teologia por Ritschl e Lipsius. Os principia da teologia de Ritschl e da sua escola são estes. Antes de tudo, deve fazer-se uma separação entre metafísica e religião: o conceito metafísico do Absoluto nada tem que ver com a ideia religiosa de Deus; e Herrmann levou a separação ainda mais longe, distinguindo entre a realidade explicável e a realidade vivida, entre o mundo natural e o mundo moral. Em segundo lugar, a teologia não deve tomar o seu ponto de partida antes da fé, numa theologia naturalis, que não existe, mas na fé da congregação. A ortodoxia ainda fazia preceder a fides historica, o assensus, à fides salvifica, isto é, à fiducia; desse modo a fé dependeria sempre de novo de provas externas, consistiria em aceitar algumas verdades e ficaria privada de toda liberdade e certeza. Em terceiro lugar, a teologia de Ritschl procura vincular a fé salvadora à revelação histórica na pessoa de Cristo: a fé é, como fiducia, não aceitação de uma doutrina, mas confiança numa pessoa. Mas então a fé não brota do homem por si mesma: pressupõe um objeto e algum conhecimento prévio desse objeto — Herrmann chega a reconhecer que a notitia é uma pré-condição da fé. Sobre que fundamento está firme, porém, essa revelação histórica em Cristo? A resposta que os ritschlianos dão a essa importante pergunta é muito diversa. O próprio Ritschl na verdade não dá resposta alguma: remete o homem individual à congregação, que tem a experiência do perdão dos pecados e da filiação divina, mas não diz o que há de constranger o indivíduo a unir-se a essa congregação. Os seus seguidores fazem a verdade da revelação em Cristo repousar sobre a experiência interior: Herrmann combate com todas as forças que provas históricas nos possam convencer da verdade da pessoa de Cristo e deixa a crítica histórica inteiramente livre; mas diz, não obstante, que o Christus extra nos é o fundamento da sua fé, e reconhece essa verdade objetiva não com base em provas, mas porque sentiu sobre si o poder da vida de Jesus, porque a vida de Jesus tem o poder de testemunhar-se à nossa consciência como fato real. Finalmente, o conteúdo da fé é reduzido a um mínimo: todos os conhecimentos de ordem religiosa, dizia Ritschl, são juízos de valor diretos, que repousam no bem ou mal-estar do homem e são independentes da ciência; e Herrmann chegou a dizer que a realidade da fé é, para a ciência, uma imaginação. Mas era demasiado claro que o conhecer religioso implica tanto quanto o conhecer científico a convicção da realidade do seu objeto: juízos de valor dependem de juízos de ser, ou não são senão imaginação. Kaftan reconhece por isso que os juízos de valor pressupõem verdade objetiva; e Häring diz, sim, que fundamentos práticos e morais nos movem à fé, mas acrescenta que a fé cristã não traz em si mesma a garantia da verdade daquilo em que se crê — pois desejar não é prova do cumprimento do desejo — e que encontra essa garantia no fato histórico da revelação de Deus em Cristo.

5. Em última análise o mesmo ponto de vista é adotado por Lipsius, que reconhece ainda, à diferença de Ritschl e Herrmann, algum direito à metafísica. A nossa razão sente necessidade de ascender do mundo da experiência a um fundamento incondicionado, e forma assim os conceitos do Absoluto, da alma. Mas esse pensar metafísico já não é ciência propriamente dita: não produz conteúdo positivo, dá apenas determinações de forma, princípios regulativos; e quando queremos pôr nele algum conteúdo, transferimos para ele formas sensíveis e enredamo-nos numa antinomia. Por esse caminho, portanto, nenhum conhecimento do supra-sensível se pode obter. Mas há ainda outro caminho, o das necessidades práticas e morais: da contradição entre o espírito do homem e a natureza nasce nele a religião, e o impulso prático e ético de manter-se na sua existência leva o homem à fé em Deus, a postular um mundo supra-sensível. A fé começa, pois, onde a ciência cessa, e traz consigo uma certeza própria, não científica mas moral, uma certeza de experiência, que repousa na certeza vivida da minha própria pessoa; para outro essa certeza talvez não seja senão imaginação, mas para o sujeito mesmo é certa. Tal experiência é também o único critério da verdade da religião cristã: a apropriação da revelação histórica como posse pessoal é a única prova direta. E o cristão, crendo assim, dá nos dogmas não uma descrição de estados de ânimo, mas juízos de ser acerca da relação do homem com Deus; essas afirmações são objetivamente verdadeiras se estão em conexão logicamente necessária com a realização da nossa destinação suprema de vida. A dogmática não pode provar o conteúdo da fé nem elevar o crer a saber; mas pode e deve pôr a cosmovisão cristã, teleológica, em conexão com a cosmovisão causal e mostrar que o conflito é apenas aparente — pois a unidade do nosso espírito proíbe a aceitação de uma dupla verdade.

6. Esse método ético e prático de justificar a religião e o cristianismo merece certamente muita preferência sobre a argumentação histórica e a especulativa. Não concebe a religião meramente como doutrina, que deva ser justificada perante o entendimento, nem como um estado do sujeito, que o pensamento deva dissecar analiticamente; mas vê na religião um poder histórico e objetivo, que corresponde à constituição moral do homem e nela encontra a sua prova e a sua justificação. Ainda assim, também esse método está sujeito a graves objeções.

Em primeiro lugar, a concordância de uma religião com as necessidades morais do homem é sem dúvida de grande significado. A satisfação do coração e da consciência é o selo e a coroa da religião. Uma religião que não pode consolar no luto e na dor, na vida e no morrer, que fica desamparada junto ao leito do enfermo e do moribundo, não é digna desse nome. A antítese tantas vezes feita entre verdade e consolo não pertence à religião: uma verdade que não contém consolo, que não está ligada à vida religioso-ética do homem, deixa por isso mesmo de ser uma verdade religiosa.

Mas, por mais alto que se estime esse consolo, e por mais que ele deva, junto com outras provas, ser levado em conta como poderoso motivum credibilitatis, sozinho e posto por si é insuficiente como prova. Pois algum consolo e alguma satisfação se encontram em todas as religiões: as experiências da miséria e da culpa, da dúvida e da confiança, da paciência e da esperança acham-se não só entre os cristãos, mas também, em maior ou menor grau, entre maometanos, budistas e outros. Uma religião que não oferece consolo é certamente falsa; mas, inversamente, nem toda religião em que o homem busca o seu consolo é por isso a verdadeira. Além disso, as necessidades do coração às quais esta ou aquela religião corresponde ou foram elas mesmas despertadas sob a influência dessa religião — e então a sua satisfação é bastante natural e prova de pouca força —, ou surgiram fora dela, sob a operação de outra religião — e então justamente aquela necessidade peculiar que esta religião pressupõe não está presente, e a satisfação falta por inteiro. De uma aspiração inconsciente da alma ao cristianismo quase nada se encontra na realidade. O evangelho não é segundo o homem, não é segundo as necessidades tais como o homem mesmo as imagina; fora da revelação o homem tampouco se conhece a si mesmo. A afirmação de que o cristianismo corresponde às necessidades do homem traz consigo o sério perigo de que a verdade seja feita sob medida para a natureza humana: a proposição de que a verdade é genuinamente humana porque é divina converte-se com facilidade na oposta, que ela só é divina porque é humana. Pregar para agradar, em vez de pregar ao coração de Jerusalém, não é raro nem mesmo em púlpitos cristãos.

Em seguida, a experiência em que se busca a prova da verdade da religião é um conceito muito flutuante. Que há, afinal, numa religião histórica que possa realmente ser conteúdo de experiência? Experimentadas são algumas emoções religioso-éticas de culpa, remorso, perdão, gratidão, alegria; mas todo o resto que ocorre numa religião histórica cai fora da experiência. Em nenhum dos doze artigos de fé pode o "creio" ser substituído pelo "experimento": que Deus é Criador do céu e da terra, que Cristo é o Filho unigênito de Deus, não é suscetível de experiência alguma. Sobre o fundamento da experiência religioso-ética a verdade do cristianismo histórico nunca poderá ser edificada. A consequência dessa elevação da experiência a principium cognoscendi é apenas que o conteúdo da fé e da dogmática se desprende cada vez mais de tudo o que é histórico e se restringe ao chamado religioso-ético — o que não é senão nova forma da separação, já tantas vezes tentada em vão, entre ideia e fato no cristianismo.

7. Em vez de na satisfação do coração e da consciência, outros buscaram o conteúdo e a prova da religião cristã nos chamados juízos de valor. Mas isso é apenas outro nome para a mesma coisa. Se com isso nada mais se quisesse dizer senão que um dogma sempre há de conter um valor religioso-ético, ninguém poderia levantar objeção alguma: em todo dogma se deve ouvir bater o coração da religião. Mas na teologia de Ritschl esses juízos de valor adquiriram sentido inteiramente diverso: desligados de tudo o que é metafísico, tornaram-se o fundamento e o conteúdo da dogmática. E isso é impossível. A religião inclui a convicção da realidade do seu objeto; a valoração religiosa e ética pressupõe a verdade da pessoa ou da coisa a que se refere. Juízos de valor dependem, portanto, de juízos de ser; ficam ou caem com eles. Se a valoração de um objeto não está fundada na sua realidade, torna-se nada mais que imaginação, criação da fantasia. Não é, pois, admissível dizer: sejam os fatos assim ou de outro modo, a valoração decide; pois com os fatos também ela muda. Se Cristo não é verdadeiramente Deus, então tampouco pode ter para o cristão o valor de Deus. E assim é com todos os dogmas: a valoração religiosa está na mais estreita conexão com a verdade objetiva.

Aos poucos ganha terreno a convicção de que a experiência e a valoração religioso-éticas, por maior que seja o seu peso, não podem garantir a verdade do seu objeto nem ser a medida do conteúdo da dogmática. Psicologicamente essa concepção também não se justifica. Pois a decisão sobre a realidade das coisas não cabe à vontade nem ao sentimento, ao coração nem à consciência, mas ao consciente. Só quando a realidade de uma coisa está estabelecida para o consciente é que as demais faculdades da alma podem tornar-se ativas a seu respeito. Querer, sentir, experimentar, imaginar não implicam de modo algum a realidade dos seus objetos. O caminho para o coração é pavimentado pela cabeça.

Muitos, contudo, embora vendo a fraqueza da prova pela experiência, tentaram ainda salvar algo dela por meio da teoria kantiana dos postulados. Concede-se então que a natureza moral do homem não permite concluir a verdade da religião cristã; mas dela se deriva, não obstante, o direito de postular a existência efetiva de tudo aquilo que está necessariamente ligado a essa natureza moral e sem o qual ela é minada e destruída. Mas em que consiste isso, ninguém sabe indicar; os pareceres divergem largamente. Quem pode, em abstrato, determinar o que é imediata e diretamente dado com a natureza moral do homem? Em cada um essa natureza é diferente, conforme o ambiente em que se formou, e cada qual postula exatamente tanto quanto lhe basta para a sua religião: Kant derivou da razão prática aquilo que constituía o conteúdo da sua religião racional moral, e a Fichte bastou a ordem moral do mundo. E Rauwenhoff afirma que a fé em nós mesmos postula necessariamente a fé numa tal constituição do mundo que nela possa reinar a lei do senso de dever; mas em que consista essa constituição não nos é dito, e a ordem moral do mundo por ele postulada não é outra coisa senão o bem em nós. Com isso não avançamos um passo, pois esse poder do bem já está presente no homem agora e coincide inteiramente com aquela natureza moral sobre a qual justamente o postulado foi construído. Se, porém, a constituição atual do mundo é compatível com o domínio da lei moral em nós, por que não poderia sê-lo também no futuro? Que direito dá a natureza moral do homem para exigir ao fim a vitória completa do bem, a harmonia de virtude e felicidade? Com Rauwenhoff a teoria dos postulados terminou por voltar ao ponto de partida: no fim não deu mais do que já continha no começo.

Mas, à parte os seus escassos resultados, cabe perguntar se é confiável o fundamento sobre o qual o postulado é construído. Na religião o filósofo moderno não quer saber de nenhuma natureza religiosa original do homem — isso estaria em conflito com uma explicação científica; a religião tem de ser derivada de fatores que, cada um em si, ainda não são religiosos. Mas, chegado à natureza moral do homem, parece esquecer inteiramente a exigência da sua explicação científica: parte dela como de uma propriedade fixa, imutável e original, e sobre ela edifica a realidade de uma ordem moral do mundo, ou até de um mundo metafísico inteiro. Se essa investigação tivesse sido instituída de antemão, talvez tivesse aparecido que a própria natureza moral do homem já pressupõe a religião. Em sentido gnosiológico pode-se ascender do moral ao religioso; lógica e realmente, porém, a religião precede o ético. Não há moralidade sem metafísica. A ideia do dever envolve a de um poder absoluto que obriga na consciência.

8. Uma última objeção contra a direção acima descrita consiste em que ela tem sempre de chegar a certo dualismo entre crer e saber. Alguns o exprimiram muito cruamente — Jacobi professava ser pagão com o intelecto e cristão com o coração. A maioria, porém, não ousa ir tão longe e vê a impossibilidade de dizer não como filósofo e sim como homem religioso: reconhecem que no fim há de haver concordância entre as afirmações da fé e os resultados da ciência, que ambos têm de poder ligar-se num só todo, ou ao menos poder existir lado a lado sem conflito. Essa concordância procura-se então obter tornando a ciência, de um lado, agnóstica quanto ao supra-sensível, e limitando estritamente, de outro, as afirmações da fé religiosa ao religioso-ético.

Mas ainda que assim se tente evitar o dualismo no resultado, de fato continua-se a aderir a ele no órgão pelo qual e no método pelo qual se chega ao conhecimento da verdade. O coração é, no seu terreno, tanto um órgão para a verdade quanto a cabeça; a experiência religioso-moral garante a realidade das coisas invisíveis tão fortemente quanto a percepção sensível a do mundo visível; a fé, com os seus fundamentos, tem tanto direito quanto a ciência com as suas provas. Mas é difícil ver como se possa escapar, no fim, do dualismo que se aceita no começo, no princípio. Se cabeça e coração têm vida própria, no sentido de que cada um forma um órgão independente para o conhecimento da verdade, então a unidade da verdade, do mundo, e do próprio Deus já não se pode manter. Assim como subjetivamente o homem se parte em dois — de um lado um ser sem religião, encerrado no nexo da natureza, e de outro um ser religioso-ético, cidadão de uma ordem moral do mundo —, assim objetivamente a ciência e a religião, a realidade explicável e a realidade vivida, as coisas visíveis e as invisíveis, o poder absoluto da natureza e a ideia religiosa de Deus ficam separados lado a lado e logo hostis um diante do outro.

Há sem dúvida, nesse dualismo, certa verdade que não se deve desconhecer: pois há, ao lado de uma certeza lógica, também uma certeza de fé. Mas essa distinção é inteiramente outra que a separação representada pelo dualismo acima descrito. Pois essa dupla certeza não divide em duas metades nem o homem nem o mundo, mas dentro da própria esfera da ciência faz distinção entre aquilo que chega ao nosso conhecimento imediatamente e aquilo que chega por meio de provas. Já o dualismo que veio a dominar na filosofia moderna faz todo o criado desagregar-se em dois círculos inteiramente separados, e está com isso em conflito com a unidade do espírito do homem, com a unidade da ciência e da verdade, com a unidade do mundo, com a unidade do próprio Ser divino. Por isso tampouco está em condições de reconciliar o crer e o saber; antes, aumenta ainda o conflito entre ambos. Pois a fé não pode contentar-se com essa separação, porque vê tirar-se dela todo o histórico e o metafísico, e por isso ou se torna inteiramente dependente da ciência, ou tem de recolher-se a um sentimento vago e misterioso. E a ciência não pode ter paz com ela, porque a decisão sobre a realidade das coisas é confiada a uma faculdade que para isso carece de direito e de competência. Ambas, fé e ciência, não se deixam limitar dessa maneira: a cada momento invadem uma o campo da outra.

§ 17. A fé

1. Da investigação precedente ficou claro que o principium internum da religião cristã e da teologia não pode ser situado no intelecto, na razão ou no coração do homem psíquico. Nem provas, nem raciocínios, nem sequer a concordância com as necessidades do homem são capazes de nos convencer da divindade da verdade religiosa. Em todo domínio, e portanto também na religião, o principium internum deve corresponder ao principium externum, ser da mesma natureza que ele: assim como a luz só pode ser percebida pelo olho, a verdade divina só pode ser reconhecida por aquele que é aparentado a Deus e é sua imagem. Desde Schleiermacher, a maioria dos teólogos chegou à compreensão de que a religião é de natureza própria e por isso deve também ser conhecida por um órgão próprio no homem; procurar esse órgão na razão, na consciência moral, no coração já era um passo no caminho certo, e merecia larga preferência sobre o empenho racionalista de demonstrar a verdade religiosa ao intelecto sóbrio. Mas com isso ainda não se tinha feito o bastante. Se não houvesse pecado, o homem possuiria em si a capacidade de distinguir a verdade da falsidade tão claramente quanto o olho distingue a luz das trevas. Ninguém, porém, pode afirmar que seja assim: o pecado obscureceu o homem no intelecto e o corrompeu na vontade. É necessário, portanto, que objetivamente a verdade nos venha ao encontro em pureza e que subjetivamente o nosso olho para essa verdade seja aberto.

A Escritura parte disso. Ela não se submete ao juízo do homem natural, pois só o homem espiritual, o que nasceu de novo, pode discernir as coisas do Espírito de Deus. Por isso reserva para si o direito e o poder de levar o homem ao reconhecimento de sua verdade, e o faz de modo espiritual — não por provas e raciocínios, mas pelo caminho de uma experiência espiritual, pela instrução do Espírito Santo. Há, portanto, não apenas uma revelação de Deus em Cristo fora de nós, mas também uma iluminação do Espírito Santo em nós.

Está por isso em conflito com a essência da religião cristã fazer que a sua verdade dependa da investigação e da sentença do homem pecador. O dogmático tem de tomar posição não antes nem fora, mas no meio da fé. A dúvida metódica de Bacon e de Descartes não está em seu lugar nem na filosofia nem na teologia: a dúvida pode ser, quando muito, ocasião de sair em busca da verdade, mas só a fé a faz encontrar, e a fé é sempre o fundamento mais profundo do trabalho da ciência — com razão combateu Voetius a theologia dubitans de Descartes. É método errado o filósofo despojar-se de sua certeza natural e o dogmático de sua fé antes de dar início ao trabalho científico. Tal método não é apenas impraticável: carrega sobre o homem de ciência a aparência de que sua convicção e sua fé repousam realmente sobre aqueles fundamentos que o seu pensar lhe faz achar depois. Descartes encontrou um ponto de partida firme no cogito ergo sum; mas ninguém pensará que com isso ele nomeou o último e mais profundo fundamento da fé na própria existência. A ciência não tem de criar o seu objeto, mas de explicá-lo.

A teologia cristã tem, portanto, um ponto de partida subjetivo: toma posição na congregação, que crê e confessa a verdade de Deus. Outro ponto de partida não existe. Roma o procura, mas não o encontra; a Reforma abandonou essa busca e partiu do sujeito crente; e quando a teologia do racionalismo e do supranaturalismo entregou esse ponto de vista, a teologia mais recente, desde Schleiermacher, voltou em quase todas as suas direções a esse princípio da Reforma. Quase todos os teólogos tomam hoje posição na consciência crente, na regeneração, na experiência religiosa; há nisso uma concordância notável.

A acusação de subjetivismo contra esse ponto de vista é inteiramente descabida. Em parte alguma, em ciência nenhuma, há outro ponto de partida. Todo o objetivo existe para nós apenas por mediação da consciência subjetiva; sem consciência, o mundo inteiro está morto para mim, e desejar uma objetividade que não fosse subjetivamente mediada é exigência impossível. O subjetivismo só nasce de fato quando o órgão subjetivo, indispensável à percepção do que existe objetivamente, é elevado a principium do conhecimento. O olho pode ser órgão indispensável para a percepção da luz, mas nem por isso é a sua fonte. É precisamente este o erro do racionalismo idealista: identificar o órgão com a fonte do conhecimento. O pensar não é a fonte do pensamento, o eu não é o criador do não-eu; e assim também a fé, a regeneração, a experiência não podem ser a fonte do nosso conhecimento religioso nem o princípio da nossa teologia. Por mais que a teologia mais recente tome com razão o seu ponto de partida no sujeito, ela erra quando converte a teologia em antropologia, eclesiologia, ciência da religião. Nessa medida, Ritschl chamou com razão a teologia da consciência de volta à revelação objetiva e histórica em Cristo.

2. Na Escritura, ao menos no Novo Testamento, esse principium internum é designado na maior parte das vezes pelo nome de fé. Também a regeneração, a pureza de coração, o Espírito de Deus são apresentados como principium internum; mas o nome de fé merece preferência, sobretudo porque o conceito de fé nos coloca no terreno da consciência e assim preserva a conexão com o modo pelo qual chegamos ao conhecimento em outro domínio. A razão humana nunca e em lugar nenhum é fonte de conhecimento; não há conceitos inatos; o homem é física e igualmente intelectualmente dependente por inteiro do mundo fora dele. Todo conhecimento vem de fora — mas todo esse conhecimento é, do lado do homem, mediado pela consciência. Não o sentimento nem o coração, mas a consciência em toda a sua extensão é o órgão subjetivo da verdade. A revelação de Deus é um sistema de palavras e obras que existem fora de nós e independentemente de nós: como poderiam elas chegar ao nosso conhecimento senão pela consciência? E a revelação de Deus é evangelho, é promessa de perdão e de salvação; e a uma promessa nada pode corresponder de nossa parte senão a fé. Só pela fé uma promessa se torna nossa posse. A fé é, portanto, o principium internum cognoscendi da revelação, e assim também da religião e da teologia.

Mas ainda por outra razão convém designar o principium internum pelo nome de fé: com isso se preserva a coerência do conhecer religioso com todo o restante conhecer do homem. Não chegamos ao conhecimento na religião e na teologia de outro modo que nas demais ciências. A fé não é um órgão novo implantado no homem, não é um sexto sentido, não é um donum superadditum; por mais que entre em conflito com o homem "natural", ela é inteiramente natural, normal, humana — a revelação liga-se à natureza, a re-criação liga-se à criação. Crer é, em geral, um modo comuníssimo de chegar ao conhecimento e à certeza: começamos crendo em todo domínio, e só o conhecimento adquirido e a experiência nos ensinam a descrença. Agostinho pôs em luz esse significado da fé para a sociedade e para a ciência: quem não crê nunca chega a conhecer — nisi credideritis, non intelligetis —, e a fé é fundamento e vínculo de toda a sociedade humana, pois se valesse a proposição de que não devo crer no que não vejo, romper-se-iam todos os laços de sangue, de amizade e de amor.

Contra os que julgam que nada se pode ter por verdadeiro senão o que é sensivelmente percebido ou matematicamente provado, está acima de toda dúvida firmemente estabelecido que de longe a maior parte, e a mais importante, do que sabemos não repousa sobre provas, mas sobre certeza imediata. O domínio desta é muito maior que o da certeza demonstrativa; e esta última está sempre de novo construída sobre a primeira, e com ela está e cai. A fé em sentido geral e amplo é elemento indispensável na sociedade e caminho normal para a ciência. Ela não se tornou necessária pelo pecado: fora do pecado, o conhecimento intuitivo teria ocupado lugar ainda mais amplo na vida humana. Como analogias da fé religiosa, esses casos prestam excelente serviço: têm em comum com ela que o conhecimento é obtido imediatamente, não por reflexão, e que em certeza não fica em nada aquém do que repousa sobre provas; e mostram que crer está tão pouco em conflito com a natureza humana e com a exigência da ciência, que sem isso não pode haver homem normal nem ciência normal.

3. Mas por causa dessa concordância não se deve deixar de ver a diferença que existe entre a fé como certeza imediata e a fé em sentido religioso. No Novo Testamento a pistis é inteiramente determinada em sentido religioso — em objeto, fundamento e origem; ela mesma designa uma relação religiosa do homem com Deus.

Em Hebreus 11:1, as coisas que se esperam e as coisas que não se veem são chamadas o objeto geral da fé cristã. Já por aí a fé em sentido religioso se distingue do conhecimento que possuímos por certeza imediata: a fé no mundo exterior, nos sentidos, nas leis do pensamento repousa sobre a própria observação interior, mas o objeto da fé cristã é invisível e não suscetível de observação alguma. Se algo é imediatamente observado por nós, a fé é supérflua; a fé opõe-se ao ver. Com isso não conflita que a revelação tenha ocorrido no espaço e no tempo, que a pessoa de Cristo pudesse ser vista e tocada; pois como objeto de fé essa revelação inteira não é, ainda assim, observável — muitos viram Jesus e nem por isso creram nele. Objeto de fé são palavras e obras apenas sub ratione Dei. Mas na Escritura a pistis, como fides salvifica, recebe um sentido ainda mais pregnante: não tem por objeto quaisquer palavras e obras de Deus em si mesmas, mas a graça de Deus em Cristo, as promessas do evangelho. E a natureza geral da fé fica com isso de tal modo modificada que ela não passa a ser um mero ter-por-verdadeiro objetivo, mas inclui também uma confiança cordial, uma entrega inteira, uma apropriação pessoal das promessas de Deus concedidas no evangelho.

Em seguida, a fé em sentido religioso distingue-se da certeza imediata em que esta repousa sobre a própria intelecção, e aquela sobre a intelecção de outro. A fides salvifica tem certíssimamente a graça de Deus em Cristo por objeto; mas dessa graça não teríamos o mínimo conhecimento se ela não nos tivesse chegado pelo testemunho de outros, se não nos estivesse assegurada na Sagrada Escritura. Entre a pessoa de Cristo e a nossa fé interpõe-se, portanto, o testemunho dos apóstolos; a palavra de Deus é medium gratiae. Ora, essa Escritura entra em consideração para a fé somente como palavra de Deus, pois a fé religiosa não pode repousar senão num testemunho de Deus; mas nem por isso a fé deixa de estar ligada a essa Escritura: tem por objeto a graça de Deus tal como é testemunhada na Sagrada Escritura — ou, como o exprime Calvino, tem por objeto Christum evangelio suo vestitum, Cristo revestido do seu evangelho. Por isso a fé, num só ato, estende-se tanto para a pessoa de Cristo quanto para a Escritura, e ambas as coisas são verdadeiras: por Cristo à Escritura e pela Escritura a Cristo. Mesmo os que removem toda notitia e todo assensus da fides salvifica e a querem fazer passar por inteiro em fiducia não podem deixar de fazer essa fiducia nascer de uma impressão feita na alma pela imagem de Cristo. Não há outro caminho para o coração do homem senão pela sua cabeça e pela sua consciência: só o Espírito de Deus pode operar imediatamente no coração; nós estamos ligados aos meios. E por isso a fides salvifica inclui também sempre um conhecer — não um mero ter por verdadeiro, mas um conhecimento firme e certo no sentido da Escritura, que nem por isso é imediato e obtido pela própria intelecção: está ligado à Sagrada Escritura, repousa sobre o testemunho de apóstolos e profetas como sobre a palavra de Deus.

Finalmente, a fé cristã distingue-se ainda da certeza imediata por não brotar por si mesma da natureza humana. No mundo exterior, nos principia, nas leis do pensamento, todo homem crê por si, sem ordem de ninguém, com base na própria intelecção. Assim não é com a fé cristã: a fé não é de todos. Por mais inteiramente humana que seja, não sendo donum superadditum mas restauração do homem, o homem psíquico está hostilmente diante do crer, pois a fé em sentido cristão pressupõe abnegação, crucificação dos próprios pensamentos e da própria vontade, desconfiança de nós mesmos e, contra isso, confiança na graça de Deus em Cristo. Por isso, assim como a fides salvifica tem o próprio Deus por objeto e repousa sobre o seu testemunho, tem-no também por autor: é ele quem, pelo Espírito Santo, move o homem à fé. Com isso a fé cristã é inteiramente determinada em sentido religioso: objeto, fundamento e origem estão total e unicamente em Deus. A fé cristã é religião pura, religio subjectiva; é verdadeiramente religioso o homem que assim crê: ele é imagem, filho, herdeiro de Deus.

4. Na igreja cristã, porém, cedo se tornou dominante a concepção que via na fé um assentimento do entendimento à verdade revelada. Crer é pensar com assentimento, diz Agostinho; que é crer senão consentir que é verdadeiro o que se diz? Tomás diz que o objeto da fé é Deus, e as demais coisas apenas na medida em que têm alguma ordem para Deus; que o fundamento da fé está unicamente em que algo foi revelado por Deus; e que seu autor é Deus somente. O Vaticano definiu a fé como uma virtude sobrenatural pela qual, aspirando e ajudando a graça de Deus, cremos serem verdadeiras as coisas por ele reveladas — não por causa da verdade intrínseca das coisas, percebida pela luz natural da razão, mas por causa da autoridade do próprio Deus que revela. A fé é, em Roma, um assentimento firme e certo às verdades da revelação com base na autoridade de Deus na Escritura e na igreja.

Na prática essa concepção teve consequências muito nocivas. Em primeiro lugar, a fé tornou-se de fato nada mais que um assentimento intelectual a uma doutrina misteriosa que transcende de longe a razão, e com essa concepção não é possível a distinção entre essa fé e a fides historica aceita pelos protestantes: Roma não tem outra coisa senão uma fides historica. Daí seguiu-se que essa fé não podia bastar para a salvação: tinha de ser suplementada por outra virtude na vontade, o amor, e torna-se então fides formata. A fé perde com isso o seu lugar central na vida cristã, é rebaixada a uma das preparações para a gratia infusa da justificação, e o centro de gravidade passa a estar inteiramente no amor, isto é, nas boas obras. E finalmente tornou-se difícil sustentar que a fé nesse sentido fosse fruto da gratia interna, como Agostinho a entendia: crer era tanto mais meritório quanto mais fosse ato livre e próprio do homem e mais consistisse na aceitação de mistérios incompreensíveis, num sacrificium intellectus.

A Reforma alterou essa concepção romana em todos os aspectos: restaurou a natureza religiosa da pistis. Em primeiro lugar, fez uma distinção de princípio entre a fides historica e a fides salvifica: a fé histórica podia em alguns casos precedê-la e ter em si mesma grande valor, mas era e permanecia essencialmente distinta da fé salvadora. Todos os reformadores foram unânimes em julgar que a fé salvadora consistia, se não somente, ao menos também em conhecimento; nenhum deles permitiu que a fé se dissolvesse num afeto ou disposição inconsciente do ânimo. A fé recebeu assim de novo uma natureza própria, espiritual, religiosa, não gradual mas essencialmente distinta de toda outra fé na vida e na ciência; e naturalmente tal fé não podia então proceder do mesmo princípio de que procede toda a outra fé no homem. A Reforma foi unânime na confissão de que a fides salvifica é dom de Deus: não fruto das forças naturais do homem nem sequer da graça comum, mas fruto da graça especial do Espírito Santo, atividade do homem novo, regenerado, e por isso também perfeitamente suficiente para a salvação. Em Roma a fé ocupa apenas lugar preparatório — e com razão, pois no fundo não é outra coisa que fé histórica; na Reforma ela recebeu de novo o lugar central que ocupa no Novo Testamento: não precisa ser suplementada pelo amor, basta para obter parte em todos os bens da salvação.

Difícil foi, porém, com essa concepção profunda da fides salvifica, definir corretamente a sua natureza, e quanto à questão de onde reside o ato próprio da fé as respostas divergem muito. Mas isto é certo: a fé, na teologia da Reforma, não era um conhecer de verdades doutrinárias, mas um vínculo da alma com a pessoa de Cristo segundo as Escrituras e com a Escritura como palavra de Cristo. A fides salvifica era de novo, de ponta a ponta, religiosa: a graça de Deus em Cristo era o seu objeto, o testemunho de Deus em sua palavra o seu fundamento, o Espírito Santo o seu autor.

5. Essa fé traz consigo, segundo a Escritura, uma certeza própria. Ela é o firme fundamento e a convicção das coisas que se esperam e não se veem — não porque seja em si mesma tão firme e fixa, mas porque repousa sobre o testemunho e a promessa de Deus. Ela torna os bens invisíveis da salvação tão certos para nós, e até muito mais certos, do que jamais o poderiam fazer a intelecção pessoal ou uma prova científica. Por isso a Escritura fala da ousadia, da confiança, da plena convicção da fé, e a põe em oposição à dúvida, ao cuidado, ao medo. A certeza é, por toda a Escritura, uma característica da fé: mesmo em meio às mais pesadas tentações, esperando contra a esperança, o crente se sustém como vendo o Invisível, e antes abre mão de tudo do que negue a sua fé. A fé é a vitória que venceu o mundo.

Essa certeza da fé era desconhecida da ciência; entrou no mundo com o cristianismo. A filosofia grega reconhecia a certeza que nascia da percepção sensível e a que se obtinha pelo pensar, e Aristóteles distinguiu nesta última ainda entre o que repousa sobre provas e o que repousa sobre evidência: havia assim na ciência três vias para chegar à certeza — a observação, a argumentação e a evidência. Ao lado dessa certeza científica o cristianismo colocou a certeza da fé.

Na doutrina da certeza da fé há uma diferença importante entre Roma e a Reforma quanto à questão de saber se a certitudo fidei inclui também a certitudo salutis, a segurança absoluta da própria salvação. Desde Agostinho, essa certitudo salutis foi negada pela igreja e pela teologia romanas: Roma sustenta que ela é quinhão apenas de alguns crentes, que a receberam por revelação especial, e que os crentes comuns têm, quanto à sua salvação, apenas uma certeza moral, conjectural. Para essa certeza não há lugar no sistema romano, pois ela só é compatível com a confissão do amor eletivo de Deus e tornaria os leigos independentes da igreja e do sacerdote. Contudo, os teólogos romanos reconhecem a certitudo fidei quanto às verdades objetivas da revelação, e nisso os teólogos protestantes concordam. Ninguém expressou essa certeza de modo mais agudo que Calvino: a fé é para ele uma certeza certa, firme, plena e fixa, mais certeza que apreensão, confiança e segurança do coração.

6. Pela filosofia pouca atenção se deu em geral a essa certeza da fé. Só Kant a incorporou e reconheceu, em sentido modificado. Kant admitiu no essencial três espécies de certeza: a empírica, problemática, que repousa sobre a observação própria ou alheia; a lógica, científica, apodíctica, ou intuitiva, como na matemática, ou discursiva, como na filosofia; e, ao lado destas, uma certeza moral, assertórica. O supra-sensível é, segundo Kant, incognoscível: Deus reteve intencionalmente esse conhecimento de nós, para que não puséssemos o destino do homem no saber, mas no agir; e em vista desse destino ético o homem aceita a verdade de algumas proposições sem as quais não pode cumprir essa tarefa. Isso é a fé moral, e a certeza que por ela se obtém não é de natureza teórica, mas prática: ela o faz dizer não "estou certo", nem "é moralmente certo", mas "estou moralmente certo". Há assim uma tríplice certeza — empírica, lógica e moral —, expressa pelas palavras opinar, saber e crer.

Essa doutrina exerceu grande influência sobre a teologia: quando a autoridade da Escritura e da igreja foi minada, buscou-se nela o fundamento da religião. Há de fato nessa certeza moral uma verdade profunda, e pode-se reconhecer com gratidão que Kant lhe atribuiu lugar em sua filosofia: das coisas invisíveis temos uma certeza inteiramente diversa da que temos daquelas que podemos perceber com os sentidos, e a fé nas coisas que se esperam e não se veem não se dá sem a vontade, sem a disposição moral e a experiência espiritual. Mas nem por isso merece recomendação trocar a certeza da fé da Sagrada Escritura pela certeza moral de Kant.

Antes de tudo, não é supérflua a observação de que a certeza é sempre um estado da consciência. O espírito humano pode, diante de uma proposição, estar em estados diversos: de incerteza, dúvida, suspeita, opinião, mas também de certeza absoluta. A certeza é o repouso da consciência humana na verdade encontrada e reconhecida. O entendimento aspira ao conhecimento, à verdade; o verdadeiro é o seu bem, a satisfação da sua necessidade, e quando encontra essa verdade ele repousa nela, sente-se seguro e certo. A certeza é descanso, paz, alegria, bem-aventurança: in veritate requies; é o estado normal do espírito humano, como a saúde o é do corpo. Falando com rigor, portanto, a certeza mesma não é moral; só assim se chama porque os fundamentos sobre os quais nela repousa a verdade são de natureza moral.

Mas então os fundamentos sobre os quais repousam a verdade científica e a moral não são tais que se possam separar um do outro e opor-se como teóricos e práticos. Na realidade não existe o dualismo que Kant admite em sua dupla certeza: nem subjetivamente cabeça e coração, nem objetivamente as coisas visíveis e as invisíveis se deixam assim partir em duas. Também na investigação científica o coração exerce influência, e muito do que na ciência passa por fixo e certo repousa sobre fundamentos morais ou imorais. E, inversamente, é ainda a consciência que, também na certeza moral, pesa e julga os fundamentos morais pelos quais uma proposição é aceita como verdadeira: a vontade pode mover o entendimento a aceitar uma verdade, mas essa aceitação é ela mesma um ato do entendimento, e o entendimento só pode fazê-lo porque em maior ou menor grau reconhece e vê a verdade. A certeza da fé não se produz por provas teóricas, mas tampouco por uma decisão da vontade. E cabe ainda perguntar se são fundamentos morais suficientes para sobre eles edificar, contra a contestação da ciência, a fé na existência de Deus, a consciência do perdão, a esperança da bem-aventurança: ainda que a certeza moral bastasse ao filósofo, ela é inutilizável para o cristão, pois não é capaz de sustentar a verdade da religião cristã.

Prova-o, ademais, a distinção que Kant faz entre supor, crer e saber: supor era um ter-por-verdadeiro sobre fundamentos insuficientes; crer, sobre fundamentos subjetivamente suficientes; saber, sobre fundamentos objetivamente suficientes. Ora, essa distinção é correta precisamente quanto ao crer na vida diária e no tocante às coisas que se podem saber — aí, de fato, crer é um grau menor e mais fraco de saber. Mas na religião a fé é a própria certeza. Tomás descreve melhor a distinção: é próprio da opinião que se aceite uma coisa com receio da oposta, de sorte que não tem adesão firme; é próprio da ciência que tenha adesão firme com visão intelectiva; a fé, porém, está no meio: excede a opinião por ter adesão firme, e fica aquém da ciência por não ter visão. Crer e saber não se distinguem, pois, quanto à certeza: a fé traz consigo uma certeza tão forte quanto o saber, e das duas a certeza da fé é mesmo a mais forte em intensidade, quase inabalável e inextirpável. Quem dá a vida por uma tese científica? Mas a religião gera mártires.

Boaventura distingue com razão, dentro da certeza, entre a certitudo adhaesionis e a certitudo speculationis. A primeira é maior na certeza da fé do que na certeza científica, pois muitas vezes nem argumentos, nem lisonjas, nem torturas conseguem fazer vacilar a fé de alguém. Mas a certitudo speculationis pode às vezes ser mais forte na ciência que na fé — é o mesmo pensamento que Agostinho exprimiu: o saber é sempre sem vício, mas o crer ocorre às vezes com vício. O crer não é, por si, prova nenhuma da verdade daquilo que se crê; há grande diferença entre a segurança subjetiva e a verdade objetiva. Na fé, tudo depende dos fundamentos sobre os quais ela repousa.

§ 18. O fundamento da fé

1. Assim que a teologia cristã começou a refletir seriamente sobre o fundamento último e mais profundo da fé, chegou ao reconhecimento de que nenhuma prova intelectual ou histórica aduzida em favor da verdade da revelação poderia, no fim, ser válida para ela. Os apologistas do século II atribuíam grande valor a essas provas; mas já neles encontramos a consciência de que todas elas são impotentes para de fato mover alguém à fé: para isso é preciso ainda outra coisa e mais, a saber, a graça divina.

Agostinho foi o primeiro que viu e confessou com clareza a necessidade da gratia interna. Em outros lugares atribui grande valor à igreja como motivo de fé; mas sua doutrina da gratia interna prova que para ele não era esse o motivo último e mais profundo de sua fé. Esse era Deus somente: Deus opera a nossa fé agindo de modo admirável em nossos corações, para que creiamos. Pois crer é sempre voluntário — nemo credit nisi volens —, e Deus, portanto, por sua graça, inclina a vontade e nos faz crer com o entendimento.

Também os teólogos posteriores atribuíram grande força aos praeambula fidei e aos motiva credibilitatis. Mas todos concedem que esses motiva tornam a revelação não evidenter vera, e sim apenas evidenter credibilis: excluem a dúvida razoável e mostram que não é irracional crer, mas conclusivos não são. Tomás diz expressamente, ao tratar das provas filosóficas da trindade, que quem se esforça por provar a trindade das pessoas pela razão natural deprecia a fé, e que contra os adversários as provas de pouco valem, porque a própria insuficiência dos argumentos os confirmaria ainda mais em seu erro. Em Roma isso tem de permanecer também por outra razão: do contrário se perderia a voluntariedade e, com ela, o mérito da fé.

A fé, portanto, aceita a verdade não com base na própria intuição, mas na autoridade divina: a fé não assente a coisa alguma senão porque foi revelada por Deus. E, para reconhecer essa autoridade, tem de preceder no homem uma mudança da vontade: crer é sim um ato do entendimento, mas o assensus fidei só se dá por Deus, movendo interiormente pela graça. Gregório XVI condenou a opinião de Hermes de que os motiva credibilitatis fossem o fundamento efetivo da fé na revelação; e o Concílio Vaticano determinou que os motivos podem tornar crível a revelação divina, mas ninguém pode consentir à pregação evangélica como convém para alcançar a salvação sem a iluminação e a inspiração do Espírito Santo.

2. Com isso Roma adota, de fato, o mesmo ponto de vista subjetivo das igrejas da Reforma. Os motivos, por mais fortes que sejam, não podem realmente mover à fé: é só o Espírito de Deus que pode interior, firme e certamente convencer alguém da verdade da revelação divina. O fundamento mais profundo da fé é, também em Roma, não a Escritura nem a igreja, mas o lumen interius.

Para maior clareza, o ato de fé pode ser por um momento analisado num silogismo. A maior diz: Deus é veraz; se Ele se revela, sua revelação deve ser aceita pela fé. A menor diz: estes fatos — a igreja, a Escritura — são revelações de Deus. E segue-se a conclusão: logo, também estes devem ser cridos. Sobre a maior não há divergência; ela está firme em virtude da ideia de Deus e é reconhecida por todos. Tanto mais tudo depende da menor: a diferença corre precisamente sobre se e onde Deus se revelou. O cristão crente diz: na Escritura, ou também na igreja. Mas como e por que são estas reconhecidas como revelação de Deus? Se com base em provas, nos motiva credibilitatis, então esse fundamento é humano, falível, e a fé não é puramente religiosa nem certa. A revelação de Deus só pode, em sentido religioso, ser crida com base na autoridade de Deus. Mas essa autoridade só se deixa ouvir ou fora de mim, na Escritura ou na igreja — cujo fundamento de fé é justamente o que investigo —, ou dentro de mim, na graça que me move a crer, no lumen interius, no testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Quem quiser sustentar a autoridade de Deus como fundamento último da fé tem de adotar um destes dois pontos de vista.

Ora, Cano disse sem hesitar que o fundamento último estava na graça que interiormente o movia à fé: creio, dizia ele, que Deus é triúno porque Deus o revelou; e nisto — Deus revelou — creio imediatamente, movido por Deus mediante um instinto especial. O fundamento último de sua fé estava objetivamente no testemunho de Deus; mas que ele reconhecesse esse testemunho como divino devia-se à graça que movia sua vontade e seu entendimento a crer. Contra isso, porém, muitos objetaram que Cano na verdade não responde à pergunta sobre que fundamento aceita como divino o testemunho de Deus: diz apenas que Deus interiormente lhe dá crer assim, sem prestar contas ulteriores. Ademais, essa opinião não se recomendava porque, como já observara Suárez, tinha tanta semelhança com a doutrina calvinista do testimonium Spiritus Sancti e podia levar tão facilmente a ela.

Suárez era de opinião que não só o objeto, mas também o próprio fundamento da fé é de novo objeto de fé. Cremos não apenas que a Escritura é verdadeira porque Deus nela se revelou; mas também o fato de que Deus nela se revelou, cremo-lo porque Deus mesmo o atesta na Escritura: a revelação é ao mesmo tempo o quo e o quod creditur, e um só e mesmo ato crê a Deus e crê em Deus. Muitíssimos teólogos concordaram, mas ela não satisfez a todos. A circularidade era evidente: crê-se na Escritura porque ela é revelada, e que ela é revelada crê-se por sua vez porque a Escritura o atesta. Conduz também a um progressus in infinitum: creio numa revelação porque outra revelação a atesta, e assim por diante. Suárez responde que a revelação deve ser crida por si mesma, que Deus, revelando-se, revela nisso ao mesmo tempo que é Ele quem se revela. Mas permanece sempre aberta a pergunta: por que cremos no testemunho pelo qual Deus declara que é Ele quem se revelou?

Lugo, por isso, ensinou que aceitar o fato de que Deus se revelou na Escritura era sim sobrenatural, mas nem por isso podia chamar-se fé em sentido próprio. Pois crer é sempre aceitar algo como verdadeiro com base num testemunho; ora, se aceitar o fato da revelação fosse um crer em sentido próprio, isso pressuporia de novo um testemunho divino, e assim in infinitum. Lugo supunha, então, que reconhecer o fato da revelação não repousava sobre o testemunho de Deus, mas sobre isto: que o crente vê imediata e diretamente a própria revelação, com seus milagres e profecias, como revelação, tal como a razão reconhece imediatamente a verdade dos principia — a revelação anuncia-se como divina por seu conteúdo. Mas essa representação esbarra na objeção de que esse reconhecimento ou é realmente imediato — e então se torna uma nova revelação no sujeito, uma intuição do divino de que aqui na terra, caminhando na fé, não participamos —, ou é de fato mediato, mas então decorre dos indicia e critérios da revelação, e vem assim a repousar novamente sobre os motiva credibilitatis.

Outros, portanto, disseram: o testemunho de Deus é o fundamento último da fé. À pergunta "por que crês?", o cristão responde: porque Deus falou. Deus dixit. Fundamento mais profundo ele não pode indicar; e se se pergunta ainda por que crê que Deus falou na Escritura, só pode responder que Deus opera nele interiormente de modo que reconheça aquela Escritura como palavra de Deus. O testemunho de Deus é o fundamento, mas a graça, a vontade, é a causa da fé; as provas podem ser motiva credibilitatis, a vontade é no fim o motivum credendi. Também este ponto de vista não escapa à crítica: pode-se perguntar que fundamento tem o entendimento para aceitar a Escritura como palavra de Deus, e a resposta de que a vontade ou a graça move a isso o entendimento é insuficiente. A vontade não pode mover o entendimento a aceitar algo como verdadeiro sem um fundamento cujo caráter crível ele próprio não veja; o entendimento tem de reconhecer ele mesmo que algo é divino e por isso merece fé. Do contrário a fé é irracional, e o crente se livra da dificuldade com um sic volo, sic jubeo, stat pro ratione voluntas.

Os teólogos católicos, portanto, tampouco souberam dar à pergunta pelo fundamento mais profundo da fé uma resposta que satisfizesse a todos; muitíssimos simplesmente se abstêm de decidir. Basta isso para mostrar que também Roma, com sua igreja infalível e seu papa infalível, não leva vantagem alguma sobre as igrejas da Reforma. O fundamento mais profundo da fé está, em Roma tanto quanto no protestantismo, no sujeito.

3. A Reforma tomou deliberada e livremente o seu ponto de vista no sujeito religioso, na fé do cristão, no testemunho do Espírito Santo. Em Lutero, Zuínglio e Melâncton ocorrem apenas algumas poucas afirmações sobre o testimonium Spiritus Sancti; mas Calvino desenvolveu longamente essa doutrina e a vinculou não só ao conteúdo, mas também à forma e à autoridade da Escritura.

Que a Escritura é palavra de Deus, diz Calvino, não é estabelecido pela igreja, mas estava estabelecido antes da decisão dela, pois a igreja está fundada sobre o fundamento dos apóstolos e profetas. A Escritura traz consigo a própria autoridade, repousa em si mesma, é autopistos. Mas a certeza de que essa Escritura é palavra de Deus só a recebemos pelo testemunho do Espírito Santo: provas e raciocínios têm muito valor, mas este testemunho supera de longe a todos, é omni ratione praestantius. Como só Deus pode testemunhar de si mesmo em sua palavra, assim sua palavra não encontra fé no coração dos homens antes de ser selada pelo testemunho interior do Espírito; o mesmo Espírito que falou pela boca dos profetas tem de operar em nossos corações e convencer-nos de que eles fielmente entregaram o que Deus lhes ordenara. Se temos esse testemunho em nós, não repousamos em juízo humano algum, mas estabelecemos sem dúvida, como se contemplássemos o próprio Deus nela, que a Escritura procedeu da boca de Deus pelo ministério de homens. E isso não deve ser entendido como se nos submetêssemos cegamente a algo que nos é desconhecido: temos consciência de possuir naquela Escritura a verdade invencível e sentimos ali viger e respirar uma indubitável força divina, pela qual, voluntária e conscientemente, e contudo viva e poderosamente, somos impelidos à obediência.

Calvino sabia que nesta doutrina não descrevia uma revelação privada, mas a experiência de todos os crentes. Esse testemunho não estava nele isolado, mas em estreitíssima conexão com toda a atividade do Espírito no coração dos crentes; e o testimonium Spiritus Sancti também não dá revelações novas, mas firma o crente quanto à verdade de Deus, plenamente contida na Escritura: faz com que a fé seja uma cognitio certa e exclua toda dúvida. Essa doutrina foi acolhida nas confissões de fé francesa, neerlandesa e de Westminster.

Mas ela achou oposição da parte do socinianismo, do remonstrantismo e do romanismo, e gradualmente o testimonium internum começou também na teologia reformada a perder seu lugar de honra. Em Turretini, Amyraut e Du Moulin já aparece enfraquecido e identificado com aquela iluminação do Espírito Santo pela qual o entendimento é habilitado a perceber as notae e critérios da divindade da Sagrada Escritura: a fé já não se prende à Escritura direta e imediatamente, mas decorre da percepção das veritatis et divinitatis notae — entre a Escritura e a fé inserem-se as marcas da verdade da Escritura. Mas logo o racionalismo considerou também isso desnecessário, confiou à razão a investigação da verdade da revelação e fundou a autoridade da Escritura em provas históricas. Michaelis declarou que nunca percebera tal testemunho do Espírito em seu coração; e Strauss afirmou que o testimonium Spiritus Sancti levava ao fanatismo ou ao racionalismo, e era o calcanhar de Aquiles do sistema protestante.

Várias causas, contudo — a crítica do racionalismo por Kant, a "prova do Espírito e do poder" a que Lessing apelava, o romantismo, a infecundidade da apologética —, contribuíram para restituir em alguma medida a honra a essa doutrina. Delas nasceu a convicção de que a justificação da religião cristã deve partir da fé da congregação: a verdade religiosa há de ser provada de outro modo que uma proposição da matemática, e à revelação, que é o principium externum da religião, deve corresponder um órgão no próprio homem. Sem dúvida, tudo isso ainda difere muito do testimonium Spiritus Sancti tal como Calvino o desenvolveu: com frequência os teólogos mais recentes despojam esse testemunho de todo o seu caráter sobrenatural, e em geral o põem em conexão não com a forma, mas apenas com o conteúdo da Escritura. Mas, assim como os romanos, também os teólogos protestantes têm de reconhecer que o fundamento último e mais profundo da fé não pode estar fora de nós, em provas e raciocínios, na igreja e na tradição, mas só pode ser encontrado no próprio homem, no sujeito religioso.

4. Tanto a teologia romana quanto a protestante, na investigação do fundamento mais profundo da fé, chegaram ao sujeito religioso e têm de tomar posição na fé da congregação. Todo outro caminho trilhado para a prova da verdade religiosa mostrou-se um beco sem saída. Na aparência, isso é uma decepção — e assim o sente todo aquele que desconhece a essência própria da revelação e da religião e as transforma numa doutrina demonstrável pelo intelecto. Mas de fato esse desfecho é um ganho para a teologia, pois prova que ela chegou à compreensão do caráter específico da religião e que está na mesma condição de todas as demais ciências.

O ponto de partida subjetivo não é, afinal, peculiar apenas à teologia. Tudo o que é objetivo só pode ser abordado a partir do sujeito; a Ding an sich é incognoscível e não existe para nós. Todo viver e todo conhecer repousam numa correspondência entre sujeito e objeto. E o homem é tão rico porque está ligado ao mundo objetivo pelas mais diversas relações: física, vegetativa, sensitiva, intelectual, ética e religiosamente está em harmonia com esse mundo; é um microcosmo.

Ora, a Escritura nos precede em conceber religiosamente todas essas relações e em explicá-las teisticamente. O homem não se colocou a si mesmo nessa relação com o cosmo: desde o princípio está constituído para aquele mundo, e este, reciprocamente, para ele; porque é imagem de Deus, é também senhor da terra. E não é só que Deus tenha um dia lançado esses laços entre homem e mundo; Ele é também quem continuamente os mantém e os faz operar. É um só e mesmo Logos por quem foram feitas todas as coisas dentro e fora do homem, e por Ele elas ainda sempre subsistem (Jo 1,3; Cl 1,15); e mais de perto ainda a Escritura nos dá a conhecer o Espírito de Deus como princípio e autor de toda a vida no homem e no mundo, e nomeadamente também da vida intelectual, ética e religiosa.

Naturalmente a operação desse Espírito é diversa conforme as relações em que o homem está com o mundo. Fisicamente consiste apenas no impulso que faz o homem e o animal buscarem de Deus o seu alimento. Mas forma mais alta assume essa operação na vida intelectual, ética e religiosa do homem: torna-se então ratio, conscientia, sensus divinitatis, que não são faculdades em repouso, mas suscetibilidades que, pela influência de fenômenos afins vindos do mundo exterior, passam ao ato. E esse ato pode agora levar o nome de testemunho, dado pelo espírito humano aos fenômenos correspondentes fora dele.

Nosso espírito não faz outra coisa senão dar sempre testemunho à verdade que nos vem de fora. Ele não produz essa verdade a partir de si mesmo pelo pensar e pelo raciocinar; não a cria, apenas a reproduz e reflete. A verdade existe antes e independentemente do espírito humano; repousa em si mesma, no Logos, em quem tudo tem subsistência. Do lado do homem só isto é necessário: que veja a verdade e a acolha em si, que lhe dê o seu testemunho e a sele pelo pensar e conhecer. Dar tal testemunho à verdade é, para o espírito humano, descanso, alegria, bem-aventurança: caiu então a distância entre nós e a verdade — ela nos achou, nós a achamos; há contato imediato. Toda verdade faz de quem a conhece uma testemunha, um arauto, um profeta. Concebido religiosamente, é o próprio Logos que, por nosso espírito, dá testemunho ao Logos no mundo: é um só e mesmo Espírito que objetivamente desdobra a verdade diante de nós e subjetivamente a eleva em nosso espírito à certeza. Todo conhecimento da verdade é essencialmente um testemunho que o espírito do homem lhe presta e, no fundamento mais profundo, um testemunho do Espírito de Deus à Palavra pela qual todas as coisas foram feitas.

5. Este testemunho do espírito do homem à verdade é pressuposto e fundamento e, ao mesmo tempo, analogia do testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Mas analogia não é identidade. A religião cristã tem como principium externum não a revelação geral de Deus na natureza, mas uma revelação especial de Deus em Cristo, e a isso deve corresponder o principium internum. A mente do homem psíquico é insuficiente para discernir as coisas do Espírito de Deus. Deus só pode ser conhecido por Deus: "quem é de Deus ouve as palavras de Deus" (Jo 8,47). Portanto, também só aquele mesmo Espírito que falou pelos profetas e apóstolos pode em nossos corações dar testemunho à verdade e assim erguê-la acima de toda dúvida e levá-la à certeza absoluta.

Na revelação objetiva — isto é, na pessoa de Cristo e na Escritura como sua palavra — está incluído tudo aquilo de que o homem necessita para o conhecimento e o serviço de Deus. Mas essa revelação em Cristo e em sua palavra é meio, não fim. O fim é a criação de uma nova humanidade que desdobre plenamente a imagem de Deus; por isso toda a revelação tem de ser transferida de Cristo para a igreja, da Escritura para a consciência: Deus busca morada no homem. Essa grande obra divina da aplicação da salvação, da condução a toda a verdade, está confiada ao Espírito Santo, que ainda não era, porquanto Cristo ainda não fora glorificado (Jo 7,39), e que segundo a promessa é derramado no dia de Pentecostes. Toda a sua atividade é chamada por Jesus um testemunhar, um glorificar dele mesmo: o mundo inteiro está hostil diante de Cristo, ninguém toma a sua causa, mas o Espírito Santo entra em cena diante desse mundo como paráclito, como defensor de Cristo. E o faz antes de tudo na Escritura: esta é o testemunho, o alegado do Espírito Santo em favor de Cristo, que Ele profere e sustenta através de todos os séculos. Este testimonium Spiritus Sancti in Sacra Scriptura precede e serve de fundamento ao testemunho que o Espírito dá nos corações dos crentes. Assim como os pensamentos de Deus estão objetivamente incorporados no mundo e dele são colhidos pelo espírito humano, assim também a palavra da revelação é primeiro descrita por inteiro na Sagrada Escritura, para depois ser selada em nossos corações. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti nos crentes prova aqui não ser uma nova revelação nem uma comunicação de verdades desconhecidas; é essencialmente distinto da profecia e da inspiração; apenas faz que a verdade, que existe fora e independentemente de nós, seja entendida como verdade, e assim a assegura e sela na consciência humana. O sujeito não cria a verdade; apenas a reconhece e a afirma.

Mas a analogia estende-se ainda mais longe. Os objetos do conhecimento humano são todos autopista: repousam em si mesmos, sua existência pode ser reconhecida, mas não provada. Provas em sentido estrito só são possíveis quanto a proposições derivadas, e consistem em reduzir proposições incertas e postas em dúvida a outras que já são geralmente aceitas como estabelecidas. Pois os prima principia, sobre os quais todas as provas em última instância repousam, não são eles mesmos suscetíveis de prova alguma: estão firmes só pela fé e para a fé. As provas, portanto, só têm força para quem concorda conosco nesses principia: contra principia negantem non est disputandum. Assim, a própria lei moral é autopistos, repousa em si mesma, não depende de prova nem de raciocínio; sua força consiste em sua autoridade, na majestade divina com que faz ouvir o seu "não farás" em nossa consciência, e ela enfraqueceria a si mesma se raciocinasse conosco e se submetesse ao nosso juízo. À pergunta "por que te submetes à lei moral?" só uma resposta é possível: porque ela me revela a vontade de Deus. Mas se se perguntar em seguida por que se crê que essa lei moral é a vontade de Deus, nenhuma resposta conclusiva se pode mais dar.

Do mesmo modo se dá na teologia. Também aqui as provas só são possíveis quanto às proposições derivadas: a divindade de Cristo pode ser provada a quem reconhece a autoridade da Escritura. Mas a autoridade da Escritura repousa em si mesma e não é suscetível de prova alguma. A Sagrada Escritura é autopistos e, portanto, o fundamento último da fé; um fundamento mais profundo não se pode aduzir. À pergunta "por que crês na Escritura?" a única resposta é: porque ela é palavra de Deus. Mas se se perguntar em seguida por que se crê que a Sagrada Escritura é palavra de Deus, o cristão fica devendo a resposta. Sem dúvida apelará então às notae e critérios da Escritura, à majestade de seu estilo, à sublimidade de seu conteúdo; mas estes não são os fundamentos de sua fé, são apenas propriedades e marcas descobertas depois na Escritura pelo pensamento crente, assim como as provas da existência de Deus não precedem a fé nem a sustentam, mas dela procedem. O Deus dixit é o primum principium a que todos os dogmas, também o referente à Escritura, podem ser reduzidos. O vínculo da alma com a Escritura como palavra de Deus está por trás da consciência e por baixo das provas; é de natureza mística, tal como a fé nos principia nas diversas ciências.

6. Contra essa representação levanta-se, porém, a objeção de que assim o crer se torna inteiramente arbitrário. Em vez de dar razões pelas quais se crê na Escritura como palavra de Deus, responde-se que Deus faz que assim se creia; com isso o maometano pode provar a sua fé no Alcorão, e todo supersticioso a sua superstição.

Contra isso deve observar-se, em primeiro lugar, que o crente de fato não pode indicar para a revelação fundamento mais profundo do que a sua autoridade divina, reconhecida pela fé; mas nem por isso deixa de ter algo a apresentar contra o adversário dessa revelação. Provas conclusivas ele não tem, não pode mover o adversário à fé; mas para a defesa tem ao menos tanto a dizer quanto o outro tem para o ataque. Também a incredulidade, no fim, não repousa em provas e raciocínios, mas está enraizada no coração. Crentes e incrédulos estão nisso em pé de completa igualdade: a convicção de ambos é solidária de toda a sua personalidade e só é apoiada a posteriori por prova e raciocínio. Deus é conhecível o bastante para os que o buscam, e oculto o bastante para os que dele fogem: há luz bastante, dizia Pascal, para os que só desejam ver, e obscuridade bastante para os que têm disposição contrária. Provas históricas e racionais não converterão ninguém, mas são para a defesa da fé exatamente tão poderosas quanto os argumentos do partido contrário para a justificação de sua incredulidade.

Ademais, o testemunho que os crentes dão à revelação cristã não é decerto universalmente humano, mas é universalmente cristão. Toda a cristandade é unânime nessa confissão. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti não é o testemunho de um spiritus privatus, mas de um só e mesmo Espírito, que habita em todos os crentes; é um poderoso testemunho, dado pela igreja de todos os séculos à Escritura como palavra de Deus. Sobre nenhum dogma reina unanimidade tão grande. É um fato que não pode ser posto em linha com a alucinação ou o arbítrio e que, em todo caso, requer explicação.

Além disso, o crente não pode indicar fundamento mais profundo para a sua fé, mas pode dar conta ulterior do modo como chegou a essa fé. Em regra alguém nasce e é criado nela; mais tarde descobre por si mesmo que está preso à Escritura com toda a alma, e então procura prestar contas desse vínculo místico. Mas não raro acontece que alguém chegue em idade mais avançada à conversão; e também os que desde a juventude viveram dessa fé são muitas vezes abalados pela crítica, e só gradualmente chegam à firme certeza. Ora, qual é a experiência pela qual a fé na revelação é primeiro despertada, ou depois restaurada e fortalecida? É naturalmente diversa nos diversos crentes; mas é sempre de natureza religioso-ética, espiritual. O que realmente nos faz crer não é a percepção do nosso entendimento nem uma decisão da nossa vontade; é um poder que está acima de nós, que inclina a nossa vontade, que ilumina o nosso entendimento, que sem coação e contudo eficazmente leva cativos os nossos pensamentos à obediência de Cristo. Foi isso o que Agostinho confessou ao atribuir a fé à gratia interna, o que Tomás reconheceu ao dizer que o assensus fidei vem de Deus, movendo interiormente pela graça, e o que o Concílio Vaticano declarou ao testemunhar que a fé não nasce sem a iluminação e a inspiração do Espírito Santo. E essa foi a convicção de toda a Reforma: a fé é dom de Deus, operação do Espírito Santo.

Crer é um ato do entendimento, uma adesão imediata da consciência à revelação, não mediada por provas. Mas essa fé pressupõe uma mudança na relação de todo o ser humano com Deus; pressupõe a regeneração, a conversão da vontade: nemo credit nisi volens. O saber constrange — ninguém pode negar uma proposição matemática. Mas o crer é livre, é o ato da mais alta liberdade, porque é o ato da mais profunda abnegação; e se Deus liga a salvação não ao saber, mas ao crer, isso é prova de que Ele não constrange nem quer constranger. Precisamente porque a fé não é fruto de provas científicas, ela não vem à existência à parte do coração e da vontade do homem — é essa a verdade que está na doutrina de Kant e dos neokantianos sobre a fé moral. A fé não é conclusão de um silogismo. Mas, por outro lado, tampouco é um ato da vontade, um postulado; também não é um imperium voluntatis: não se pode crer porque se quer, e a vontade não pode ordenar à consciência que aceite algo como verdade se ela mesma de modo nenhum lhe vê a verdade. Crer não é arbítrio, mas também não é cego: pressupõe uma mudança da vontade — operari sequitur esse —, mas é um reconhecimento livre e espontâneo, pelo entendimento, da palavra de Deus. Para o regenerado, a fé na revelação é tão natural quanto para o homem moral o reconhecimento da lei moral; está implantada na natureza da vida espiritual, enraizada nas profundezas misteriosas do coração regenerado. O crente pode abandonar essa fé tão pouco quanto a si mesmo: a fé na revelação é, no cristão, una com a fé em si mesmo — ele teria de renunciar à fé em sua filiação, no perdão de seus pecados, na veracidade e fidelidade de Deus, para não ver na revelação a palavra de Deus.

Por fim, muita coisa se levanta contra essa sua fé. Não só de fora, mas muito mais de dentro. Por mais que a vontade seja inclinada e o entendimento iluminado, permanece no crente ainda muito que se ergue contra essa obediência da fé: a fé é, por ser prova das coisas que não se veem, uma luta contínua. Permanece no crente um dualismo enquanto está na terra: um dualismo não de cabeça e coração, mas de carne e espírito, do homem velho e do homem novo. A fé conserva mais ou menos um caráter sobrenatural, na medida em que ultrapassa a natureza do homem psíquico; tão logo se torne plenamente natural, cessa ela mesma e passa à visão. Mas esse dualismo, por doloroso que seja, serve por outro lado para confirmação da fé. Pois se a fé não brota das disposições naturais do homem, e não é nem conclusão de um silogismo nem decisão da vontade, então a sua presença é ao mesmo tempo uma prova de sua verdade: nosso próprio espírito não nos impele por natureza a chamar Deus de nosso Pai e a contar-nos entre os seus filhos. Ainda que a Teologia insulte e a Filosofia zombe, Deus mesmo é o fundamento último da minha fé em Deus.

7. Este testimonium Spiritus Sancti foi relacionado por Calvino e pelos teólogos reformados de modo demasiado unilateral à autoridade da Sagrada Escritura. Parecia que ele não tinha outro conteúdo senão a certeza subjetiva da Escritura como palavra de Deus; com isso passou a estar por si só, desprendeu-se da vida da fé e parecia indicar uma revelação extraordinária, da qual Michaelis foi bastante honesto para reconhecer que nunca a experimentara.

A Escritura, porém, ensina bem diversamente. O Espírito Santo é prometido por Jesus como o Consolador, o Espírito da verdade, que em primeiro lugar conduz os apóstolos e depois, por meio da palavra deles, também todos os crentes à verdade, dá testemunho entre eles acerca de Cristo e o glorifica (Jo 15,26; 16,14). Para esse fim Ele convence do pecado, regenera e leva à confissão de Cristo como Senhor; assegura ainda da filiação e da herança celeste (Rm 8,14ss), dá a conhecer todas as coisas que por Deus foram outorgadas ao crente (1 Co 2,12) e é na igreja o autor de todas as virtudes cristãs. Claramente se vê que o testemunho do Espírito Santo é de natureza religioso-ética e está estreitissimamente ligado à própria vida de fé: não se dá à parte da fé, não é voz do céu, nem sonho, nem visão; é um testemunho que o Espírito Santo dá em, com e por meio do nosso próprio espírito, na fé. Não é concedido a incrédulos, mas é porção somente dos filhos de Deus.

Episcópio objetou, por isso, que o testimonium Spiritus Sancti não pode ser fundamento da fé, porque só vem depois dela. Mas a própria fé, desde o seu primeiríssimo início, é obra do Espírito Santo e recebe no Espírito da adoção o seu selo e a sua confirmação; o próprio crer é um testemunho do Espírito Santo em nossos corações e por nosso espírito.

Por isso o testemunho do Espírito Santo não dá certeza das verdades objetivas da salvação fora da conexão com o estado do sujeito religioso. Ele assegura essas verdades porque elas estão em ligação inseparável com a regeneração e a conversão, com o perdão e a filiação do crente. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti é, antes de tudo, a certeza de que somos filhos de Deus: essa é a verdade central, o cerne e o ponto médio desse testemunho. Mas em conexão com ela sela também as verdades objetivas da salvação — com esta determinação, contudo: o testimonium não nos revela nenhuma dessas verdades, nem nos põe em condição de derivá-las por reflexão da natureza da nossa vida espiritual. A iluminação do Espírito Santo não é fonte de conhecimento da verdade cristã; não nos dá a conhecer verdades materiais ocultas ao homem natural; apenas nos faz entender e apreender as mesmas coisas de outro modo, mais profunda e espiritualmente. Paulo diz expressamente que o Espírito nos faz conhecer as coisas que objetivamente nos foram outorgadas por Deus em Cristo (1 Co 2). Mas as verdades mesmas nos são conhecidas de outra parte, a partir da Escritura; são apenas subjetivamente seladas pelo testemunho do Espírito Santo.

Disso se segue que o objeto próprio a que o Espírito Santo dá testemunho nos corações dos crentes não é outro senão a divinitas da verdade que nos foi outorgada em Cristo. Dados históricos, cronológicos, geográficos nunca são, como tais, objeto do testemunho do Espírito Santo; nem mesmo os fatos da salvação são, como nuda facta, o conteúdo desse testemunho — nenhum crente é, pelo testemunho do Espírito Santo, assegurado em sentido científico da concepção sobrenatural e da ressurreição de Cristo. A única coisa a que o testemunho se refere é a divinitas. Mas então também a divinitas de todas aquelas verdades que foram reveladas na Escritura: é incorreto fazer o testimonium incidir só sobre aquilo que em sentido mais estrito é apenas religioso-ético, pois essa divinitas não é propriedade só de algumas afirmações religiosas e morais, e sim igualmente de fatos e obras — Cristo mesmo é uma pessoa histórica, a redenção foi realizada por atos históricos, e o testimonium Spiritus Sancti imprime também a esta história a marca da divinitas.

Por isso, com razão, também trouxe Calvino este testimonium à conexão com a Escritura como palavra de Deus. Pois esta Escritura não só tem rico significado religioso-ético para a vida cristã, mas contém também uma doutrina acerca de si mesma. O Espírito Santo não revela ao crente uma única verdade — nem sobre a pessoa de Cristo, nem sobre a Sagrada Escritura. E o testimonium Spiritus Sancti quanto à Sagrada Escritura consiste nisto: não em que o crente receba uma intuição imediata e celeste da divindade da Escritura; nem em que mediatamente conclua pela sua divindade a partir das notae e critérios; nem em que ascenda à sua divindade a partir da experiência do poder que dela procede; mas em que ele reconheça livre e espontaneamente a autoridade com que a Sagrada Escritura por toda parte se apresenta e que ela mesma repetidamente reivindica de modo expresso para si. Não a autenticidade, nem a canonicidade, nem sequer a inspiração, mas a divinitas da Escritura, a sua autoridade divina, é aqui o objeto próprio do testemunho do Espírito Santo. Ele faz que o crente se submeta à Escritura e o liga a ela na mesma medida e com a mesma força com que o liga à pessoa do próprio Cristo. A crítica histórica da Escritura só encontra, por isso, resistência dentro da congregação na medida em que atenta contra essa divinitas e assim mina o testemunho da filiação divina, a esperança da glória, a certeza da salvação.

Em certo sentido há neste testimonium Spiritus Sancti uma circularidade oculta: a divinitas da Escritura é provada por este testemunho, e a divinitas deste testemunho, por sua vez, pela Escritura. Só que o testimonium ocorre aqui sob dois respeitos: o crente primeiro se sente ligado em sua alma à palavra de Deus, e só depois aprende da Sagrada Escritura a entender que essa fé foi operada em seu coração pelo Espírito Santo. A rigor, o testemunho do Espírito Santo também não é o fundamento último da sua fé, pois a Escritura é autopistos; mas é o meio pelo qual ele reconhece a divindade da Escritura. Escritura e testemunho do Espírito Santo relacionam-se entre si como verdade objetiva e certeza subjetiva, como os prima principia e a sua evidência. Reconhecida uma vez em sua divindade, a Escritura permanece para a fé da congregação inabalavelmente fixada como palavra de Deus, de sorte que é principium e norma da fé e da vida.

8. Este testemunho não é anulado pelo fato de ser aparentemente tão diverso nos crentes. Já Belarmino lhe objetava que Lutero e Calvino, apesar deste testimonium, emitiram juízo muito divergente sobre a Epístola de Tiago. Mas o Espírito Santo testifica no coração dos crentes não só acerca da Sagrada Escritura, e sim igualmente em relação a todas as demais verdades da salvação; não há igreja que, neste sentido, não aceite uma iluminação do Espírito Santo, e contudo com isso não fica excluída a diferença na confissão das verdades particulares. Todos os crentes confessam um só Senhor, uma só fé, um só batismo, e todavia há divisão e contenda entre as igrejas e nos principais artigos de fé. A unidade da igreja cristã quanto à Escritura é muito maior que em qualquer outro dogma, não excetuados sequer o da Trindade e o da divindade de Cristo. E toda essa diferença não nos faz duvidar da unidade da fé e do conhecimento, da catolicidade da igreja, da condução do Espírito a toda a verdade; pois a diferença permanecerá enquanto a igreja for imperfeita, o coração corrompido, a percepção limitada, a fé pequena e fraca.

Também no crente individual o testimonium Spiritus Sancti nem sempre é igualmente forte; porque está estreitissimamente ligado à vida da fé, sobe e desce e está sujeito à dúvida e à oposição. Quando no crente o pecado ganha a dianteira, obscurece-se a consciência do seu perdão e o testemunho do Espírito Santo perde em poder: a nossa fé na Escritura decresce de tempos em tempos com a nossa confiança em Cristo.

Acresce a isso que a Escritura é certamente um livro também para o crente individual, mas ainda assim em conexão com a igreja de todos os séculos. A Escritura foi outorgada à igreja inteira, aos crentes de todos os tempos e lugares; o crente individual sempre se alimenta de uma pequena porção dela, e há seções inteiras que, para igrejas e épocas inteiras, permanecem livro fechado. Mas a confissão da Escritura como palavra de Deus é confissão de toda a igreja, à qual o crente individual adere e que ele também, por sua pessoa e na medida da sua fé, sustenta e mantém. O testimonium Spiritus Sancti não é opinião privada, mas o testemunho da igreja de todos os séculos, de toda a humanidade renascida — igreja que também esteve outrora, em todos os seus membros, como o mundo, hostil diante da palavra de Deus, e cuja hostilidade o Espírito Santo quebrou, iluminando o seu entendimento e inclinando a sua vontade.

Toda a confissão da congregação é um testimonium Spiritus Sancti. É o sim e o amém que a congregação pronuncia sobre a verdade de Deus. É o "Abba, Pai, a tua palavra é a verdade" que sobe do coração de todos os crentes. Tão longe está o testimonium Spiritus Sancti de ser o calcanhar de Aquiles do protestantismo, que antes merece ser chamado a pedra angular da confissão cristã, a coroa e o selo de toda a verdade cristã, o triunfo do Espírito Santo no mundo. Tirai o testemunho do Espírito Santo, não só em relação à Escritura, mas a todas as verdades da salvação, e não há mais igreja. Pois o testemunho que o Espírito Santo dá à Escritura como palavra de Deus é apenas um som isolado no cântico que Ele põe nos lábios da congregação; é apenas uma pequena parte daquela grande obra divina que lhe foi confiada, a saber, fazer habitar a plenitude de Cristo na sua congregação.

Mas, assim considerado, este testemunho tampouco é, diante dos adversários, desprovido de todo valor. Quando é desprendido de todo o seu ambiente e cortado da vida de fé em que se enraíza, da comunhão dos santos em que floresce, do conjunto da verdade cristã a que se liga, então perde certamente todo o seu poder, e o sim de um não é mais forte que o não do outro. Mas entendido como testemunho, dado pelo Espírito Santo nos corações de todos os filhos de Deus acerca da verdade que está em Cristo o Senhor, não deixa de causar impressão no ânimo mesmo do assaltante mais obstinado. Ainda então não vem a colocar-se em linha com um raciocínio lógico ou uma prova matemática: conserva um poder próprio. Mas infeliz seria a ciência se lhe fosse lícito contar apenas com o demonstrável. Não tem a consciência poder algum, porque o homem imoral a todo momento vai contra o seu testemunho? O poder de todas essas grandezas morais está precisamente nisto: que não se demonstram, mas em alta majestade se colocam diante da consciência de cada um; são poderosas pela autoridade com que se apresentam. E assim faz a Sagrada Escritura: manteve a sua autoridade na congregação de Cristo até o dia de hoje, e fez que todos os crentes, e entre eles as maiores inteligências e as almas mais nobres, se curvassem diante dela. Que poder no mundo se pode comparar ao da Escritura? O testimonium Spiritus Sancti é a vitória da loucura da cruz sobre a sabedoria do mundo, o triunfo dos pensamentos de Deus sobre as deliberações do homem. Nesse sentido o testemunho do Espírito Santo possui um excelente valor apologético. Pois esta é a vitória que vence o mundo: a nossa fé.

§ 19. Fé e teologia

1. A igreja cristã não se contentou com a fé: quase desde o princípio aspirou ao conhecimento da verdade religiosa e honrou uma ciência particular, a teologia. Não se pode dizer, porém, que esse impulso para a ciência esteja encerrado na fé como tal. Pois a fé é certeza e exclui toda dúvida; repousa na palavra de Deus e nela tem o bastante. "Depois de Cristo Jesus não nos é necessária curiosidade alguma, nem investigação depois do evangelho; quando cremos, nada desejamos além de crer", diz Tertuliano. Por isso o direito e o valor da ciência teológica foram mais de uma vez contestados na igreja: já durante as controvérsias monofisita e monotelita houve o partido dos gnosímacos, que tinham toda ciência por desnecessária ao cristão, e no fim da Idade Média a aversão à teologia era geral, pois a escolástica perdera todo o crédito e em todos os círculos havia um forte desejo de um cristianismo mais simples e prático.

A Reforma adotou de início o mesmo ponto de vista. É conhecido o juízo de Lutero sobre Aristóteles, sobre a escolástica e sobre a razão; e Melanchthon escrevia na primeira edição de seus loci: conhecer a Cristo é conhecer os seus benefícios, não, como ensinam os escolásticos, contemplar as suas naturezas e os modos da encarnação. Muitos, porém, foram além dos reformadores e rejeitaram toda teologia; e quando mais tarde o tratamento escolástico da teologia ganhou terreno nas igrejas protestantes, a reação veio de todos os lados, movida toda ela pelo desejo de mais simplicidade e verdade na doutrina da fé: para isso era preciso voltar da doutrina à vida, da confissão à Escritura, da teologia à religião. Também o deísmo e o racionalismo eram aparentados a esse anseio; buscando o geral e o comum que estaria no fundamento de todas as religiões, apelavam da religião cristã para a religião de Cristo, da religião estatutária para a religião da razão. A aversão à dogmática é hoje geral: muitos desejam uma religião sem teologia, uma vida sem doutrina, e aspiram a um cristianismo prático e não dogmático. Esse anseio encontrou sua defesa científica na escola de Ritschl, que veio com a exigência de que a teologia fosse inteiramente liberada da metafísica; e Harnack, em sua história dos dogmas, aplicou o princípio à história do dogma e procurou mostrar que a teologia é fruto do casamento inoportuno celebrado entre o cristianismo original e a filosofia grega. As acusações que todas essas direções levantam contra a teologia reduzem-se a isto: que ela falsifica a pureza e a simplicidade da religião cristã; que muda a religião numa doutrina que precisa ser provada e aceita intelectualmente; que mata a vida religiosa, promove uma ortodoxia fria e estéril e torna necessária a fides implicita; e, enfim, que põe a religião como doutrina em conflito com a ciência e aliena as classes cultas da fé cristã.

2. Ninguém negará que há seriedade e verdade nessas queixas. A teologia passou muitas vezes do alvo e degenerou em vã repetição de palavras. Esqueceu com demasiada frequência que o nosso conhecer na terra é um conhecer em parte e um ver por enigma; às vezes pareceu partir do pensamento de que podia responder a todas as perguntas possíveis e resolver todas as questões. Modéstia, delicadeza, simplicidade faltaram-lhe muitas vezes — e tanto pior, porque a teologia trata dos problemas mais profundos e toca nos movimentos mais finos do coração humano. Mais do que a qualquer outra ciência lhe convém a admoestação de não pensar de si mais alto do que convém pensar. Antes um honesto non liquet do que uma conjectura ousada.

Nem por isso a teologia está condenada em princípio. Pois, se a revelação consistisse apenas em comunicação de vida e a religião apenas em disposições do ânimo, não haveria lugar para uma teologia propriamente dita. Mas a revelação é um sistema de palavras e obras de Deus; contém um mundo de pensamentos; tem o seu centro na encarnação do Logos. E a religião não é sentimento e emoção somente, mas é também fé, vida consciente, um servir a Deus com o coração e a cabeça juntos. Por isso essa revelação pode ser pensada até o fim, para que melhor entre na consciência humana; nem se pode levar a mal à teologia que se aplique à clareza no pensar, à distinção no distinguir, à precisão no dizer. O perigo de degenerar em sutilezas existe do mesmo modo nas outras ciências, e a ninguém ocorre por isso disputar-lhes o direito: não se pode condenar a teologia pelo abuso que dela se fez — abusus non tollit usum.

Além disso, já nos ficou claro antes que a separação entre a religião cristã de um lado e a metafísica do outro é tão pouco concebível com pureza quanto praticável. Pois, para tornar de algum modo possível tal separação, todas as direções mencionadas são obrigadas a formar para si uma representação unilateral e incompleta do evangelho de Cristo. Quase nunca voltam à Escritura inteira, mas sempre a uma parte dela: ao Novo Testamento apenas, ou aos evangelhos, ou ao sermão da montanha, ou mesmo a um único texto — Tolstoi encontra o núcleo do evangelho em Mt 5.38-39; Ritschl converte os dogmas em juízos religioso-éticos de valor. O que seja a essência do cristianismo, em que consista a palavra de Deus, quem seja a pessoa de Cristo, não é decidido pelos apóstolos; cada um o determina para si segundo o próprio critério. A consequência é que todas essas direções têm de opor a Jesus e ao evangelho original não só a igreja, a confissão e a teologia, mas também os apóstolos: Harnack reconhece que já os apóstolos, sobretudo Paulo e João, falsificaram o evangelho.

Segue-se ainda dessa concepção que a história do dogma não pode fazer jus a si mesma: torna-se um grande desvio do espírito humano e cristão. A promessa do Espírito, que guiaria a toda a verdade, mostra-se vã. Tira-se da igreja até a possibilidade de conhecer a verdade, porque já os apóstolos a puseram em caminho errado. E a doutrina do logos, da trindade, do primeiro e do segundo Adão — todos os dogmas que deveriam provar a mistura da filosofia grega — encontra-se já na Escritura, se não verbalmente, ao menos materialmente. Numa palavra: a história dos dogmas passa a ser a história de sua crítica. Não foi a igreja que venceu o mundo; foi o mundo que venceu a igreja. Por fim, com essa concepção unilateral ameaça ainda o perigo de se perder a comunhão com a igreja de todos os séculos e, com ela, o vínculo com o próprio tempo — esse foi o destino de todas as seitas: cortadas das igrejas e desprezando a teologia, perderam a influência sobre o seu século e o laço com a cultura. Congregação e mundo, igreja e escola, religião e ciência caem então dualisticamente separados. A teologia, ao contrário, tem a gloriosa vocação de manter as duas em conexão: de preservar, de um lado, a vida cristã de toda sorte de doenças espirituais do misticismo e do separatismo, e, de outro, de libertar o pensamento científico do erro e da mentira pela verdade de Cristo. O direito da teologia está fundado na essência da religião cristã: a revelação dirige-se ao homem inteiro e tem o mundo inteiro por objeto; em todo terreno trava combate contra a mentira; oferece matéria ao pensamento mais profundo e planta no terreno científico o conhecimento de Deus ao lado do conhecimento do homem e do mundo, e em conexão orgânica com ele.

3. Ainda que o dogma cristão não se explique pela filosofia grega, ele não surgiu sem ela. Na Escritura não há ainda dogma nem teologia em sentido próprio: enquanto a própria revelação prosseguia, ela não podia tornar-se objeto de reflexão científica — a inspiração tinha de estar concluída antes que a reflexão viesse ao primeiro plano. A teologia surgiu na congregação de Cristo quando passou a ingenuidade infantil e despertou a consciência pensante; pouco a pouco nasceu a necessidade de pensar até o fim os pensamentos da revelação, de ligá-los ao restante do saber e de defendê-los contra todo tipo de ataque. Para isso era necessária a filosofia; com o auxílio dela surgiu a teologia científica.

Mas isso não aconteceu por acaso; a igreja não foi vítima de um engano. Os pais da igreja fizeram largo uso da filosofia, mas fizeram-no com plena consciência, com clara percepção dos perigos que isso trazia e com reconhecimento explícito da palavra dos apóstolos como única regra de fé e de vida. Por isso também não se serviram da filosofia grega inteira: fizeram uma escolha, usaram apenas aquela filosofia que mais se prestava a pensar e a defender a verdade de Deus, procederam ecleticamente e não adotaram sistema filosófico algum, mas produziram com o auxílio da filosofia grega uma filosofia própria, uma filosofia cristã — e serviram-se dela apenas como auxiliar, subordinada à teologia. De tudo isso fala claramente que o uso da filosofia na teologia não repousava num erro, mas numa convicção firme e clara: os pais sabiam o que faziam. Com isso não se exclui que em alguns pontos a influência da filosofia tenha sido forte demais para eles; mas então é preciso distinguir de imediato entre a teologia dos patres e os dogmas da igreja. A igreja em todos os tempos se guardou do abuso da filosofia: rejeitou o gnosticismo e condenou também o origenismo. E até hoje não se conseguiu explicar materialmente os dogmas a partir da filosofia; por mais vezes que se tenha tentado, no fim o caráter escriturístico da ortodoxia sempre se sustentou.

A Reforma assumiu de início atitude hostil à escolástica e à filosofia. Mas logo recuou disso; porque não era uma seita, nem queria sê-lo, não podia passar sem uma teologia. Calvino desde o começo via na filosofia um praeclarum Dei donum, um dom insigne de Deus; e assim julgaram todos os teólogos reformados. A questão não é agora se a teologia deve servir-se de um determinado sistema filosófico: a teologia cristã nunca assumiu sem crítica um sistema filosófico nem o atestou como verdade, e nem a filosofia de Platão nem a de Aristóteles foi tida por teólogo algum como a verdadeira — se apesar disso se deu preferência a esses dois sistemas, foi porque eram os mais aptos a desenvolver e defender a verdade. Mas uma filosofia determinada não é necessária à teologia. O de que ela precisa é da filosofia em geral, isto é: não se chega a teologia científica senão pelo pensamento. O verdadeiro principium cognoscendi internum da teologia não é, portanto, a fé como tal, mas o pensamento crente, a ratio christiana. A fé é consciente de si e certa; repousa na revelação; inclui um conhecer, mas esse conhecer é inteiramente de natureza prática, um "conhecer" no sentido da Sagrada Escritura. A teologia não brota, pois, dos crentes como tais; não é fruto da igreja como ecclesia instituta; não tem sua origem no ofício que Cristo conferiu à sua congregação. Mas os crentes têm ainda outra vida, mais rica do que a que vem à expressão na ecclesia instituta: como cristãos vivem também na família, no Estado, na sociedade, e exercem ciência e arte; e são-lhes concedidos muito mais dons do que os que operam pelo ofício. Entre eles há também os que sentem em si um forte impulso à investigação e ao saber, que receberam dons para pensar até o fim a verdade de Deus e trazê-la a sistema. E assim a teologia nasce na igreja de Cristo; tem por sujeito não a igreja instituída, mas a igreja como organismo, como corpo de Cristo; é fruto do pensamento da cristandade.

4. Fé e teologia são, portanto, realmente distintas, e disso se teve consciência em todos os tempos. A antítese aguda que o gnosticismo estabeleceu entre fé e conhecimento foi rejeitada; mas a distinção foi expressamente mantida e ao mesmo tempo se firmou e reconheceu a íntima conexão das duas. Agostinho elevou a sentença per fidem ad intellectum a princípio da teologia: supunha entre as duas uma relação como entre o trabalho e a recompensa — o entendimento é o fruto da fé —, e exortava a que aquilo que já se possui pela firmeza da fé se contemple também à luz da razão, pois longe esteja que Deus odeie em nós aquilo em que nos criou mais excelentes do que os demais viventes. E este foi o pensamento fundamental de toda a escolástica: fé e teologia distinguiam-se como habitus e actus, como theologia infusa e acquisita. A fé é assentimento às verdades reveladas, a teologia é conhecimento delas; a fé inclui algum conhecimento acerca de Deus e das coisas divinas, mas esse conhecimento diz respeito antes à existentia do que às rationes dessas verdades, ao passo que o teólogo penetra até a ideia, rastreia a conexão das verdades e, pensando, deriva delas outras.

Que se tinha consciência da distinção entre religião e teologia mostra-o também a doutrina da fides implicita. Se a fé, segundo Roma, consistia em assentimento a verdades reveladas, cedo ou tarde tinha de surgir a pergunta: quais e quantas dessas verdades é preciso ao menos conhecer e aceitar para ser participante da salvação? A fides carbonaria é expressamente rejeitada: todos os teólogos romanos sustentam que à fé salvadora pertence algum conhecimento, por escasso que seja, e que jamais a fé pode ser inteiramente implícita. Mas esse conhecimento difere nas várias dispensações da graça. Nos dias do Antigo Testamento, quando os mistérios próprios do cristianismo, como a trindade e a encarnação, ainda não haviam sido promulgados, eram necessários necessitate medii apenas dois artigos: que Deus existe e que é galardoador (Hb 11.6) — não porque muitos crentes do Antigo Testamento não tivessem conhecimento maior, mas porque os crentes simples podiam bastar-se com aqueles dois artigos, porquanto implicitamente criam também nos mistérios próprios do cristianismo. Depois da queda de Jerusalém, porém, aquelas duas verdades principais foram claramente reveladas, e agora é necessitate medii necessário, a todo o que quer ser salvo, aceitar quatro artigos: que Deus é, que é galardoador, a santíssima trindade e o mediador.

A questão que está por baixo da doutrina da fides implicita é bastante séria e importante: nela não vai menos do que a essência do próprio cristianismo, o significado de Israel, a possibilidade de um progresso da revelação junto com o caráter absoluto da verdade. Mas a concepção intelectualista da fé levou a resolver a questão de modo puramente quantitativo: a aceitação de quatro artigos de fé faz o cristão; e na prática a lenda da fides carbonaria provou conter verdade demais. De todo modo, a doutrina da fides implicita prova claramente que os teólogos romanos distinguem entre fé e teologia quanto ao conteúdo e à extensão.

5. Também a Reforma permaneceu consciente dessa diferença. Teólogos luteranos e reformados adotaram a distinção de habitus e actus, de theologia infusa e acquisita: a primeira é porção de todos os crentes, que em princípio conhecem totam theologiam, têm o conhecimento verdadeiro e puro de Deus; mas como acquisita ela é porção apenas dos que exercem cientificamente o conhecimento de Deus, pois então é uma notitia de conclusões colhidas dos princípios teológicos por raciocínio teológico, dispostas em certa ordem e impressas no ânimo por longo trabalho e exercício. Mesmo no auge da ortodoxia a distinção entre fé e teologia não pereceu de todo, como o prova a doutrina dos articuli fundamentales et non fundamentales.

A Reforma rejeitou decididamente a doutrina romana da fides implicita. Tinha de fazê-lo, porque não fazia consistir a fé salvadora em ter por verdadeiros alguns artigos não compreendidos, mas numa confiança pessoal na graça de Deus em Cristo. Mas em lugar disso veio logo a distinção entre artigos fundamentais e não fundamentais. Já Calvino dizia que não se deve separar da igreja por pontos menos essenciais: nem todos os capítulos da verdadeira doutrina são de uma só forma; há alguns tão necessários de conhecer que devem ser fixos e indubitáveis para todos, como próprios princípios da religião — que Deus é um, que Cristo é Deus e Filho de Deus, que a nossa salvação consiste na misericórdia divina —, e há outros que, controvertidos entre as igrejas, nem por isso rompem a unidade da fé. O grande número de igrejas que sucessivamente saíram da Reforma, diferindo entre si em vários artigos, promoveu a distinção entre elementos essenciais e acidentais na revelação; e o sincretismo e o indiferentismo que aos poucos surgiram tornaram necessário indicar o que pertencia aos fundamentos da religião cristã. Assim nasceu a doutrina dos articuli fundamentales. A ortodoxia não estava inclinada a limitar os artigos fundamentais a um número pequeno; mas nota-se nela o esforço de concebê-los centralmente e de agrupá-los em torno da pessoa de Cristo.

Os católicos romanos, porém, rejeitaram essa distinção e puseram os teólogos reformados e luteranos em não pequeno embaraço. Perguntavam onde Deus, em sua palavra, fizera distinção entre verdades essenciais e acidentais; donde se tirava o direito de separar na revelação divina o fundamental do não fundamental; quais verdades haviam então de contar-se entre as fundamentais; quem havia de determiná-lo; e como, em tal ponto de vista, se evitariam o racionalismo e o indiferentismo. Pois a fé, afirmavam eles, tem por objeto não só a misericórdia divina, mas tudo quanto Deus revelou. Contra todas essas objeções os teólogos protestantes apelaram para a Escritura e fizeram toda sorte de distinções; mas não esconderam de si as dificuldades, temiam errar por excesso e por defeito, e acabaram declarando que não podiam determinar o mínimo de conhecimento de que uma fé sincera tem de vir acompanhada. A ortodoxia desembocou de um lado no racionalismo e do outro no pietismo. Doutrina e vida foram-se apartando cada vez mais; cabeça e coração disputaram a precedência; teologia e religião vieram a pôr-se uma contra a outra. Ainda não superamos essa antítese: há anos se ouve o grito de que a religião não é doutrina, mas vida; de que não importa o que se crê, mas apenas como se vive. Aos poucos, porém, os olhos vão-se abrindo também para a unilateralidade dessa direção.

6. Na investigação da relação entre fé e teologia, a pergunta precisa ser posta com pureza. Ela não reza: quais verdades alguém tem ao menos de conhecer e ter por verdadeiras para ser salvo. Deixe-se essa pergunta a Roma. A teologia protestante, na doutrina dos articuli fundamentales, incorreu de fato na aparência de querer seguir tal caminho; mas terminou reconhecendo que não conhecia a grandeza da misericórdia de Deus e que por isso não podia determinar a medida de conhecimento própria de uma fé sincera. E, além disso, entre a doutrina da fides implicita e a dos articuli fundamentales há, com toda a aparente concordância, uma diferença importante: em Roma aquela doutrina desenvolveu-se em vista dos leigos simples; na teologia da Reforma esta teve sua origem no fato de surgirem lado a lado igrejas diversas, com confissões diferentes em muitos pontos — foi, portanto, na verdade, uma investigação sobre a essência do cristianismo. Em Roma a fé é assentimento a toda sorte de verdades reveladas, que se podem somar artigo por artigo e que no correr do tempo aumentaram em número. Mas a Reforma concebeu a fé como fides specialis, com um objeto central determinado, a graça de Deus em Cristo; aqui já não era possível uma soma de artigos cujo conhecimento fosse necessário à salvação. A fé é uma relação pessoal do homem com Cristo; é orgânica e deixou de lado a adição, a quantidade. Roma tinha, pois, de determinar um mínimo, sem o qual não pode haver salvação; na Reforma a fé é confiança na graça de Deus e por isso já não é suscetível de cálculo algum. Todo crente, tanto no Antigo como no Novo Testamento, possui em germe aquele mesmo conhecimento que na teologia é desenvolvido mais profunda e amplamente.

Antes de tudo, há entre as duas forte concordância. Têm em comum o princípio, a palavra de Deus; o objeto, o conhecimento de Deus; e o fim, a honra de Deus. Também a teologia, como ciência, está sobre o fundamento da fé: o lugar que nas outras ciências cabe à observação é aqui ocupado pela fé, que fornece à teologia a matéria para o pensamento. Na ciência mundana diz-se: sensus praecedit intellectum, nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu; na teologia o lema é: fides praecedit intellectum, nihil est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in fide. A teologia não tem conteúdo senão a partir da fé e por meio dela; tão logo largue a fé, ela mesma, como teologia, deixa de existir. E também pelo pensamento nunca se eleva acima desse ponto de vista da fé — tentou-se isso de todas as maneiras, mas em vão. A fé é o começo e também o fim da teologia; esta nunca chega a um conhecer em sentido próprio, isto é, a um conhecer com fundamento na própria observação e na própria compreensão.

Nem por isso a teologia é privada de sua liberdade. A fé apenas põe e mantém aquela relação que neste domínio deve existir entre sujeito e objeto. Ela não coloca o teólogo fora, diante e acima da verdade que tem de investigar, mas debaixo e dentro dela; não faz outra coisa senão ligar a teologia ao seu próprio objeto, não de modo diverso daquele em que toda outra ciência está e permanece ligada à observação. A teologia é tão livre e tão dependente quanto qualquer outra ciência: livre de todos os laços que contrariam a sua natureza, mas inteiramente determinada pelo objeto que procura conhecer. Quanto mais estritamente se liga ao seu objeto, tanto menor o perigo de degenerar em escolástica seca e retórica vazia. Pela fé a teologia permanece uma ciência da religião, uma teologia dos fatos, que pensa não sobre conceitos, mas sobre coisas, e que não se perde em abstrações vazias, mas está com os dois pés naquele mundo de realidades que a Escritura nos revela.

Do outro lado, porém, há entre fé e teologia diferença considerável. Antigamente ambas podiam facilmente ser trocadas uma pela outra, porque teologia e dogmática eram conceitos quase idênticos; mas a teologia tornou-se hoje o nome de todo um ciclo de disciplinas que o crente simples não conhece nem de nome. E, ainda que se tome a teologia no sentido antigo, a distinção permanece grande. Em todo domínio há diferença entre o conhecer comum, cotidiano, empírico, e o conhecer próprio, superior, científico: aquele conhece apenas os facta, este as rationes; e o homem de ciência não despreza o conhecer comum nem derruba a certeza natural, mas tem a vocação de esclarecer esse conhecer comum, de ampliá-lo e, se necessário, também de purificá-lo e melhorá-lo. Não é diferente na teologia. A fé fica nos fatos, a teologia procura penetrar até a ideia. A fé tem bastante com o que, a teologia pergunta pelo porquê e pelo como. A fé é sempre pessoal, põe sempre o objeto em relação com o próprio homem, tem interesse direto no conteúdo religioso dos dogmas; a teologia em certo sentido faz do objeto algo posto diante de si, procura ver a verdade tal como objetivamente existe em si mesma, rastreia a sua unidade e a sua conexão interna e busca chegar a um sistema. A fé dirige-se ao objeto central, a teologia estende a investigação a toda a circunferência do círculo. Mas, por diferentes que sejam, não podem passar uma sem a outra: a fé preserva a teologia da secularização; a teologia preserva a fé do separatismo. Por isso igreja e escola são de fato duas coisas, mas devem estar em estreita conexão — a desproporção que hoje existe quase por toda parte entre igreja e teologia é uma desgraça para ambas.

7. Se a teologia tem, pois, o seu principium internum não na fé como tal, mas no pensamento crente, é preciso determinar mais de perto a tarefa da razão na ciência teológica. Então, antes de tudo, há de ser rejeitada em princípio aquela concepção que vê na fé e na razão dois poderes independentes que lutam entre si até a morte. Com isso se cria uma antítese que não pertence ao terreno cristão: a fé passa a ser sempre supra ou mesmo contra rationem, e de um lado ameaça o racionalismo, do outro o supranaturalismo. A fé, a fides qua creditur, não é um órgão ou uma faculdade ao lado e acima da razão, mas uma disposição, um hábito da própria razão. A razão, ou, se se prefere, o pensamento, certamente não é fonte da teologia, não é princípio pelo qual ou por causa do qual cremos; a razão não é fonte de ciência alguma, ou quando muito somente das ciências formais, a lógica e a matemática. Mas a razão é, ainda assim, o sujeito que recebe a fé, o que é capaz dela: a fé é um ato da consciência humana; um animal não é capaz de crer. E, além disso, a fé não é coação, mas ato livre do homem. O cristão não crê por ordem, nem por medo, nem por violência: o crer tornou-se o habitus natural do seu entendimento — não como se não houvesse a toda hora muita coisa em sua alma que resiste a esse crer, mas de modo que, embora fazendo muitas vezes o que não quer, ele tem prazer na lei de Deus segundo o homem interior. Crer é a respiração natural do filho de Deus; a sua submissão à palavra de Deus não é escravidão, mas liberdade. A fé, nesse sentido, não é sacrificium intellectus, mas sanitas mentis. Por isso a fé não dispensa o cristão da investigação e da reflexão; antes o incita a elas. A natureza não é destruída pela regeneração, mas restaurada. Por isso o crente que quer dedicar-se à teologia tem de preparar de antemão o seu pensamento: não há entrada no templo da teologia senão pela facultas artium — uma propedêutica filosófica, histórica e linguística é indispensável ao cultor da ciência teológica.

Esse pensamento, assim preparado e exercitado, tem então na teologia, no essencial, uma tríplice tarefa. Antes de tudo, presta o seu serviço na descoberta da matéria. A Escritura é o princípio da teologia; mas essa Escritura não é um código de leis, é um todo orgânico, e a matéria da teologia jaz espalhada por toda ela. Com alguns loca probantia nada se consegue: não sobre alguns textos soltos, mas sobre a Escritura em sua totalidade é que o dogma deve ser edificado; ele tem de nascer organicamente dos principia que para ele estão presentes em toda parte na Escritura. A doutrina de Deus, do homem, do pecado, de Cristo está contida não só em alguns textos de prova, mas também em toda sorte de imagens e parábolas, cerimônias e histórias. Nenhuma parte da Escritura pode ser negligenciada: a Escritura inteira prova o sistema inteiro. É característico de muitas seitas partirem de uma pequena porção da Escritura e no mais negligenciá-la inteiramente; o pior e mais difundido é a rejeição ou o descuido do Antigo Testamento — o marcionismo voltou repetidas vezes à igreja cristã e desempenha grande papel também na teologia mais recente. Todo esse uso arbitrário da Sagrada Escritura leva à unilateralidade e ao erro na teologia e à doença na vida religiosa: a imagem plena e rica da verdade não vem então à luz, faz-se injustiça a Cristo em seu ofício profético, ou sacerdotal, ou real, e a religião cristã perde o seu caráter católico. Só a Escritura plena e inteira preserva de todas essas unilateralidades.

Em segundo lugar, o teólogo tem também de elaborar pelo pensamento a matéria assim obtida. Os dogmas não estão na Escritura totidem verbis, segundo a letra, mas segundo o sentido; são conclusiones fidei. A doutrina da trindade, das duas naturezas de Cristo, da satisfação, dos sacramentos não se apoia numa única sentença da Escritura, mas é construída a partir de muitos dados que jazem espalhados por toda ela: os dogmas são o breve resumo, em nossa língua, de tudo o que a Escritura ensina sobre os respectivos assuntos. Por isso teólogos católicos romanos e protestantes defenderam, contra toda sorte de direções que queriam ficar nas expressões literais da Escritura, o direito da terminologia dogmática — e fizeram-no não porque quisessem ser menos, mas porque queriam ser mais e melhor escriturísticos do que elas. Justamente então a Escritura chegava à sua plena honra: quando não se citava literalmente um único texto, mas se resumia e expunha no dogma a verdade inteira, contida em muitos textos. A teologia não é, portanto, apenas noética, mas também dianoética; não é ciência apreensiva, mas discursiva: reflete, compara, julga, resume, deriva outras verdades das já obtidas. Deus não nos chamou a repetir literalmente, mas a pensar até o fim o que Ele em sua revelação pensou para nós.

E, por fim, o pensamento tem na teologia ainda a tarefa de resumir toda a verdade em um sistema. Um sistema é o mais alto que se pode desejar na ciência; também a teologia não descansa enquanto não tiver descoberto a unidade que jaz escondida na revelação. Ela não pode impor esse sistema de fora nem espremer a verdade dentro de um sistema filosófico estranho à sua essência; mas busca até que se reflita na consciência humana o sistema que está presente no próprio objeto. Em tudo isso a teologia procede como as outras ciências: está ligada ao seu objeto, e no pensar está sujeita às leis que valem para esse pensar — também ela não pode pecar impunemente contra a lógica. Por mais que difira das outras ciências em princípio, objeto e fim, formalmente concorda com elas e pode com razão reivindicar o nome de ciência. E porque a revelação não conflita com a razão humana per se, mas apenas per accidens, por causa da corrupção e da má disposição, por isso a teologia pode até, em certo sentido, ser chamada natural e racional. A religião cristã é um culto racional (Rm 12.1).

8. Mas, ainda que o conhecimento na teologia seja alcançável, ela não chega à compreensão. Entre saber, conhecer e compreender há grande distinção: o saber diz respeito à existência, ao que uma coisa é; o conhecer, à qualidade, ao quê; o compreender, à possibilidade interna, ao como de uma coisa. Compreendemos muito pouco — na verdade, só aquilo que está inteiramente em nosso poder, que podemos fazer e desfazer, e em que nada de admirável resta. A compreensão exclui o espanto e a admiração. Muitas vezes a compreensão cessa à medida que se investiga mais fundo: o que parecia evidente por si mesmo revela-se inteiramente insólito e admirável. Quanto mais uma ciência penetra em seu objeto, tanto mais se aproxima do mistério; e ainda que não encontrasse nenhum outro em seu caminho, no fim esbarraria sempre no mistério do ser. Onde, porém, cessa a compreensão, resta ainda lugar para o conhecer e para o admirar. Assim é também na teologia: na revelação foi-nos aberto o mistério da piedade, o mistério da graça de Deus — nós o vemos, ele nos confronta como realidade na história e na própria vida, mas não o sondamos. Nesse sentido a teologia cristã tem sempre que ver com mistérios, que ela pode conhecer e admirar, mas não compreender e sondar.

Muitas vezes, porém, o mistério foi entendido na teologia cristã num sentido inteiramente diverso. No Novo Testamento a palavra tem sempre significado religioso e denota uma coisa do reino de Deus que está escondida, ou pela forma enigmática em que é apresentada, ou também por seu conteúdo; especialmente assim se chama o decreto universal do conselho de Deus acerca da redenção em Cristo, abrangendo também os gentios. Mas esse mysterium é assim chamado não porque agora ainda esteja escondido, mas porque antes era desconhecido: agora foi justamente manifestado pelo evangelho de Cristo e daqui por diante vem cada vez mais à luz na história. O mistério do Novo Testamento não denota, pois, uma verdade de fé incompreensível ao intelecto pensante, mas uma coisa que primeiro esteve escondida em Deus, depois foi dada a conhecer no evangelho e agora é entendida pelos crentes.

Mas o uso eclesiástico logo entendeu por ela uma coisa incompreensível, que ultrapassa de longe o entendimento do crente — a encarnação, a unio mystica, os sacramentos, e mais tarde todos os articuli puri que não podiam ser provados pela razão. Mesmo assim permanecia grande diferença entre o uso pagão e o cristão: lá se tratava de uma doutrina secreta que devia ser mantida oculta dos não iniciados, ao passo que na igreja cristã nunca existiu propriamente uma disciplina arcana. Mas os dogmas eram, apesar disso, verdades de fé não compreendidas e incompreensíveis, não contra, é certo, mas altamente supra rationem; e o Concílio Vaticano declarou que os mistérios divinos excedem por sua própria natureza o intelecto criado de tal modo que, ainda quando transmitidos pela revelação e recebidos pela fé, permanecem cobertos pelo véu da própria fé, enquanto peregrinamos nesta vida mortal longe do Senhor.

A Reforma reconheceu o caráter supranatural da revelação, mas de fato introduziu aqui uma grande mudança. Para Roma os mistérios são incompreensíveis em primeiro lugar por pertencerem a outra ordem, superior, sobrenatural, que ultrapassa de longe o entendimento do homem como tal; ela tem, portanto, de pôr toda a ênfase na incompreensibilidade dos mistérios e mantê-la — o incompreensível parece ser em si mesmo uma prova da verdade: é crível porque é inepto, é certo porque é impossível, dizia Tertuliano. Mas a Reforma substituiu essa oposição entre ordem natural e sobrenatural pela oposição entre pecado e graça: buscou a essência do mistério não em que ele fosse incompreensível ao homem em si, mas em que o é ao entendimento do homem psíquico. Sem dúvida essa visão concorda muito mais com o uso do Novo Testamento, onde em parte alguma o abstratamente sobrenatural e o cientificamente incompreensível do mistério estão em primeiro plano. Mas, enquanto é loucura aos olhos do homem natural, por sábio que seja, o mistério é revelado aos crentes, que nele veem sabedoria e graça divinas. Naturalmente a Escritura não pretende com isso dar a entender que o crente compreende esses mistérios em sentido científico, pois andamos por fé, conhecemos em parte e vemos por espelho, em enigma. Mas o crente, ainda assim, conhece esses mistérios; eles já não lhe são loucura nem escândalo; ele admira neles a sabedoria e o amor de Deus. Por isso não lhe ocorre que eles ultrapassem a sua razão, que sejam supra rationem; ele não os sente como um fardo pesado, mas como uma libertação para o seu pensamento. A sua fé passa a admiração, o seu conhecimento termina em adoração, e a sua confissão desemboca em cântico de louvor e ação de graças. Dessa natureza é também o conhecimento de Deus a que a teologia visa. Não é um saber apenas, e muito menos um compreender; mas é melhor e mais glorioso: é um conhecimento que é vida, vida eterna (Jo 17.3).

O nome dogmática é recente, mas a coisa é antiga. Dogma, de dokein, é o que está firmemente decidido, e comum a todos os usos da palavra é que na base dela está sempre uma autoridade; nos dogmas políticos, o governo; nos filosóficos, a força das provas; nos teológicos, unicamente o testemunho de Deus, e não a fixação eclesiástica, como quer Schleiermacher. Por isso volta repetidamente entre os teólogos reformados a proposição: o princípio em que se resolvem todos os dogmas teológicos é Dominus dixit, o Senhor disse. Há contudo no dogma um elemento social, donde a distinção entre o dogma quoad se, que repousa na autoridade de Deus abstraído de todo reconhecimento, e o dogma quoad nos, que é a confissão; mas uma proposição não é dogma porque a igreja a reconhece, ainda que o reconhecimento da igreja seja prova importante — e sempre falível — de sua verdade. O conceito formal, ciência dos dogmas, é insuficiente. Historicamente o objeto da dogmática migrou de Deus para o homem, para a religião, para a fé; e a dogmática que apenas descreve um fenômeno histórico deixa de ser ciência da verdade, pois a ciência não se contenta com a descrição do que é, mas deve indicar o que há de valer como verdade: não o que, mas o porquê; não o real, mas o necessário. Tudo em teologia se considera sub ratione Dei, e quem alega contra isso a incognoscibilidade de Deus prova demais, pois com ela cai também a religião, que é edificada sobre o conhecimento de Deus. A dogmática é, portanto, o sistema científico do conhecimento de Deus, isto é, daquele conhecimento que Ele, acerca de si mesmo e acerca de toda a criatura enquanto em relação a Ele, revelou em sua Palavra à igreja.

Ela pertence por isso à teologia sistemática e não à histórica. Schleiermacher fez dela a estatística da doutrina que vale numa igreja; mas a comunidade cristã não se contenta com um relatório objetivo do conteúdo de sua fé e exige que essa fé seja exposta como verdade, e o dogmático não se coloca neutro fora e diante dela. Entre as disciplinas irmãs — symbolica, catechetica, elenctica — cabe à dogmática expor os thesauri Sacrae Scripturae em forma científica. Ela não é, contudo, ela mesma a Palavra de Deus: é uma forma e uma imago da doctrina coelestis, tentativa humana e falível de pensar e dizer depois aquilo que Deus falou pelos profetas e pelo Filho. Entre dogmática e ética não há diferença de princípio, pois a ética teológica não tem princípio próprio e radica-se toda na dogmática; a distinção só pode estar em que na dogmática o homem é passivo, recebe e crê, e na ética ele mesmo aparece agindo: aquela é o sistema do conhecimento de Deus, esta o do serviço de Deus.

No método entram três dados — a Escritura, a confissão da igreja e a convicção pessoal do dogmático —, e a relação em que são postos decide o ponto de partida, o caminho e o resultado. Nenhuma das três direções unilaterais se sustenta. A crítica, que quer derivar do sujeito toda verdade religiosa, está em conflito com a psicologia: todo o nosso conhecimento vem de fora, não há ideae innatae, e o sentimento nunca é um prius, sempre um posterius. A romana, que vincula o homem à igreja infalível e faz do Papa dixit o fim de toda contradição, foi contradita em todos os séculos, e não pela incredulidade, mas por motivos religiosos. E a bíblica ilude-se com uma objetividade impossível, pois todo dogmático vem à Escritura como cristão reformado, luterano ou romano, e a ninguém é dado desfazer-se do seu meio. Pedagogicamente a igreja precede a Escritura; segundo a ordem lógica a Escritura é o principium unicum, e em caso de divergência igreja e confissão cedem, sendo a confissão quando muito norma secundaria. Não a igreja, mas a Escritura é autopistos, judex controversiarum, sui ipsius interpres. E ela não é apenas norma, mas fonte no sentido de principium: os dogmas não estão prontos na Escritura, mas nela está contida a sua matéria, os germes de que eles crescem sob o ensino do Espírito na igreja. O caráter pessoal da dogmática permanece — a revelação objetiva completa-se na iluminação subjetiva, no testimonium Spiritus Sancti —, mas nunca autoriza negar o objeto próprio e cognoscível: de caráter pessoal só se pode falar depois de estabelecido que a dogmática tem objeto. O método vai da fonte para o rio: sintético, genético, sistemático, com a tarefa crítica nele incluída.

A divisão nasceu com a dogmática e amadureceu por etapas, até que a escolástica, antepondo a essência da teologia e a doutrina da Escritura, criou os prolegômenos, e a Reforma, com a autoridade exclusiva da Escritura, obrigou também Roma a prestar contas dos principia, até a introdução virar dogmática fundamental inteira com a igreja como principium fidei. Reformadores e ortodoxos preferiram a divisão sintética, que começa por Deus e desce às suas obras, porque ela segue o mesmo curso histórico que Deus delineou em sua revelação; as reações analítica de Calixto e Keckermann e federalista de Coccejus trocam o ponto de vista teológico pelo antropológico e por isso falham. A filosofia empobreceu a pars materialis e inchou a pars formalis, e com os praeambula fidei e os motiva credibilitatis trocou o ponto de partida da fé pelo da razão; mas os principia fidei são também articuli fidei, que repousam não sobre raciocínios humanos, mas sobre autoridade divina, e na dogmática, do princípio ao fim, quem tem a palavra é o crente. O princípio de divisão deve derivar do objeto, não do sujeito crente: rejeitada a trinitária, que é especulativa demais e se torna teogonia, e rejeitada a cristológica, pois Cristo é o centro e precisamente por isso não é o ponto de partida, resta a divisão teológica e histórico-genética, em que Deus aparece como Criador, Restaurador e Consumador — exemplar efetivo na criação, refetivo na redenção, perfetivo na retribuição. A dogmática não é, portanto, ciência seca: é uma teodiceia, um hino de louvor a todas as perfeições de Deus.

A Escritura não é uma dogmática. É a mina de ouro; é a igreja que dela extrai o ouro, o cunha e o converte em moeda corrente, e essa é obra de toda a igreja através de todos os séculos. A teologia nasceu não da igreja e para a igreja, mas por ocasião da defesa contra os ataques dirigidos ao cristianismo, e nasceu com o auxílio da filosofia. A diferença entre gnósticos e apologistas não está no ritmo da helenização, como quer Harnack, mas em que naqueles o uso da filosofia foi material e o conteúdo absoluto da religião cristã se perdeu, e nestes o uso foi formal e esse conteúdo foi preservado. Oriente e Ocidente divergem por princípio: lá a substância, a natureza, a encarnação, o místico-litúrgico; aqui a relação de culpa diante de um Deus justo, a obra de Cristo, o jurídico e o político — e daí o cisma. Todo o desenvolvimento culmina em Agostinho, que não deixou sistema e cuja doutrina da igreja não se concilia com a da graça, mas que pensou mais profundamente que qualquer outro todos os problemas teológicos: é Doctor universalis, o dogmático da igreja cristã. A escolástica é em si apenas teologia científica, que começa onde a positiva termina, tomando os dogmas como seus principia; o que a pôs em descrédito foi o abandono do estudo das fontes, a absorção de matéria filosófica e a forma de questionário. E também reformado e luterano diferem por princípio: aquele é teológico e não descansa enquanto não rastreia tudo até o decreto eterno, de modo que a eleição é o cor ecclesiae; este é antropológico e fica no meio da história da salvação, de modo que a justificação é o articulus stantis et cadentis ecclesiae. Ali a primeira questão é como Deus chega à sua honra; aqui, como o homem chega à salvação.

Principium é termo herdado de Aristóteles: aquilo de que algo é, ou vem a ser, ou é conhecido; vale no domínio do ser e no do conhecer, donde a tríade principium essendi, existendi, cognoscendi — toda causa é princípio, nem todo princípio é causa. Deus é o principium essendi da teologia, pois nenhum conhecimento de Deus é possível senão de Deus e por Deus; seu autoconhecimento é o principium essendi do nosso conhecimento dele, e sem a autoconsciência de Deus não há conhecimento de Deus nas criaturas: o panteísmo é a morte da teologia. Aquele conhecimento é a theologia archetypa, o nosso é a theologia ectypa, impressão finita e acomodada à consciência criatural. O principium cognoscendi é a autorrevelação de Deus, que só pode ser aparição, palavra e ação; e se essa autorrevelação está depositada na Escritura ou na igreja, estas têm apenas significação instrumental, causa efficiens instrumentalis. Mas o fim da teologia é que a criatura racional conheça a Deus e, conhecendo-o, o glorifique; a revelação não pode, pois, terminar fora do homem, mas deve prosseguir para dentro dele. Daí o principium cognoscendi externum e o internum, e daí ser o verbum internum o verbum principale, e o verbum externum apenas instrumentale. Estes três principia, distintos e contudo essencialmente um, repousam no ser trinitário de Deus: é o Pai que, pelo Filho como Logos, no Espírito, se comunica às suas criaturas.

O mesmo se dá em toda ciência, que é sempre uma relação lógica entre sujeito e objeto. As duas direções opostas fracassam ambas. O racionalismo identifica o órgão com a fonte do conhecimento e deriva o pensamento do pensar, mas do abstractum estéril não se explica o mundo vivo, e o rochedo em que naufraga todo panteísmo é a multiplicidade: o idealismo tem de acabar em ilusionismo. O empirismo submete o espírito ao mundo e acaba em materialismo; mas a experiência ensina que algo é assim, nunca que não possa ser de outro modo, e todas as ciências partem de proposições indemonstráveis, pois não há regresso ao infinito e uma argumentação só pode assentar sobre um fundamento que está firme por evidência, e não por prova. Entre pensar e ser há aqui um abismo que nem o idealismo nem o materialismo transpõem, e não é temerário falar não só de um ignoramus, mas de um ignorabimus. O ponto de partida correto é a certeza natural e imediata da realidade do mundo exterior, que não nasce de silogismo algum, é anterior a toda reflexão e é fundamento, não produto, de toda outra certeza. A epistemologia cristã mantém as duas coisas: que o intelecto é no princípio pura potência, tabula rasa, in qua nihil scriptum est, despertado de fora pelos sentidos, e que, uma vez em ação, trabalha de pronto segundo a sua própria natureza, formando involuntariamente aqueles princípios que estão firmes a priori e merecem o nome de veritates aeternae, e abstraindo das coisas o elemento lógico que nelas já jaz. Contra o nominalismo, que é o fim de toda ciência, o realismo in re tem razão; e essa convicção só pode repousar na fé de que é um só e o mesmo Logos que criou a realidade fora de nós e as leis do pensamento em nós. Também aqui há, portanto, três principia: Deus como principium essendi, o mundo criado como principium cognoscendi externum — não um caderno de escrever, em que nós tivéssemos de preencher as palavras, mas um livro de leitura, do qual Deus nos dá a conhecer o que nele escreveu para nós — e o intelecto derivado do Logos como internum.

Também a religião tem os seus principia, e para achá-los é preciso partir da religio vera, não de um conceito neutro comum a todas as religiões; o indiferentismo é insustentável, porque toda religião inclui um conhecer e põe a realidade do seu objeto, e as religiões não se consideram umas às outras como inferior e superior, mas como verdadeira e falsa. A religio objectiva tem a precedência: o homem nasce dentro dela, cresce nela como na família e no Estado, e a disposição religiosa modifica e anima as representações existentes, mas nunca as cria — fundadores de religião, no sentido próprio, não existem. E todas as religiões se apresentam como fruto de revelação: não há religião sem revelação. Formalmente todas concordam, pois todas se compõem de tradição, dogma, moral e culto; a proposição corrente deve, pois, ser invertida: as religiões diferem em essência e concordam em forma. A religião não tem sede numa faculdade — nem no entendimento, como quer Hegel, nem na vontade, como querem Kant e o eticismo, nem no sentimento, como quer Schleiermacher; cada concepção contém um elemento verdadeiro e erra ao absolutizá-lo. A religião abrange o homem inteiro, cabeça, coração e mão, e é central onde a ciência, a moral e a arte são parciais. As explicações histórica e psicológica da origem da religião fracassam todas: deixam a ideia de Deus inexplicada, fazem de Deus um socorro na necessidade e um produto do egoísmo do homem, e tornam a religião obra do acaso — pois exigem que ela seja explicada a partir de fatores que em si mesmos ainda não são religiosos, e tal homem sem Deus é abstração que na realidade nunca existiu. Só há religião porque Deus é e quer ser servido pelas suas criaturas: Ele é o principium essendi; a revelação externa é o cognoscendi externum; e a receptividade da natureza humana para o divino, o semen religionis, o sensus divinitatis, é o internum. Deus não faz obra pela metade: não cria apenas a luz, mas também o olho para contemplá-la.

Revelação é conceito religioso, não filosófico: não a filosofia, mas a religião o põe em nossas mãos. Ela é sempre uma ação, um ato consciente e livre de Deus para pôr o homem naquela relação com Ele que se chama religião e nela conservá-lo; nunca uma emanação inconsciente. Religião e revelação são por isso duas coisas distintas, não dois lados de uma só; e a relação religiosa não é unio physica, mas ética, pois Deus não tem religião. O teísmo é de si supranaturalista, reconhecendo uma ordo supra hanc naturam: religião, revelação, supranaturalismo e teísmo estão e caem juntos; o deísmo é insustentável, e a verdadeira antítese ao supranatural não é o deísmo racionalista, mas o naturalismo. Toda revelação é, em sua origem, supranatural, e em seu modo mediata, pois finitum non est capax infiniti e toda revelação é uma certa encarnação de Deus; por isso a distinção entre natural e sobrenatural não coincide com a de geral e especial, e esta última é preferível. A revelação geral é insuficiente: nada sabe da pessoa de Cristo, não conhece graça nem perdão, é escassa, incerta, sempre misturada com erro e inatingível para a imensa maioria, e nenhum povo se contentou jamais com uma religio naturalis. Mas conserva pleno valor: é o fundamento firme das religiões pagãs, dá ao cristão um ponto de contato com todos os que trazem o nome de homem, mantém viva a necessidade metafísica e impede que o homem se rebaixe a animal. Sobretudo, mantém em conexão indissolúvel a natureza e a graça, a criação e a recriação, o mundo da realidade e o mundo dos valores; quem a nega renova em princípio o maniqueísmo. A natureza precede a graça, a graça aperfeiçoa a natureza.

Toda revelação, em qualquer religião, vem por três vias — teofania, profecia e milagre —, e o cristianismo não se distingue por não as ter, mas porque nele a iniciativa não é do homem, e sim de Deus: no paganismo é o homem que busca a Deus e o arrasta para o pó; na Escritura é sempre Deus quem busca o homem. O que no etnicismo ocorre em caricatura tornou-se em Israel sombra e imagem e aqui realidade verdadeira e espiritual. A revelação especial não é um punhado de palavras e fatos desconexos, mas um todo histórico e orgânico, um sistema de atos de Deus, cujo centro é a encarnação: teofania, profecia e milagre desembocam em Cristo e nele coincidem. Ela é soteriológica, mas em sentido escriturístico, e não apenas intelectual, moral ou místico: seu conteúdo não é doutrina, nem vida, nem emoção do ânimo, mas tudo isso junto, uma ordo gratiae que combate e vence a ordo peccati em todo terreno, e o objeto dessa salvação é o cosmos inteiro. Contra o supranaturalismo de Roma, que fez da revelação um donum superadditum e edificou a escada de pura naturalia à visio Dei, deve manter-se que a revelação não se opõe à natureza, mas ao pecado: a Reforma converteu a antítese quantitativa numa qualitativa — natura commendat gratiam, gratia emendat naturam. E contra o naturalismo deve manter-se que as chamadas leis da natureza não são potência que exerça domínio sobre os fenômenos, mas apenas uma descrição, muitas vezes defeituosa e sempre falível, do modo como operam as forças que estão na natureza. Não há perfuração da natureza: no milagre não se produz mudança alguma nas potências nem nas leis, apenas entra uma potência que opera segundo lei própria; e esse milagre foi desde o princípio acolhido por Deus no seu plano do mundo. Israel a preparação, Cristo o centro, a igreja o desdobramento, a parusia a coroa — esse é o cordão que ata os fatos da revelação.

Revelação e Escritura não se relacionam por acidente. A revelação é história, é actus transiens, e só se torna propriedade permanente da humanidade assumindo a forma de servo da escrita: assim como o pensamento se incorpora na palavra, a palavra se incorpora na escrita, e a escrita é a encarnação da palavra. A Escritura brota da encarnação de Deus em Cristo e é, em certo sentido, a sua continuação. Contra os dois extremos — a teologia antiga, que absorve a revelação na teopneustia, e a moderna, que desliga a Escritura da revelação e faz dela apenas o seu documento — deve dizer-se que a teopneustia é um elemento da revelação, o seu ato final, a sua coroa e publicação. Nada sabemos, literalmente nada, das revelações de Deus sob Israel e em Cristo senão pela Escritura: com ela cai toda a revelação, e cai também a própria pessoa de Cristo. Concluída a revelação em Cristo, a Escritura está concluída, e nesta dispensação a revelação prossegue na Escritura e na igreja em conjunto: a Escritura é a luz da igreja, a igreja é a vida da Escritura. A inspiração é um fato ensinado pela própria Escritura, e o seu autotestemunho não pode ser corrigido pelos chamados fenômenos apurados pela crítica, pois dogma nenhum se edifica sobre investigação histórico-crítica; a inspiração é dogma como a Trindade e a encarnação, confissão de fé e não pronunciamento científico. E ela deve ser concebida organicamente: o Espírito não desceu de uma vez sobre os escritores, mas entrou neles, no seu caráter, na sua língua e no seu estilo, que ele mesmo havia preparado, de sorte que a Escritura é inteiramente produto do Espírito de Deus e ao mesmo tempo inteiramente produto da atividade dos escritores — tudo divino e tudo humano. Precisamente porque é de ponta a ponta religiosa, ela fala a língua da observação e não a da escola, não decide entre Ptolomeu e Copérnico, e por isso pode durar até o fim dos tempos: é antiga sem jamais envelhecer.

A doutrina das propriedades da Escritura nasceu inteira da polêmica contra Roma e contra o anabatismo. Roma inverteu a relação entre Escritura e igreja até o papa infalível, e com isso a infalibilidade do papa tornou desnecessária a da própria Escritura. A autoridade só pode repousar sobre a inspiração; a igreja pode reconhecer o que é, não pode fazer o que não é, e a acusação de círculo devolve-se a Roma, que prova a igreja pela Escritura e a Escritura pela igreja. Caído o fundamento da inspiração, nenhuma autoridade se sustenta, e a chamada autoridade moral confunde conceitos e entrega a Escritura à crítica do sujeito; mas a religião não pode contentar-se com menos que uma autoridade divina, pois sem essa certeza não há consolo na vida nem no morrer. A necessidade não é absoluta, mas ex hypothesi beneplacentiae Dei, e não é propriedade estável, e sim sempre crescente; o protestantismo que a nega enfraquece a si mesmo e trabalha na edificação de Roma, pois não tem órgão infalível algum, nem no instituto, nem no organismo, nem nos membros. A clareza não afirma que tudo na Escritura seja claro, mas que a verdade necessária à salvação está exposta em forma tão simples que aquele a quem importa a salvação de sua alma pode aprendê-la pela própria leitura, sem auxílio de igreja e de sacerdote; dela dependem a liberdade do cristão e também as liberdades políticas, e uma liberdade que só se possui com o perigo do arbítrio é sempre preferível a uma tirania que suprime toda liberdade. E a suficiência: quantitativamente a revelação foi maior que a Escritura, mas qualitativamente esta é perfeita para a nossa salvação. O critério da tradição migrou sucessivamente da apostolicidade para a catolicidade, desta para a sucessão episcopal e desta para a decisão papal — Roma locuta, res finita —, e as duas não se podem manter uma ao lado da outra: o que se retira de uma é conferido à outra, e a tradição só sobe na medida em que a Escritura desce. A Reforma reconhece apenas uma traditio e Scriptura fluens.

Ao principium externum deve corresponder no homem um principium internum, porque toda a vida humana repousa numa correspondência recíproca entre sujeito e objeto: o homem em nada é autônomo, vive do que lhe é dado, isto é, da graça. A receptividade religiosa é real, mas é abstração, pois nunca ocorre em estado puro: a religião nos é impressa pelo meio como a língua materna, e a regra é que se morre na religião em que se nasceu. Investigar os fundamentos do crer é legítimo, mas é muito mais difícil que investigar os do saber, e nunca substitui a fé: a teoria do conhecimento não compensa a fé, e a pars formalis da dogmática não pode substituir a pars materialis. Entendimento, razão e coração falham todos como órgão da fé, porque todos pressupõem um homem que ainda está fora da fé e diante do qual a revelação teria de justificar-se; ora, a revelação declara corrompido o homem psíquico também na sua disposição religiosa, e destruiria a si mesma se nele reconhecesse o seu juiz competente. O órgão é o Espírito Santo. Deus é o principium essendi da religião e da teologia; a revelação em Cristo, depositada na Escritura, é o principium cognoscendi externum; e o Espírito derramado na congregação é o internum. A revelação objetiva é meio, a subjetiva é fim. Daí o testimonium Spiritus Sancti, que em Roma se exprime só pela igreja como instituto, pelo magistério, pelo papa, e que na Reforma é propriedade de todos os crentes — porque a essência da igreja não está no instituto, mas na assembleia dos crentes, que é a habitação de Deus, o corpo de Cristo, o templo do Espírito Santo.

Três caminhos foram tentados para justificar a fé, e os três falham. O primeiro é o histórico-apologético: desde os apologistas do século II acumulou-se um arsenal de provas externas, reunido pela escolástica sob o nome de motiva credibilitatis e coroado por Roma, depois da Reforma, com o argumento tirado da própria igreja. Essas provas só produzem fides humana e a razoabilidade de crer: tornam a revelação evidenter credibilis, nunca evidenter vera, pois o fundamento último é a autoridade de Deus, e a fé só vem por um auxilium dei. A valorização romana da apologética é solidária da escada que vai de pura naturalia à visio Dei pelos degraus da theologia naturalis, dos motiva credibilitatis, dos actus praeparatorii e da gratia infusa. A Reforma rompeu com isso em princípio, mas os protestantes recaíram nas provas históricas — daí o socinianismo, o remonstrantismo, o cartesianismo, o deísmo, o supranaturalismo —, e o supranaturalismo tem de conduzir sempre ao racionalismo, porque em princípio já é racionalista. A apologética tem pleno direito de existir, mas só depois da fé, sobre o fundamento da dogmática e não antes dela: se a revelação se submetesse de antemão ao juízo da razão do homem pecador, colocar-se-ia diante de um tribunal cuja competência primeiro negara. Ademais a via histórica é praticamente interminável, a pars formalis dilatar-se-ia até não sobrar lugar para a pars materialis, ela é inacessível ao homem simples, que hoje e não amanhã precisa do consolo da fé, e no melhor caso rende apenas uma fides humana que amanhã outra investigação derruba. E a própria pergunta romana — em que repousa a fé na igreja? — desemboca no testimonium Spiritus Sancti, que é assim a pedra angular da fé cristã.

O segundo caminho é o especulativo. Caído o supranaturalismo, o romantismo entronizou o sujeito, e Hegel operou a restauração conservando o mesmo ponto de partida: a história é apenas a casca, o cerne é a filosofia, e os dogmas são deduzidos da razão fora da Escritura e fora de toda autoridade. A escola de Schleiermacher chega ao mesmo lugar por outra porta, entregando à filosofia a justificação do cristianismo, e a teologia de mediação soma esse ponto de partida ao método dialético de Hegel para elevar a fé a saber. Há verdade no ponto de partida: pensar e ser se correspondem. Mas o erro primordial da filosofia especulativa é identificá-los. Do pensar não se conclui ao ser, porque o ser das criaturas não é emanação do pensamento, mas repousa num ato de poder, e o pensar humano pressupõe o criado: só podemos repensar o que antes de nós foi pensado. E o cristianismo não é sistema lógico de pensamentos, é história, história da graça, e a graça é algo mais que uma conclusão lógica; por isso nem o pensador mais profundo ultrapassa jamais, na religião cristã, o ponto de vista infantil da autoridade e da fé. Frank faz pergunta legítima — como chega o homem à certeza —, mas dá um sistema onde cabia apenas a indicação dos fundamentos, confunde continuamente a causa essendi com a causa cognoscendi e faz da necessidade do pôr o fundamento último da realidade objetiva; a certeza é um estado da alma e como tal exclui sistema.

O terceiro é o ético-psicológico, que apresenta o cristianismo não como doutrina demonstrável nem como fato provável, mas como poder religioso-ético que se recomenda ao coração e à consciência de quem já traz uma disposição moral prévia; honrado por Pascal e por Vinet, foi depois radicalizado contra as provas históricas, e a prova moral de Kant é sua parente — ainda que em Kant se note a oscilação entre postulados objetivamente lógicos, que então deveriam ser conhecimento, e postulados fundados na disposição moral do indivíduo. Dessa separação kantiana entre fenômeno e númeno, entre crer e saber, vivem os modernos éticos e, na Alemanha, Ritschl e Lipsius. Esse método merece preferência sobre os outros dois, pois a satisfação do coração e da consciência é o selo e a coroa da religião, e uma verdade que não contém consolo deixa por isso mesmo de ser verdade religiosa. Mas como prova ele fracassa: algum consolo se encontra em todas as religiões, e as necessidades a que uma religião corresponde ou foram despertadas por ela mesma — e então a sua satisfação prova pouco — ou nasceram sob outra, e então faltam por inteiro. A experiência, além disso, não alcança nenhum dos doze artigos de fé: que Deus é Criador do céu e da terra, que Cristo é o Filho unigênito de Deus, não é suscetível de experiência alguma, e reduzir a religião ao religioso-ético é a velha e sempre vã separação entre ideia e fato. Juízos de valor dependem de juízos de ser e caem com eles: se Cristo não é verdadeiramente Deus, tampouco pode ter para o cristão o valor de Deus. E a decisão sobre a realidade das coisas não cabe à vontade nem ao sentimento, mas ao consciente: o caminho para o coração é pavimentado pela cabeça. A direção inteira termina em dualismo entre crer e saber, e esse dualismo destrói a unidade do espírito do homem, a unidade da ciência e da verdade, a unidade do mundo e a unidade do próprio Ser divino.

O principium internum, portanto, não está no intelecto, na razão ou no coração do homem psíquico: deve ser da mesma natureza que o principium externum, assim como a luz só pode ser percebida pelo olho. Por isso a Escritura não se submete ao juízo do homem natural, mas leva ao reconhecimento da sua verdade não por provas e raciocínios, e sim pela instrução do Espírito Santo; e por isso o dogmático toma posição não antes nem fora, mas dentro da fé, e a dúvida metódica de Descartes não está em seu lugar nem na filosofia nem na teologia. O ponto de partida subjetivo é comum a toda ciência, pois tudo o que é objetivo só existe para nós por mediação da consciência; o subjetivismo só nasce quando o órgão indispensável à percepção é elevado a fonte do conhecimento. A esse principium internum convém o nome de fé, primeiro porque ela é ato da consciência, e a uma promessa nada pode corresponder de nossa parte senão a fé; e depois porque assim se preserva a continuidade com todo o restante conhecer do homem: crer não é um sexto sentido nem um donum superadditum, e de longe a maior parte, e a mais importante, do que sabemos não repousa sobre provas, mas sobre certeza imediata. Mas a fé religiosa distingue-se dessa certeza em três pontos: o seu objeto é invisível; o seu fundamento não é a própria intelecção, mas a de outro, o testemunho dos apóstolos, pois ela tem por objeto, na palavra de Calvino, Christum evangelio suo vestitum; e a sua origem não é natural, pois Deus é o seu autor. Roma reduziu a fé a assensus e por isso não tem senão uma fides historica, que precisa ser suplementada pelo amor e se torna fides formata, perdendo o seu lugar central; a Reforma restaurou-lhe a natureza religiosa e o lugar central. E a certeza moral de Kant não pode substituir a certeza da fé, pois a certeza é sempre um estado da consciência, e o dualismo de cabeça e coração que ele supõe não existe: crer e saber não se distinguem quanto à certeza — a certitudo adhaesionis é na fé maior, ainda que a certitudo speculationis possa ser menor. Mas o crer não é, por si, prova alguma da verdade daquilo em que se crê: na fé, tudo depende dos fundamentos sobre os quais ela repousa.

E esse fundamento nenhuma prova intelectual ou histórica pode ser. Roma, apesar da igreja e do papa infalíveis, acaba no mesmo ponto de partida subjetivo da Reforma: Cano remete à graça que interiormente o move, mas não diz sobre que fundamento reconhece como divino o testemunho de Deus; Suárez cai em petição de princípio e em progressus in infinitum; Lugo, ao fazer o crente ver a revelação imediatamente como divina, ou postula uma nova revelação no sujeito ou recai nos motiva credibilitatis. O fundamento mais profundo recua sempre para o lumen interius. Ora, o testemunho que o espírito humano dá à verdade que lhe vem de fora — pois todo conhecer é reprodução, não criação, e toda verdade faz de quem a conhece uma testemunha — é pressuposto, fundamento e analogia do testimonium Spiritus Sancti. Mas analogia não é identidade: à revelação especial de Deus em Cristo tem de corresponder um principium internum especial, pois quem é de Deus ouve as palavras de Deus. A Escritura é autopistos, como o são a lei moral e os prima principia, que estão firmes só pela fé e para a fé; o Deus dixit é o primum principium a que todos os dogmas, também o referente à Escritura, se reduzem, e o vínculo da alma com ela é de natureza mística, está atrás da consciência e por baixo das provas. As notae e os critérios não são os fundamentos dessa fé, mas propriedades descobertas depois na Escritura pelo pensamento crente, assim como as provas da existência de Deus não precedem a fé, mas dela procedem. O objeto próprio desse testemunho não é a autenticidade, nem a canonicidade, nem sequer a inspiração, mas a divinitas da Escritura; e ele não é opinião de um spiritus privatus, mas o testemunho da igreja de todos os séculos, o sim e o amém que a congregação pronuncia sobre a verdade de Deus. Tão longe está de ser o calcanhar de Aquiles do protestantismo, que antes merece o nome de pedra angular da confissão cristã, o triunfo dos pensamentos de Deus sobre as deliberações do homem.

Resta que o impulso à ciência não está encerrado na fé, pois a fé é certeza e nela tem o bastante; e por isso o direito da teologia foi contestado desde os gnosímacos até Ritschl e Harnack, para quem a teologia é fruto do casamento inoportuno celebrado entre o cristianismo original e a filosofia grega. Há seriedade e verdade nessas queixas, e à teologia convém mais que a qualquer outra ciência a admoestação de não pensar de si mais alto do que convém: antes um honesto non liquet do que uma conjectura ousada. Mas elas não a condenam em princípio, pois a revelação é um sistema de palavras e obras de Deus e contém um mundo de pensamentos, e a religião não é sentimento somente, mas também fé, vida consciente, um servir a Deus com o coração e a cabeça juntos; o abuso não suprime o uso. E quem quer separar o cristianismo da metafísica é forçado a formar para si uma representação unilateral do evangelho, a voltar não à Escritura inteira mas a uma parte dela, e por fim a opor a Jesus não só a igreja e a teologia, mas os próprios apóstolos: não foi a igreja que venceu o mundo, foi o mundo que venceu a igreja. O dogma não se explica pela filosofia grega, mas tampouco surgiu sem ela: os pais escolheram ecleticamente, não adotaram sistema algum e produziram com o auxílio da filosofia grega uma filosofia cristã própria, usando-a apenas como auxiliar, subordinada à teologia. O verdadeiro principium cognoscendi internum da teologia não é, pois, a fé como tal, mas o pensamento crente, a ratio christiana; e por isso a teologia não é fruto da ecclesia instituta, mas nasce na igreja como organismo, é fruto do pensamento da cristandade. Fé e teologia distinguem-se como habitus e actus: a fé fica nos fatos, a teologia procura penetrar até a ideia; a fé tem bastante com o que, a teologia pergunta pelo porquê e pelo como; a fé dirige-se ao objeto central, a teologia estende a investigação a toda a circunferência do círculo. Mas nenhuma passa sem a outra: a fé preserva a teologia da secularização, a teologia preserva a fé do separatismo. Roma, com a sua fides implicita, resolveu a questão quantitativamente e teve de contar dois artigos, depois quatro; a Reforma, concebendo a fé como fides specialis, confiança pessoal na graça de Deus em Cristo, tornou-a orgânica e já não suscetível de cálculo algum.

A razão não é fonte da teologia, mas é o subjectum fidei capax, o sujeito que recebe a fé; e a fé não é sacrificium intellectus, mas sanitas mentis, a respiração natural do filho de Deus, pois a natureza não é destruída pela regeneração, mas restaurada. Sua tarefa é tríplice: descobrir a matéria, que não jaz em alguns loca probantia, mas espalhada por toda a Escritura, de sorte que a Escritura inteira prova o sistema inteiro; elaborá-la pelo pensamento em conclusiones fidei, pois os dogmas não estão na Escritura totidem verbis, mas segundo o sentido, e Deus não nos chamou a repetir literalmente, mas a pensar até o fim o que Ele em sua revelação pensou para nós; e resumir toda a verdade num sistema, não imposto de fora, mas o que está presente no próprio objeto. Nesse sentido a religião cristã é um culto racional. Mas, ainda que o conhecimento seja alcançável, a teologia não chega à compreensão. Compreender diz respeito ao como, e compreendemos muito pouco: apenas aquilo que está inteiramente em nosso poder e em que nada de admirável resta, pois a compreensão exclui o espanto. Quanto mais uma ciência penetra o seu objeto, tanto mais se aproxima do mistério; e onde cessa a compreensão, resta ainda lugar para o conhecer e para o admirar. Na revelação foi-nos aberto o mistério da graça de Deus: nós o vemos, ele nos confronta como realidade na história e na própria vida, mas não o sondamos. O crente, porém, já não o sente como fardo pesado, e sim como libertação para o seu pensamento: nele admira a sabedoria e o amor de Deus. A sua fé passa a admiração, o seu conhecimento termina em adoração, e a sua confissão desemboca em cântico de louvor e ação de graças. Dessa natureza é o conhecimento de Deus a que a teologia visa: não é um saber apenas, e muito menos um compreender; é melhor e mais glorioso — é um conhecimento que é vida, vida eterna.

Dogma é o que repousa unicamente no testemunho de Deus: Dominus dixit. A dogmática é o sistema científico do conhecimento de Deus revelado em sua Palavra à igreja, e nela tudo se considera sub ratione Dei. Três principia a sustentam: Deus, o principium essendi, pois nenhum conhecimento de Deus há senão de Deus e por Deus; a Escritura, principium cognoscendi externum, continuação da encarnação do Verbo e digna de fé por si mesma; e o Espírito Santo, principium internum, cujo testemunho é a pedra angular da confissão cristã. Prova alguma funda a fé: a eternidade não pode pender de uma teia de aranha. E esse conhecimento não chega à compreensão — termina em adoração, num conhecimento que é vida, vida eterna.