Showing posts with label ageing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ageing. Show all posts

2022/01/19

Lifespan by Dr David A. Sinclair - Ebook | Scribd

Lifespan by Dr David A. Sinclair - Ebook | Scribd



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Lifespan: Why We Age – and Why We Don’t Have To


By Dr David A. Sinclair

5/5 (6 ratings)
623 pages
16 hours

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at no additional cost

Description


In this paradigm-shifting book from acclaimed Harvard Medical School doctor and one of TIME magazine’s 100 most influential people on earth, Dr. David Sinclair reveals that everything we think we know about ageing is wrong, and shares the surprising, scientifically-proven methods that can help readers live younger, longer.

For decades, the medical community has looked to a variety of reasons for why we age, and the consensus is that no one dies of old age; they die of age-related diseases. That's because ageing is not a disease – it is inevitable.
But what if everything you think you know about ageing is wrong?
What if ageing is a disease? And that disease is curable.

In THE EVOLUTION OF AGEING, Dr. David Sinclair, one of the world’s foremost authorities on genetics and ageing, argues just that. He has dedicated his life’s work to chasing more than a longer lifespan – he wants to enable people to live longer, healthier, and disease-free well into our hundreds. In this book, he reveals a bold new theory of ageing, one that pinpoints a root cause of ageing that lies in an ancient genetic survival circuit. This genetic trick – a circuit designed to halt reproduction in order to repair damage to the genome –has enabled earth’s early microcosms to survive and evolve into more advanced organisms. But this same survival circuit is the reason we age: as genetic damage accumulates over our lifespans from UV rays, environmental toxins, and unhealthy diets, our genome is overwhelmed, causing gray hair, wrinkles, achy joints, heart issues, dementia, and, ultimately, death.

But genes aren’t our destiny; we have more control over them than we’ve been taught to believe. We can’t change our DNA, but we can harness the power of the epigenome to realise the true potential of our genes. Drawing on his cutting-edge findings at the forefront of medical research, Dr. Sinclair will provide a scientifically-proven roadmap to reverse the genetic clock by activating our vitality genes, so we can live younger longer. Readers will discover how a few simple lifestyle changes – like intermittent fasting, avoiding too much animal protein, limiting sugar, avoiding x-rays, exercising with the right intensity, and even trying cold therapy – can activate our vitality genes. Dr. Sinclair ends the book with a look to the near future, exploring what the world might look like – and what will need to change – when we are all living well to 120 or more.

Dr. Sinclair takes what we have long accepted as the limits of human potential and mortality and turns them into choices. LIFESPAN is destined to be the biggest book on genes, biology, and longevity of this decade.

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2021/10/28

Friends for Older People - Glynde, COTA South Australia | SEEK Volunteer

Friends for Older People - Glynde, COTA South Australia | SEEK Volunteer:

Friends for Older People - GlyndeCOTA South Australia




The COTA Visitors volunteers: -Visit a designated person. -Provide friendship and companionship. -Undertake activities that are appropriate for the individual - this may include, for example, reminiscing.

Role requirements: -Knowledge of ageing. -Enjoy reminiscing. -Empathy for older people who wish to remain living independently at home within the community and for people who live in residential care homes, including people from different cultural backgrounds and who are from diverse communities. -Respect for different lifestyles older people live. -National Police Certificate. -Flu Vaccination.

Apply
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Glynde SA
Seniors & Aged Care
Type of work

Companionship & Social Support, Seniors & Aged Care
Commitment

Regular - more than 6 months
Training

Successful completion of the COTA SA Community Visitors Scheme volunteer orientation.
Time required

At least one hour fortnightly
Reimbursement

As per the COTA SA volunteer policy, program guidelines and the related handbooks.
Requirements
National Police Certificate
Others

Please Note: * During the Covid-19 pandemic, organisations should be providing all necessary Covid-19 safety protection measures for volunteers following the advice of both the State or Territory Governments and the Federal Government. Your safety and wellbeing is your priority. Familiarise yourself with the most up-to-date requirements and advice from the Australian and NT and SA State Governments. 
* As each organisation provides different levels/types of insurance, volunteers are reminded to check with the organisation as to the type of insurance provided for volunteers (e.g. Volunteer Personal Accident Insurance). 

* Best practice volunteer involvement recommends that a volunteer role should not be more than 15-16 hours per week.
See all opportunities from COTA South Australia
Be alert & protect yourself

Don't provide personal information such as your bank or passport details when applying for volunteer opportunities.

Learn how to protect yourself.

2021/10/21

B Ehrenreich NATURAL CAUSES Ch 10 "Successful Aging"

 


Barbara Ehrenreich 



CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION Ix

Chapter One: Midlife Revolt 1

Chapter Two: Rituals of Humiliation 14

Chapter Three: The Veneer of Science 32

Chapter Four: Crushing the Body 51

Chapter Five: The Madness of Mindfulness 71

Chapter Six: Death in Social Context 91

Chapter Seven: The War Between Conflict and Harmony 112

Chapter Eight: Cellular Treason 137

Chapter Nine: Tiny Minds 151

Chapter Ten: "Successful Aging" 162

Chapter Eleven: The Invention of the Self 181

Chapter Twelve: Killing the Self, Rejoicing in a Living World 197

NOTES 213

ABOUT THE AUTHOR 235

======================

CHAPTER TEN  "Successful Aging"

The pressure to remain fit, slim, and in control of one's body does not end with old age—in fact, it only grows more insistent. Friends, family members, and doctors start nagging the aging person to join a gym, "eat healthy," or, at the very least, go for daily walks. You may have imag­ined a reclining chair or a hammock awaiting you after decades of stress and, in the case of manual laborers, physi­cal exertion. But no, your future more likely holds a treadmill and a lat pull, at least if you can afford to access these devices. One of the bossier self-help books for seniors commands:

Exercise six days a week for the rest ofyour life. Sorry, but that's it. No negotiations. No give. No excuses. Six days, se­rious exercise, until you die.'

The reason for this draconian regime is that "once you pass the age of fifty, exercise is no longer optional. You have to exercise or get old." You may have retired from paid work, but you have a new job, going to the gym. "Think of it as a great job, which it is."2

People over fifty-five are now the fastest-growing demo­graphic for gym membership. A few gyms, like the Silver Sneakers chain, deliberately target the elderly, in some cases even to the point of discouraging those who are younger—on the theory that older folks don't want to be intimidated by meatballs or spandexed sylphs. If the mere presence of white-haired gym-goers isn't enough to repel the young, some gyms don't offer free weights, partly because the sound of falling weights is supposedly annoying to older people and partly because older people, who are more likely to use exercise machines, may see them as a reproach. In the mixed-age gym I go to, membership tilts toward the over-fifty crowd, where "exercise is no longer optional." The more dedicated may use the gym as only part of their fitness reg­imen; they run in the morning or bike several miles to get there. Mark, a fifty-eight-year-old white-collar worker, does a 6 a.m. workout before going to work, then another one af­ter work. His goal? "To keep going." The price of survival is endless toil.

For an exemplar of healthy aging, we are often referred to Jeanne Louise Calment, a Frenchwoman who died in 1997 at the age of 122—the longest confirmed human life span.3

Calment never worked in her life, but it could be said she "worked out" While he was still alive, she and her wealthy

husband enjoyed tennis, swimming, fencing, hunting, and mountaineering. She took up fencing when she was 85, and even at 111, when she was in a nursing home, started the morning with gymnastics performed in her wheelchair.

164 NATURAL CAUSES "SUCCESSFUL AGING" 165

Anyone looking for dietary tips will be disappointed; she liked beef, fried foods, chocolates, and pound cake. Un­thinkably, by today's standards, she smoked cigarettes and sometimes cigars, though antismoking advocates should be relieved to know that she suffered from a persistent cough in her final years.

This is "successful aging," which, except for the huge in­vestment of time it can require, is almost indistinguishable from not aging at all. Anthropologist Sarah Lamb and her coauthors of a book on the subject4 date the concept of successful aging to the 1980s and locate it throughout the Western world, where it also goes by such names as "active aging," "healthy aging," "productive aging," "vital aging," "anti.aging," and "aging well."5 Lamb reports that

the WHO dedicated World Health Day 2012 to Healthy Ageing, and the European Union designated 2012 as the European Year for Active Ageing.6 In North America and Western Europe, centers for Healthy Aging, Active Aging and Successful Aging abound. Popular cultural and self-help books on the topic are flourishing.7

Among the titles now available on Amazon are: Successful and Healthy Aging: 101 Best Ways to Feel Younger and Live Longer; Live Long, Die Short: A Guide to Authentic Health and Successful Aging, Do Not Go Gentle: Successful Agingfor Baby Boomers andAll Generations; AgingBackwards: Reverse the Aging Process and Look 10 Years Younger in 30 Minutes a Day; and of course Healthy Agingfor Dummies. A major theme is that aging itself is abnormal and unacceptable. As the physician coauthor of Younger Next Year wrote, under the subhead "Normal Aging' Isn't Normal":

The more I looked at the science, the more it became clear to me that such ailments and deterioration [heart attacks, strokes, the common cancers, diabetes, most falls, fractures] are not a normal part of growing old. They are an outrage.8

And who is responsible for this outrage? Well, each of us is individually responsible. All of the books in the successful‑

aging literature insist that along and healthy life is within the reach of anyone who will submit to the required discipline. It's up to you and you alone, never mind what scars—from overexertion, genetic defects, or poverty—may be left from your prior existence. Nor is there much or any concern for the material factors that influence the health of an older per­son, such as personal wealth or access to transportation and social support. Except for your fitness trainer or successful-aging guru, you're on your own.

Unfortunately, the gurus' instructions are far from unan­imous or easy to follow. On the dietary front there's no more clarity than can be found in the general dietary advice for adults. Should you go with a Paleo diet or one heavy in complex carbohydrates? Should you eliminate all fats that do not originate in avocados or olives? We are widely advised to follow a "Mediterranean diet," but does that include Greek gyros and Italian charcuterie? Or perhaps we should refrain from eating anything at all. Numerous studies have shown that caloric restriction or intermittent fasting can prolong the lives of rats and other animals, but

166 NATURAL CAUSES "SUCCESSFUL AGING" 167

the debate over its effectiveness in humans goes on,9 despite the fact that most of us would find a semi-starved life not

worth living. If I can discern a general rule, it is governed by deprivation: Anything you like to eat—because it is, for ex­ample, fatty, salty, or sweet—should probably be put aside now in the interests of successful aging.

As for exercise, here too we find no precise instructions. Some sources, like the book quoted above, specify the

rough amount of exercise, such as six days a week for about

forty-five minutes per session, and how it should be divided between cardiovascular work and muscle training. But overall, a disturbing vagueness prevails. Often, we are urged

simply to "get active" or "get moving," on the grounds that even the smallest motion can be life-prolonging. "And even if you can't run a four-minute mile, keep running. If you can't run, walk—but keep moving, "10 For the sedentary, fid­geting at one's desk can help, along with parking a block or so from one's destination. A middle-aged woman reports that "I keep maniacally active because if there's any down time I sit there feeling guilty I'm not doing anything." Not doing anything is the same as aging; health and longevity must be earned through constant activity. Even the tremors of Parkinson's disease can be seen, optimisti­cally, as a form of health-giving exercise, since they do, after all, burn calories. The one thing you should not be doing is sitting around and, say, reading a book about healthy aging.

There are bright sides to aging, such as declines in am­bition, competitiveness, and lust. In her seventies, Betty Friedan turned her attention from gender to aging, writing a book called The Fountain ofAging and telling an interviewer that as they age, people become "more and more authenti­cally themselves. They didn't care anymore what other people thought of them, you know, keeping up with the Joneses and

'Am I going to make a fool of "12 Another noted

feminist, the Australian-born Englishwoman Lynne Segal, found artists often doing their best work in old age, and titled her balanced and richly documented book Out of Time: The Pleasures and Perils ofAgeing. I can add from my own experi­ence that aging also comes along with a refreshing refusal to strive, to take on every potential obligation and opportunity that comes my way.

But as even the most ebullient of the elderly eventually comes to realize aging is above all an accumulation of dis­abilities, often beginning well before Medicare eligibility or the arrival of the first Social Security check. Vision loss typ­ically begins in one's forties, bringing the need for reading glasses. Menopause strikes in a woman's early fifties, along with the hollowing out of bones. Knee and lower back pain arise in the forties and fifties, compromising the mobility required for "successful aging." As we older people mutter to each other in the gym, "It's just one damn thing after another," most of these things are too commonplace and boring even to serve as small talk. The U.S. Census Bureau

reports that nearly 40 percent of people age sixty-five and older suffer from at least one disability, with two-thirds of

them saying they have difficulty walking or climbing.13 Yet

we soldier along, making occasional concessions to arthritic joints or torn muscles but always aware that any major ces‑

sation of effort, say for two weeks or more, could lead to catastrophic collapse. "You don't become inactive because

168 NATURAL CAUSES "SUCCESSFUL AGING" 169

you age," we've been told over and over. "You age because you've become inactive."

No doubt immortality would be a more alluring goal ifwe could imagine surviving without disability, but hardly any‑

one, outside of the narrow demographic slice represented

by Silicon Valley billionaires, is interested in an extended life of being fed and "toileted" by caretakers until the next

biomedical breakthrough comes along. More modestly, the

goal of "successful aging" is often described as a "compres­sion of morbidity" into one's last few years. In other words,

a healthy, active life followed by a swift descent into death.

The latter goal may help account for the rise of "extreme" and dangerous sports in recent years, at least among those

who can afford ski resorts, snowboarding, or a trip to Nepal.

While the poor are chided for unhealthy lifestyles, the rich are applauded for summiting Everest, an enterprise with a

6.5 percent mortality rate14 and costing a minimum of about $100,000, not counting equipment or airfare—although fitness enthusiasts will be happy to know that both gluten-free and vegan diets are now available to climbers. 15

But the goals of a healthy, active life followed by a fairly quick death may not even be compatible without the inter­vention of avalanches and altitude sickness. The truly sinis­ter possibility is that for many of us, all the little measures we take to remain fit—all the deprivations and exertions—will only lead to a longer chance to live with crippling and humiliating disabilities. As a New York Times columnist ob­served, "The price we're paying for extended life spans is a high rate of late-life disability-"16 There are no guarantees.

But where there are no guarantees, there are plenty of promises of which "younger next year" is far from the most extravagant. Skincare products, once content to be "age-defying," are increasingly claimed to be "age-reversing," and, we are told by the wellness coaches and websites, a youthful appearance is part of "feeling good about yourself," which is deemed essential to wellness at any chronological age. Credit for adding beauty—or at least a simulacrum of youthfulness—to the wellness package should go to the new "celebrity wellness" entrepreneurs, starting with actor Gwyneth Paltrow, whose digital company Goop has been dispensing tips on beauty, health, recipes, and shopping since 2008. Actor Blake Lively launched her own "lifestyle company" in 2013, which is about "living a very one-of-a-kind, curated life," and included home decorating tips. 17

The general assumption is that the customers have plenty of time and money on their hands for, among many other things, a $60 "skin-rejuvenating pillowcase with patented Copper technology," or a $5,000 "radiofrequency" skin-tightening treatment. If you have enough money for such gadgets and interventions, you can presumably buy your way out of the strenuous "younger next year" approach to aging and take a more sybaritic path, one designed not to challenge but to pamper. The celebrity wellness entrepre­neur du jour, Amanda Bacon, who is a celebrity only by virtue of her Moon Juice wellness products, offers, instead of exercise regimens, a line of ointments and drinks, heavy on the kinds of exotic and expensive substances that Bacon herself likes to consume: "ho shou wu, silver needle tea, pearl, reishi, cordyceps, quinton shots, bee pollen and chaga." The theme here is self-nurturance, as reflected in the

170 NATURAL CAUSES

cost of the items consumed, as well as the time that goes into "curating" and procuring them. As New York Times re­porter Molly Young comments:

What Goop (and acolytes like Moon Juice) sell is the no­tion that it's not only excusable but worthy for a person to spend hours a day focused on her tiniest mood shifts, food choices, beauty rituals, exercise habits, bathing rou­tines and sleep schedule. What they sell is self-absorption as the ultimate luxury product. 18

Not surprisingly, these celebrity-endorsed wellness tech­niques are not exactly evidence-based, although of course there may be some large-scale double-blind randomized studies of, say, the salubrious effects of pearl consumption, that I am not aware of. But there are other equally passive and sweat-free wellness techniques that claim slightly more scientific credibility, such as "touch therapy." It is known that human infants and probably those of many other mam­mals only thrive when held and touched. Extrapolating from that, some wellness purveyors surmise that even adults in modern societies suffer from "touch deprivation"—most of all the elderly ones, who may have lost, or lost interest in, their partners and simply aged out of the dating pool.

Fortunately, touch is easy enough to commoditize in the form of massages or "healing touch" therapies that can be offered by spas, hospitals, and senior care centers. An as­sisted living center excitedly tells us that touch reduces blood pressure and glucose and increases alertness, while all-out hugs "strengthen the immune system, relieve pain

"SUCCESSFUL AGING" 171

and depressions elevate mood, reduce stress, decrease the heart rate, and may prevent Parkinson's disease. "9 The hugs can be dispensed by care providers or acquired from the fledgling "cuddling industry," which offers asexual cuddles for a price. 20

Inflammaging

In the twentieth century, medical science began to think of aging as a kind of disease as opposed to a normal stage of the life cycle. Women were used to having their lives "med-icalized" from puberty to menopause, with pregnancy and childbirth as acute episodes requiring intense medical monitoring and often intervention. But since there was no cure for aging, the elderly were pretty much left to their own devices, once meaning tonics and elixirs rich in alco­hol or cocaine, which may have been, at least in the short term, highly effective. Not until the 1960s and '70s did a researcher come up with a theory of aging at the sub-cellular level, which in the reductionist biology of the time was the only level that counted as interesting. This was the "telomere theory": Every time a cell divides, the tips of its chromosomes (telomeres) grow shorter until further cell

divisions become impossible.

The theory had its problems—many types of cells, such as cardiac cells and neurons, do not reproduce or do not do so very often, yet they somehow manage to age. But it also presented a tempting commercial opportunity in the form of drugs that might lengthen and fortify telomeres, al‑

172 NATURAL CAUSES "SUCCESSFUL AGING" 173

though their pharmaceutical promise has not been fulfilled. A host of other chemical agents in the aging process have

been identified, each with its own proposed nostrum. Free

radicals were popular culprits in the 1980s and '90s, leading to a brief fad of consuming antioxidants like vitamin E and

selenium—to no effect, as it turned out. Methylation, the

addition of a methyl group to a protein or nucleic acid, is required for cellular health and is thought to be encouraged

by B vitamins such as folate. But the effect of B vitamins on aging is murky at best. 21 Or, it has been proposed, mu­tations can occur in a cell's DNA, leading to accumulated intracellular damage, and there is no known cure for that.

All of these proposed chemical pathways of aging occur within individual cells, and all are suggestive of the kind of deep trends one might associate with aging—decay and entropy. The analogy is often made to the kind of "wear and tear" that eventually disables a machine or at least its moving parts, except that cells are not machines and their moving parts are molecules or clusters of molecules that are subject to perpetual destruction and renewal. Proteins, the fundamental chemical ingredient of cells, are constantly being torn apart by intracellular digestive enzymes and re­placed by freshly constructed ones. Some of the key protein players in cellular metabolism have half-lives only minutes long, meaning that there are plenty of opportunities for errors, as well as opportunities for correcting them. Over time, though, with advancing age, the errors accumulate until the integrity of the cell is compromised. And it is then that things get interesting.

Damaged cells attract immune cells, or, more precisely, damaged cells send out chemical signals that attract the im­mune cells, which proceed to devour the ailing cells. Some of the immune cells are messy eaters, leaving behind debris or the equivalent of crumbs, which in turn attracts more immune cells. Macrophages in particular are drawn to dam­aged cells; in fact, their chief "function" in the body, in addition to fighting microbes, is the removal of such com­promised cells. Thus the site of cell damage becomes a site of inflammation, where macrophages pile up and attract more macrophages to share in the meal. Inflammation is of course lifesaving when provoked by microbes, but when the target is the body's own cells or damaged versions thereof, it can lead, however gradually, to death.

In 2000, the Italian immunologist Claudio Franceschi proposed the neologism "inflammaging" to describe the en­tire organism-wide process of aging. Far from being a simple process of decay originating in individual cells, aging in­volves the active mobilization of macrophages to deal with proliferating sites of cellular damage. Today Franceschi's theory is widely accepted, with inflammaging being de­scribed, ominously enough, as "chronic smoldering oxida­tive and inflammatory Stress?'22 The hallmark disorders of aging—such as atherosclerosis, arthritis, Alzheimer's dis­ease, diabetes, and osteoporosis—are all inflammatory dis­eases, characterized by a local buildup of macrophages. In atherosclerosis, for example, macrophages settle in the arter­ies leading to the heart, where they gorge themselves with lipids until the arteries are eventually blocked. In Type 2 dia­betes macrophages accumulate in the pancreas, where they destroy the cells that produce insulin. Osteoporosis involves

174 NATURAL CAUSES "SUCCESSFUL AGING" 175

the activation of bone-dwelling macrophages, called osteo-cytes, that kill normal bone cells. The inflammation associ­ated with Alzheimer's disease was first thought to represent macrophages' attempts to control the beta-amyloid plaques that clog up the Alzheimer's brain. But the most recent re­search suggests that the macrophages, which may indeed be activated by the plaques, actually drive the progression of the disease. 23

These are not "degenerative" diseases, not just accumula­tions of "errors" and cobwebs. They are active and seeming‑

ly purposeful attacks by the immune system on the body

itself. Why should this happen? Perhaps a better question

is: Why shouldn't it happen? The survival of an older per­son is of no evolutionary consequence since that person can no longer reproduce—unless one wants to argue for the role of grandparents in prolonging the lives of their de­scendants. It might even, in a Darwinian sense, be better to remove the elderly before they can use up any more resources that might otherwise go to the young. In that case, you could say that there is something almost altruistic about the diseases of aging. Just as programmed cell death, apoptosis, cleanly eliminates damaged cells from the body, so do the diseases of aging clear up the clutter of biologi­cally useless older people—only not quite so cleanly. And this perspective may be particularly attractive at a time, like now, when the dominant discourse on aging focuses on the deleterious economic effects of largely aging populations. If we didn't have inflammatory diseases to get the job done, we might have to turn to euthanasia.

But however benevolent the diseases of aging might ulti­ mately be—at least from a social or economic perspective—they are experienced by the individual as a betrayal. In one of his last novels, Everyman, Philip Roth's protagonist, who is essentially the same Rothlike, sex-obsessed character who has starred in most of his novels, must face his own physical deterioration. Well into his seventies, retired and largely es­tranged from his family, he is still hitting on women at least

a half century younger than himself. Mostly though, he is aging—tormented by his increasingly unreliable penis and

by atherosclerosis, which comes to require heart surgery ev‑

ery year. The setting is increasingly claustrophobic as it moves among waiting rooms and hospitals before returning

to the cemetery where the story started, at a family funeral,

and where his own body will eventually rest. It is unlikely that Roth knew anything about inflammaging or the cel‑

lular basis of atherosclerosis, but he accurately summed up the biological situation when he wrote that "old age isn't a battle; old age is a massacre.724

So whatever good deeds immune cells may accomplish in the young, such as fending off microbial infections, their job—or perhaps we should say, their effect in the elderly—is to destroy the organism. The question of why they do

these things might be simplified into a more childish form: Are the immune cells "good" or are they "bad"? Friends or foes? For the most part, scientists dodge this question with

mumblings about "paradoxical" effects or a "double-edged sword." Macrophages can save our lives or promote deadly

tumors. Neutrophils, which are among the first immune cells to arrive at a site of infection, can slay intruders or start a spiral into chronic inflammation. Scientists sometimes fall

176 NATURAL CAUSES "SUCCESSFUL AGING" 177

back on the language of moral judgment, of "good" and "bad." For example, a researcher who has contributed to several papers on inflammation attempts to exonerate neu-trophils by blaming their occasional bad behavior on other cell types they are in contact with, which are typically other immune cells:

Although neutrophils may often appear to be the "bad" guy in certain inflammatory conditions this is typically due to the influence of other molecules released from sur­rounding cells. Without this influence the primary aim of the neutrophil is to resolve inflammation, making them overall the "good" guys of the inflammatory process.25

It would take a lengthy trial to determine the guilt or in­nocence of the immune system or of any cell type within it. In the case of macrophages their contributions to the well­being of the organism are well known: They help sculpt the embryo into a human fetus; they defend the body against microbial invasions; they participate in the process of anti­gen presentation; they keep the body clear of dead and damaged cells. On the destructive side, they encourage the growth and spread of tumors; they launch the catastrophe of inflammaging; they are frontline killers in autoimmune diseases. If I were a prosecutor in the trial of macrophages I might wind up my case with the autoimmune diseases, which may not prove active malice on the macrophages' part, but certainly make a case for homicidal negligence. In their defense, macrophages could argue that whatever the deleterious consequences, they are simply doing the kind of things they are expected to do—removing damaged cells, for example. To which the prosecution might counter that macrophages have way too much discretion in determining which cells are damaged enough to die, and may even have caused the initial harm themselves.

Early in his massive work on the history and philosophy of immunology, The Immune Se Theory or Metaphor, Al­fred Tauber states that "the immune self has come to be viewed analogously to a living entity."26 His use of the pas­sive voice conceals who has come to see the "immune self" in this way—he himself or immunologists in general? But the larger question is, what does it mean to say that some part or parts of the body act as a "living entity"? Certainly the cells of the immune system are in constant communi­cation, and are capable of rather dramatic forms of coop­eration. For example, if a macrophage needs to expand its supply of cell-killing digestive enzymes, all it has to do is gobble up a neutrophil and add the neutrophil's stockpile of enzymes to its own. So the immune system seems to qualify as a "system," but does it possess the autonomy we expect to find in a "living entity"? If so, we should probably call the nervous system a kind of living entity too, since it is capable of plotting and carrying out the death of the organism—in the form of suicide by gunshot or poison—on its own.

But what kind of an entity is it? Is it a second, shadow self, assuming the word "self" has not been so degraded by

its metaphorical uses as to be meaningless? The best anal­ogy I can come up with would be that it is a symbiont—living in a symbiotic relationship within us, sometimes sav­ing our lives and sometimes destroying us. All we can say

178 NATURAL CAUSES "SUCCESSFUL AGING" 179

for sure is that its agenda does not always concur with ours, and there does not seem to be any command-and-control

center within the organism to bring these agendas reliably into harmony. There are many small measures, to be sure—checks and balances, anti- and pro-inflammatory chemical messages—but there is ultimately no one in charge.

The danger is that the inflammatory forays of the im­mune system can easily tilt into lethal cascades. A plaque composed of macrophages can suddenly block a coronary artery. Alzheimer's disease, which is an inflammatory dis­ease of the brain, can cut off the neuronal circuits control­ling breathing. Where there is an inflammation, body cells are damaged, and the damage lures more inflammatory cells to the site. Macrophages get less efficient with age, slower and less effective as phagocytes and defenders against mi­crobial invasions. But the effect may be to make them even messier eaters than they were in their youth, and hence more prone to inadvertently call for more macrophages as backup. Chronic, "smoldering" inflammations can easily ig­nite into conflagrations.

We all know how this ends, though for the most part we prefer not to think about it. When the organism dies, as signaled by the cessation of the heartbeat and respiration, not all body cells die simultaneously, though many begin to ail within minutes or hours. Their mitochondria swell, their disabled proteins are not replaced, their cell mem­branes start to leak. Macrophages and other phagocytes, which are not wholly dependent on the bloodstream for nutrients, may last slightly longer and perhaps enjoy a brief orgy as they rush around devouring damaged cells, but they too soon succumb to the lack of oxygen from circulating blood. Bacteria from the gut—collectively known as the microbiome—find their way through leaky membranes to the rest of the body and begin the process of putrefaction. Next come the insects, including beetles, flies, and, should they be in the neighborhood, butterflies. Maggots are the hallmark of decomposition; Shakespeare remarked that "we fat [fatten] ourselves for maggots" and was amused by the fact that even kings are eventually eaten by these little worms. Mercifully perhaps, the corpse may be attacked at some point by larger scavengers—crows vultures, rats, hye­nas, jackals, and dogs—which at least serve to clean up the mess. To the heroes of the Iliad, this was the ultimate hu­miliation they could wish on their enemies—to be eaten by dogs and crows, to descend from the status of warriors and predators into prey.

So much, then, for the hours—and years—you may have devoted to fitness. The muscles that have been so carefully sculpted and toned stiffen when calcium from the dead body leaks into them, causing rigor mortis, and loosening only when decomposition sets in. The organs we nurtured with supplements and superfoods abandon their appointed functions. The brain we have tamed with mindfulness exer­cises goes awry within minutes after the heart stops beating. Soon after, reports a forensic anthropologist, "the brain liq­uefies very quickly. It just pours out the ears and bubbles out the mouth ."27 Everything devolves into a stinking pool or, what may sound even worse, a morsel in a rat's digestive system.

If this sounds offensive, let me remind you that we in‑

180 NATURAL CAUSES

habit an entertainment culture that is thickly populated with the "undead," the "walking dead," and other border­line creatures that resemble decaying corpses. Their mouths, always open to expose rotting teeth, are bloody gashes, their eyes are set deep in their sockets, their jowls may be begin­ning to melt down toward their necks, and of course, they are lurching toward us in search of a meal. This obsession is odd, given how meticulous our society is about the dis­posal of corpses. We are unlikely to trip over dead bodies on the sidewalk, but it is hard not to encounter them while re­laxing in front of movies—as if we needed reminders of the postmortem future of the flesh.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Invention of the Self

We return now to a question raised earlier in this book. Who is in charge? We seek control over our bodies, our minds, and our lives, but who or what will be doing the controlling? The body can be ruled out be­cause of its tendency to liquefy—or turn into dust—without artful embalming. So the entity we wish to en­throne must be invisible and perhaps immaterial—the mind, the spirit, the self, or perhaps some ineffable amal­gam, as suggested by the phrase "mind, body, spirit" or the neologism "mindbody."

The spectacle of decomposition provides a powerful in­centive to posit some sort of immaterial human essence that survives the body. Certainly there is very little talk of "mind-body unity" in the presence of a rotting corpse. In fact, the conversation is likely to take a different turn, to

an emphasis on the existence of an immortal essence, or soul, that somehow carries on without the body. Medieval

Catholic artists and clerics deployed images of decompos­ing bodies—sometimes with maggots wiggling in the nos‑

182 NATURAL CAUSES THE INVENTION OF THE SELF 183

trils and eye sockets—to underscore the urgency of prepar­ing the soul for the disembodied life that awaits it. Bud­dhist monks practice "corpse meditation" in the presence of corpses, both fresh and rotting, to impress on themselves the impermanence of life The soul, m both Christian and Islamic philosophy, is the perfect vessel for the immortality that eludes us as fleshly creatures: It's immortal by virtue of the fact it somehow participates in, or overlaps with, an immortal deity. Even nonbelievers today are likely to comfort themselves with the thought of a "soul," or spirit, or vague "legacy" that renders them impervious to decay. As Longfellow famously wrote, "Dust thou art, to dust turnest, was not spoken of the soul."

But no one has detected this entity. There is in fact much firmer evidence for the existence of "dark matter," the hy­pothesized substance that is invoked to explain the shape of galaxies, than there is for any spirit or soul. At least dark matter can be detected indirectly through its gravitational effects. We can talk about someone's soul and whether it is capacious or shriveled, but we realize that we are speaking metaphorically. Various locations for an immaterial individ­ual essence have been proposed—the heart, the brain, and the liver—but autopsies yield no trace of it, leading some to speculate that it is delocalized like the Chinese qi. In 1901, an American physician reported that the human body loses three-quarters of an ounce, or twenty-one grams, at the mo­ment of death, arguing that this meant the soul is a material substance. But his experiment could not be replicated, sug­gesting that the soul, if it exists, possesses neither location nor mass. One can't even find the concept of the "immortal soul" in the Bible. It was grafted onto Christian teachings from the pagan Greeks long after the Bible was written.2

The idea of an immortal soul did not survive the En­lightenment unscathed. The soul depended on God to pro‑

vide its immortality, and as his existence—or at least his

attentiveness—was called into question, the immortal soul gave way to the far more secular notion of the self. While

the soul was probably "discovered" by Christians (and Jews)

reading Plato, the self was never discovered; it simply grew by accretion, apparently starting in Renaissance Europe.

Scholars can argue endlessly about when exactly the idea of

the self—or any other historical innovation—arose; prece­dents can always be claimed. But historians have generally

agreed on the vague proposition that nothing like either

the soul or the self existed in the ancient world. Ego, yes, and pride and ambition, but not the capacity for introspec‑

tion and internal questioning that we associate with the self. Achilles wanted his name and his deeds remembered forever; he did not agonize over his motives or conflicted allegiances. That sort of thinking came later.

Lionel Trilling wrote that "in the late 16th and early 17th centuries, something like a mutation in human nature took

place," which he took to be the requirement for what his‑

torian Frances Yates called "the emergence of modern Euro­pean and American man."' As awareness of the individual

self took hold, the bourgeoisie bought mirrors, commis‑

sioned portraits, wrote autobiographies, and increasingly honored the mission of trying to "find" oneself among the

buzz of thought engendered by a crowded urban social world. Today we take it for granted that inside the self we

184 NATURAL CAUSES THE INVENTION OF THE SELF 185

present to others, there lies another, truer self, but the idea was still fresh in the 1780s when Jean-Jacques Rousseau an­nounced triumphantly:

I am forming an undertaking which has no precedent, and the execution of which will have no imitator whatsoever. I wish to show my fellows a man in all the truth of nature; and this man will be myself.

Myself alone. I feel my heart and I know men. I am not made like any of the ones I have seen; I dare to believe that I am not made like any that exist. If I am worth no more, at least I am different.4

Megalomania, or the proud claim of a rebellious political thinker? Contemporary thought has leaned toward the lat­ter; after all, Rousseau was a major intellectual influence on the French Revolution, which, whatever its bloody out­come, was probably the first mass movement to demand both individual "Liberté" and "Fraternité," or solidarity within the collective. There is something bracing about Rousseau's assertion of his individual self, but the impor­tant thing to remember is that it was an assertion—no evi­dence was offered, not that it is easy to imagine what kind of evidence that might be. As historian John 0. Lyons put it, the self was "invented."5

Another slippery abstraction was taking hold at around the same time as the self, and this was the notion of "soci­ety." Like the self, society is not something you can point to or measure, it is a concept that has to be taught or shared, a ghostly entity that arises from an aggregate of individual selves. In material terms, you can imagine a "super-being" composed of numerous subunits clumsily trying to coordi­nate their movements. It is no coincidence that the concept of society arose along with that of the self, if only because the newly self-centered individual seemed to be mostly con­cerned with the opinion of others: How do I fit in? How do I compare to them? What impression am I making? We do not look into mirrors, for example, to see our "true" selves, but to see what others are seeing, and what passes for inner reflection is often an agonizing assessment of how others are judging us.

A psychological "mutation" of this magnitude cries out for a historic explanation. Here, historians have generally invoked the social and economic changes accompanying the increasing dominance of a market economy. As fixed feudal roles and obligations lost their grip, it became easier for people to imagine themselves as individuals capable of self-initiated change, including upward mobility. You might be an artisan and learn to dress and speak like a mer­chant, or a merchant who takes on the airs of an aristocrat. Traditional bonds of community and faith loosened, even making it possible to assume the identity of another person, as in the famous case of the sixteenth-century adventurer who managed to convince the inhabitants of a village that he was their missing neighbor Martin Guerre. He took over the family inheritance and moved in with the real Guerre's wife, at least until the ruse was uncovered three years later.6 If you could move from village to village, from village to city, from one social class to another—and surely the dis­ruptions of intra-European wars played a part in the new

186 NATURAL CAUSES THE INVENTION OF THE SELF 187

mobility—you have to constantly monitor the impression you are making on others. At the same time, those oth­ers are becoming less trustworthy; you cannot be sure what true "self" lies behind the façade.

Related to the rise of capitalism—though how related has long been a subject of debate—was the religious innovation represented by Protestantism, which midwifed the soul's transformation into the modern notion of the self Pre-Reformation Catholics could ensure a blissful postmortem existence by participating in the sacraments or donating large sums to the church, but Protestants and especially Calvinists were assigned to perpetual introspection in an attempt to make their souls acceptable to God. Every transient thought and inclination had to be monitored for the slightest sinful impulse. As science and secularism chipped away at the notion of God, the habit of introspection remained. Psycho­analyst Garth Amundson writes:

People continued to look inward, into the private life of the mind, so as to locate essential truths about their lives, though without the additional notion that these truths are the fruit of a dialogue with God's presence within the self Hence, the Deity that Augustine thought that we discover by looking within the self was dethroned, and replaced by an invigorating confrontation with powerful private emo­tional states, fantasies, hopes, and needs. An authentic and immediate awareness of one's affective experience became the new center around which to create a life lived truthfully and "fully." In this way, the development of the private life of the self became something of an object of worship.7

Or, as somewhat more simply put by a Spanish historian, "the modern Rousseauist self, which feels and creates its own existence, would appear to be the heir to attributes previously assigned to God."8

In our own time, the language of self-regard has taken on a definite religious quality. We are instructed to "believe" in ourselves, "esteem" ourselves, be true to ourselves, and, above all, "love" ourselves, because otherwise how could anyone else love us? The endless cornucopia of "self-help" advice that began to overflow in the twentieth century en­joins us to be our own "best friends," to indulge ourselves, make time for ourselves, and often celebrate ourselves. If words like "believe" do not sufficiently suggest a religious stance, one site even urges us to "worship ourselves" by creating a shrine to oneself, which might include photos (probably "selfies"), favorite items of jewelry, and "nice smelling things such as perfume, candles or incense"' The self may seem like a patently false deity to worship, but it is no more—and no less—false than the God enshrined in recognized religions. Neither the self nor God is demon­strably present to everyone. Both require the exertion of

belief

In today's capitalist culture the self has been further ob­jectified into a kind of commodity demanding continual effort to maintain—a "brand:' Celebrities clearly have well-defined "brands," composed of their talents, if any, their "personalities," and their physical images, all of which can be monetized and sold. Even lowly aspirants toward wealth and fame are encouraged to develop a brand and project it confidently into the world, and never mind if it is indistin‑

188 NATURAL CAUSES THE INVENTION OF THE SELF 189

guishable from that of millions of other people—cheerful, upbeat, and "positive-thinking" has been a favorite since the 1950s, both for office workers and CEOs. If some darker self, containing fears, resentments, and doubts, re­mains under your carefully constructed exterior, it is up to you to keep it under wraps. Internal "affirmations"—"i am confident, I am lovable, and I will be successful"—are thought to do the trick.

What could go wrong? Of course, with the introduction of "self-knowledge" and "self-love," one enters an endless hail of mirrors: How can the self be known to the self, and who is doing the knowing? If we love ourselves, who is doing the loving? This is the inescapable paradox of self-reflection: How can the self be both the knower and the content of what is known, both the subject and the object, the lover and that which is loved? Other people can be annoying, as Sartre famously suggested, but true hell is perpetual im­prisonment in the self. Many historians have argued that the rise of self-awareness starting in roughly the seventeenth century was associated with the outbreak of an epidemic of

"melancholy" in Europe at about the same time, and subjec­tive accounts of that disorder correspond very closely with

what we now call "depression." ° Chronic anxiety, taking the form of "neurasthenia" in the nineteenth century, seems to be another disease of modernism. The self that we love and nurture turns out to be a fragile, untrustworthy thing.

Unlike the "soul" that preceded it, the self is mortal. When we are advised to "come to terms with" our mortal‑

ity, we are not only meant to ponder our decaying corpses, but the almost unthinkable prospect of a world without us

in it, or more precisely, a world without me in it, since I can, unfortunately, imagine a world without other people, even those I love most. A world without me, without a con­scious "subject" to behold it, seems inherently paradoxical. As philosopher Herbert Fingarette writes:

Could I imagine this familiar world continuing in exis­tence even though I no longer exist? If I tried, it would be a world imagined by me.... Yes, I can imagine a world with­out me in it as an inhabitant. But I can't imagine a world as unimagined by me. My consciousness of that world is in-eliminable, and so, too, therefore, is my reaction to it. But this falsifies the meaning of my death, since its distinctive feature is that there won't be consciousness of, or reaction to, anything whatsoever. 11

We are, most of the time, so deeply invested in the idea of an individual conscious self that it becomes both logically and emotionally impossible to think of a world without it. A physician who had narrowly escaped death more than once writes:

Whenever I've tried wrapping my mind around the con­cept of my own demise—truly envisioned the world con­tinuing on without me, the essence of what I am utterly gone forever—I've unearthed a fear so overwhelming my mind has been turned aside as if my imagination and the idea of my own end were two magnets of identical polarity, unwilling to meet no matter how hard I tried to make

i 12

tnem.

190 NATURAL CAUSES THE INVENTION OF THE SELF 191

We may all imagine that some trace of ourselves will persist in the form of children and others whom we have influenced, or through the artifacts and intellectual prod­ucts we leave behind. At the same time I know, though, that the particular constellation of memories, fantasies, and am­bitions that is, for example, me will be gone. The unique—or so I like to imagine—thrum of my consciousness will be silenced, never to sound again. "All too often," wrote philosopher Robert C. Solomon, "we approach death with the self-indulgent thought that my death is a bad thing be­cause it deprives the universe ofme" (italics in the original).13 Yet if we think about it, the universe survives the deaths of about fifty-five million unique individuals a year quite nicely.

In the face of death, secular people often scramble to ex­pand their experiences or memorialize themselves in some lasting form. They may work their way through a "bucket list" of adventures and destinations or struggle to complete a cherished project. Or if they are at all rich or famous, they may dedicate their final years and months to the creation of

a legacy, such as a charitable foundation, in the same spirit as an emperor might plan his mausoleum. One well-known

public figure of my acquaintance devoted some of his last months to planning a celebration of his life featuring adu­latory speeches by numerous dignitaries including himself. Sadly, a couple of decades later, his name requires some ex­planation.

So the self becomes an obstacle to what we might call, in the fullest sense, "successful aging." I have seen accom­plished people consumed in their final years with jockeying for one last promotion or other mark of recognition, or crankily defending their reputation against critics and po­tential critics. This is all that we in the modern world have learned how to do. And when we acquire painful neuroses from our efforts to promote and protect ourselves, we often turn to forms of therapy that require us to burrow even more deeply into ourselves. As Amundson writes, "the psy­chotherapy patient looks within for the truth, and comes away, not with anything that is considered universally valid or absolute in a metaphysical sense, but with a heightened and intensified devotion to such individualistic creeds as 'being true to oneself,' 'loving oneself,' and 'practicing self-care."' 14

There is one time-honored salve for the anxiety of ap­proaching self-dissolution, and that is to submerge oneself into something "larger than oneself," some imagined super-being that will live on without us. The religious martyr dies for God, the soldier for the nation or, if his mind cannot encompass something as large as the nation, at least for the regiment or platoon. War is one of the oldest and most widespread human activities, and warriors are expected to face death willingly in battle, hoping to be memorialized in epics like the Iliad or the Mahabharata or in one of the war monuments that have sprung up since the nineteenth century. For frightened soldiers or, later, their grieving sur­vivors, dying is reconfigured as a "sacrifice"—the "ultimate

sacrifice"—with all the ancient religious connotations of an offering to the gods. And in case thoughts of eventual glory

are not enough to banish fear, the US military is increas­ingly adopting the tools of alternative medicine, including

192 NATURAL CAUSES THE INVENTION OF THE SELF 193

meditation, dietary supplements, and reiki.'5 The expecta­ From San Diego up to Maine

tion, though, is that true soldiers die calmly and without In every mine and mill

regret. As Winston Churchill said of poet and World War I Where workers strike and organize

recruit Rupert Brooke: Says he, You'llfindJoe Hill 17

He expected to die: he was willing to die for the dear En­gland whose beauty and majesty he knew: and he advanced towards the brink in perfect serenity, with absolute con­viction of the rightness of his country's cause and a heart devoid of hate for fellow-men. 16

But you don't have to be a warrior to face death with equanimity. Anyone who lives for a cause like "the revolu­tion" is entitled to imagine that cause being carried on by fresh generations, so that one's own death becomes a tem­porary interruption in a great chain of endeavor. Some stumble and fall or simply age out, but others will come along to carry on the work. As an old labor song about Joe Hill, a labor activist who was framed for murder and exe­cuted in 1915, tells us, it's as if death never happened at all:

I dreamed lsaw Joe Hill last night Alive as you or me

Says I, But Joe, you're ten years dead I never died, says he

In ever  died, says he...

Where working men are out on strike .Joe Hill is at their side

Joe Hill is at their side

The revolutionary lives and dies for her people, secure in her belief that someone else will pick up the banner when she falls. To the true believer, individual death is incidental. A luta continua.

The idea of a super-being that will outlive us as individ­uals is not entirely delusional. Human beings are among the most sociable of living creatures. Studies of orphaned infants in World War II showed that even if kept warm and adequately fed, infants who were not held and touched "failed to thrive" and eventually died.18 Socially isolated adults are less likely to survive trauma and disease than those embedded in family and community. We delight in occasions for unified, collective expression, whether in the form of dancing, singing, or chanting for a demagogue. Even our most private thoughts are shaped by the structure of language, which is of course also our usual medium of in­teraction with others. And as many have argued, we are ever more tightly entangled by the Internet into a single global mind—although in a culture as self-centric as ours, the In­ternet can also be used as a mirror, or a way to rate ourselves by the amount of attention we are getting from others, the number of likes.

It is the idea of a continuous chain of human experience and endeavor that has kept me going through an unexpect­edly long life. I will stumble and fall; in fact, I already stum‑

194 NATURAL CAUSES THE INVENTION OF THE SELF 195

ble a lot, but others will pick up the torch and continue the race. It's not only "my work"—forgive the pompous phrase—that I bequeath to my survivors but all the mental and sensual pleasures that come with being a living human: sitting in the spring sunshine, feeling the warmth of friends, solving a difficult equation. All that will go on without me. I am content, in the time that remains, to be a transient cell in the larger human super-being.

But there are flaws in this philosophic perspective. For one thing, it is entirely anthropocentric. Why shouldn't our "great chain of being" include the other creatures with which we have shared the planet, the creatures we have mar­tyred in service to us or driven out of their homes to make way for our expansion? Surely we have some emotional at­tachment to them, even if it is hard to imagine passing the figurative torch to dogs or, in one of the worst scenarios, in­sects and microbes.

Then there is a deeper, more existential problem with my effort to derive some comfort from the notion of an ongoing human super-being: Our species itself appears to be mortal and, in many accounts, imminently doomed, most likely to die by our own hand, through global warming or nuclear war. Some scientists put the chance of a "near extinction event," in which up to 10 percent of our species is wiped out, at a little over 9 percent within a hundred years.19 Others doubt our species will survive the current century. As environmen­talist Daniel Drumright writes—and I can only hope he is an alarmist—with the growing awareness of extinction, "We're dealing with a discovery of such epic proportion that it sim­ply reduces everything in existence to nothing." He goes on to say that our emerging circumstances require "a diabolic consciousness to which no living human being has ever had to bear witness. It is an awareness which requires a degree of emotional maturity that's almost indistinguishable from in­sanity within western culture."20

If your imagination is vigorous enough, you may take comfort from the likely existence of other forms of life throughout the universe. Earth-sized planets abound, poten­tially offering other habitats similar to our own, with rea­sonable temperatures and abundant water. In addition, sci-fi fans know that our vision of life based on carbon and water is likely to be far too provincial. There may be life forms based on other chemicals, or self-reproducing entities that do not even consist of conventional matter—patterns of energy bursts, oscillating currents, gluttonous black holes; already we have artificial life in the form of computer programs that can reproduce and evolve to meet changing circumstances. And—who knows?—some of these "life" forms may be suit­able heirs for our species, capable of questing and loving.

But even here our yearning for immortality runs into a wall, because the universe itself will come to an end if cur­rent predictions are borne out, whether in 2.8 or 22 billion years from now, which of course still gives us plenty of time to get our things in order. In one scenario there will be a "big crunch" in which expansionist forces will rip even atoms apart. In another, the night sky will empty out, the huge void spaces now separating galaxies will grow until they swallow everything. Vacuum and perfect darkness will prevail. Both scenarios lead to the ultimate nightmare of a world "without us in it," and it is infinitely bleaker than a

196 NATURAL CAUSES

world without our individual selves—a world, if you can call it that, without anything in it, not the tiniest spark of consciousness or wisp of energy or matter. To cruelly para­phrase Martin Luther King, the arc of history is long, but it bends toward catastrophic annihilation.



214 ENDNOTES ENDNOTES 215


CHAPTER TEN: "SUCCESSFUL AGING"

1. Chris Crowley and Henry S. Lodge, Younger Next Year: Live Strong, Fit, and Sexy—Until You're 80 and Beyond (New York: Workman, 2004), 49.

2. Ibid., 111.

3. "Jeanne Calment," Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ Jeanne_Calment.

4. Sarah Lamb et aL,SuccessfulAgingasa Contemporary Obsession: Global Perspectives. (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2017).

2. The Gerontologist published its February 2015 edition as a "Special Issue on Successful Aging," reflecting on the concept's past and fu­ture. Beyond gerontology proper, see also the Spring 2015 issue of Daedalus: Journal ofthe American Academy ofthe Arts and Sciences, dedicated to the "Successful Aging of Societies." See also John W. Rowe and Robert L. Kahn, "Successful Aging 2.0: Conceptual Ex­pansions for the 21st Century,"Journals of Gerontology, Series B: Psychological Sciences and Social Sciences 70, no.4 (2015): 593-96.

1. The full name of this conference was "European Year for Active Aging and Solidarity Between Generations." See http://ec.europa.eu/archives/ey2012/.

4. Sarah Lamb, "Permanent Personhood or Meaningful Decline? Toward a Critical Anthropology of Successful Aging"JournalofAging Studies 29(2014): 41-52, https://medschool.vanderbilt.edu/ psychiatry-geriatric-fellowship/ftles/psychiatry-geriatric-fellowshjp/ public_files/Aging%20-%20meaningfui%20decline.pdf.

5. Crowley and Lodge, Younger Next Year, 29.

6. Richard Conniff, "The Hunger Gains: Extreme Calorie-Restriction Diet Shows Anti-Aging Results," ScientficAmerican, February 16, 2016, wwwscientificamerican.com/article/the-hunger-gains-extreme-calorie-restriction-diet-shows-anti-aging-results!.

7. Roger Landry, "The Person Who Will Live to Be 150 Is Alive Today—Could He Be You?," US. News & World Report, August 19,2015, via Yahoo News, www.yahoo.com/news/person-live-i 50-alive-today-could-i 1000011 5.html?ref=gs.

ii. Quoted in Lynne Segal, Out of Time: The Pleasures and the Perils of

Ageing (New York: Verso, 2014), 178.

12. Deirdre Carmody, "At Lunch With: Betty Friedan; Trying to Dispel 'The Mystique ofAge' at 72," New York Times, September 15, 1993, wwwnytimes.com!books!99!05!09!specials!friedan-lunch.html.

13. U.S. Census Bureau, "Mobility Is Most Common Disability Among Older Americans, Census Bureau Reports," press release, December 2, 2014, www.census.gov!newsroom!press-releases! 2014,/cbl4-218.html.

14. Stewart Green, "Death on Mount Everest," ThoughtCo., March 2, 2017, www.thoughtco.com/death-on-mount-everest-755907.

15. See, for example, International Mountain Guides, www.mountainguides.com!everest-south.shtml.

16. Paula Span, "High Disability Rates Persist in Old Age," New York Times, July 8, 2013, http:!!newoldage.blogs.nytimes.com!2013! 07!08!high-disability-rates-persist-in-old-age!?_r=0.

17. Cavan Sieczkowski, "Blake Lively Announces Lifestyle Company Similar to Gwyneth Paltrow's GOOP," Huffing-ton Post, September 26,2013, www.huffingtonpost.com!2013!09!26!blake-lively-lifestyle-company_n_3997565.html.

18. Molly Young, "How Amanda Chantal Bacon Perfected the Celebrity Wellness Business," New York Times Magazine, May 25, 2017, www.nytimes.com!2017!05!25!magazine!how-amanda-chantal-bacon-perfected-the-celebrity-wellness-business.html.

19. "The Importance of Touch for Seniors," TheArborsBlog, March 23, 2017, http:!!blog.arborsassistedliving.com!importance-of-touch-for-seniors.

232 ENDNOTES

20. Siyi Chen, "Intimacy for Rent: Inside the Business of Paid Cud­dling," Quartz, October 6, 2016, https://qz.com/779547/ intimacy-for-rent-inside-the-business-of-paid-cuddling!.

21. Martha Savaria Morris, "The Role of B Vitamins in Preventing and Treating Cognitive Impairment and Decline ," Advances in Nutrition 3 (2012): 801-12, http://advances.nutrition.org/content/3!6/801.ftill.

22. Katarzyna Szarc yel Szic, Ken Declerck, Melita Vidakovi, and Wim Vanden Berghe, "From Ilillammaging to Healthy Aging by Dietary Lifestyle Choices: Is Epigenetics the Key to Personalized Nutrition?," Clinical Epigen etics 7, no. 1 (2015): 33, www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc!articles!PMC4389409/.

23. "Blocking Brain Inflammation 'Halts Alzheimer's Disease," BBC News, January 8, 2016, www.bbc.com!news!health-35254649.

24. Philip Roth, Everyman (Boston: Houghton Muffin Harcourt, 2006), 155.

25. Kathryn Higgins, "The Immune Cell, the Neutrophil—The Good, the Bad, or the Ugly?," Brainwaves, February 21, 2012, wwwsciencebrainwaves.com/the-immune-cell-the-neutrophiF the-good-the-bad-or-the-ugly!.

26. Alfred I. Tauber, The Immune Self, 8.

21. Quoted in Mary Roach, Stiff. The Curious Lives ofHuman Cadav­ers (New York: W. W. Norton, 2003), 68.




CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE INVENTION OF THE SELF

1. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "A Psalm of Life," Poetry Foundation, wwwpoetryfoundation.org!poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44644.

2. Gary Petty, "What Does the Bible Say About the 'Immortal Soul,'" Beyond Today, July 15, 1999, www.ucg.org!the-good-news! what-does-the-bible-say-about-the-immortal-soul.

3. Lionel Trilling, Sincerity andAuthenticity (Cambridge, MA: Har­vard University Press, 1973), 19.

4. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Confessions and Correspondence, Including the Letters toMalesherbes, trans. Christopher Kelly (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 1995), ebook, location 693.

2. John 0. Lyons, The Invention of the Se'f: The Hinge of Consciousness in the Eighteenth Century (Carbondale: Southern Illinois Univer­sity Press, 1978).

3. "Martin Guerre," Wikipedia, https:!/en.wikIpediaorj/ Martin-Guerre.

4. Garth Amundson, "Psychotherapy, Religion, and the Invention of the Self," Therapy View: Musings on the Work and Play ofPsy-chotherapy, November 1, 2015, https://'therapyviews.com,/2015/ 1 1/01!do-psychiatric-drugs-offer-a-meaningful-resolutionof. human-suffering!.

5. Marino Perez-Alvarez, "Hyperreflexivity as a Condition of Mental Disorder: A Clinical and Historical Perspective," Psi cothema 20, no.2 (2008):181-87.

6. "Worshiping Yourself," The Twisted Rope, March 6, 2014, https:/!thetwistedrope.wordpress.com/2014/03/06,'worshiping yourself!.

4. Barbara Ehrenreich, Dancing in the Streets:A History of Collective Joy (New York: Metropolitan Books, 2006).

5. Herbert Fingarette, Death: Philosophical Soundings (Chicago: Open Court, 1999),34-35.

6. Alex Lickerman, "Overcoming the Fear of Death," Psychology To­day, October 8, 2009, ww'psychologytoday.com!blog!happiness-in-world!200910!overcoming-the-fear-death.

6. Robert C. Solomon, Spiritualityfor the Skeptic: The Thoughtful Love ofLfi' (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 120.

7. Amundson, "Psychotherapy, Religion, and the Invention of the Self."

8. Noah Shachtman, "Troops Use 'Samurai' Meditation to Soothe PTSD," Wired, October 8, 2008, www.wired.com/2008/10/ samurai-soldier!.

9. "Rupert Brooke's Obituary in The Times,"

http:!!exhibits.lib.byu.edu/wwi!poets/rbobituary.html.

8. "Joe Hill," Union Songs, http:!!unionsong.com/u017.html.

9. Daniel Goleman, "The Experience of Touch: Research Points of a Critical Role," New York Times, February 2, 1988, www.nytimes.com/l 988!02!02!science!the-experience-of-touch-research-points-to-a-critical-role.html ?pagewanted=all.

10. Robinson Meyer, "Human Extinction Isn't That Unlikely," Atlan­tic, April 29, 2016, www.theatlantic.com!technology!archive! 2016!04!a-human-extinction-isnt-that-unlikely!480444!.

11. "The Irreconcilable Acceptance of Near-Term Extinction," Nature Bats Last, April 28, 2013, https:!!guymcpherson.com,'2013/04! the-irreconcilable-acceptance-of-near-term-extinction!.

234 ENDNOTES

CHAPTER TWELVE: KILLING THE SELF, REJOICING IN A

LIVING WORLD

1. "Jacques Monod," Today in Science History,

https : //todayinsci.com/M/Monodjacques/MonodJacques-Quotations.htm.

1. "The Triumph of Abrahamic Monotheism?," Religion Today, November 2, 2011, http://religion-today.blogspot.com/201 1/11/ triumph-of-abrahamic-monotheism.html.

3. Jessica Riskin, The Restless Clock: A History ofthe Centuries-Long Argument over What Makes Things Tick (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2016), 3.

1. Jackson Lears, "Material Issue," The Baffler, no. 32 (September 2016), https://thebaffler.com/salvos/material-issue-lears.

George Dvorsky; "Prominent Scientists Sign Declaration That Ani­mals Have Conscious Awareness, Just Like Us," Gizmodo, August 23, 2012, http://io9.gizmodo.com/5937356/prominent-scientists-sign-declaration-that-animals-have-conscious-awareness-just-like-us.

Stephen Hawking, "The Origin of the Universe," Hawking.org.uk, wwhawking.org.uk/the-origin-of-the-universe.html.

Rolf Ent, Thomas Ullrich, and Raju Venugopalan, "The Glue That Binds Us," ScientficAmeri can, May 2015, www.bnLgov/physics/ NTG/linkablejiles/pdf/SciAm-Glue-Final.pdf.

5. David Rieff, Swimming in a Sea ofDeath: A Son's Memoir (New York, Simon & Schuster, 2008), 167.

6. Ibid.

1. Michael Pollan, "The Trip Treatment," New Yorker, February 9, 2015, www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/02/09/trip-treatment.

Ibid.

8. Ibid.

1. Simon G. Powell, Magic Mushroom Explorer: Psilocybin and the AwakeningEarth (South Paris, ME: Park Street Press, 2015), 30.

Pollan, "The Trip Treatment."

"Bertolt Brecht: When in My White Room at the Charité," repro­duced at Tom Clark Beyond the Pale, January 12, 2012, http://tomclarkblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/bertolt-brecht-when-in-my-white-room-at.html.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Barbara Ehrenreich is the author of more than a dozen books, including the New York Times bestseller Nickel and Dimed. She has a PhD in cellular immunology from Rockefeller University and writes frequently about health care and medical science, among many other subjects. She lives in Virginia.

Natural

Causes

Life, Death

and the Illusion

of Control

Barbara Ehrenreich

GRANTA

2021/10/11

1] A History of Christian Thought Paul Tillich Preface + Ch 1

 A History of Christian Thought: From its Judaic and Hellenistic Origins to Existentialism by Paul Tillich | Goodreads





A History of Christian Thought: From its Judaic and Hellenistic Origins to Existentialism

by
Paul Tillich,
Carl E. Braaten (Editor)
4.17 · Rating details · 245 ratings · 14 reviews
Previously published in two separate volumes entitled 
A history of Christian thought and Perspectives on 19th and 20th century Protestant theology.

Paperback, 550 pages
Published November 15th 1972 by Touchstone 
(first published January 1st 1968)
====
URL  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Tillich

====

 The Concept of Dogma xxxvi

I]The Preparation for Christianity 1
A. The Kairos 1
B. The Universalism of the Roman Empire 2
C. Hellenistic Philosophy 3
1. Skepticism 3
2. The Platonic Tradition 6
3. The Stoics 7
4. Eclecticism 9
D. The Inter-Testamental Period 9
E. The Mystery Religions 13
F. The Method of the New Testament 14

II Theological Developments in the Ancient Church 17
A. The Apostolic Fathers 17
B. The Apologetic Movement 24
1. The Christian Philosophy 27
2. God and the Logos 29
C. Gnosticism 33
D. The Anti-Gnostic Fathers 37
1. The System of Authorities 38
2. The Montanist Reaction 40
3. God the Creator 41
4. The History of Salvation 43
5. Trinity and Cliristology 46
6. The Sacrament of Baptism 48
E. Neo-Platonism 50
F. Clement and Origen of Alexandria 55
1. Christianity and Philosophy 55
2. The Allegorical Method 57
3. The Doctrine of God 59
vi Contents
4. Christology 61
5. Eschatology 63
G. Dynamic and Modalistic Monarchianism 64
1. Paul of Samosata 65
2. Sabellius 66
H. The Trinitarian Controversy 68
1. Arianism 69
2. The Council of Nicaea 71
3. Athanasius and Marcellus 73
4. The Cappadocian Theologians 76
I. The Christological Problem 79
1. The Antiochean Theology 80
2. The Alexandrian Theology 84
3. The Council of Chalcedon 86
4. Leontius of Byzantium 88
J. Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite 90
K. Tertullian and Cyprian 98
'L. The Life and Thought of Augustine 103
1. The Development of Augustine 104
2. Augustine's Epistemology 111
3. The Idea of God 115
4. The Doctrine of Man 119
5. Philosophy of History 121
6. The Pelagian Controversy 122
7. The Doctrine of the Church 131

III Trends in the Middle Ages 134
A. Scholasticism, Mysticism, Biblicism 135
B. The Scholastic Method 137
C. Trends in Scholasticism 140
1. Dialectics and Tradition 140
2. Augustinianism and Aristotelianism 141
3. Thomism and Sootism 141
4. Nominalism and Realism 142
5. Pantheism and Church Doctrine 144
D. The Religious Forces 145
E. The Medieval Church 149
F. The Sacraments 154
G. Anselm of Canterbury 158
H. Abelard of Paris 167
I. Bernard of Clairvaux 172
J. Joachim of Floris 175

K. The Thirteenth Century 180
L. The Doctrines of Thomas Aquinas 192
M. William of Ockham 198
N. German Mysticism 201
0. The Pre-Reformers 203

IV Roman Catholicism from Trent to the Present 210
A. The Meaning of Counter-Reformation 210
B. The Doctrine of Authorities 211
C. The Doctrine of Sin 212
D. The Doctrine of Justification 213
E. The Sacraments 215
F. Papal Infallibility 218
C. Jansenism 221
II. Probahilism 223
1 11ccent Developments 224

V Ilir Iiiiiiigy iI Ihi Protestant Reformers 227
/\ Niiiiiiii I .iitIiii 227
I. Tho Itrukt Iiroiigii 227
2. I ,iiIlii'i ( iilirisrn of the Church 234
:i. I lh ( oiilIlit vlIIi iiiis,niis 237
I. Ilk Coidlicl wit ii tile Ivangelical Radicals 239
5. liii liii N I )O(t rules 242
a. iiie iihiical Principle 242
b. Sin and Faith 245
c. The Idea of God 247
d. The Doctrine of Christ 249
e. Church and State 251
B. Huldreich Zwingli 256
C. John Calvin 262
1. The Majesty of God 262
2. Providence and Predestination 264
3. The Christian Life 270
4. Church and State 272
5. The Authority of Scripture 274

VI The Development of Protestant Theology 276
A. The Period of Orthodoxy 276
1. Reason and Revelation 278
2. The Formal and Material Principles 280
B. Pietism 283
C. The Enlightenment 287

PART II
Introduction: Problem and Method 297

I Oscillating Emphases in Orthodoxy, Pietism,
and Rationalism 305
A. The Period of Orthodoxy 305
B. The Reaction of Pietism against Orthodoxy 311
C. The Rise of Rationalism 313

II The Enlightenment and its Problems 320
A. The Nature of Enlightenment 320
1. The Kantian Definition of Autonomy 320
2. Concepts of Reason 325
a. Universal Reason 326
b. Critical Reason 327
c. Intuitive Reason 328
d. Technical Reason 329
3. The Concept of Nature 330
4. The Concept of Harmony 332
B. The Attitude of the Enlightened Man 341
1. His Bourgeois Character 341
2. His Ideal of a Reasonable Religion 342
3. His Common-sense Morality 344
4. his Subjective Feeling 348
C. Intrinsic Conflicts of Enlightenment 349
1. Cosmic Pessimism 350
2. Cultural Vices 352
3. Personal Vices 353
4. Progress Based on Immorality 355
D. The Fulfillers and Critics of Enlightenment 356
1. Rousseau, The French Revolution, and Romanticism 356
1. Hume, The History of Religion, and Positivism 357
1. Kant, Moral Religion, and Radical Evil 360

III The Classic-Romantic Reaction against the
Enlightenment 367
A. Lessing, Historical Criticism, and the Rediscovery of Spinoza 367
B. The Synthesis of Spinoza and Kant 370

C. The Nature of Romanticism 372
1. The Infinite and Finite 372
2. The Emotional and the Aesthetic Elements in Romanticism 378
3. The Turn to the Past and the Valuation of Tradition 379
4. The Quest of Unity and Authority 382
5. The Negative and the Demonic in Romanticism 383

D. The Classical Theological Synthesis: Friedrich Schleiermacher 386
1. The Background of Schleicrmacher's Thought 388
2. His Concept of Religion as Feeling 391
3. His Positivistic Definition of Theology 398
4. His Interpretation of Christianity 405

E. The Universal Synthesis: Georg W. F. Hegel 410
1. The Greatness and the Tragic Hybris of Ilegels System 411
2. The Synthesis of God and Man (Mind and Person) 414
3. The Synthesis of Religion and Culture (Thought and  Imagination) 419
1. The Synthesis of State and Church 424
Providence, History, and Theodicy 426
The Christ as Reality and Symbol 430
Eternity against Immortality 431


IV The Breakdown of the Universal Synthesis 432

A. The Split in the Hegelian School 432
1. The Historical Problem: Strauss and Baur 423
1. The Anthropological Problem: Ludwig Feuerbach 435

B. Schelling's Criticism of Hegel 437

C. The Religious Revival and Its Theological Consequences 448
1. The Nature of the European Revival 449
2. The Theology of Repristination 453
1. Natural Science and the Fight over Darwinism 454

D. Kierkegaard's Existential Theology 458
1. Kierkegaard's Criticism of Hegel 460
2. Ethical Existence and the Human Situation (Anxiety, Despair) 462
3. The Nature of Faith (The Leap and Existential Truth) 464
4.  Criticism of Theology and Church 472

E. Political Radicalism and its Theological Significance 476
1. The Bourgeois Radicals 477
2. Marx's Relation to Hegel and Feuerbach 478
3. Marx's View of the Human Situation (Alienation) 480
4. Marx's Doctrine of Ideology and His Attack on Religion 481
5. Marx's Political Existentialism 484
6.    The Prophetic Element in Marx 485

F. Voluntarism and the Philosophy of Life 487
1. Schopenhatier's Idea of the Will 488
2. Nietzsche's Idea of Will-To-Power 493
3. Nietzsche's Doctrine of Resentment 494
1. The "Death of God" and the New Ideal of Man 497

V New Ways of Mediation 504
A. Experience and the Biblical Message 506
1. The Erlangen School 506
2. Martin Kähler 509
B. The "Back to Kant" Movement 511
C. Adolf von Harnack 515
D. Miscellaneous Movements in Theology 520
1. The Luther-Renaissance 520
2. Biblical Realism 520
3. Radical Criticism 521
4. Rudolf Bultmann 523
5. The History-of-Religions Approach 524
6. Ernst Troeltsch 526
7. Religious Socialism 530
8. Karl Barth 535
9. Existentialism 539
Index of Names 543
Index of Subjects 547
===

Preface to the Touchstone Edition

This history of Christian thought combines into one volume two hooks of Paul Tillich's lectures that have been previously pub­lished. The first part appeared under the title A History of Christian Thought, beginning with the Graeco-Roman prepara­tions for Christianity and ending with the post-Reformation development in Protestant theology. The second part first ap­peared as Perspectives on Nineteenth and Twentieth Century Protestant Theology, beginning with the rise of the Enlighten­ment and ending with the theology of Karl Barth and modern existentialism.* A History of Christian Thought originated as lectures delivered by Tillich at Union Theological Seminary in New York, stenographically recorded and transcribed by Peter N. John and distributed by him in a small first edition. A second edition appeared shortly thereafter, in which Peter John corrected a number of errors. At that time he acknowledged the need for a thorough revision of the text for matters of style and content. This I tried to accomplish in the first published edition by Har­per & Row, 1968. This edition now appears unaltered in this volume.

The second part of this volume contains tape-recorded lectures which Paul Tillich delivered at the Divinity School of the Uni­versity of Chicago during the spring quarter of the 1962-63 school year and is based entirely on his spoken words.

Tillich's history of the Christian tradition appears at a time when interest in new theological fads that come and go quickly has faded dramatically. The demise of Tillich's thought was pre­maturely nnounced. In the world of English-speaking theology no move ent has yet arisen to eclipse the influence of Paul Tillich. The wider dissemination of this influence, to a new gen­eration of college and seminary students, as well as to theologians who have a lot of catching up to do, is very much to be desired. Tillich introduces students to the roots of their own religious traditions, making the symbols of their faith more meaningful for today. He was and is a truly great teacher of theology.

CARL E. BRAATEN

Chicago, Illinois March 1972

 

* A comprehensive German edition of these volumes, edited by Ingeborg C. Ilennel, was published in 1971.

Paul Tillich and the Classical Christian Tradition by Carl E. Braaten

THE RADICALISM OF PAUL TILLIcH

it has been said that the real Tillich is the radical Tillich but the radicalism which moved Paul Tillich was not the iconoclastic spirit of those who wish to create de novo an original brand of Christianity; rather, it was the radicalism which moved the great prophetic spirits of the religious tradition. Tillich's term for it was the 'Protestant prin­ciple." This radical principle was to be used not against but for the sake of the "catholic substance" of the Christian tradition. One question which Tillich posed for his own theological effort was this: "How can the radicalism of prophetic criticism which is implied in the principles of genuine Protestantism be united with the classical tradition of dogma, sacred law, sacraments, hierarchy, cult, as preserved in the Catholic churches?"' Tillich also saw the danger in prophetic criticism. The prophet hopes to get to the heart of the matter with his knife of radical protest; the false prophet is known in the tradition as one who cuts out the heart itself. It was the true radicalism rooted in Biblical prophetis in which drove Tillich to criticize our religious and cultural forms of tra­dition. Thus, like the Old Testament prophets, his criticism of the tradi­tion was always from the tradition, from some deeper level in it, not from some arbitrary, neutral or alien standpoint outside the "theological circle .112

 

1 Tillich, "The Conquest of Intellectual Provincialism: Europe and America," Theology of Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1959), P. 169.

Most of Tillich's commentators and critics in America have had the impression that Tillich was a radical, perhaps even dangerous, innovator.3 The chief reason for this impression was often cited by Tillich himself. Americans—and perhaps moderns in general—have little sense of history. They are not aware of the sources of tradition from which they come. Europeans possess a more vivid historical consciousness than Americans, and for this reason European theologians are much less in­clined to stress the innovating features of Tillich's thought. Many of Tillich's favorite ideas and terms, which sounded utterly novel to American students, came originally from a long line of honored ances­tors. His basic categories and concepts, the style and structure of his thinking, were not unprecedented in the Christian tradition—to those who knew their history of thought. Tillich's uniqueness, his creativity and originality, lay in his power of thought, the comprehensive scope of his vision, his depth of insight, the systematic consistency with which he developed the internal relations of the various elements of his phi­losophy and theology, and the daring he displayed in crossing borders into new fields. He could be so actively immersed in the currents of his time and exert such vital influence on the shape of things to come because his roots were deeply embedded in and nourished by the classical traditions of the Christian Church.

DIALOGUE WITH THE CLASSICAL TnMrnoN

Tillich was a son of the whole tradition of the church in a measure that can hardly be said of any other theologian since the Reformation.

2 To be in the "theological circle" is to have made an existential decision, to be in the situation of faith. Cf. Tillich, Systematic Theology (Chicago: The Univer­sity of Chicago Press, 1951), Vol. II, Pp. 6, 8,9-11.

3 See Tillich's answer to a student's question, "Is Paul Tillich a dangerous man?" in Ultimate Concern, edited by D. Mackenzie Brown (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), pp. 188-93.

The Classical Christian Tradition    xv

Although Tillich confessed he was a Lutheran "by birth, education, religious experience, and theological reflection '114 he did not rest com­fortably within any traditional form of Lutheranism. He transcended so far as possible every limiting feature of his immediate heritage. The transconfessional style of his theology made it difficult for many of his Lutheran contemporaries to recognize him as a member of the same family.5 He did not have to try to be ecumenical; for the substance of his thinking was drawn from the whole sweep of the classical tradi­tion. His theology was a living dialogue with great men and ideas of the past, with the fathers of the ancient church, both Greek and Latin, with the schoolmen and mystics of the medieval period, with Renaissance humanists and Protestant reformers, with the theologians of liberalism and their neo-orthodox critics. His method of handling the tradition was eminently dialectical, in the spirit of the Sic et Non of Abelard.

Tillich's systematic theology was built up through the rhythm of raising and answering existential questions. Each of the five parts of the system contains two sections, one in which the human question is developed, the other in which the theological answer is given. He ad­mitted that there could very well have been an intermediate section which places his theological answer more explicitly within the context of the tradition.° The dialogue with the tradition mediated through the Scriptures and the church, the sort of thing which appears in small print in Karl Barth's Church Dogmatics, thus receded pretty much into the background of the Systematic Theology. This sacrifice of ex­plicit attention to the historical tradition had the result, I believe, in gaining for Tillich the reputation in some circles as a speculative theo­logian who arbitrarily projected ideas whether or not they squared with the central thrusts of the church's tradition. If that was the result, it is unfortunate. It conceals the catholicity of Tillich's mind and the extent

4 Tillich, The Interpretation of History (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1936),p.54.

5 Cf. my brief article, "Paul Tillich as a Lutheran Theologian," in The Chi­cago Lutheran Theological Seminary Record (August, 1962), Vol. 67, No. 3. See also the chapter by Jaroslav Pelikan, "Ein deutscher lutherischer Theologe in Amerika: Paul Tillich und die dogmatische Tradition," in Gott ist am Werk, the Festschrift for Hanns Lilje, edited by Heinz Brunotte and Erich Ruppel (Hamburg: Furche Verlag, 1959), PP. 27-36.

6 Systematic Theology, I, p. 66.

to which his systematic ideas were won through an intense intellectual struggle with the sources of the tradition.

To reveal more of this living background of Tillich's systematic the­ology, it has seemed important to us to publish some of his lectures on the history of thought. Seldom did he publish in the field of historical theology. He had a fear of being judged by the strict canons of scien­tific historiography. On the occasion of the Tillich Memorial Service in Chicago, Mircea Eliade was not exaggerating when he stated: "But, of course, Paul Tillich would never have become a historian of religions nor, as a matter of fact, a historian of anything else. He was interested in the existential meaning of history—Geschichte, not Historie."1 Yet, very few minds were so laden with the consciousness of history, with memories of the classical tradition. Tillich's students were awed by his ability to trace from memory the history of an idea through its main stages of development, observing even subtle shifts in the nuances of meaning at the main turning points. In fact, a great part of Tillich's career in teaching theology was devoted to lectures and seminars in the history of thought. Students who were privileged to study under Tillich at Union, Harvard, or Chicago reminisce today about their most memorable courses, such as the basic sequence in The I listory of Chris­tian Thought, or The History of Christian Mysticism, or The Pre-Socratics, or German Classical Idealism. Even students from back­grounds uncongenial to Tillich's views on the Christian faith could not fail to learn from him as an interpreter of the Christian tradition. Many were liberated from the strait jacket of a given denomina­tional tradition to become more open to the fullness of the common Christian heritage.

THE INTERPRETATION OF HISTORY

The key to an understanding of Tillich's handling of the tradition is his fundamental proposition that every interpretation is a creative union of the interpreter and the interpreted in a third beyond both of them.

7 Eliade, "Paul Tillich and the History of Religions," in The Future of Religions, by Paul Tillich, edited by Jerald C. Brauer (New York: Harper & Row, 1966), P. 3.

The Classical Christian Tradition   xvii

The ideal of unbiased historical research to report only the "naked facts" without any admixture of subjective interpretation Tillich called "a questionable concept."8 Without a union of the historian with the material he interprets there can be no real understanding of history. "The historian's task is to 'make alive' what has 'passed away.' "° The dimension of interpretation is made unavoidable because history itself is more than a series of facts. An historical event "is a syndrome (i.e., a running-together) of facts and interpretation." 0 Furthermore, the his­torian himself is unavoidably a member of a group which has a living tradition of memories and values. "Nobody writes history on a 'place above all places.'" The element of empathic participation in history is basic to the act of interpreting history.

Tillich was too much influenced by both the existentialist and the Marxist understandings of history to imagine that one could grasp the meaning of history by surveying the past in cool detachment. in a crucial passage Tillich emphatically states: "Only full involvement in historical action can give the basis for an interpretation of history. Historical activity is the key to understanding history.1112 This dynamic view of history arose out of Tillich's own struggle with the historical actualities of his situation. In one of his autobiographies he acknowl­edged that many of his most important concepts, such as the Protestant principle, kairos, the demonic, the Gestalt of grace, and the trio of theonomy, heteronomy, autonomy, were worked out for the sake of a new interpretation of history. "History became the central problem of my theology and philosophy," he said, "because of the historical reality as I found it when I returned from the first World War."13 With prophetic zeal he sounded forth the theme of kairos, that moment in time when the eternal breaks into history, issuing to his contemporaries a summons to a consciousness of history in the sense of the kairos. He

8 Systematic Theology, III, P. 301.

9 Systematic Theology, I, P. 104.

10 Systematic Theology, III, p. 302.

11 Ibid., p. 301.

12 Ibid., p. 349.

13 Tillich, The Protestant Era, translated by James Luther Adams (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1948), xvii.

allied himself in these years with religious socialism, and was no doubt the main theoretician of this movement.

When Tillich turned toward the past he had little interest in it for its own sake. His involvement in the present and his sense of respon­sibility for the future drove him to search out meanings from the past. "Whoever would maintain the idea of pure observation must content himself with numbers and names, statistics and newspaper clippings. He might collect thousands of things which could be verified but he Would not for that reason be able to understand what is actually happen­ing in the present. One is enabled to speak of that which is most vital in the present, of that which makes the present a generative force, only insofar as one immerses oneself in the creative process which brings the future forth out of the pat."14 To act in the present, one must understand oneself and one's situation; to understand this, one has to recapitulate the process by which the present situation has evolved. In the "Introduction" of this volume Tillich states that the primary purpose of his lectures on Protestant theology is to show "how we have arrived' at the present situation," or in other words, "to understand our­selves.""' The fascination for the past on its own account is given as a second and subordinate purpose. We have tried to indicate the primacy of Tillich's existential interest in the historical tradition by character­izing these lectures as "perspectives." The term "history," which Tillich requested us not to use, would have suggested to many people a his­toriographical treatment less preponderantly interpretative.

TILLICH AND EARLY CATHOLICISM

The knowledge of Tillich's theology could serve as a prerequisite to an advanced course in patristic studies, or vice versa. There are many bridges in Tillich's theology to the traditions of the ancient church. One immediately thinks, of course, of the centrality of the trinitarian and christological doctrines in Tillich as well as in the leading church fathers. No doubt it was Tillich's love for Greek philosophy which pre‑

14 Tillich, The Religious Situation, translated by H. Richard Niebuhr (Cleve­land: Meridian Books, 1956), P. 34.

15 Cf. infra, P. 1.

pared him for a sympathetic understanding of the development of these dogmas. Quite unlike the great historians of dogma in the Ritschlian school, especially Adolf von Harnack, Tillich esteemed the classic dog­mas of the Trinity and the Christ very highly as the appropriate re­ception of the Christian message in the categories of Hellenistic phi­losophy. Harnack's thesis that the "Hellenization of Christianity" was an intellectualistic distortion of the New Testament gospel resulted, Tillich claimed, from a misinterpretation of Greek thought. What Harnack did not understand was that "Greek thought is existentially concerned with the eternal, in which it seeks for eternal truth and eternal life.""' On the other hand, Tillich did not believe that the con­ciliar formulations of the ancient church were binding on all future theology. The categories that were used then are not unquestionably valid for our time. His reconstructions of these dogmas in his Systematic Theology are serious efforts to get beneath the outer crust of the old forthulas to clear the way for an understanding of the reality which originally they were meant to protect from heretical attacks. Critical essays and books have been and will continue to be written for a long time to come to assess to what extent Tillich succeeded in reinterpreting the old doctrines of the church.

The concept of the Logos in the early Greek fathers also found one of its stanchest allies in Tillich. Of all the leading contemporary theo­logians, Tillich was the only one who integrated the Logos doctrine into his own theological system. Without it he could not have been the apologetic theologian he was. When Tillich referred to himself as an apologetic theologian, he had in mind the example of the great second-century apologist, Justin Martyr, for whom the Logos doctrine was, as for Tillich, the universal principle of the divine self-manifestation. If the apologist is to answer the questions and accusations of the despisers of Christianity, he must discover some common ground. The common ground for both Justin and Tillich was the presence of the Logos beyond the boundaries of the church, making it possible for men in all religions and cultures to have a partial grasp of the truth, a love of beauty, and a moral sensitivity. Tillich could stand "on the

26 Systematic Theology, III, P. 287.

boundary"1 between theology and philosophy, church and society, religion and culture, because the Logos who became flesh was the same Logos who was universally at work in the structures of human existence. Ti]lich's apologetic writing demonstrates how he shared the conviction of the Apologists that Christians by no means have a monopoly on the truth, and that the truth, wherever it may be found, essentially belongs to us Christians. The Logos doctrine saved Tillich's theology from a false particularism that has hampered so much of the ecclesiastical tradition.

Tillich was never under any illusion that the first five centuries of the church provide any clear support for Protestantism against Roman Catholicism. What he stressed instead was how early the formative principles of Catholicism developed, especially in the defense against the onslaughts of Gnosticism. The closing of the canon, defining the apostolic tradition, the rule of faith, the formation of creeds, and also episcopal authority were developments which occurred very early, and cannot be written off as aberrations of the 'Dark Ages." Of course, Tillich was never able to endorse the rise of early Catholicism as an unambiguously salutary occurrence. in the light of the "Protestant principle" he could point out that the church paid a dear price in its struggle against heresies. What he called the heteronomous structures of an authoritarian church, which later resulted in the church of the Inquisition, had their beginnings in the anti-Gnostic response of Orthodoxy. Also every definition entails exclusion. When the church was pressed by heresies to defend itself, it had to define itself. This self-definition, Tillich believes, inevitably has a narrowing result. "The whole history of Christian dogma is a continuing narrowing down, but at the same time a defining. And the definition is important, because without it many elements would have undercut the whole church, would have denied its existence. The dogma, therefore, the dogmatic development, is not something merely lamentable or evil. It was the necessary form by which the church kept its very identity. . . . The tragic element in all history is that if something like this must be

17 Tilhich's autobiographical sketch by this title, On the Boundary (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1966). This edition is both a revision and a new transla­tion of Part I of The Interpretation of History.

done, it immediately has the consequence of narrowing down and ex­cluding very valuable elements."8 The theologian today has the onerous task of breaking through the definitions to recover if possible those valuable elements which for tragically necessary reasons were tempo­rarily excluded. With this sort of dialectical insight Tillich could af­firm that the church was basically correct in each instance in which it rejected a major heresy, but wrong when its self-defining formulations became rigid, as in the case of post-Tridentine Roman Catholicism and Protestant Orthodoxy. There is no solution to this problem of self-reduction through self-definition except by the continual reformation of the church (ecciesia semper reformanda).

The two theologians of the ancient church who had the greatest influence on Tillich were Origen and Augustine. Clearly it was their common bond of Neo-Platonism which attracted Tillich to their way of thinking. When Tillich expounded the doctrines of Origen and Augustine, it was often difficult to distinguish Tillich's own doctrine from theirs.19 This was not simply a case of Tillich reading his own ideas into Origen and Augustine; I think it was rather that he had read such ideas out of them, probably at first backtracking his way from Schelling, through Boehme, German mysticism, medieval Augus­tinianism, and early Christian Platonism. At any rate, whatever occa­sioned his interest in Origen and Augustine, he felt at home in them.

Origen's mysticism, his understanding of the symbolic significance of religious language, his doctrines of the Logos, the Trinity, creation, the transcendental fall, and his eschatology, especially its universalism, were all features which Tillich was able to adapt to his own systematic theology. I do not suggest that Tillich did this uncritically. In particu­lar, it was evident that despite his kindred feeling for Augustine, Til-lich rejected his conservative philosophy of history, namely that aspect of it which resulted in the ecclesiastical interpretation of the Kingdom of God as ruling on earth through the church's hierarchy and its sacramental mediations. This is a decisive deviation from Augustine. It meant that Tillich could ally himself more with the prophetic in‑

18 Brown, ed., Ultimate Concern, pp. 64-65.

19 Tillich's lectures on the history of Christian thought have been recorded and edited by Peter H. John, and have circulated on a limited scale among Tillich's students. A new edition of these lectures will be published soon.

terpretation of history, receiving its impulses from Joachim of Floris, the radical Franciscans, and the left-wing Reformers. His own doctrine of the kairos could hardly be accommodated by the traditional, ec­clesiastical interpretation of history, with its antichiliastic, nonutopian character. For Tillich and the prophetic line of interpretation the fu­ture may be pregnant with a decisively new meaning for which the past and the present are merely preparations. The conservative ec­clesiastical tendency has always managed to quash too vivid expectations of the future; such expectations are the spawning bed of revolutionary attitudes toward the present situation and the church's place in it.

THEONOMY AND MYsl'jcxsM IN THE MIDDLE Acns

Moving on to Tillich's interpretation of the Middle Ages, our first observation must be that he made important contributions toward over­coming the deep-seated rationalistic and Protestant prejudices against the so-called "Dark Ages." The one thousand years from Pope Gregory the Great to Doctor Martin Luther have often been pictured with con­tempt as a monolithic age of ignorance, priestly tyranny, and religious superstition. Directly against this stands the idealized image of the Middle Ages in Romanticism. Tillich was no romanticist, but he was influenced by its outlook on the Middle Ages. Christian romanticists look back to the Middle Ages as an ideal unity of religion and culture, as an organism in which the religious center irradiates through all forms of cultic, legal, moral, and aesthetic activities. Tillich could not share the hope of Romanticism to re-create a society according to the pattern of an idealized Middle Ages. On the other hand, Tillich drew the inspiration for his own concept of theonomy from this romanticist outlook on medieval society. "Protestantism cannot accept the medieval pattern either in Romantic or in Roman terms. It must look forward to a new theonomy. Yet, in order to do so, it must know what theonomy means, and this it can find in the Middle Ages."20

Tillich was able to give a sweeping overview of historical periods in terms of the principles of autonomy, heteronomy, and theonomy. "The-onomy can characterize a whole culture and give a key to the inter‑

20 Systematic Theology I, p. 149.

pretation of history."2' The ideal of a theonomous culture can never be fully realized on earth because of man's existential estrangement that runs through all history. But there may be partial realizations. Such a culture is one in which the inner potentialities of man are be­ing fulfilled through the driving presence of the Spirit, giving power, meaning, and direction to the autonomous forms of life. Autonomy de­scribes a situation which cuts itself off from the transcendent source and aim of life. Examples of more or less autonomous periods are those of skepticism in Greek philosophy, the Renaissance, the Enlighten­ment, and present-day secularism. 1-leteronomy represents the attempt to impose an alien law upon the autonomous structures of life, de­manding unconditional obedience to finite authorities, splitting the conscience and the inner life. The struggle between the independence of autonomy and the coercions of heteronomy can only be overcome through a new theonomy. This is a situation in which religion and culture are not divorced, where instead, according to one of Tillich's most famous formulations, culture provides the form of religion, and religion the substance of culture.

Applying these principles to the Middle Ages, Tillich emphasized, not their homogeneous nature, but the great diversities and transitions within medieval culture. He contrasted the relative openness of the medieval church toward a variety of ways of thinking to the narrow­ness of the church of the counter-Reformation. The high point of the Middle Ages was attained in the thirteenth century in the great sys­tems of the Scholastics. Particularly, the Augustinian line from Anseim of Canterbury to Bonaventura represented a theonomous style of the-ologizing.

heologizing. Here, beginning with faith, the mind was opened to perceive the reflections of the divine presence in all realms and facets of life. The end of the Middle Ages was characterized by nominalism and heteronomy. The world was split; the realms of religion and culture were separated. The double-truth theory was invented as a way of maintaining philosophy and theology side by side, in a state of mutual contradictoriness. A statement that is true in theology may be false in philosophy and one that is true in philosophy may be false in theol­ogy. Adherence to the creeds of the church can be maintained only on

21 Systematic Theology, III, p. 250.

the basis of an absolute authority. This positivistic notion of authority came to clear expression in Duns Scotus and William of Ockham. The concept of authority became heteronomous and was applied more and more in a heteronomous way by the church.

What seems unique in Tillich's interpretation of the Middle Ages is the fact that he attributed the disintegration of theonomy and the emerging gap between scientific autonomy and ecclesiastical heteronomy to none other than Thomas Aquinas. In one of his most self-revealing essays, "The Two Types of the Philosophy of Religion,"22 he traces the roots of the modern split between faith and knowledge back to the Thomistic denial of the Augustinian belief in the immediate presence of Cod in the act of knowing. For Thomas, Cod is first in the order of being but last in the order of knowledge. The knowledge of Cod is the end result of a line of reasoning, not the presupposition of all our knowing. Where reason leaves off, faith takes over. The act of faith, however, becomes the movement of the will to accept truth on authority. Tillich's verdict is clear: "This is the final outcome of the Thornistic dissolution of the Augustinian solution."28

This essay on "The Two Types of the Philosophy of Religion" re­veals how alive the philosophical debates of the Middle Ages were in Tillich's own thinking. He saw that fundamental issues were being decided with tremendous consequences for world history. When Tillich lectured on this period, he was no impartial observer of the debates; he was definitely a passionate participant. On most issues he took the side of the Augustinians against the Thomists, the Franciscans against the Dominicans, the realists against the nominalists, etc. The background to all these controversies was what Tillich called the eternal dialogue that continues in history between Plato and Aristotle. It is the dialogue between a philosophy of wisdom (sapientia) and a philosophy of science (scientia), or as Tillich put it, between the ontological and the cos­mological approaches to God.

Tillich's alliance with the Middle Ages appears also in his high evalu­ation of its mysticism. For Tillich there is an ineliminable element of mysticism in every religion. A question he often posed to his students

22 Theology of Culture, PP. 10-29.

23 Ibid., P. 19.

was whether "mysticism can be baptized by Christianity." His answer was "yes," provided we distinguish between the abstract type of mysti­cism of Hinduism and the concrete mysticism of Christianity. Con­crete mysticism is Christ-mysticism. Such a mysticism may be taken up into Christianity as an historical religion. Without the mystical element in religion Tillich observed that it becomes reduced to intellectualism or moralism. True doctrines or good morals become the essence of a religion without the mystical dimension. In this he agreed basically with Schleiermacher and Rudolf Otto against Kant and Albrecht Ritschl. He never joined Karl Barth and Emil Brunner in their whole­sale rejection of Christian mysticism. In this regard both Barth and Brunner were still clinging to the Ritschlian prejudice that Christianity and mysticism are irreconcilable opposites.

The eradication of all mystical elements in the Christian tradition would leave us but a torso. In Tillich's judgment this would require getting rid of half of the apostle Paul's theology, its Spirit-mysticism; the Christ-mysticism of men like Bernard of Clairvaux whom Luther prized so highly would have to go; indeed, much of the theology of the young Luther would have to be cut out, and along with it his understanding of faith. The Christian tradition would be a vast waste­land without its enrichment through mysticism. Of all the labels that have been applied to Tillich's theology, none of them come close to fitting unless they bring out the mystical ontology which undergirds his whole way of thinking. This is why it is not very revealing to label Tillich an existentialist as popularly done; it tends to obscure the underlying essentialism of his reflections on existence. Tillich's doc­trine of existence is cradled within the framework of his mystical on­tology. Only from this perspective should we understand many of Tillich's expressions which have created either offense or puzzlement, such as "God beyond the God of theism," "Being itself," "absolute faith," "ecstatic naturalism," "belief-ful realism," "symbolic knowledge," "essentialization," etc. These terms are echoes of the mystical side of Tillich and of the Christian tradition.

THE REDISCOVERY OF THE PROPHETIC TRADITION

The mystical side of Tillich's thought was always kept in tension with the prophetic aspect. Some of his sharpest judgments were made against mysticism as a way of self-elevation to the divine through ascetic exercises. In the name of the sola gratia principle of the Reformation he condemned mysticism as a method of self-salvation. The enigma many have sensed in Paul Tillich is due to this polygenous character of his thinking. Although his roots were planted deeply in the soil of neo-Platonic mysticism, German idealism, and nineteenth-century Protestant liberalism, nevertheless, Tillich placed this entire heritage under the criticism of the "Protestant principle." This principle he derived from the Pauline-Lutheran tradition. The estrangement between God and man is overcome solely on the basis of divine grace, without any merit or worthiness on man's part. The existential power and theological relevance of the Reformation doctrine of justification by grace alone through faith alone was mediated to Paul Tillich by his teacher Martin Kahler. Tillich, however, radicalized it to meet even the situation of the doubter. "Not only he who is in sin but also he who is in doubt is justified through faith. The situation of doubt, even of doubt about Cod, need not separate us from God."24

Tillich bemoaned the fact that modern man can scarcely understand the meaning of justification. For this reason he exchanged the legal imagery taken from the courtroom for new expressions borrowed from the psychoanalytic situation in which the therapist accepts the patient as he is. Justification by grace through faith is interpreted as our being accepted in spite of the fact we are unacceptable. The whole gospel is contained in the phrase "in spite of." In spite of our sin and guilt, in spite of our condemnation and unbelief, in spite of our doubts and our total unworthiness, the miracle of the good news is for just such people. "Justification is the paradox that man the sinner is justified, that man the unrighteous is righteous; that man the unholy is holy, namely, in the judgment of God, which is not based on any human achieve­ments but only on the divine, self-surrendering grace. Where this

24 The Protestant Era, xiv.

The Classical Christian Tradition xxvii

paradox of the divine-human relationship is understood and accepted, all ideologies are destroyed. Man does not have to deceive himself about himself, because he is accepted as he is, in the total perversion of his existence."25

An important part of Paul Tillich's mission to American Protestantism was to reinterpret in contemporary terms the message of the Reforma­tion. He felt that American Protestantism had scarcely been touched by the prophetic message of Luther and Calvin. Lectures he delivered at The Washington Cathedral Library, Washington, D.C., in 1950, dealt with "The Recovery of the Prophetic Tradition in the Reforma­tion" and are now published in Volume VII of the collected works of Paul Tillich in German .211 The great doctrines of the Reformation, which have become mummified for many of its heirs, are in Tillich's treatment living symbols of the new relationship to God which pro­vided the explosive power of Luther's reformatory work. The poignancy of Tillich's own prophetic criticism of American Protestantism's pseudo-orthodoxies, shallow liberalisms, and puritan moralisms was due to his grasp of Luther's message. His observation on Protestant preaching in America was that it too often tends to make the grace of God, that is, God's attitude toward man, depend on the individual's moral earnest­ness, religious devotion, or true beliefs. The formula "justification by faith" has been retained, to be sure, but then, as Tillich rightly pointed out, faith is transformed into a work which a man is exhorted to per­form on his own conscious decision. To avoid this Pelagianizing impli­cation Tillich suggested that it might help to say justification through faith instead of by faith. This would mean that faith does not cause but mediates God's grace. Tillich's little book, Dynamics of Faith,27 was written in part to overcome dreadful distortions of the concept of faith. Faith is distorted when it is conceived anthropocentrically as either a knowing (intellectualism) or a doing (moralism) or a feeling

25 Ibid., p. 170.

26 "Die Wiederentdeckung der prophetischen Tradition in der Reformation," Der Protestantismus als Kritik und Gestaltung (Stuttgart: Evangelisches Ver-lagswerk, 1962), Gesammelte Werke, VII, pp. 171-215. An English version of these lectures was published; the German edition, however, is by Tillich's re­quest the authoritative one.

27 New York: Harper & Row, 1957.

(emotionalism). Tillich's own definition of faith as a state of being grasped by an ultimate concern was an attempt to use an expression which suggests that faith involves both the depths and the totality of the self, and is therefore not merely the function of a particular faculty of the mind.

The extent of Luther's influence on Tillich's mind cannot be detailed here. Several connections may, however, be worth a brief mention. Luther said that what makes a theologian is his ability to distinguish rightly between law and gospel. This means that like the two natures of Christ, law and gospel must be differentiated without being sepa­rated (Nestorianism) or being confused (Monophysitism). Tillich rarely ever used the categories of law and gospel as an explicit theo­logical formula. The structure of his thinking is, however, clearly pat­terned after this feature of Luther's theology. It makes its appearance in Tillich's system as the methodological principle of correlation. He does not develop a doctrine about law and gospel; instead all his think­ing is structured in terms of it. His essays dealing with theology and culture, the plan of his Systematic Theology, and all his sermons show that before he would announce the Christian answer, the kerygma, he would carefully describe the human predicament. The description of the human predicament is man's existence under the law; the presenta­tion of the Christian answer offers the new possibility of life under the gospel. The sequence is always law before gospel, that is, always the posing of the question before the attempt to answer. For Tillich this is the proper theological method, and at just this point he deviated from Karl Barth who placed the gospel before the law, who spoke of Christ before turning to the analysis of the actual human situation as man today experiences it. Tillich's plea for a fruitful correlation between phi­losophy and theology also rests upon this law/gospel basis. When he states that philosophy raises the question which theology must answer, he is saying in another way that the gospel is the divine response to the questionability of human existence under the law. Philosophy func­tions analogously to the law as theology does to the gospel.

Tillich believed that the "law of contrasts" in Luther's doctrine of God can help to counter the trend in Protestant theology to rationalize and moralize the picture of God. This law of contrasts is expressed in a series of terms that must be maintained in a relation of dialectical

tension to each other: e.g., the hiddenness of God and the revealedness of God, the wrath of God and the love of God, the strange work of God (opus alienuin) and the proper work of God (opus roprium), God's kingdom on the left hand and his kingdom on the right hand, etc. This style of thinking in terms of dialectical tension between contrasting concepts also characterized Tillich's theology. One can see shades of this in Tillich's analysis of the ontological polarities in the depth of the divine life and in his trinitarian principles. The difference, of course, between Tillich and Luther must also be acknowledged. Between them stood Jacob Boehme who through German classical idealism, especially Schelling, provided Tillich with a powerful model of dialectical thinking in mystical-ontological categories. Thus, for example, Luther's idea of the devil as the agent of God's wrath makes its appearance in the tradition of mystical theology, running from Boehme through Schelling to Tillich, as a negative principle, as the principle of nonbeing, gnawing at the foundations of reality. Also the mystical feeling for depth is brought out by the idea of the abyss in the divine life, the Ungrund in Boehme's language. Tillich saw that both Luther and Boehme's ideas of God had their common background in late medieval mysticism as expressed, for example, in the Theologia Gerinanica. He drew upon this tradition in protesting the reduction of the picture of God in late nineteenth-century Protestantism to the simple image of a loving father. Hence, for Tillich the symbol of the wrath of God was not merely an outdated notion of primitive myth­ology that can be excised from our picture of God. Tillich was always grateful to Rudolf Otto's book, The Idea of the Holy, for making him more deeply aware of the abysmal mystery of God, the mysterium tremendum et fascinosuin. And on this point he was convinced that Otto was a better interpreter of Luther's theology than the leading Ritschlians had been.

FROM ORTHODOXY TO NEO-ORTHODOXY

The rest of the story of Tillich as an interpreter of the Christian tra­dition can be had by reading this book. Although its title promises to bring out Tillich's perspectives on theology in the nineteenth and twen­tieth centuries, he actually reaches back to the period of Protestant

Orthodoxy to begin his account of the development. He lays out the main principles of theology in the seventeenth and eighteenth cen­turies. The period of Protestant Scholasticism did not evoke in Tillich, as in many of his contemporaries, a feeling of revulsion. He ranked it as part of the "classical tradition," not as an aberration from which we have nothing to learn. Not the theologians of Orthodoxy but their modern imitators were the butt of Tillich's scorn. The original pietists, men like Spener and Zinzendorf, were likewise not to be disparaged, only their followers who tried to make a method out of their piety. In numerous places in Tillich's writings he shows how he would mediate between Orthodoxy and Pietism on the question whether theology could be done only by those who are regenerated.28 His answer was that the Pietists were right in stressing that theology involves existential com­mitment, but wrong in making that commitment a matter of absolute certainty. This leads to subjectivism in theology against which the Orthodox theologians rightly protested.

One of Tillich's most provocative theses in this book states that mysticism is the mother of rationalism. Both have in common a sub­jectivist outlook; the "inner light," by a slight shift of emphasis, be­comes the autonomous reason. This hypothesis can perhaps best be tested by examining to see to what extent the pietists and the rational­ists allied themselves in the attack on Orthodoxy and to what extent rationalism prospered most where Pietism had gained the strongest foothold. The exact nature of the alliance would be an interesting sub­ject for careful historical research.

The sections on Schleiermacher and Hegel are revealing of Tillich's indebtedness to them. It must be remembered that Tillich kept alive the memory of these figures at a time when it was generally popular in theology to debunk them. Schleiermacher was glibly dismissed as a mystic and Hegel as a speculative philosopher. SØren Kierkegaard's verdict on Hegel was accepted by many as the last word, and Emil Brunner's book on Schleiermacher charged the ills of modem Protes­tantism to his account .29 Tillich used to recall how hostile the reaction was during the twenties and thirties to his seminars on these men. It

28 Systematic Theology, I, p. 11.

29 Die Mystik und das Wort (Tubingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1924).

The Classical Christian Tradition xxxi

is to Tillich's credit that he maintained for himself and imparted to others a sense of balance toward the era of liberalism. Today there is a renewed interest in the thought of both Schleiermacher and Hegel, not only for historical reasons, but also for their constructive theologi­cal significance. The new affirmation of Hegel, that is, the early Hegel, in German theology is a movement with which he was not intimately acquainted, but with which, nonetheless, his own theology has certain strong affinities.30

Tillich's attitude toward liberalism was dialectical. When he first be­came known in America, he tended to be classified with the neo-ortho-dox movement. He shared its critique of the liberal doctrine of progress and sounded similar notes on man's radical estrangement. He attacked the illusory schemes of self-salvation and pointed to the grace of God, to the new being in Christ, and to the Kingdom of Cod beyond history as the source of man's hope for a real fulfillment. The brand of liberal­ism he most readily rejected was the reduction of Christianity to the religion of Jesus. Liberalism's attempt to apply the methods of higher criticism to recover the historical Jesus beneath the various apostolic portraitures of Jesus as the Christ provided no adequate basis for Chris­tian faith. He pronounced the search for the historical Jesus a failure, and believed that Bultmann's skepticism toward the sources was largely justified. In his student days the ascendant form of liberalism was the Ritschlian school. Tillich could never share the basic outlook of the Ritschlian theologians, neither their antimetaphysical bias nor their rejection of mysticism, neither their "back to Kant" posture nor their ethicization of Christianity. The University of Marburg was the center of the Kant-Ritschl sphere of influence. Tillich came from the Univer­sity of Halle, where the traditions of German classical idealism and the theology of revivalism or pietism were mediated to him by his professors of philosophy and theology, the most often acknowledged of whom was Martin Kähler. This difference between Haile and Marburg sym­bolizes, perhaps even accounts for, the opposition between Tillich and Bultmann, the Marburg professor of New Testament. Bultmann was trained under Wilhelm Herrmann, who tended to teach dogmatics in

30 Inter cilia, Jurgen Moitmanu, Wolf-Dieter Marsch, also Wolfhart Pannen-berg.

the form of ethics. Tillich criticized Bultmann's demythologizing of the New Testament because only its ethical symbolism remains in his existentialist interpretation. The cosmic symbolism drops out of sight; it is removed as so much primitive mythology. Tillich, the ontologist par excellence, was passionately interested in the cosmic symbols. There­fore, demythologizing for Tillich did not mean the removal of such symbols, but deliteralization and interpretation. Since ethics is the focus of Bultmann's interpretation, the basic appeal is for decision; his is a theology of decision. By marked contrast Tillich's interpretation is in terms of ontological categories; he spoke of participatioli in the reality becoming transparent through the symbols. The idea of participation suggests that even the dimension of the unconscious is involved in the religious act; the idea of decision confines the religious act to the level of consciousness. In this light we can understand why Tillich's think­ing was thoroughly sacramental; the decisionism of existentialist the­ology, on the other hand, leaves no room for the sacramental aspects of religion.

The main body of this volume deals with the great prophetic voices of the nineteenth century. Many of these were on the fringes of the Christian tradition, some even among its most bitter opponents. Til-lich's selective treatment of this period focuses on the critical thrust from the philosophical side. He leaves largely out of account the de-velopments

evelopments in historical criticism, the investigation of the origins of primitive Christianity; also he pays little attention to the reconstructions of church doctrine that were being advanced by professional theologians. The reason for this selectivity is Tillich's conviction that the impetus to historical research and doctrinal reformulation came from changes in philosophical outlook. One has only to think of the dependence of historical Critics like David F. Strauss and Ferdinand C. Baur on Hegel's philosophy of history, or of the dependence of dogmatic theologians like Alexander Schweizer and J. C. K. vori Hofmann on Schleier-macher's philosophy of religion. The greatness of Tillich's interpreta­tion lies in his masterful ability to detect and trace out the repercussions of a philosophical concept upon the subsequent course of things.

The more immediate reason, however, for slanting the selection toward the philosophical challenges to Christian theology was Tillich's

The Classical Christian Tradition xxxiii

own mind-set and vocational self-understanding. He communicated best with persons of a philosophical orientation and he had an al­most evangelistic zeal to recommend the Christian message to the intellectual doubters and scoffers of the faith. His account of the nine­teenth-century critics of Christianity is simultaneously a revelation of Tillich's intellectual autobiography; it serves as a mirroring of Tillich's dialogue with the radical questions which modern culture places on the theological agenda. I think it provides documentary evidence of the assertion that Tillich was a radical theologian who searched into the depths of the tradition to find positive answers to the questions of modern man. One of his last statements confirms this estimate of his own theological intention: "I presuppose in my theological thinking the entire history of Christian thought up until now, and I consider the attitude of those people who are in doubt or estrangement or oppo­sition to everything ecclesiastical and religious, including Christianity. And I have to speak to them. My work is with those who ask questions, and for them I am here."3'

Tillich's career was begun when liberal theology was on the wane; he lived through the transitions of theology from the rise of "crisis" theology to its transformation by Barth into neo-orthodoxy, and from the decline of Barth's influence to the paramountcy of Bultmannianism after World War II. In half a century theology had gone a full cycle; Tillich observed the signs of the revival of liberalism. In his last Chicago address entitled "The Significance of the History of Religions for the Systematic Theologian," Tillich turned to the question of the future of theology. He saw that we were standing at a kind of cross­roads. Theology could go with the secular group down a road strewn with the paradoxes of "a religion of non-religion" or of a "theology-without-God language,"32 or it could take an opposite route toward a theology of the history of religions. Tillich's hope for the future of theology was the latter. He saw no promising future for theology if it clings to the exclusive attitudes of neo-orthodoxy or joins the "death of God" group. Theology would have to meet a new challenge: "There­fore, as theologians, we have to break through two barriers against a

31 Brown, ed., Ultimate Concern, p. 191.

32 The Future of Religions, p. 80.

xxxiv          A History of Christian Thought

free approach to the history of religions: the orthodox-exclusive one and the secular-rejective one .1133 A theology fully informed by the universal revelation of God in the history of religions and purified by the concrete event on which Christianity as a particular religion is based points to a way beyond these two barriers. A religion which combines both the universal and concrete aspects Tillich called "The Religion of the Concrete Spirit."34

Tillich's vision of the future of theology was formed in part through his association with Professor Mircea Eliade in their joint seminars on "History of Religions and Systematic Theology" in 1964. Eliade reports how Tillich opened his mind to the new stimulus from the side of the history of religions. For Tillich, Eliade states, this was an occasion for the "renewal of his own Systematic Theology.1135 He did not ask his theological students to look upon his system of theology as an achievement that could not be transcended. To the end Tillich dis­played an amazing freedom to press beyond the limits of his own sys­tem and to point out new options for theology. Eliade's picture of Til-lich in their seminars is the way Tillich himself would have had us remember him; it is the picture of "how Tillich was fighting his way to a new understanding of systematic theology."86

33 Ibid., p. 83.

34 Ibid., . 87.

8 "Pau1Filhich and the History of Religions," op. cit., p. 33. 86 Ibid., p. 35.

PART I Introduction:The Concept of Dogma

ALL human experience implies the element of thought, simply because the intellectual or spiritual life of man is embodied in his language. Language is thought expressed in words spoken and heard. There is no human existence without thought. The emotionalism that is so rampant in religion is not more but less than thinking, and reduces religion to the level of sub-human experience of reality.

Schleiermacher emphasized the function of "feeling" in religion and Hegel emphasized "thought", giving rise to the tension be­tween them. Hegel said that even dogs have feeling, but man has thought. This was based on an unintentional misunderstanding of what Schleiermacher meant by "feeling", one that we often find repeated even today. Yet it expresses the truth that man cannot be without thought. He must think even if he is a most pious Christian without any theological education. Even in reli­gion we give names to special objects; we distinguish acts of the divine; we relate symbols to each other and explain their mean­ings. There is language in every religion, and where there is lan­guage there are universals or concepts that one must use even at the most primitive level of thought. It is interesting that this conflict between Hegel and Schleiermacher was anticipated al­ready in the third century by Clement of Alexandria who said that if animals had a religion, it would be mute, without words.

Reality precedes thought; it is equally true, however, that thought shapes reality. They are interdependent; one cannot be abstracted from the other. We should remember this when we come to the discussions on the trinity and christology. Here on the basis of much thought the church fathers made decisions

which have influenced the life of all Christians ever since, even the most primitive.

There is also the development of methodological thought which proceeds according to the rules of logic and uses methods in order to deal with experiences. When this methodological thought is expressed in speaking or writing and communicated to other people, it produces theological doctrines. This is a development beyond the more primitive use of thought. Ideally such a development leads to a theological system. Now a system is not something in which to dwell. Everyone who dwells within a system feels after some time that it becomes a prison. If you produce a systematic theology, as I have done, you try to go beyond it in order not to be imprisoned in it. Nevertheless, the system is necessary because it is the form of consistency. I have found that students who express the greatest misgivings about the systematic character of my theology are the very ones who are most impatient when discovering two of my statements that contradict each other. They are unhappy to find one point in which the hidden system has a gap. But when I develop the system further to close this gap, they feel that is a mean attempt on my part to imprison them. This is a very interesting double reaction. Yet it is understandable, because if the system is taken as a final answer, it becomes even worse than a prison. If we understand the system, however, as an attempt to bring theo­logical concepts to a consistent form of expression in which there are no contradictions, then we cannot avoid it. Even if you think in fragments, as some philosophers and theologians (and some great Ones) have done, then each fragment implicitly contains a system. When you read the fragments of Nietzsche—in my opinion the greatest fragmentist in philosophy—you can find implied in each of them a whole system of life. So a system cannot be avoided unless you choose to make nonsensical or self-contradic­tory statements. Of course, this is sometimes done.

The system has the danger not only of becoming a prison, but also of moving within itself. It may separate itself from reality and become something which is, so to speak, above the reality it is supposed to describe. Therefore, my interest is not so much in the systems as such, but in their power to express the reality of the church and its life.

The doctrines of the church have been called dogmas. In

former times this type of course used to be called "the history of dogma". Now we call it "the history of Christian thought", but this is only a change in name. Actually, nobody would dare to present a complete history of what every theologian in the Christian Church has thought. That would be an ocean of con­tradictory ideas. The purpose of this course is quite different, namely, to show those thoughts which have become accepted expressions of the life of the church. This is what the word "dogma" originally meant.

The concept of dogma is one of those things which stand be­tween the church and the secular world. Most secular people are afraid of the dogmas of the church, and not only secular people but also members of the churches themselves. "Dogma" is like a red cloth waved before the bull in a bull fight; it provokes anger or aggressiveness, and in some cases flight. I think the latter is most often the case with secular people in relation to the church. To understand this we have to examine the history of the con­cept of dogma, which is very interesting.

The first step in this history is the use 'of "dogma" derived from the Greek word dokein, which means "to think, imagine, or hold an opinion". In the schools of Greek philosophy preceding Christianity dogmata were the doctrines which differentiated the various schools from each other, the Academics (Plato), the Peripatetics (Aristotle), the Stoics, the Skeptics, and the Pytha­goreans. Each of these schools had its own fundamental doctrines. If someone wanted to become a member of one of these schools, he had to accept at least the basic presuppositions which dis­tinguished that school from the others. So even the philosophical schools were not without their dogmata.

In similar fashion the Christian doctrines were understood as dogmata which distinguished the Christian school from the philo­sophical schools. This was accepted as natural; it was not like a red cloth which produces anger. The Christian dogma in the early period was the expression of what Christians accepted when they entered Christian congregations, at great risk and with a tremendous transformation of their lives. So a dogma was never just a theoretical statement by an individual; it was the expression of a reality, the reality of the church.

Secondly, all dogmas were formulated negatively, that is, as reactions against misinterpretations from inside the church.

This is true even of the Apostles' Creed. Take the first article of the Creed, "I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth." This is not simply a statement that says some­thing in itself. It is at the same time the rejection of dualism, formulated after a life-and-death struggle of a hundred years. The same is true of the other dogmas. The later they are, the more clearly they show this negative character. We may call them protective doctrines, for they were intended to protect the substance of the biblical message. To an extent the substance was fluid; of course, there was a fixed core, the confession that Jesus was the Christ. But beyond this everything was in motion. When new doctrines arose which seemed to undercut the funda­mental confession, the protective doctrines were added to it. In this way the dogmas arose. Luther recognized this fact that the dogmas were not the result of a theoretical interest, but arose from the need to protect the Christian substance.

Since each new protective statement was itself subject to mis­interpretation, there was always the need for sharper theoretical formulations. In order to do this it was necessary to use philo­sophical terms. This is how the many philosophical concepts entered into the Christian dogmas. It was not that people were interested in them as philosophical concepts. Luther was very frank about this; he openly declared that he disliked terms like "trinity", "homoousios", etc., but he admitted that they must be used, however unfortunate, because we have no better ones. Theoretical formulations must be made when other people formu­late doctrines theoretically in such a way that the substance seems to be endangered.

The next step in the history of this concept was for dogmas to become accepted as canon law by the church. Law according to the canon is the rule of thought or behavior. Canon law is the ecclesiastical law to which everybody who belongs to the church must subject himself. Thus the dogma receives a legal sanction. In the Roman Church the dogma is part of canon law; its author­ity comes from the legal realm. This is in line with the general development of the Roman Church; the word "Roman" has the connotation of legalistic development.

However, the tremendous reaction against dogma in the last four centuries would perhaps not have been created without one further step: the ecclesiastical law became accepted as civil law

by medieval society. This meant that the person who breaks the canonic law of doctrines is not only a heretic, one who disagrees with the fundamental doctrines of the church, but he is also a criminal against the state. It is this last point which has produced the radical reaction in modern times against dogma. Since the heretic undermines not only the church but also the state, he must be not only excommunicated but also delivered into the hands of the civil authorities to be punished as a criminal. It was this state of the dogma against which the Enlightenment was fighting. The Reformation itself was still pretty much in line with the prior development of dogma. But certainly since the En­lightenment all liberal thinking has been characterized by the attempt to avoid dogma. This trend was also supported by the development of science. Science and philosophy had to be given complete freedom in order to make possible their creative growth.

In his famous History of Dogma Adolph von Harnack raised the question whether dogiiia has not come to an end in view of its dissolution in the early period of the Enlightenment. He con­cedes that there is still dogma in orthodox Protestantism, but he believes that the last step in the history of dogma was reached when the Protestant dogma was dissolved by the Enlightenment. Since then there is really no dogma in Protestantism. Now this implies a very narrow concept of dogma, and Harnack is aware that he is using the concept in a narrow sense, namely, in the sense of the christological-trinitarian doctrine of the ancient church. Reinhold Seeberg emphasized that, on the contrary, the dogmatic development did not end with the coming of the En­lightenment, but is still going on.

Here we face a very important systematic question. Are there any dogmas in present-day Protestantism? Those of you who enter the ministry must take some kind of examination by the church, which is not so much an examination of knowledge as of faith. The churches want to know whether you agree with their fundamental dogmatic tenets. They often conduct these examina­tions in a very narrow way, without much understanding of the developments in theology since Protestant Orthodoxy. Many students have an inner revolt against these examinations of faith, but you should not forget that you are entering a particular group which is different from other groups. First of all, it is a Christian and not a pagan group; or it is a Protestant and not a

Catholic group; and within Protestantism it could be either an Episcopalian or a Baptist group. Now this means that the church has a justified interest in having those who represent it show some acceptance of its foundations. Every baseball team demands that its members accept its rules and standards. Why should the church leave it completely to the arbitrary feelings of the indivi­dual? This is impossible.

It is one of the tasks of systematic theology to help the churches to solve this problem in a way which is not too narrow-minded and not dependent on the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century theologians. There is some fundamental point which is accepted if somebody accepts the church. I believe that it is not a matter of the church requiring its ministers to accept a series of dogmas. How could they honestly say that they have no doubts about any of these dogmas? If they had no doubts, they would hardly be very good Christians, because the intellectual life is as ambigu­ous as the moral life. And who would call himself morally perfect? How then could someone call himself intellectually perfect? The element of doubt is an element in faith itself. What the church should do is to accept someone who says that the faith for which the church stands is a matter of his ultimate concern, which he wants to serve with all his strength. But if he is asked to say what he believes about this or that doctrine, he is driven into a kind of dishonesty. If he says he agrees completely with a given doctrine, for example, the doctrine of the Virgin Birth, either he is dis­honest or he must cease to think. If he cannot cease to think, he must also doubt. That is the problem. I think the only solution on Protestant soil is to say that this whole set of doctrines represents one's own ultimate concern, that one desires to serve in this group which has this basis as its ultimate concern. But one can never promise not to doubt any one of these particular doctrines.

The dogma should not be abolished but interpreted in such a way that it is no longer a suppressive power which produces dis­honesty or flight. Instead it is a wonderful and profound expres­sion of the actual life of the church. In this sense I will try to show that in discussing these dogmas, even when they are ex­pressed in the most abstract formulations by means of difficult Creek concepts, we are dealing with those things which the church believed to be the most adequate expression for its life and devotion in its life-and-death struggle against the pagan and

xlii      Introduction: The Concept of Dogma

Jewish worlds outside, and against all the disintegrating tenden­cies which appeared inside. My conclusion is that we should estimate the dogma very highly; there is something great about it. But it should not be taken as a set of particular doctrines to which one must subscribe. This is against the spirit of the dogma, against the spirit of Christianity.

CHAPTER I The Preparation for Christianity

A. THE Kairos

ACCORDING to the apostle Paul there does not always exist the possibility that that can happen which, for example, happened in the appearance of Jesus as the Christ. This happened in one special moment of history when everything was ready for it to happen. We will now discuss the "readiness". Paul speaks of the kairos in describing the feeling that the time was ripe, mature, or prepared. This Greek word is an example of the rich­ness of the Greek language in comparison with the poverty of modern languages. We have only one word for "time". The Greeks had two words, chronos and kairos. Chronos is clock time, time which is measured, as we have it in words like "chronology" and "chronometer". Kairos is not the quantitative time of the clock, but the qualitative time of the occasion, the right time. (Cf. its use in some of the Gospel stories.) There are things that happen when the right time, the kairos, has not yet come. Kairos is the time which indicates that something has happened which makes an action possible or impossible. We all experience moments in our lives when we feel that now is the right time to do something, now we are mature enough, now we can make the decision. This is the kairos. It was in this sense that Paul and the early church spoke of the kairos, the right time for the coming of the Christ. The early church, and Paul to a certain extent, tried to show why the time in which Christ appeared was the right time, how his appearance was made possible by a providential constellation of factors.

What we must do now is to show the preparation for Christian

2               A History of Christian Thought

theology in the world situation into which Jesus came. We will do this from a theological point of view—there are others—and thus provide an understanding of the possibilities of a Christian theology. It is not as if the revelation from Christ fell down like a stone from heaven, as some theologians seem to believe. "Here it is; you must take it or leave it." This is contrary to Paul. Actually there is a universal revelatory power going through all history and preparing for that which Christianity considers to be the ultimate revelation.

B. THE UNIVERSALISM OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE

The actual situation into which the New Testament event came was the universalism of the Roman Empire. This meant some­thing negative and positive at the same time. Negatively it meant the breakdown of national religions and cultures. Positively it meant that the idea of mankind as a whole could be conceived at that time. The Roman Empire produced a definite conscious­ness of world history, in contrast to accidental national histories. World history is now not only a purpose which will be actualized in history, in the sense of the prophets; instead it has become an empirical reality. This is the positive meaning of Rome. Rome represents the universal monarchy in which the whole known world is united. This idea has been taken over by the Roman Church, but applied to the pope. It is still actual in the Roman Church; it means that Rome still claims the monarchic power over all the world, following the Roman Empire in this. It is perhaps an important remark generally that we should never forget that the Roman Church is Roman, that the development of this church is influenced not only by Christianity but also by the Roman Empire, by its greatness and by its idea of law. The Roman Church took over the heritage of the Roman Empire. We should never forget this fact. If we are tempted to evaluate the Roman Church more highly than we should, we ought to ask ourselves: how many Roman elements are in it, and to what extent are they valid for us in our culture? We should do the same thing with the Greek philosophical concepts which created the Christian dogma. To what degree are they valid today? Of course, it is not necessary to reject something simply because it happens to be Roman or Greek, but neither is it necessary to

The Preparation for Christianity    3

accept something which the church has derived from Rome or Greece, even if sanctioned by a dogmatic decision.

C. HELLENISTIC PIuLosoPnY

Within this realm of one world, of a world history and monarchy created by Rome, we have Creek thought. This is the Hellenistic period of Greek philosophy. We distinguish the classical period of Greek thought, which ends with the death of Aristotle, from the Hellenistic period which includes the Stoics, Epicureans, Neo-Pythagoreans, Skeptics, and Neo-Platonists. This Hellenistic period is the immediate source of much of Christian thought. It was not so much classical Greek thinking but Hellenistic thought which influenced early Christianity.

Again I want to distinguish the negative and the positive elements in Greek thought in the period of the kairos, the period of the ancient world corning to an end. The negative side is what we would call Skepticism. Skepticism, not only in the school of the Skeptics but also in the other schools of Greek philosophy, is the end of the tremendous and admirable attempt to build a world of meaning on the basis of an interpretation of reality in objective and rational terms. Greek philosophy had undercut the ancient mythological and ritual traditions. At the time of Socrates and the Sophists it became obvious that these traditions were not valid any more. Sophism is the revolution of the sub­jective mind against the old traditions. But life must go on; the meaning of life in all realms had yet to be probed, in politics, law, art, social relations, knowledge, religion, etc. This the Greek philosophers tried to do. They were not people sitting behind their desks writing philosophical books. If they had done nothing but philosophize about philosophy, we would have forgotten their names long ago. But they were people who took upon them­selves the task of creating a spiritual world by observing reality objectively as it was given to them, interpreting it in terms of analytic and synthetic reason.

1. Skepticism

This great attempt of the Greek philosophers to create a world of meaning broke down at the end of the ancient world and

4              A History of Christian Thought

produced what I call the skeptical end of the ancient development. Originally skepsis meant "observing" things. But it has received the negative sense of looking at every dogma, even the dogmata of the Greek schools of philosophy, and thereby undercutting them. The Skeptics were those who doubted the statements of all schools of philosophy. What is perhaps even more important is that these schools of philosophy, for example, the Platonic Academy, took a lot of these skeptical elements into themselves. Skepticism did not go beyond probabilism, while the other schools became pragmatic. Thus a skeptical mood entered all the schools and permeated the whole life of the later ancient world. This skepticism was a very serious matter of life. Again it was not a matter of sitting behind one's desk and finding out that every­thing can be doubted. That is comparatively easy. Rather, it was an inner breakdown of all convictions. The consequence was—and this was very characteristic of the Greek mind—that if they were no longer able to render theoretical judgments, they believed that they could not act practically either. Therefore, they introduced the doctrine of epoche, which meant "restrain­ing, keeping down, neither making a judgment nor acting, decid­ing neither theoretically nor practically." This doctrine of epoche meant the resignation of judgment in every respect. For this reason these people went into the desert with a suit or gown. The later Christian monks followed them in this respect, because they also were in despair over the possibility of living in this world. Some of the skeptics of the ancient church were very serious people, and drew the consequences which our snobbistic skeptics today are usually unwilling to do, who have a very good time while doubting everything. The Greek skeptics retired from life in order to be consistent.

This element of skepticism was an important preparation for Christianity. The Greek schools, the Epicureans, Stoics, Academ­ics, Peripatetics, Neo-Pythagoreans, were not only schools in the sense in which we today speak of philosophical schools, for example, the school of Dewey or Whitehead. A Greek philo­sophical school was also a cultic community; it was half-ritual and half-philosophical in character. These people wanted to live according to the doctrines of their masters. During this period when the skeptical mood permeated the ancient world, they wanted certainty above all; they demanded it in order to live.

The Preparation for Christianity   5

Their answer was that their great teachers, Plato or Aristotle, Zeno the Stoic or Epicurus, and at a later time, Plotinus, were not merely thinkers or professors, but they were inspired men. Long before Christianity the idea of inspiration was devel­oped in these Greek schools; the founders of these schools were inspired. When members of these schools later entered into discussion with Christians, they said, for example, that Heraditus, not Moses, was inspired. This doctrine of inspiration gave Christianity also a chance to enter into the world. Pure reason alone is not able to build up a reality in which one can live.

What was said about the character of the founders of these philosophical schools was very similar to what the Christians also said about the founder of their church. It is interesting that a man like Epicurus—who later was so much attacked by the Christians that only some of his fragments remain—was called soter by his pupils. This is the Greek word which the New Testament uses and which we translate as "savior". Epicurus the philosopher was called a savior. What does this mean? He is usually regarded as a man who always had a good time in his beautiful gardens and who taught an anti-Christian hedonistic philosophy. The ancient world thought quite differently about Epicurus. He was called soter because he did the greatest thing anyone could do for his followers: he liberated them from anxiety. Epicurus, with his materialistic system of atoms, liberated them from the fear of demons which permeated the whole life of the ancient world. This shows what a serious thing philosophy was at that time.

Another consequence of this skeptical mood was what the Stoics called apatheia (apathy), which means being without feelings toward the vital drives of life such as desires, joys, pains, and instead being beyond all these in the state of wisdom. They knew that only a few people could reach this state. Those who went into the desert as Skeptics showed that they were able to do so to a certain extent. Behind all this, of course, stands the earlier criticism of the mythological gods and the traditional rites. The criticism of mythology happened in Greece about the same time that Second Isaiah did it in Judea. It was a very similar kind of criticism and had the effect of undercutting the belief in the gods of polytheism.

6               A History of Christian Thought

2. The Platonic Tradition

We have dealt with the negative side in Greek thought at the time of the kairos. But there were also some positive elements. First we will take up the Platonic tradition. The idea of trans­cendence, that there is something that surpasses empirical reality, was prepared for Christian theology in the Platonic tradition. Plato spoke of essential reality, of 'ideas" (ousia) as the true essences of things. At the same time we find in Plato, and even stronger in later Platonism and Neo-Platonism, a trend toward the devaluation of existence. The material world has no ultimate value in comparison with the essential world. Also in Plato the inner aim of human existence is described—somewhere in the Philebus, but also practically everywhere in Plato—as becoming similar to God as much as possible. God is the spiritual sphere. The inner telos of human existence is participation in the spiritual, divine sphere as much as possible. This element in the Platonic tradition was used especially by the Cappadocian Fathers of the church to describe the ultimate aim of human existence.

A third doctrine besides the idea of transcendence and the telos of human existence described the soul as falling down from an eternal participation in the essential or spiritual world, being on earth in a body, then trying to get rid of its bondage to the body, and finally reaching an elevation above the material world. This happens in steps and degrees. This element was also taken into the church, not only by all Christian mystics, but also by the official church fathers to a great extent.

The fourth point in which the Platonic tradition was important was its idea of providence. This seems to us to be a Christian idea, but it was already formulated by Plato in his later writings. It was a tremendous attempt to overcome the anxiety of fate md death in the ancient world. In the late ancient world the anxiety of accident and necessity, or fate, as we would call it today, repre­sented by the Greek goddesses Tyche and Hairnarinene, was a very powerful thing. In Romans 8, where we have the greatest hymn of triumph in the New Testament, we hear that it is the function of Christ to overcome the demonic forces of fate. The fact that Plato anticipated this situation by his doctrine of providence is one of his greatest contributions. This providence, coming from

The Preparation for Christianity   7

the highest god, gives us the courage to escape the vicissitudes of fate.

A fifth element was added to the Platonic tradition which came from Aristotle. The divine is a form without matter, perfect in itself. This is the profoundest idea in Aristotle. This highest form, called "God", is moving the world, not causally by pushing it from the outside, but by driving everything finite toward him by means of love. In spite of his apparently scientific attitude to­ward reality, Aristotle developed one of the greatest systems of love. He said that God, the highest form, or pure actuality (actus purus), as he called it, moves everything by being loved by every­thing. Everything has the desire to unite itself with the highest form, to get rid of the lower forms in which it lives, where it is in the bondage of matter. Later the Aristotelian God, as the highest form, entered into Christian theology and exerted a tremendous influence upon it.

3. The Stoics

The Stoics were more important than Plato and Aristotle to­gether for the life of the late ancient world. The life of the edu­cated man in the ancient world at this time was shaped mostly by the Stoic tradition. In my book, The Courage to Be, I have dealt with the Stoic idea of the courage to take fate and death upon oneself. There I show that Christianity and the Stoics are the great competitors in the whole Western world. But here I want to show something else. Christianity took from its great competi­tor many fundamental ideas. The first is the doctrine of the Logos, a doctrine that may bring you to despair when you study the history of trinitarian and christologieal thought. The dogmatic development of Christianity cannot be understood without it.

Logos means "word". But it also refers to the meaning of a word, the reasonable structure which is indicated by a word. Therefore, Logos can also mean the universal law of reality. This is what Heraclitus meant by it, who was the first to use this word philosophically. The Logos for him was the law which determines the movements of all reality.

For the Stoics the Logos was the divine power which is present in everything that is. There are three aspects to it, all of which become extremely important in the later development. The first

8               A History of Christian Thought

is the law of nature. The Logos is the principle according to which all natural things move. It is the divine seed, the creative divine power, which makes anything what it is. And it is the creative power of movement of all things. Secondly, Logos means the moral law. With Immanuel Kant we could call this the "prac­tical reason", the law which is innate in every human being when he accepts himself as a personality, with the dignity and great­ness of a person. When we see the term "natural law" in classical books, we should not think of physical laws, but of moral laws. For example, when we speak of the "rights of man" as embodied in the American Constitution, we are speaking of natural law.

Thirdly, Logos also means man's ability to recognize reality; we could call it "theoretical reason". It is man's ability to reason. Because man has the Logos in himself, he can discover it in nature and history. From this it follows for Stoicism that the man who is determined by the natural law, the Logos, is the loikos, the wise man. But the Stoics were not optimists. They did not believe that everybody was a wise man. Perhaps there were only a few who ever reached this ideal. All the others were either fools or stood somewhere between the wise and the foolish. So Stoicism held a basic pessimism about the majority of human beings.

Originally the Stoics were Greeks; later they were Romans. Some of the most famous Stoics were Roman emperors, for example, Marcus Aurelius. They applied the concept of the Logos to the political situation for which they were responsible. The meaning of the natural law was that every man participates in reason by virtue of the fact that he is a human being. From this basis they derived laws far superior to many that we find in the Christian Middle Ages. They gave universal citizenship to every human being because everyone potentially participates in reason. Of course, they did not believe that people were actually reasonable, but they presupposed that through education they could become so. Granting Roman citizenship to all citizens of the conquered nations was a tremendous equalizing step. Women, slaves, and children, who were regarded as inferior beings under the old Roman law, became equalized by the laws of the Roman emperors. This was done not by Christianity but by the Stoics, who derived this idea from their belief in the universal Logos in which everyone participates. (Of course, Christianity holds the

The Preparation for Christianity   9

same idea on a different basis: all human beings are the children of God the Father.) Thus the Stoics conceived of the idea of a state embracing the whole world, based on the common ration­ality of everybody. This was something which Christianity could take up and develop. The difference was that the Stoics did not have the concept of sin. They had the concept of foolishness, but not sin. Therefore, salvation in Stoicism is a salvation through reaching wisdom. In Christianity salvation is brought about by divine grace. These two approaches are in conflict with each other to the present day.

4. Eclecticism

Eclecticism is another reality which was taken over by the Christian Church. This comes from a Greek word meaning to choose some possibilities out of many. Americans should not have contempt for this because in this respect as in so many others they are like the ancient Romans. The Eclectics were not creative philosophers like the Greeks. The Roman thinkers were often at the same time politicians and statesmen. As Eclectics they did not create new systems. Instead, they chose (Cicero, for example) the most important concepts from the classical Creek systems which they thought would be pragmatically useful for Roman citizens. From a pragmatic point of view they chose what would make possible the best way of living for a Roman citizen, as a citizen of the world state. The main ideas which they chose, which we find again in the eighteenth-century Enlighten­ment, were the following: the idea of providence, which provides a feeling of safety to the life of the people; the idea of God as innate in everybody, which induces fear of God and discipline; the idea of moral freedom and responsibility, which makes it possible to educate and to hold people accountable for moral failure; and finally the idea of immortality, which threatens with another world those who escape punishment in this one. All these ideas were in some way a preparation for the Christian mission.

D. THE INTER-TESTAMENTAL PERIOD

We come now to the Hellenistic period of the Jewish religion. In Judaism during the inter-testamental period there developed

10              A History of Christian Thought

ideas and attitudes which deeply influenced the apostolic age, that is, Jesus, the apostles, and the writers of the New Testament.

The development in the idea of God during this period be­tween the Testaments was toward a radical transcendence. God becomes more and more transcendent, and for this reason he becomes more and more universal. But a God who is both abso­lutely transcendent and absolutely universal has lost many of the concrete traits which the God of a nation has. For this reason names were introduced to preserve some of the concreteness of the divinity, names like "heaven". For example, in the New Testament we often find the term "kingdom of heaven" in place of "kingdom of God". At the same time, the abstraction is carried on under two influences: (1) the prohibition against using the name of God; (2) the struggle against anthropomorphisms, that is, seeing God in the image (morphè) of man (anthropos). Conse­quently the passions of the Cod of the Old Testament disappear and the abstract oneness is emphasized. This made it possible for the Greek philosophers, who had introduced the same radical abstraction with respect to God, and the Jewish universalists to unite on the idea of God. It was Philo of Alexandria, in particular, who carried through this union.

When God becomes abstract, however, it is not sufficient to hypostasize some of his qualities, such as heaven, height, glory, etc. Mediating beings must appear between God and man. Dur­ing the inter-testamental period these mediating beings became more and more important for practical piety. First, there were the angels, deteriorated gods and goddesses from surrounding paganism. During the period when the prophets fought against polytheism, they could not play any role. When the danger of polytheism was completely overcome, as it was in later Judaism, the angels could reappear without much danger of a relapse into it. Even so, however,-the New Testament is aware of this danger and warns against the cult of the angels.

The second type of figure was the Messiah. The Messiah be­came a transcendent being, the king of paradise. In the Book of Daniel, which is dependent on Persian religion, the Messiah is also called the "Son of Man" who will judge the world. In Daniel this term is probably used for Israel, but later it became the figure of the "man from above" as described by Paul in I Corinth­ians 15. Thirdly, the names of God are increased and become

The Preparation for Christianity   11

almost living figures. The most important of these figures is the Wisdom of God, which appears already in the Old Testament.

Wisdom created the world, appeared in it, and then returned to heaven since it did not find a place among men. This is very close to the idea in the Prologue of the Fourth Gospel.

Another of these powers between God and man is the shekinah, the dwelling of God on earth. Another is the memra', the Word

of God, which later became so important in the Fourth Gospel. Still another is the "Spirit of God", which in the Old Testament means God in action. Now, however, it became a partly inde­pendent figure between the most high God and man. The Logos became most important for it united the Jewish memra' with the Creek philosophical logos. Logos in Philo is the protogenës huios theou, the first-born Son of God. These mediating beings between the most high God and man to some extent replace the immediacy of the relationship to God. As in Christianity, particularly in Roman Catholic Christianity, the ever more transcendent idea of God was made acceptable to the popular mind by the introduc­tion of the saints into practical piety. The official doctrine re­mained monotheistic; the saints were to receive only veneration, never adoration.

Between man and God there arose also another world of beings having great power, namely, the realm of demons. There were evil as well as good angels. These evil angels are not only the agencies of temptation and punishment under Cod's direction, but they are also a realm of power in opposition to God. This comes out clearly in Jesus' conversation with the Pharisees con­cerning the divine or demonic power in connection with his exorcism of demons. This belief in demons permeated the daily life of that time and was also the subject of the highest specula­tions. Although there was an element of dualism here, it never reached the state of an ontological dualism. Here again Judaism was able to introduce a number of ideas from Persia, including the demonology of Persian religion in which the demons have the same status as the gods, but it never lapsed into an ontological dualism. All the demonic powers derive their power from the one God; they have no standing on their own in an ultimate sense. This comes out in the mythology of the fallen angels. The evil angels as created beings are good, but as fallen they are evil angels, and therefore they are responsible and punishable. They

12              A History of Christian Thought

are not simply creations of an anti-divine being. Here we have the first anti-pagan dogma.

Another influence from this period on the New Testament is the elevation of the future into a coming aeon. In the late apoca­lyptic period of Jewish history, world history was divided into two aeons, into this aeon in which we are living (aiôn houtos) and the coming aeon which is expected (aiOn mellon). This aeon is evaluated very pessimistically, while the coming aeon is awaited with ecstasy. The coming aeon is not only a political idea; it goes beyond the political hopes of the Maccabean period in which the Maccabees defended the Jewish people against tyranny. Nor was it a statement of the prophetic message; the prophetic message was much more historical and this-worldly. These apocalyptic ideas were cosmological; the whole cosmos participates in these two aeons. This aeon is controlled by demonic forces; the world, even nature itself, is ageing and fading away. One of the reasons for this is that man has subjected himself to the demonic forces and is disobedient aga Inst the law. Adam's fall has produced the universal destiny of cleath. This idea was developed from the brief story of the fall in Genesis into a system as we find it in Paul. This fall is confiriried by every individual through his actual sin. This aeon is under a tragic fate, but in spite of that the individual is responsible for it.

During this inter-testamental period the piety of the law gains in importance, in part replacing the piety of the cult. Of course, the temple still exists but the synagogue is developed alongside it as a religious schaol. The synagogue becomes the form in which the decisive religious life develops. The law was not evalu­ated in the negative way in which we usually do it; for the Jews it was a gift and a joy. The law was eternal, always in God and pre-existent in the same way that later Christian theology said that Jesus was pre-existent. The contents of the law provided for the organization of the whole of life, down to the smallest func­tions. Every moment of life was under God. This was the pro­found idea of the 1egilism of the Pharisees which Jesus attacked so vigorously. For this legalism produces an intolerable burden. There are always two possibilities in religion if an intolerable burden is placed on thought and action; the first is the way of compromise, which i the way of the majority. This means that the burden is reduce d to the point that it can be endured. The

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second is the way of despair, which was the way of people like Paul, Augustine, and Luther. In IV Esdras we read: "We who have received the law shall be lost because of our sins, but the law never will be lost." Here a mood is expressed which is re­flected in many Pauline sayings, a mood that permeated late Judaism during the period between the Testaments. Many of these ideas left their imprint on the New Testament.

E. THE MYSTERY RELIGIONS

The mystery religions were also influential on early Christian theology. These mystery religions should not be equated with

mysticism as such. Mysticism is something that we find in Philo, for example. He developed a doctrine of ecstasy, or ek-stasis, which means "standing outside oneself". This is the highest form of piety which lies beyond faith. This mysticism unites prophetic ecstasy with "enthusiasm", a word which comes from en-theos-mania, meaning to possess the divine. From this there comes finally the fully developed mystical system of the Neo-Platonists, for example, of Dionysius the Areopagite. In this mystical system the ecstasy of the individual person leads to a union with the One, with the Absolute, with God.

But besides this development of mysticism we have the even more important development of the concrete mystery gods. These mystery gods are in a sense monotheistic, that is, the person who is initiated into a given mystery has a concrete god who is, at the same time, the only god. However, it was possible to be initiated into more than one mystery. This means that the figures of the mystery gods were exchangeable. There is lacking here the exclu­siveness of Yahweh in the Old Testament.

These mystery gods greatly influenced the Christian cult and theology. If someone is initiated into a mystery, as later the Christians initiated their members into the congregations by steps, he participates in the mystery god and in the experiences of that deity. In Romans 6 Paul describes such experiences with respect to Jesus in terms of participation in his death and resur­rection. An ecstatic experience is produced in the mystery activi­ties. Those who participate are brought into a state of deep sorrow over the death of the god, and then after a time they have an ecstatic experience of the god resurrected. The suffering

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god is described in these mysteries. Ever since the Delphic Apollo we have the idea of the participation of God in the suffering of man. Apollo at Delphi had to pay for the guilt of slaying the powers of the underworld which have their own rights. Then there are the methods of introduction through psycho­logical means. Intoxication is brought about by a change of light and darkness, by ascetic fasting, by incense, sounds, music, etc.

These mysteries also had an esoteric character. Initiation could only follow upon a harsh process of selection and preparation. In this way the mystery of the performances was protected against profanation. Later in the Christian congregations a similar thing took place in order to protect against betrayal to the pagan persecutors.

F. THE METHOD OF THE NEW TESTAMENT

All of the elements we have discussed were a preparation for the rise of Christianity. The decisive preparation, however, was the event which is documented in the New Testament. Here we can­not present a New Testament theology, but we can show, by means of a few examples, how the New Testament received from the surrounding religions categories of interpretation and trans­formed them in the light of the reality of Jesus as the Christ. This means that there were always two steps, reception and trans­formation. The categories which had developed in the various religions, in the Old Testament, and in the inter-testamental period, were used to interpret the event of Jesus' appearance, but the meanings of these categories were transformed in being applied to him.

With respect to christology, for example, Messiah is the ancient prophetic symbol. This symbol was applied to Jesus by the early disciples, perhaps at the very beginning of their encounter with him. This was a great paradox. On the one hand, it was adequate because Jesus brings the new being; on the other hand, it was inadequate because many of the connotations of the term "Messiah" go beyond the actual appearance of Jesus. According to the records, Jesus himself realized the difficulty of this double judgment. Therefore, he prohibited his disciples to use this term. Now it may be that this is a later construction of the records;

The Preparation for Christianity  15

but however that may be, it does mirror the double judgment that this category is both adequate and inadequate.

The same thing is true of the "Son of Man" concept. On the one hand, it is adequate, and perhaps used by Jesus himself, for it points to the divine power present in him to bring the new aeon. On the other hand, it is inadequate because the Son of Man was supposed to appear in power and glory.

The term "Son of David" was also used. It is adequate since he was supposed to be the fulfiller of all the prophecies. Yet it is inadequate because David was a king, so "Son of David" can indicate a political leader and king. Jesus resisted this misunder­standing when he said that David himself called the Messiah his Lord.

The "Son of God" is an adequate term because of the special relationship and intimate communion between Jesus and God. At the same time it is inadequate because "Son of God" is a very familiar pagan concept. The pagan gods propagated sons on earth. Because of this the words "only begotten" were added and he was called "eternal". The Jews had difficulty with this term because of its pagan connotations. They could speak of Israel as "Son of God" but they could not apply it to an individual.

The title "kyrios" means Lord; it is adequate because of its use in the Old Testament where it is an expression of divine power. At the same time it is inadequate because the mystery gods were also kyrioi, lords, and, furthermore, Jesus was pictured concretely as a finite being. It was adequate because the mystery gods were objects of mystical union, and so was Jesus. For Paul especially, a person could be in Christ (en Christ5), that is, in the power, holiness, and fear of his being.

Finally, the concept "Logos" was adequate insofar as it ex­pressed the universal self-manifestation of God in all forms of reality. In Greek philosophy and Jewish symbolism it is the cosmic principle of creation. Yet it is inadequate because the Logos is a universal principle, whereas Jesus is a concrete reality. His is a concrete personal life described by this term. This is expressed in the great paradox of Christianity: the Logos became flesh. Here we have a perfect example of how the meaning of a term, with all the connotations it had from the past, can be transformed in expressing the Christian message. The idea that the universal Logos became flesh could never have been derived from the

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Greek thought. Therefore, the church fathers emphasized again and again that while the Greek philosophers possessed the idea of the universal Logos, what was peculiarly Christian was that the Logos became flesh in a personal life.

The greatness of the New Testament is that it was able to use words, concepts, and symbols which had developed in the history of religions and at the same time preserve the picture of Jesus who was interpreted by them. The spiritual power of the New Testament was great enough to take all these concepts into Christianity, with all their pagan and Jewish connotations, with­out losing the basic reality, namely, the event of Jesus as the Christ, which these concepts were supposed to interpret.