[1] This passionate, clearly-written book is a
post-Euro-American essay in Lutheran theological ethics. Which
helps to explain its considerable strengths and some of its
unfinished business.
[2] Cynthia D. Moe-Lobeda teaches Christian ethics at Seattle
University. She writes from the perspective of an intense Third
World experience. She served for a number of years as a healthcare
missionary in Honduras and later worked with homeless women in
Washington, D.C. Her theological commitments have been formed in
conversation with colleagues in Africa, India, and Korea, as well
as in the Carribean region. She is a regular theological
collaborator with Larry Rasmussen of Union Theological Seminary,
New York (see, for example, their joint essay, "the Reform
Dynamic," in The Promise of Lutheran Ethics, ed. Karen L.
Bloomquist and John R. Stumme [Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1998]).
Much influenced by theological feminism, she - paradoxically, as
she says - is also a dedicated, albeit critical, celebrant of the
theology of Martin Luther.
[3] This book is a post-Euro-American essay in Lutheran theological
ethics, first of all, because of the global perspective from which
Moe-Lobeda writes. One of the things this book shows, indeed, is,
comparatively speaking, how culturally specific, even parochial,
the most highly regarded Euro-American Lutheran approaches to
theological ethics often have been (e.g. Werner Elert, William
Lazareth). Can anyone imagine a work in Lutheran ethics that does
not even mention the doctrine of the Two Kingdoms?
Undoubtedly because of the global context from which she writes,
Moe-Lobeda has done precisely that. She is, to be sure, thoroughly
conversant with the Lutheran tradition and well prepared to justify
her own argument in terms of Luther's theology. But the point is
this, that hers is a different context, and the issues which
preoccupy her and the appropriate way to think about them are not
the issues and the ways of thinking that preoccupied many 19th and
20th century Euro-American Lutheran ethicists.
[4] The book is also a post-Euro-American essay in Lutheran
theological ethics because of the way in which Moe-Lobeda claims
her Lutheran heritage. It is the resounding and sometimes
self-contradicting voice of Luther the public reformer she hears,
the Luther who stood up against the oppressive theo-political
establishment of his time, who is remembered for having said "Here
I stand," rather than the sometimes muffled voice of Luther the
church theologian, resonating through the works of his more
systematically inclined theological followers and confessional
heirs. With a number of more recent interpreters of Luther, as
well, she adamantly rejects the darker side of Luther's thought and
life, especially his virulent anti-semitism and his savage response
to the Peasants' Rebellion.
[5] In the spirit of Luther, Moe-Lobeda wants to persuade us to
take on what in her view are the insidious and virtually omnipotent
forces of globalization, as Luther took on the oppressive
political-ecclesial world of his time. Readers not familiar with
recent scholarly discussions of the forces Moe-Lobeda refers to by
the term globalization, especially those readers who may consider
themselves sympathetic with, if not card-carrying members of, the
theo-political right, should give Moe-Lobeda the benefit of the
doubt, at least to begin with. She is no knee-jerk Lutheran
fellow-traveler of the theo-political left. She has done her
intellectual homework. Hers is one of the most balanced, and most
persuasive, analyses and critiques of globalization by a theologian
available anywhere.
[6] Around the globe, masses of the poor, especially impoverished
children, are dying. So is our earthly habitat, slowly but
steadily. And many of the best-intended among those of us in
nations like the U.S. have been brainwashed (not her term, but her
meaning) by the very forces which dominate the world where the poor
of the earth and the good earth itself are being destructively
exploited by forces beyond their control. In this respect,
Moe-Lobeda could have helpfully invoked the biblical testimony
about the principalities and powers of death in this world, and the
witness of the Book of Revelation, in particular, against Roman
power. But her point, often narrated in first-person terms, and
typically backed up by thoughtful and sobering socio-political
analysis, is telling, nevertheless.
[7] How are Christians to respond to this situation of rampant,
global destruction of the poor and the earth? To begin with by
seeing and thinking clearly, Moe-Lobeda believes. Hence her careful
and detailed analysis of the forces of globalization. But all the
more so, for her, Christians can respond to our global crisis by
drawing on the power given to them by the indwelling Christ, by
whose grace and in whose presence, they can reach out, by being
"little Christs"(Luther), to their poor neighbors around the globe
and to an earth now groaning in travail. Although Moe-Lobeda
doesn't couch the matter in these explicit terms, this is her
reinterpretation, in part, of Luther's theology of the bondage of
the will. We are in bondage to sinful, earthly powers, which we
cannot resist, which, in significant ways, we cannot even see or
understand. We can only step forward to claim the freedom which
Christ has given us coram Deo and coram mundo, in
virtue of the immediate, indwelling power of Christ himself and his
"subversive moral agency." This is one way, Moe-Lobeda believes, in
which the theology of Luther can be of help to us in this era of
globalization, by his theology of the ubiquity of the indwelling
Christ.
[8] Strikingly, Moe-Lobeda also invokes a Luther here who will
probably be unfamiliar to numbers of readers who have been tutored
by mainline Luther studies in the modern era. Yes, she allows and
indeed emphasizes, Luther was a man of his times, who took the
hierarchical world of his medieval society for granted. But he also
stood over against that public world, radically, in significant
ways, not only by his opposition to the papacy and its political
allies, but also by his opposition to the then rising forces of
transnational capitalism (!), exemplified especially by the
practice of usury (interest!). Moe-Lobeda invokes the careful
historical studies of Carter Lindberg at this point: "He [Luther]
saw the entire community endangered by the financial power of a few
great economic centers... He saw an economic coercion immune to
normal jurisdiction that would destroy the ethos of the
community... Luther believed that the church was called to reject
publicly and unequivocally these economic developments and to
develop a constructive social ethic that would include public
accountability of large business through governmental regulation.
Only through government regulation was justice possible for the
poor." (126)
[9] Further, again drawing on the historical studies of Lindberg,
Moe-Lobeda argues that the connection between the power of the
indwelling Christ, on the one hand, and the mandate for Christians,
driven by christly neighbor-love, to stand up against those
destructive economic forces, was and is the self-same indwelling
Christ, sacramentally ministered to and by the church. For Luther,
Moe-Lobeda explains, "'Moral life as indwelling Christ" (sic)
theologically created both the obligation and the moral power for
Christians to develop social welfare systems and to oppose economic
oppression." And that flowed from a liturgical center, she
maintains, again citing Lindberg: "Social welfare for Luther was...
the liturgy after the liturgy, a work of the people flowing from
worship.... Poor relief expressed this community solidarity.... It
was, in fact, an act of worship, of divine service."(89)
[10] Moe-Lobeda's treatment of Luther in her engaging study is much
more detailed and much more nuanced than this review of her
discussion indicates, akin, in this respect, to her careful
treatment of globalization. But this much should indicate how
sophisticated and how well-argued her exposition actually is. Not
all will agree with her in every respect, to be sure, either in her
treatment of globalization or in her interpretation of Luther. But
thoughtful christians, especially those of a Lutheran persuasion,
will have to take her argument seriously, even as they may decide,
in the end, that it needs revision or perhaps that it should be
rejected outright, on any number of socio-political or theo-ethical
grounds.
[11] In the interest of continuing the conversation, a number of
points of unfinished business come to mind. Moe-Lobeda herself
invites this kind of dialogue, since at a number of key points
along the way she allows that her argument is very much a work in
progress. First a contextual question. Which audience or audiences
is she addressing? Much of the time the book reads as if it were a
kind of Lutheran theological apology written for a community of
readers whose theological perspective is already defined by the
insights and the arguments of liberation theology and by feminist
theology. If the enthusiastic back-cover endorsement by Sallie
McFague is any indicator, Moe-Lobeda has achieved what she set out
do to in this respect. But Moe-Lobeda is at the same time, and
perhaps all the more so, concerned to reach members of her own
theologically and politically diverse American Lutheran community.
And much of what she says, especially her engaged, but critical
exposition of Luther, will speak with real force to that audience.
But she will have to work harder in this respect.
[12] Throughout the book, for example, she invariably refers to
God as "She." Which is surely Moe-Lobeda's prerogative, and for
which there is ample and solid contemporary precedence, above all
in the seminal work of Elizabeth Johnson, She Who Is. But
Moe-Lobeda never offers as much as a footnote to identify why this
mode of speaking is necessary for her argument, if it is, or even
why it may be helpful. Trinitarian and liturgical questions, of
course, are at issue here, as are Moe-Lobeda's attempts to reclaim
Luther's - deeply trinitarian - thought as her own. (Moe-Lobeda's
single trinitarian reference in this study, to God as "Source,
Lover, and Liberator," sounds very much like Sallie McFague,
although there is no reference to McFague at that point.) An
American Lutheran church audience, if it is to be won over by
Moe-Lobeda's argument, needs to hear more from her in this
respect.
[13] Likewise for Moe-Lobeda's affirmation of "panentheism" and
her rather curious grammatical practice of capitalizing "Earth" in
every instance. She does this with no argument, not even a
footnote. Are we to believe that she intends us to understand,
following McFague, that the earth is God's body? Or that the earth
is sacramental in some sense? In this regard, Moe-Lobeda also makes
the uncritical historical judgment that Luther was a panentheist.
Well, no. The whole point of the Lutheran "in, with, and under" is
that no single preposition, "in" or any other, can attest to the
mystery and the power and the immediacy of the Divine immanence. We
need to hear more from Moe-Lobeda in this respect, too.
[14] Then a final theological and contextual question, perhaps the
most crucial of all, if Moe-Lobeda's argument is to have the
outcome in the life and witness of the contemporary American
Lutheran church that she obviously so deeply desires. Can Luther's
thought, even critically appropriated as Moe-Lobeda seeks to do,
really carry the theological-ecclesial freight that she loads on
it? In a word, how does one get from the power of the indwelling
Christ in the heart of the believer to the public witness, even the
public martyrdom, of the church that Moe-Lobeda calls for in this
era of the death-wielding powers of globalization? In more
commonplace theological terms, how does the Lutheran heart
strangely touched by Jesus (as John Wesley's was), become part of a
publicly powerful community of witness to the principalities and
powers? Is it not the case, indeed, that Luther typically envisions
witness and discipleship in terms of the individual, not the
community? And is the individual witness, as in the case of Luther
himself or, in our own era, as in the case of Dietrich Bonhoeffer,
all that Moe-Lobeda wants us to envision?
[15] Here in this Lutheran context the thought of yet another
reformer, John Calvin, is probably worth revisiting. Why? Many
years ago, Ernst Troeltsch observed that Luther had a powerful
trust in the efficacy of the Word. That trust was expressed in a
bon mot by Luther, cited by Roland Bainton in his biography of the
reformer: "As I drink my Wittenberg beer, the Gospel runs its
course." Troeltsch argued that this kind of trust in the efficacy
of the Word alone, on Luther's part, presupposed a silent trust in
the Divine ordination of the established order: that Luther's
thought always came down on the side of the individual Christian
loving the neighbor, within the constraints of the
socio-political status quo. Accordingly, when Luther thought of the
defining "marks of the Church," he as a matter of course thought of
- "the Word and the Sacraments." The Word and the Sacraments, for
Luther, offer the individual believer "the forgiveness of sins,
life, and salvation," and thereby launch the believer, as it were,
into the world as a lover of neighbors or even, on rare occasions,
as conscientious objector to unjust civil authority. But in this
schema, the social structures typically remained untouched and
unaddressed. Hence the question: how does one get from the
indwelling Christ in the heart of the believer to the communal
confrontation with the principalities and powers of this age? This
is the point where the theology of Calvin seems to offer some
instructive insights.
[16] Luther held that the marks of the Church are Word and
Sacrament. Calvin - perhaps already sensing the kind of powers that
the emerging capitalist order could and would muster - held that
the marks of the Church are Word and Sacrament and
discipline. In a word, building up the Body of Christ was, for
Calvin, an essential and identifying dimension of the Church's very
being. Can the Church, then, be the martyriological community
Moe-Lobeda wants it to be, in this era when, in her view, the
principalities and powers of death are raging, without attending
deeply and pervasively to building up its own counter-cultural
communal reality? If, in other words, I am not part of a community
which stands over and against the principalities and powers of this
age, how could I ever say "here I stand"? Don't I really need more
than the indwelling Christ in my own - feeble - heart? Don't I
really need the solidarity (one of Moe-Lobeda's own
favorite constructs in other contexts) of my membership within the
church? Don't we really need to think of the church in terms of
Word and Sacrament - and discipline? Do not the kind of ethics of
moral agency that Moe-Lobeda espouses existentially demand an
ethics of communal formation? That much seems to be required of a
Lutheran theology today, if it is truly to be
post-Euro-American.
Healing a Broken World: Globalization and God by Cynthia
D. Moe-Lobeda can be purchased online from
Augsburg Fortress Publishers.
© October
2003
Journal of Lutheran Ethics
Volume 3, Issue 10