Abstract
In this short, lucid study, Reinhard Feldmeier, Professor of New Testament at Georg-August-University Göttingen, has given us a valuable reflection on what he rightly identifies as a central concern of biblical ethics—namely, the issue of power. His approach is, broadly speaking, that of ‘biblical theology’, which in this instance means that insights about power and related matters are drawn from relevant scriptural texts and integrated into a larger whole in dialogue with theological conversation-partners ancient and modern. My review will consist mainly of (appreciative) exposition. Brief, critical reflection will be left to the end.
A fine introduction, entitled ‘Prelude with the Devil’, uses Bernard of Clairvaux’s warning to Pope Eugene concerning the libido dominandi (‘lust for domination’ or ‘will for power’) as a springboard into an analysis of a key gospel narrative, the temptation of Jesus following his baptism, as told by Matthew. Feldmeier rightly points out that the way Matthew addresses the central question of power is by telling the story of Jesus, and doing so by setting it between two mountain scenes, the temptation prior to the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, and the resurrection christophany at the gospel’s end. ‘This [mythical] framework lifts the totality of Jesus’ life above mere history and places it in the larger context of God’s activity for the liberation of his people—indeed of the whole creation’ (p. 8). Power is not neutral, but something contested: and it is power as an expression of the rule of God over against demonic alternatives that forms the substance of what follows in the book’s three main chapters.
Chapter 1 is entitled ‘Power’. After contextualising power in the history of ancient religion, where religion, power and politics are inextricably linked and where superior power is accorded divinity, Feldmeier argues for certain ‘differentiations’ when it comes to the power of the God of Israel. Thus, while it is taken for granted that God is all-powerful, particular emphasis is placed on God’s power as relational and soteriological, finding expression not least in his taking the side of the weak and powerless (cf. the Magnificat). Indeed, in scriptural and related tradition, it is precisely in God’s salvific interventions on behalf of ‘the poor’ that God is praised as ‘almighty’.
In fundamental continuity with this tradition is the thrust of the gospels concerning Jesus and the kingdom (rule) of God. God’s power is ‘hidden under its opposite … because it comes to the world in the lowly form of a Galilean carpenter whose earthly life ends on the cross’ (p. 19). In Jesus, God’s power is manifest, once more, as salvific and, in the lifting up of the lowly (Lk. 1:52), it is power that is shared. Above all, in the revelation of divine power in the crucifixion and resurrection, there is what Feldmeier calls a ‘changeover of power’ (p. 22), by which he means that the taken-for-granted assumptions of ancient society about divine and human power are turned upside down.
The rest of the New Testament bears this out, especially Paul’s Corinthian correspondence, as Feldmeier shows (pp. 22–28). Finally, having observed that the New Testament is in fact quite reticent in applying predicates of power to God, in order to avoid linking God and power too directly (as if God were just a predicate of power), Feldmeier emphasizes the dialectical nature of the relation between God and power: ‘The New Testament holds decidedly fast to the power of the heavenly Father, but at the same time, this constitutes a contradiction of other conceptions of power and thereby makes necessary a differentiation in the concept of power’ (p. 32). In particular, as the Pauline and Johannine traditions make clear, God’s power is always associated with God’s love.
The corollary at the human level of God’s power-as-love is the subject of chapter 2, on ‘Service’. As with power, certain ‘differentiations’ are required. In particular, in respect of human freedom, the question is not the fact of service, but in relation to whom or what service is being rendered (p. 35); and Feldmeier correctly observes that, in New Testament terms, freedom is found, not in the autonomy of the individual, but in relationship to God as God’s ‘slave’ (1 Pet. 2:16) or ‘son’ (Gal. 4:7; Rom. 8:14–17). A useful (and thoroughly Lutheran) distinction is then made between ‘direct’ and ‘indirect’ service of God (p. 35). Direct service is ‘service in the Christian community’ and takes the form of self-giving after the pattern of Christ. This is elaborated through an exegesis of key texts from the gospels (e.g. Mk 10:42–45) and epistles (e.g. Gal. 5:13–14), and includes a brief discussion of ‘church ministries as services’ (pp. 51–52). Indirect service of God is that rendered by the state in so far as the state acts in accordance with the divine will; and here, while noting the significant ‘differentiations’ surrounding state power in the New Testament, most attention is given to Rom. 13:1–7, on the grounds that ‘Paul’s words have perennial importance because they played a central role in preventing early Christianity from simply rejecting state order and its institutions … [and enabled them] to take their place in the structures of society, to the extent that this was compatible with their faith’ (p. 56).
Corresponding to, and undergirding, the interpretation of power as service is the virtue of humility (tapeinophrosunē), the subject of chapter 3. Here, Feldmeier rightly observes that a notion with overwhelmingly negative connotations in pagan sources is subject to a ‘transvaluation of values’. Whereas pagan culture glorifies the strong (i.e. those who come out ‘on top’ in the social contest for domination) and disparages humility as a sign of weakness, in early Christianity, self-abnegation for the sake of the other is viewed positively and becomes fundamental in Christian personal and social morality. It does so under the influence of scriptural and early Jewish moral traditions—including Jesus tradition—which highlight God’s hostility to the proud and his love for the humble (e.g. Ps. 149:2, 4; Prov. 22:4; Sir. 10:14–15; and cf. Matt. 5:5; 11:29). Most influential, however, is what Feldmeier calls ‘the ethos of the cross’ (p. 65), an ethos which is elaborated beautifully in an extended exposition of the ‘Christ hymn’ of Phil. 2:1–11 (pp. 67–81). The following is typical: ‘Humility is the labor of the love that is put into practice, the love that the opening verses called a divine gift (Phil. 2:1) and a human task (Phil. 2:2). It breaks through the bellum omnium contra omnes, the “war of all against all”, the compulsion to outdo one another, and the conflicts to which this leads’ (p. 71).
Other, post-Pauline and non-Pauline texts are then engaged (e.g. Col. 3:12–14; Eph. 4:2; 1 Pet. 3:8–9; 5:1–6; Jas 1:9–10). Taken together, what emerges is the absolute centrality of the virtue of humility to the ethos and practice of the early church. At the ‘vertical’ level, God is exalted and a common identity is located ‘in Christ’. On the ‘horizontal’ level, mutual acceptance and ecclesial unity are strengthened, and hostility towards outsiders is tempered (cf. 1 Pet. 3:9).
A two-page summary concludes Feldmeier’s account, and he suggests with good reason that ‘it is possible to read the entire New Testament as the story of a power struggle between a destructive autonomous power that is called mythologically the devil … and the good news of the rule of God’ (p. 95). In sum, in bringing together the themes of power, service and humility in a mutually enriching way, Feldmeier has made a very helpful contribution to a scripturally-informed Christian ethics. The Notes at the end constitute about one-fifth of the whole and draw in commentators from the patristic period to the present day, which gives the work added value. There is a useful bibliography, as well as an index of primary sources. The translation from the original German by Brian McNeil reads very well.
By way of brief critical reflection, I offer the following. First, this is a biblical theo-logy of power without the help of the social sciences. Nietzsche gets a mention, but not inter alios Weber or Marx or Giddens. So a typology of power, which might have given more nuance to the analysis, is lacking. Related to this, no distinction is made between power and authority. On this, the work would have benefited from Bengt Holmberg’s Paul and Power: The Structure of Authority in the Primitive Church as Reflected in the Pauline Epistles (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1980).
Second, and related, power, service and humility in the New Testament are considered without relation to matters of gender, class or ethnicity. To take just gender, there is now a substantial body of feminist-inspired New Testament scholarship for which the interpretation of power is a critical issue, both in relation to the ongoing struggle for women’s liberation and in the constructive quest for women’s spiritual empowerment. In this context, and given the ways in which an apparently biblical ethic of service and humility have been used to keep women in their place, Feldmeier’s lack of engagement on this score is a missed opportunity.
Third, and related to issues of class and ethnicity, more weight could profitably have been given to more radical strains running through certain New Testament texts. In the chapter on power, for example, the book of Revelation is given only two pages, and its challenge is played down as that which ‘can be understood appropriately only as an extreme response to an extreme situation’ (p. 31). Even in the interpretation of Paul, little comes across of the (socially, as well as theologically) radical character of his apocalyptic gospel, something which recent Pauline scholarship, from at least J. Louis Martyn onwards, has recognised increasingly.
Finally, in a cultural context of what we think of today as postmodernity, according to which all discourse—especially discourse about power—is an expression of identity and interests, I would like to have seen greater reflexivity on Feldmeier’s part, a greater sense that what is being said and the interpretations being offered are self-involving. Interesting, therefore, would be a dialogue with a much more overtly engaged approach to Feldmeier’s subject, namely, Walter Wink’s trilogy, and perhaps especially Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992).