What does a theologian say to young preachers in the early 1930s, at the dawn of the Third Reich?
What Karl Barth did say, how he said it, and why he said it at that time and place are the subject of Angela Dienhart Hancock's book. This is the story of how a preaching classroom became a place of resistance in Germany in 1932–33 -- a story that has not been told in its fullness. In that emergency situation, Barth took his students back to the fundamental questions about what preaching is and what it is for, returning again and again to the affirmation of the Godness of God, the only ground of resistance to ideological captivity.
No other text has so interpreted Barth's "Exercises in Sermon Preparation" in relation to their theological, political, ecclesiastical, academic, and rhetorical context.
To many folks, Karl Barth's theology is too heavenly minded for any earthly good. His vision of God being wholly other (transcendent) sounds as if God isn't truly present with us. His rejection of natural theology in favor of divine revelation has also rubbed many, especially liberals in America, the wrong way. Yes, Barth has his fans, but is he of any value today?
Angela Dienhart Hancock's recent study of Barth's teachings on homiletics, which I've not read in its English translation, is a helpful antidote. Hancock has written this extremely important book as a response to the reception that has been given Barth's views of scripture and preaching. She does this by setting the sessions he offered in 1932-33 into their proper context -- the rise of Hitler and extreme nationalism in Germany as the Weimar Republic collapsed. The book is titled "Karl Barth's Emergency Homiletic" for a reason. He wasn't the practical theology professor. His job wasn't to teach preaching, but at the request of students he took up the task -- informing the practical theology professor who was an ardent nationalist and supporter of the ethos that welcomed Hitler of his intentions.
Readers will get an introduction to Barth's understanding of preaching, his vision of Scripture, and a keen description of the context of the early 1930s, when Germany went head over heels into a version of Christianity that sought to subsume theology under nationalist ideology.
This is another must read. Some who have treated Barth with disdain may even come to respect him and even embrace him.
Excellent context, not only for Barth's own Homiletics (a book at least as odd as it is illuminating) but for Hunsinger's Karl Barth and Radical Politics. Hancock's narration of Weimar-era German preaching is even-handed and surprisingly gripping. Barth's demand that preaching begin and end with God even when the house is on fire gains specificity and pathos through her showing, week by week, what was happening around Barth as he taught in Bonn. His house was on fire, and he was trying to do theology in the very flames. Some of the more awkward moments in Homiletics turn out to have translation and editorial choices behind them, too, so Hancock's work here would be invaluable for its textual commentary alone.
The Barth of these homiletics is quite specifically not the Red Pastor of Safenwil; for that, too, he has an account, and a complicated one. I'll chew on it, in my own dogmatics and preaching, for years to come.
Terrific. Well written and helpfully structured, Hancock puts Barth’s work in context. Aside from an engagement in Barth’s (very helpful) perspective on preaching, the work is a cautionary tale on mixing religion and nationalism.
Well written book. I was assigned this book for a class or I would have never read it (not a critique just a reflection of my personal interest). The book was insightful for two reasons: (1) It helped me better understand Barth's Homiletics; (2) it was interesting to see timeline showing the history taking place while Barth was giving the lectures that make up Homiletics.