The enormously prolific Swiss Roman Catholic theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar (1905-1988) was marginalized during much of his life, but his reputation over time has only continued to grow. He was said to be the favorite theologian of John Paul II and is held in high esteem by Benedict XVI. It is not uncommon to hear him referred to as the great Catholic theologian of the twentieth century.
In Balthasar: A (Very) Critical Introduction Karen Kilby argues that although the low regard in which Balthasar was held from the 1950s to 1960s was not justified, neither is the current tendency to lionize him. Instead, she advocates a more balanced approach, particularly in light of a fundamental problem in his writing, namely, his characteristic authorial voice -- an over-reaching "God's eye" point of view that contradicts the content of his theology.
Karen Kilby hits the nail on the head in her insightful yet sensitive critique of Balthasar. As she admits, there is much to admire about this erudite if eccentric theologian...but there is also much room for caution. Her basic problem with Balthasar is his overreach...for too often taking a God's eye view of reality...of being too assured of the whole. She demonstrates this in two case studies: (1) the Trinity; (2) Gender and the "Nuptial". The second is particularly illuminating in light of the current popularity of John Paul II's "Theology of the Body." All unabashed lovers of "Theology of the Body" should read at least this chapter.
I've not read Balthasar, but have been looking off and on for a way into his work. He's cited laudatorily by theologians I admire (Eugene Rogers, Rowan Williams) and others I find more problematic (charity restrains me naming them). When I saw this volume on the new-books shelf at the library, frankly, it was the title that grabbed me. It promised to get at both what I might like and what I probably wouldn't in v.B's very large corpus.
Kilby's writing is a model of clarity in our discipline. She says plainly what she means, with a minimum of fuss or flourish. That voice lets her make quite a sharp critique without coming off as simply a polemical critic. It lends her case credibility, which it rather needs: Imposing clarity and order on Balthasar is something he'd abhor, but you've got to do it if you're not willing to let his text work you over instead.
How do I know this, when I haven't read the man? Because I've read people like him, at least in the ways Kilby describes. The hyper-polymath with an intuitive sense of the universe's real shape, who inducts you into his (usually his) worldview by rhetorical induction: This could be John Paul II, or Foucault. They don't reason with you. Instead, they reform your soul. It's powerful stuff. And when it goes wrong, it goes very wrong.
My interest in Balthasar centers primarily on method and voice. I have ambitions, at times, not unlike his. Kilby reminds me of the dangers that lie that way. I, at least, can use the reminder.
Kilby's work is clear, fascinating and beautifully written, but where her critical assessment quite well illustrates several key problematics in the rigor, method or style of Von Balthasar's work (perhaps more ably than she appears to estimate is possible), I'm not sure that she's ultimately successful in her ambitious ultimate aim (of which she appears confident)—to show the impossibility of Von Balthasar according to his own rules—and I was never able to escape the feeling that she writes ultimately with an axe to grind because of the apparently unfair rules Balthasar dares to work by. I have to wonder how much this may hang on her penultimate section, "Theology and Spirituality," and what reads to me as possibly a fundamental inability to apprehend the mode of theology Von Balthasar desires and even *invites* others to; despite her best efforts to apprehend it in a generous reading, she appears to grapple quite difficultly with the "kneeling theology" that quite frustratingly would appear to give privileged access to a "God's-eye view" and motivate her most radical criticism. It seems to me beyond questioning that Von Balthasar's chosen mode of theologizing, in eschewing the rigor of academic theology, contains in it many of the dangers Kilby numbers and which should give his readers caution—yet to argue the self-contradicting impossibility of Von Balthasar's theology seems to hang on closing his access to experience as a source of theology, which is the very project Kilby seems to betray in the final moments of the book, and which Kilby may herself overreach in attempting, for whatever flaws and foibles that leaves Von Balthasar with.
Hans Urs von Balthasar, a Swiss-German catholic theologian of contemporary stature, has gained popularity in some circles. He is erudite and a prolific writer but appears to lack a specific methodology in his approach to theological questions to the point of over-reaching in his conclusions. Professor Kilby points out that he can be read to attain insight but one needs to approach his writings with caution. His dramatic approach tends to muddy doctrinal orthodoxy because he is trying to extend his theological horizons beyond traditional boundaries. Nonetheless, Kilby’s book is good to have on hand when wandering in the great dramatic theological landscape of Balthasar.