Baur's Understandable Presupposition

F. C. Baur was an interesting man. Incredibly industrious, he was at his desk at four o'clock every morning. During his life he produced ten thousand pages of published work and after his death students and friends published another six thousand pages of his work, roughly equaling a 400 page book being published every year for 40 years.*

While Baur's work ethic was admirable, his theology....not so much. At least from a conservative point of view. He was the leader of the Tubingen school in Germany in the early 1800s, which school was renowned for its skepticism of the reliability of the NT. Baur believed that Jewish Christianity, being the earliest form of the religion, entered a tension with Gentile Christianity and in this battle the Gentile form of Christianity eventually won. He saw Peter (apostle to the Jews) and Paul (apostle to the Gentiles) as arch-enemies, based on Gal. 2:11-14 (and Baur's imagination). One of Baur's key arguments was his idea that "Simon Magus," the man whom Peter confronted in Clement of Rome's epistle, was none other than Paul. This was later disproved by J. B. Lightfoot, but for a while it held the argument.

What made Baur come to this conclusion? We all have presuppositions when we come to the text and Baur was no exception. He was influenced by Hegel's philosophy of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. That is, there is something, then something else comes along causing disorder and tension, but finally one of them wins, producing synthesis. This was the presupposition that led to his strange idea of the early Church.

This was a grave presupposition (though not the most foolish). Though I disagree with his theology greatly, I can kind of see how he might think this.

For example, consider the rise of the "historical-critical method" of biblical interpretation. This is the type of study in which a person comes to the Bible assuming it is not true. It basically takes the Bible to be a book just like any other...the product of men. Two of its leading proponents were Baruch Spinoza and Samuel Reimarus. Oh, and Ferdinand Christian Baur (I love my professor's quote: "The only thing Christian about this man was his name").

But think about it...where did the historical critical method originate? Guys like Baruch Spinoza saw the atrocities of the Spanish Inquisition and the hypocrisies of "Christianity" and basically swung to the other side. "If this is what Christianity is, I don't want any part of it."

Can you relate to that? If you've been a Christian for more than a month, you probably can. It is certainly no excuse for apostasy or even bitterness, but it makes you think. If Christians had been acting like Christians, maybe there would not have been historical skepticism....

*Stephen Neill & Tom Wright, The Interpretation of the New Testament: 1861-1986, p. 21.

Book Review: Historical Criticism of the Bible

Eta Linneman
Historical Criticism of the Bible: Methodology or Ideology?
Grand Rapids/Baker Book House, 1990. Pp. 169. Paperback.

A penitent, former historical-critical theologian, Eta Linnemann provides a first-hand perspective of historical-critical theology. Having studied under Bultmann, Fuchs, Gogarten, and Ebeling (p. 17) in West Germany, where Christian liberal arts universities were virtually non-existent, Linnemann attained great prestige in her field but upon her realization that the historical-critical method of theology offers no good service to God (rather, quite the opposite), she recanted and in 1978 even threw away her previous writings that had won her so much honor. She stated this well in her first paragraph of introduction: “My ‘No!’ to historical-critical theology stems from my glorious redemption he accomplished for me on Golgotha” (p. 17).

The methodology of Linnemann’s study is both destructive and constructive. First, she critiques the historical-critical method, offering a history concerning its origins in paganism, its true motivation, and the firm position it holds in many universities. With Linnemann’s experience in historical-critical theology, she is certainly qualified to inform readers the mentality of this method of interpretation (chapter 8). Second, she constructs a model which can be used to found Christian universities, even including educational objects and a plan of study. Finally, she concludes her study by biblical analysis of the Word of God and a plea to “search the Scriptures” (p. 159).

Section one is titled “Christianity and the Modern University.” In chapter one, Linnemann begins at the beginning by tracing modern universities to their pagan roots, informing readers that “the university in Athens was closed because of its pagan character” in 529 B. C. (p. 23). She adds that the modern university is not steered by a desire to know truth but by humanism and its group dynamics. Instead of someone pursuing knowledge freely, Linnemann suggests that “the individual is granted freedom only insofar as that person’s work can be integrated into the traditional framework of the discipline” (p. 28). She later adds that the so-called “Faith of Theology” is fraught with presuppositions and bias, such as the denial of the possibility of divine revelation, and that it [critical intellect] “judges by fleshly standards” (p. 108).

In addition to this history of interpretation, in chapter three Linnemann provides a biblical parallel to the paganism in modern universities. After King Solomon died and the kingdom was divided, Jeroboam changed the place, time, object, and priesthood of worship, bringing paganism to Israel on an institutional level. The points that Linnemann emphasize are the Israelites’ silence and later forgetfulness at the apostasy of their king. While many were deceived at Jeroboam’s claim that the golden calves had delivered them out of Egypt, “those who were in a position to know better—and there must have been some in Israel—held their peace” (p. 46), which has a clear implication for students and professors today. Further, it is interesting, as Linnemann notes, that the Israelites so quickly forgot the gravity of this sin. A similar event occurred a few centuries before at the foot of Sinai, but was quickly put down by Moses, Joshua, and Levites. However, the prophet from Bethel had no one on his side when he confronted Jeroboam, which is comparable to a modern stand against the historical-critical method.

Linnemann also provides a fair critique of the historical-critical method. Chapter eight reveals the “mentality” of the method as operating under the assumption that there is no God (p. 116). This assumption is connected to the presupposition that the Bible is the product of the human mind and can only be understood through the methods of historical science (p. 115) and “group dynamics” (p. 28) in this discipline do not foster intellectual freedom but stifle growth because of the traditions of the study. In short, pride and ambition lead scholars to conformity with the atheistic mindset of the historical-critical method. Linnemann strikes the proverbial nail on the head when she says, “There is truth only in Jesus. In humanism truth is replaced by recognition, a prestige wrapped up in the conferring and accepting of honor” (p. 28).

Though there are many strong points in this book, one weakness may be Linnemann’s impassioned writing. She is certainly zealous and passionate about the dangers of the historical-critical method but because of the fiery language toward this model of interpretation, some may dismiss her claims as being emotionally driven. On the other hand, though, the urgency of her message may win some who study in and have been taught with the historical-critical method.