Saturday, May 8, 2010

Systematic Theology: Reflection

In the past, I have associated theology with judgmental “head-Christians” who used the study of doctrine to belittle their brothers and sisters. Growing up in a conservative, almost fundamentalist, background where grace seemed to be in short supply confused me. The word “theology” meant stuffy knowledge. It was something people seemed to hide behind in order to distance themselves from the LIVING God.

I had even read Rob Bell’s Velvet Elvis and about had an aneurism when he started talking about the trampoline and brick wall styles of theology. I had always been a brick wall. The mere idea of taking doctrines out and examining them for validity seemed totally blasphemous. Having never experienced anything but conservative thinking, I finally began reaching outward. Interestingly enough, instead of thinking through the theological implications of the things I heard other pastors say, I “left theology on the shelf” so to say, and just accepted everything as truth. I mean, of course I wouldn’t believe anyone preaching a false gospel, but I just kept adding bricks onto my theology wall without analyzing them for truth. Essentially, I was a baby, and I ate whatever was fed to me. The idea of questioning this food rarely occurred to me.

Finally, I came to Huntington and was surrounded by conversation. Debates on just war theory and pacifism intrigued me. Different schools of thought on issues I had never heard of before were discussed in the same conversation. I eavesdropping on another world… a world where there were options and challenges to think through belief. Even though I slowly became involved in these conversations and began thinking critically of the doctrinal beliefs surrounding me, the word “theology” still seemed heavy (both judgmental and removed from life).

Imagine my surprise upon entering the class to hear that true theology is more about living beliefs than sitting on them. Karl Barth truly humbled me. I love that he speaks of theology as something to wonder at. Not only the object of our study should astonish us, but so should our call to study Him at all. Who am I to seek the character of God? I used to think that by thinking through these doctrines, I would place limits on God. Somehow, working my salvation out with fear and trembling was more like not working out my salvation because I had fear and trembling.

We’ve been talking a lot about wonder and the impossible compulsion to “paint a bird in flight.” These concepts sing within me. This semester, I want to grow in this wonder. I want to remove the brick wall I’ve built to “protect me from false teaching” and question whether or not that concept in itself is false teaching. I guess I’m finally excited to jump on the trampoline and wonder.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Jonah 2: an exegetical study

Jonah’s Prayer: An Exegetical Study

Jonah, son of Amittai was born in Gath-Hepher, in the tribe of Zebulon (2 Kings 16:25). He was a prophet during the reign of Jeroboam II and foretold the success of his arms war with the Assyrians as well as the restoration of the kingdom’s ancient boundaries (Keil). The book that bears his name is set “during the reign of Jeroboam II, King of Israel who gave Israel some political stability. Spiritually, however, the kingdom was suffering” (textbook 453). Assyria, to which he was called by God, was a nation in decline. Having just experienced a famine and solar eclipse (an ominous sign) historically, it makes sense that they would be receptive to Jonah’s message (Alexander, Obadiah, Jonah, Mica). In the story, Jonah traverses the lands of Joppa (in Israel), Tarshish (near modern day Spain) and Nineveh (a large Assyrian city). He initially runs toward the earlier to escape God’s call, and after a storm during which he was thrown overboard and saved by a large fish, he finally travels to the later to respond to God’s call.

As for authorship and date, “the book was traditionally thought to have been composed by the eighth-century prophet whose name it bears… For those who consider the narrative to be biographical, the events took place in the first half of the eighty century B.C. and were written shortly after… (Allen, 152). On the other hand, “if it is pure fiction, its author could have used this prophet as a character because he wanted to make a point about divine compassion: God in showing mercy to the Ninevites, humbled this angry, super-patriotic prophet… Those who regard Jonah as postexilic fiction typically view the work as a counter to the nationalistic zeal of Ezra and Nehemiah” (Study Bible(1474)).

This controversy in authorship also leads to problems relating to the type of text. The book “resembles, in contents and form, the narratives concerning the prophets in the historical books of the OT, e.g. the history of Elijah and Elisha, rather than the writings of the Minor Prophets.” (Keil, 380). Because it is not an overt sermon or prophetic letter, the story has been viewed either as a historical narrative or a non-historical fable, or allegory.

There are several problems with a historical approach. The first relates to the improbability of Jonah’s survival inside of a fish and the repentance of the entire city of Nineveh. Sometimes, the text seems satirical because of potential exaggerations. In this way, the story has an entertaining quality not usually found in historical records. A symmetrical structure and didactic nature make the text appear more fictional. (Alexander: Obadiah, Jonah, Micah): In favor of a historical account, tradition holds it to be a true story. A historical introduction is found in within the book, and a historical Jonah is found in Scripture. Concerns about miraculous events within the narrative are removed when the rest of Scripture is studied. Yahweh is a God of miracles. Jesus Christ resurrected from death. It is not too big a task for God to sustain a man in a fish… or any circumstance for that matter. As for the genre of Chapter 2, “in the opinion of most scholars, the prayer, as it stands, is a good example of psalm-poetry, in which the poet drew upon the regular liturgical language common to the book of Pslams and other poems in the Old Testament in such a way as to fit this situation. It may be a psalm that had been composed at an earlier date, but had not been incorporated in the collection of psalms that we now have. In support of this latter view about the age of the prayer is the fact that its language reflects an early period in Hebrew literature, unlike much of the prose material in the rest of the book” (Clark, handbook). The prayer’s structure follows an acknowledgement of distress (2:2-4), an expression of need (2:5-7), and praise for deliverance (2:8-9).

With the previous in mind, verse-by-verse analysis is now appropriate. “Then Jonah prayed to the LORD his God from the stomach of the fish” (Jonah 2:1). “The reader naturally expects this prayer to be a frantic appeal for help, but to his amazement he finds that it is a prayer of thanksgiving… The nature of the prayer has been explained in various ways: (1) It is a prayer spoken by Jonah after he was vomited out by the fish, in which case it should properly come after verse 10. (2) It is a psalm of thanksgiving uttered in the fish’s belly when Jonah suddenly discovers that he is safe from the raging sea. He expresses thanksgiving for full deliverance even before it comes, because his faith assures him it will come. (3) it is a psalm inserted at this point in the story by a later writer who saw its resemblance to the experience of Jonah. For some time most twentieth century scholarship has been inclined toward this view” (pickard). The verse seems to speak for itself, whether added initially or later, the prayer was prayed “from the stomach of the fish” (Jonah 2:1).

The second verse finishes the thought the first started. “…and he said, ‘I called out of my distress to the LORD,
And He answered me I cried for help from the depth of Sheol; You heard my voice” (Jonah 2:2). Jonah almost drowned, but God in his mercy saved him with a fish. God did not forget Jonah. It’s verses like these in his prayer that reflect parallels with the book of Pslams. This verses specifically seems to draw from Psalm 18:4-6. A concept often mentioned in both is “Sheol.” “The word occurs often in the Psalms and the book of Job to refer to the place to which all dead people go. It is represented as a dark place, in which there is no activity worthy of name.” (Clark, Handbook). It is often called the “pit.” It is significant that Jonah connects being thrown out to the stormy sea with Sheol because he acknowledges real danger of death and his inability to save himself.

Moving into the third verse, he says "For You had cast me into the deep, Into the heart of the seas, And the current engulfed me All Your breakers and billows passed over me” (Jonah 2:3). “He calls them God’s billows and his waves, not because he made and rules them, but because he had now commissioned them against Jonah, and ordered them to afflict and terrify, but not to destroy him. These words are plainly quoted from Ps 42:7. What David spoke figuratively and metaphorically, Jonah applies to himself as literally fulfilled” (M. Henry). Although thankful for rescue, Jonah also realizes that his distress was initially ordained by God as a cleansing, humbling experience. Connecting this verse with the previous is a Hebrew poetic device. One of the chief characteristics of Hebrew poetry is this use of parallelism. Being swallowed up in the “heart of the seas” is equivalent to being in the “belly of sheol.” It is the same phrase from Psalm 42:7.

In the fourth verse, Jonah affirms his trust in God’s deliverance, no matter what the cause of his distress. "So I said, 'I have been expelled from Your sight Nevertheless I will look again toward Your holy temple' (Jonah 2:4). “The greater part of expounders render the clause thus ‘But I shall see the temple of thy holiness;” as though Jonah here reproved his own distrust, which he had just expressed, as the case is with the faithful, who immediately check themselves, when they are tempted to entertain any doubt” (Calvin, 79). From the time of Josiah (621 BC), worship was centralized in the temple at Jerusalem (pickard). Turning his eyes to the temple was similar to saying that even in his greatest distress, God is always worthy of worship. Instead of looking only to his pain, he looks to what is better.

Verse five expresses “what dreadful temptations presented themselves to him while he was endeavoring to offer up prayers. It came first to his mind that God was his most inveterate enemy” (Calvin, 78). "Water encompassed me to the point of death The great deep engulfed me,
Weeds were wrapped around my head” (Jonah 2:5). There should have been no escape from death. It was an impossibility that Jonah would survive. Still, God is a God of miracles.

"I descended to the roots of the mountains The earth with its bars was around me forever,
But You have brought up my life from the pit, O LORD my God” (Jonah 2:6).

Doctrine: Angels and Demons

Angels and Demons

Discussion regarding angels and demons within the Christian community ranges from denial to obsession. The “excluded middle” grows more taboo as culture becomes more “civilized.” All the while, Hollywood exorcisms and guardian angels portrayed in media mythologize actual Biblical characters. Scripture separates angels into two categories: the author of Hebrews who defines angels as “ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation,” mentions the first. The Greek word for “angel” in the New Testament is γγελος, which could also be translated as “messenger from God.” The second category contains those messengers/ministers who have rejected service to God. Tradition holds these fallen angels to be the same demons mentioned in the New Testament in passages like Mark 5:1-20. The term most often used to describe these spirits is δαιμόνιον, which means “messenger or minister of evil.”

Concerning the essence of these spirits, St. Thomas Aquinas attributes pure intellect without flesh or physical form as their substance. He discusses the difference between human interaction and angelic communication in his Summa Theologica. A man’s inner thoughts are doubly barricaded off from others: by his own will to keep the thought in rather than make it public (and only God can see through that barricade), and by his body’s opaqueness which requires him to use outwardly perceptible signs…but angels have only the first barricade, and as soon as one of them wants to make known his thoughts, they are made known.[1] According to Aquinas, “an angel guard is appointed for each man as long as he is a wayfarer,” and demons oppose humans as tempters and testers.[2]

Despite his Baptist/Calvinist filter, Wayne Grudem’s perspective on angelic substance is similar to Aquinas’ Catholic outlook. He says “angels are created, spiritual beings with moral judgment and high intelligence, but without physical bodies.”[3] However, Grudem disagrees with the concept of individual assigned guardian angels while acknowledging their general protective role. He interprets passages like Matthew 18:10 as referencing many angels ministering to children in general. As a response to Acts 12:15, he believes that instead of Paul’s individual guardian angel, a specific angel was appointed to him for that specific tumultuous period in Paul’s life. Where Aquinas began discussing the goal of demons, Grudem elaborates on their tactics. He says demons lie, murder, deceive, tempt, scare, confuse, and slander. Still, he emphatically states, because of Biblical encouragement,[4] that Christians shouldn’t bend to demonic tactics.

More than Aquinas and Grudem, Stanley J. Grenz focuses on the angelic and demonic roles in the unfolding drama of salvation. He defines angels and demons by commission over substance. “They are divided into opposing heavenly forces- good angels and evil demons- who engage in cosmic battle.”[5] These forces conflict because God rules over all of his created beings, and when they “fail to fulfill their design, these beings participate in sin.”[6] The entire salvation story culminates in God’s reconciliation of the world to his purposes. For this reason, Jesus Christ assures victory over all dissent to God’s plan. He was victorious over death, the ultimate goal of evil. He inspires Christians to conquer evil like him in this present age by his Spirit, and he will triumph over all demonic forces on the Day of Judgment that is yet to come. In this epic, Grenz places his understanding of angels and demons.

Angels and demons are a reality within Scripture. They are liaisons between the heavenly and the earthly worlds. Good angels bring messages of God’s plan, while evil demons distort and oppose that plan. Because demons rebelled, they are nothing more than created beings running amok (even if they are powerful in comparison to humans) as their creator and his loyal angels lead the world to wholeness.

Having a greater understanding of these majorly important, but flippantly discussed beings leads Christians to an awareness of the supernatural conflict around them. Undue fear of the demonic only feeds their sins of pride while placing the individual vulnerable for deception. Obsession may have the same pride enflaming effect. Balance is necessary when dealing with unseen spirits. God is above everything he has created, and no being deserves more recognition or fear than him. Christians align themselves with the Creator and may call on him to protect them. Jesus encourages his disciples with the correct perspective when he says, “do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”[7]

The works of these theologians compliment each other beautifully. Contemplating these powerful spirits leads to a wonder at their creator. Who is this God that creates such majestic beings? And who are humans to be called into relationship with him?



[1] Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica (Sophia Institute Press, 2001), 157.

[2] Aquinas,158.

[3] Wayne Grudem, Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 1995), 397

[4] 2 Cor. 10:4

[5] Stanley J Grenz, Theology for the Community of God. (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2000), 221

[6] Grenz, 224

[7] Lk.10:20

Doctrine: Imago Dei

The Divine Image

The human heart holds no question so close as, “Who am I?” Scripture responds even before the birth of Adam. Genesis 1:26-28 affirms God made humanity in his image (Imago Dei). There are two words used in the original Hebrew to describe “image.” The first is dĕmuwth. Dĕmuwth is an adverb meaning “in the likeness of.” It describes similitude. More scholars focus on the word tselem, which is a masculine noun meaning “image, likeness, or resemblance.” It derives its origins from an unused root word meaning “to shade.” After Adam’s fall, sin tainted humanity. Something in its essential nature turned away from the creator whose image it bears (Romans 1:18-32). Jesus Christ, as fully God and fully human, perfectly illustrates the true image of God without the effects of sin and provides us the opportunity to be made whole again (Colossians 1: 15-20).

Thomas Aquinas concerns himself with the degree of similitude between Creator and creation. “The original in this case being infinitely distant from the image.”[1] He continues to clarify exactly how he views humankind reflects the divine. “Things in general resemble God in existing, some things also in being alive, and some finally in intellectual discernment: the closest likeness to God in creation. Properly speaking then, only creatures with intellect are made to God’s image. And the point at which such creatures most closely resemble God is when they imitate his self-understanding and love. So there are levels to the imaging of God by man: the very nature of mind gives to all men a natural aptitude for understanding and loving God; grace adds to some men an actual if imperfect understanding of love and God; and the glory of heaven brings this to perfection.”[2] Principally, Aquinas views humanity as the reflection of God here on earth in the sense that because humans are rational, they can conceive (at least in part) of love. “A first image of the Trinity in our minds is found in our activities of thinking out and formulating an inner word from the information we have, and then bursting out from this in a love.”[3]

Rather than focus on a specific trait or list of traits that define humanity as the image bearer of God, Wayne Grudem simply relies on Scriptures proclamation that it is. “Such an explanation is unnecessary, not only because the terms had clear meanings, but also because no such list could do justice to the subject: the text needs only to affirm that man is like God, and the rest of Scripture fills in more details to explain this.”[4] Grudem concentrates on seeking to better understand God, the giver of the divine image. He affirms that “man is still in God’s image… however, since man has sinned, he is certainly not as fully like God as he was before… After the fall, then, we are still in God’s image, we are still like God, and we still represent God- but the image of God in us is distorted; we are less fully like God than we were before the entrance of sin.”[5] In this way, Grudem builds his understanding of Imago Dei on Christology and Eschatology. According to this view, the divine image is progressively recovered and will reach complete restoration at Christ’s return. [6]

Stanly Grenz echoes Grudems eschatological focus. “Although it may be multifaceted in its connotations, at the heart of the divine image (or the synonymous term, ‘the divine likeness’) is a reference to our human destiny as designed by God. We are the image of God insofar as we have received, are now fulfilling, and one day will fully actualize a divine design. And this design-God’s intent for us- is that we mirror for the sake of creation the nature of the Creator.”[7] He elaborates on the divine image as a special standing, a special fellowship, and a special community. Humanity serves as God’s earthly representative, and since the Christ event, God imputes righteousness to those who are saved (special standing). “Our divinely given destiny begins with a special standing before God, but it focuses on fellowship with God.”[8] This unity with Christ is what Grenz calls “special fellowship.” Finally, he clarifies that the divine image is a corporate reality, or special community, in which God’s creation mirrors the self- giving love of the Trinity.

With all of these views in mind, the divine image may be understood as something both inherent and progressive. God creates everyone with inherent worth, need for community, and eschatological potential. Jesus Christ died for all humankind. He didn’t differentiate between gender, race, or socio-economic status. He spent time with oppressors and the lowest of the low. Sin invades everyone’s body. All are equal.[9] All are called to community and unity. Individually, humans are called to love God and love their neighbor. Corporately, they have the same call. The image of God is most fully realized when his creation mirrors the self-giving love that encompasses his Trinitarian essence.

Practically, a person’s view of the divine image directs the way that they love others. If they view love as the ultimate reflection of God’s likeness, then above all, they desire unity with God and others. Words of encouragement overflow out of a heart full of the Holy Spirit. Gossip, curses, and dividing speech become unthinkable. Violence is forgotten and deemed useless. Forgiveness and reconciliation move hearts to peace. Believers take care of the homeless, orphans, and widows. They read the Bible and seek their greatest love in prayer. No one is deemed too different to be loved. The divine image joins all of humanity. “From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.”[10]



[1] Aquinas (144)

[2] Aquinas 144

[3] Aquinas 145

[4] Grudem (443)

[5] Grudem 444

[6] Grudem 445

[7] Grenz 177

[8] Grenz 177

[9] Galatians 3:28

[10] Ephesians 4:16

Doctrine: Providence

Providence

The Bible speaks of God’s providence both through specific Scriptures and in the nature of its prophetic books. More than simply wisdom, providence implies God’s power to sustain and govern his creation outside of time (Romans 8:28, Matthew 6:25-30). The New International Version specifically references the word providence in Job 10:12. The Hebrew words that explain this concept are pĕquddah and shamar. The first denotes the oversight and care of one who has custody over another. It also has connotations of visitation, and because of that, Pĕquddah addresses the fact that although God is wholly other, he is still present in the world he created. The second word, shamar, means to keep, guard, and watch. It implies that God’s providence has a protective and governing quality. Ephesians 1:9-12 describes God’s ultimate providential purpose of reconciliation.

Thomas Aquinas speaks of God’s providence in the sense that God is the first cause of all things. Necessarily, God must be the initial cause of all things because all actions have causes, and not every cause can have a cause. If they did, there would be an infinite number of causes, but that’s illogical.[1] “Nothing needs planning in God himself, the ultimate goal of all, but his planning of the universe is called his providence. This planning or providence is eternal, though its implementation and management takes place in time… But God is the cause of our very acts of free choice, and man’s prudence is contained within God’s providence as a particular cause subject to a universal one.”[2] With this in mind, Aquinas addresses a more poignant question: how does God enact his plan, and how is humanity involved? “He implements his plan and manages the world through intermediaries, not because he lacks power in himself, but because in his abundant goodness he wants to share the dignity of cause with creatures… he plans infallible causes for events that must occur, and fallible causes for events that may or may not occur.”[3] In summary, Aquinas views God’s causal activity and Humanity’s causal activity as non-competitive.

Wayne Grudem has a similar perspective. His view “holds that absolute divine sovereignty is compatible with human significance and real human choices.”[4] Defining the kind of “freedom” given to humanity is Grudem’s main focus. “Scripture nowhere says that we are “free” in the sense of being outside of God’s control or being able to make decisions that are not caused y anything. Nor does it say we are “free” in the sense of being able to do right on our own apart from God’s power. But we are nonetheless free in the greatest sense that any creature of God could be free- we make willing choices, choices that have real effects. We are aware of no restraints on our will from God when we make decisions… An absolute ‘freedom,’ totally free of God’s control, is simply not possible in a world providentially sustained and directed by God himself.”[5] In this way, human causal activity is compatible with divine planning only in the sense that things happen after humans act, and they are unaware of otherwise.

More than Aquinas or Gurdem, Stanley Grenz speaks of God’s providence in the light of God’s purpose. “We confess that God provides the only ultimate meaning of creation. In so doing, he prevents the universe and its history from slipping into meaninglessness…orders all history toward the completion of that purpose.”[6] Divine preservation, concurrence, and government should be spoken of with perfect eschatological community in mind. “As those who confess faith in the triune God, we can be a people of hope. Hope is possible, for God will bring his purposes to pass and is using even the evils of life in the process. This is the message of the doctrine of providence.”[7] Grenz uses the language of trust and hope to move intellectual study of providence toward response. When we align with God’s plan, he “invites us to participate with him in the completion of his program for the world. Specifically, he calls us to pay and to work… Thereby we enter into community with him and with other believers who have likewise responded to his invitation.”[8]

The problem with a combative view of free-will and God’s absolute providence is the danger of ascribing to a view that either minimizes human responsibility or ignores God’s omnipotence and omniscience. A non-competitive view poses an equally mysterious but less problematic option. Somehow, both God and humankind plan and act in a harmonious way that allows a unified agency. God is sovereign over all, but he partners with his creation. He grants humanity the dignity of freely agreeing with him. In a mysterious way, the divine and lowly synchronize.

Consequently, when the believer prays, they align their will with God’s. Prayer becomes an act of partnership and humility. A correct view of providence directs the Christ follower to trust that God is working all things together for the good of those who love him,[9] and to hope in the future that he has promised. When evil manifests, the believer may conclude that Christ was and is victorious. Finally, all of creation looks forward to the day that everything submits to the careful planning of God. One day, all things will be healed. Trust will be rewarded, hope fulfilled, and evil destroyed. Believers continually seek to align themselves with this vision.



[1] Aquinas 56

[2] Aquinas 56

[3] Aquinas 57

[4] Grudem 316

[5] Grudem 331

[6] Grenz 120

[7] Grenz 123

[8] Grenz 122

[9] Romans 8:28

Doctrine: Love

God’s Love

As for divine attributes, Scripture practically screams of God’s love and compassion. The “God is love”[1] passage might be the most famous. Even non-Christians seem to know that “God is love.” John 3:16, “For God so loved the world…” is the most widely known and translated verse in the entire Bible. Christians wear crosses to remind them to live in an honoring way in light of the sacrificial love shown by Christ (Galatians 2:10). This eternal attribute cannot be separated from God’s nature, and because of it, Christians cannot be separated from him (Romans 8:38-39). There are several worlds used to describe God’s love. Checed may be found in the Old Testament referring to God’s loving kindness and faithfulness. Agapaō is a Greek word that the New Testament authors frequently use in relationship with God’s sacrificial love for humanity.

Thomas Aquinas speaks of love in general as the basis for any tendency.[2] He explains the difference of human love and godly love by clarifying animalistic desire (passions) from God’s movements of will (acts). “Clearly then God loves all things, willing them every good they possess; yet not as we do. Our love doesn’t cause a thing’s goodness; rather the thing’s goodness, real or imagined, evokes our love, and enlists our help in preserving and furthering that goodness. But God’s love evokes and creates the goodness in things.”[3] In this way, Aquinas explains God’s love as his good actions towards his creation. Moreover, he speaks of it as a seeking of unity and community although he is complete in himself.[4] “The lover in loving the good of the beloved and planning and working for it as though the beloved was himself, is transported out of himself into the beloved…”[5] The concept is that by acting in love, God seeks unity with that which he created (as exemplified by the incarnation). According to Aquinas, God’s love is the culmination of his essence and his actions.

Where Aquinas explains philosophically, Wayne Grudem takes a different approach while maintaining God’s love as an action. He explains “God’s love means that God eternally gives of himself to others.”[6] Rather than explain the essence of what God’s love is, he focuses on what it does. He likens God’s love for humanity to God’s internal love encompassed within the Trinity. Each person of the Trinity gives and loves the other. “It should cause us great joy to know that it is the purpose of God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit to give of themselves to us to bring us true joy and happiness. It is God’s nature to act that way toward those upon whom he has set his love, and he will continue to act that way toward us for all eternity.”[7] Basically, Grudem says that God’s love is his purpose lived out.

Finally, Stanley Grenz provides a link from Aquinas’s explanation of God’s loving essence and Grudem’s active examples of it. Grenz proposes that God takes action in love because the suffering of his creation moves him. “The Bible indicates that compassion characterizes God’s response to the human predicament. Because of the divine love, the plight of God’s creatures evokes his compassion.”[8] He often speaks theologically through “the drama of redemption,” and this topic is no different. “God’s loving compassion finds concrete expression in Jesus of Nazarethe, for compassion lay at the heat of our Lord’s understanding of his mission.”[9] In summary, God’s love is the motivating force behind his ultimate role in reconciling all things to himself.

With these perspectives in mind. God’s love is the lavish, extravagant, unimaginable, great, underserved, manifestation of his character. Everything in his ontological nature may be encompassed by the word “love.” Too often people define God by their perception of earthly love instead of defining love by God’s character. God is protective, graceful, merciful, and he is altogether holy. This is true love. 1 Corinthians 13 puts it this way, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”[10]

As Christians seeking to be made into Christ-likeness, love must also be our defining characteristic. It must be the first foundation for every tendency (Aquinas), the self-giving purpose of every action (Grudem) and the total culmination of our life drama (Grenz). The Bible speaks of specific ways that Christ followers should live out love. Christians should love their enemies by not retaliating under persecution and praying for them.[11] Christians should look after the orphan and widow.[12] Christians should use their gifts to edify the body of believers.[13] Most importantly of all, Jesus says “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."[14] Directing the life of the Christ follower is the God of love. They no longer live for themselves, but for their God and their neighbor. This is love.



[1] 1 John 4:7-8

[2] Aquinas53

[3] Aquinas54

[4] Aquinas54

[5] Aquinas54

[6] Grudem199

[7] Grudem199

[8] Grenz94

[9] Grenz95

[10] 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

[11] Matthew 5:44

[12] James 1:27

[13] 1 Corinthians 14:12

[14] Matthew 22:37-40

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The Divine Image, A Theological Film Analysis

Part I: Thick Description of Text

Well. It sure isn’t a romantic comedy. No light humor accompanies The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. Perhaps the only high-spirited scene in the entire film is that of the opening credits, but even the joy of watching three small boys run around playfully is tainted by the setting of Berlin during the rule of Hitler and realization that they naively pretend to be Nazi combat aircraft. Maybe that is the whole point of the film. Childlike innocence shines like a hurricane lantern in a dark room, and those who crush its casing are inflicting pain not only on the source of light, but everyone in the room. "Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows," proclaim white words on a black screen quoting the British poet John Betjeman. This is how the story of Bruno begins… this is how the story of Bruno ends.

Reading this cultural text from foreboding beginning to tragic end, cannot be an isolated endeavor. There are entire “worlds of meaning” as Kevin J. Vanhoozer talks about in “What is Everyday Theology: How and why Christians Should read Culture.” There is a world behind the text full of artists and history. Although it is a fable, the film inhabits a real time and place. By 1940 Nazi’s had already established Jewish concentration camps, and by 1942, they had begun to implement Hitler’s “Final solution.”[1] Genocide was reality. Bruno’s world exists because real people in real history acted in evil ways.

John Boyne first told this fictional story in his award winning children’s book of 2006. Mark Herman, who both wrote and directed the film, adapted it. Boyne, Herman, and David Heyman (producer) worked closely together on this project. They agreed to explore the dark heart of the Nazi era in the effort to enlighten new generations so that they neither forget nor repeat what happened.[2] Herman elaborated: “Whilst it is a Holocaust story set in the 1940’s Germany, for me, it’s timeless. With all the conflicts going on today, whether in Rwanda, Somalia, Palestine, Israel, Darfur, Zimbabwe, or Iraq, this story seems to me to be as relevant today as at any time in history... That children have the potential and the ability to overcome differences in culture and identity; that governments, institutions and the media can and do cultivate conflict and distrust- these are timely ideas with universal relevance and I think this story makes them accessible to anyone.”[3] Hayman was even more specific about his perspectives on the film’s message. He said, “This is the story of an ordinary family. Ordinary people who through ignorance, innocence or unquestioning obedience to authority – no matter how appalling the demands of that authority – recognizably embody Hannah Arendt’s ‘banality of evil.’”

The film’s producer references a concept described in Arendt’s book Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. “[Arendt] insisted that only good had any depth. Good can be radical; evil can never be radical, it can only be extreme, for it possesses neither depth nor any demonic dimension yet — and this is its horror! — it can spread like a fungus over the surface of the earth and lay waste the entire world. Evil comes from a failure to think. It defies thought for as soon as thought tries to engage itself with evil and examine the premises and principles from which it originates, it is frustrated because it finds nothing there. That is the banality of evil.[4] The makers of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas recognize this as a defining view driving the film’s message.

In summary, the world behind the text is one in which its creators voice concern about the present repetition of previous atrocities, the potential of governments and institutions to corrupt, and a perceived human tendency to unthinkingly follow authority (The Banality of Evil).

With that foundation, it is now appropriate to study the world of the text. This dimension of film analysis seeks to understand what the text is saying and how it is saying it. In this Holocaust drama set in Germany, the creators demonstrate their values and concerns through juxtaposition. Riddled with cruelty and dehumanization, Nazi propaganda takes center stage in nearly every scene. In contrast, Pavel and Shmuel show grace and forgiveness. Through the eyes of Bruno’s discovery and exploration, the filmmakers reveal these values. On a general level, the text expresses concern for the sanctity of all human life.

Bruno’s story begins without worry or care. He is proud of his father, thriving socially with friends, and happy in his home. Freedom and innocence initially characterize the film’s tone. As the story progresses, Bruno is moved away from his friends, restrained to his house and front yard, and forced to listen to a tutor who pushes Nazi propaganda. His caged feeling is illustrated in a scene where he is seen sitting behind the bars of the staircase as if in jail. Adventure books, which he also uses to escape, are looked down upon. Even more confusing is that his sister Gretel ignores him, throws away all of her dolls, and becomes obsessed with Nazi literature. She looks just like the Nazi aviator from the poster hanging on her wall.

From the window in his room, Bruno sees what he believes to be a farm with lot of people in striped pajamas. He has no idea that it is a death camp run by his father. When he asks about the “farmers,” he is told that they are Jews and not real people. Juxtaposed with this answer is Pavel, a sorrowful, silent, shuffling man from the camp sent to care for the garden. When Bruno falls from a tree swing, Pavel gracefully bandages him and tells him that he used to be a doctor. No one ever uses Pavel’s name except Bruno. In this exchange, the filmmakers acknowledge, through the eyes of a child, Pavel’s humanity and goodness.

Finally, Bruno sneaks out of the compound through a shed window in an effort to break away from the cold lighting and hard edges that characterize his Nazi home. He runs in liberty. He zooms through trees. Joyous, upbeat music swells. The artistry is a stark contrast to the oppressive world he runs from. Upon reaching the camp, he meets Shmuel. Separated by a fence, the boys become friends. Daily, Bruno sneaks out of his home to play with Shmuel next to death. Shmuel is innocent and forgiving. The film’s creators express his humanity in these exchanges with Bruno. There seems to be no reason for the Nazi hatred and cruelty towards him. Everyone in the camp has numbers tattooed on their arms and are not called by their names. They all look the same with shaved heads and uniforms. They have been dehumanized so that they can be exterminated without guilt.

Bruno’s mother finds out that instead of an internment camp, her husband runs a death camp and is overwhelmed with horror. Her reaction mirrors that of the filmmakers. So does Bruno when he kicks away the book his tutor gave him. Bruno knows that his father and the Nazi’s claim the Jewish people to be inhuman… even evil. He tells Shmuel that they are supposed to be enemies, but instead of aligning with that concept, he decides to crawl into the camp to help his friend find his father.

Unknowingly, the children march to a gas chamber and are killed. The last shot of the two children is one that depicts them holding hands, confused and terrified. The message of the film hinges on this moment. Bruno recognizes Shmuel as his friend. Shmuel is as much of a person as Bruno.

The film ends with chance for repentance. Ralph agonizingly screams his dead son’s name in realization of what has happened. The question is whether he also screams for all of the people in the room. It is the film’s invitation to the viewer.

This leads finally to the world in front of the text. The film’s message is clear, but what sort of person does the viewer become if they accept it? If the message is lived out, the carrier of the message must recognize the humanity of all people. More than just not doing something to harm the innocent, they must embrace others as friends. Both word and deed bear the message. Innocence, exploration, freedom are highly valued while cruelty, stagnation, and isolation are abhorred. The person who adopts this world of meaning is concerned about the lives of others and is outwardly oriented. Rather than an island of independence, they care about community. As for how they view themselves, humility drives self-understanding. Just as Bruno did not consider himself above Shmuel, whoever accepts that message must abandon pride and ethnocentrism.

Part II: Theological Interpretation of the Text

What it means to be a human, made in the image of God is a vital Christian doctrine. It affirms that every person is of equal worth and is not only known by God but also called by him. This is self evident in Scripture (Galatians 3:26-29, Ephesians 1:4-10). Stanly Grenz addresses the exact nature of the divine image as a special standing, and special community, pointing towards an eschatological reality.[5]

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas obviously rejects the Nazi view of the human person. The rest of this paper will compare and contrast the film’s message with that of Christian Doctrine. “As humans created in the divine image, we are the recipients of Gods love. This means that each of us has special worth in God’s sight. We are also the recipients of God’s commands, which entails a special responsibility… God has entrusted to us a special task with reference to creation, namely, that we serve as his representatives. We are to reflect to creation the nature of God.”[6] Rather than showing created beings the love and grace that characterize God, Ralph is cold and unmoved. He does not live up to this responsibility. The filmmakers contrast his actions with the grace of Pavel and Shmuel. First, Pavel bandages Bruno’s knee despite association with the people who imprisoned him. Second, Shmuel forgives Bruno after he told a lie that resulted in Shmuel being beaten. These instances speak of the divine image appropriated… life in its truest sense. Despite oppressive conditions, the filmmakers weave sunshine into the scenes with Pavel and Shmuel. Under persecution, they retain their innocence. It is not so with Ralph. Rarely is he seen out of his stuffy dark uniform and geometric office. Something about his live is not being fulfilled. The Christian watching the movie cries out to him, “Wake up, O Sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you!”[7]

Moreover, the film expresses a rejection of self-sufficiency and isolation that parallels Grenz idea of special community. He says, “The divine image is a shared, corporate reality. It is fully present only in community… Only in fellowship with others can we show forth what God is like, for God is the community of love- the eternal relationship enjoyed by the Father and the Son, which is the Holy Spirit.”[8] The film’s plot gains significance when Bruno leaves his home to find a friend “on the farm.” His loneliness is practically tangible until he meets Shmuel. Joining his friend in his death is the ultimate expression of love. Although they are confused and unknowing, community is proved in their simple holding of hands. Even in the gas chamber, the filmmakers imply that these children are more alive than their murderers.

Ralph has seemingly no love for others, even as his wife weeps, his face is hard. Nazism doesn’t seek unity with others but sees diversity as a problem deserving the “Final Solution.” “The eye cannot say to the hand, "I don't need you!" And the head cannot say to the feet, "I don't need you!" On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has combined the members of the body and has given greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.”[9] If the divine image is only fully realized in community, then disunity with others is a severe violation of spiritual reality. The Christian is not only called to acknowledge his or her need for community, but to seek unity with everyone (even enemies). When Bruno tells Shmuel that they are “supposed to be enemies” but continues to play with him, the filmmakers lend description to this Biblical concept.

Finally, the divine image as an eschatological reality may be further clarified as the “universal potential to actualize or live out the goal God intends for our existence.” Grenz goes on: “Although in the sense we may declare that all persons are in the image of God, it is in Christ that the divine image is fully revealed… Transformation into the image of God is a process which we experience beginning with conversion and lasting until the great eschatological renewal which will bring us into full conformity with the image of God.”[10] This dynamic view of journey to completion is hinted at in Bruno’s craving for discovery. His desire for exploration indicates a longing to learn and transform. He is constantly changing. During these moments music swells as if the filmmakers are egging on his curiosity.

The film’s overt juxtaposition seems to demonize Nazis and glorify those opposing them. Sometimes it even seems like the creators imply that because of their action, the Nazi’s have lost their humanity. As the plot progresses, Ralph becomes harder and more distant. His wife calls him a monster that even his mother cannot love. When Pavel is being beaten just outside the room where is family is eating dinner, Elsa begs him to stop the violence. As she sobs his name it is as if she implores him to be human. He does not respond. Shmuel and Pavel respond to their names even if the Nazis have tried to take them away. Moreover, the filmmakers never allow the viewer to see any sort of guilt on their part. For the purposes of the film, they are completely innocent.

Still, Scripture tells us that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.[11] And as stated previously, all are equal in God’s eyes. If everyone is created by God with inherent worth, need for community and eschatological potential, then a message in which people who do evil (aka: the Nazis) are somehow not human contradicts reality. All are human. The good news of the gospel is that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”[12]

Part III: The Voice Behind the Analysis

I, Rachel Skye Berger, consciously choose to honor God through loving his children… all of them. He died not only for the oppressed, but for those who oppressed them. Sin invades everyone’s body. “As it is written: ‘There is no one righteous, not even one.’”[13] The message of the film I appropriate on the basis of redemption. Ralph has a chance. The last sense gives hope. A second chance is given even if it is not received. If I reject the film’s message, then I also reject Scripture. Picking and choosing who has worth can never be a human task. “There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy. But you—who are you to judge your neighbor?”[14] I am called to community and unity. The good news is that God in his glory will reconcile all of humanity and all of creation to himself.

Come Lord Jesus. God, make us one as you are one.


[1] "Holocaust Timeline." The History Place. http://www.historyplace.com/worldwar2/holocaust/timeline.html (accessed April 11, 2010).

[2] Miramax Films. "About the Film." The Boy In The Striped Pajamas. http://www.boyinthestripedpajamas.com (accessed April 11, 2010).

[3] Ibid.

[4] Arendt, Hannah. Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (Penguin Classics). London: Penguin Classics, 2006.

[5] Stanley J Grenz, Theology for the Community of God. (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2000)

[6] Ibid.,177

[7] Ephesians 5:14

[8] Grenz, Theology for the Community, 179

[9] 1 Corinthians 12:21-26

[10] Grenz, Theology for the Community, 178

[11] Romans 3:23

[12] Romans 5:8

[13] Romans 3:10

[14] James 4:12

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