After Princeton Theological Seminary’s 2018 Conference, “Karl Barth and the Future of Liberation Theology,” Kaitlyn Dugan and Paul Dafydd Jones wanted to continue the dialogue. In compiling and editing Karl Barth and Liberation Theology, they examine how the two themes named in the title “factor into a theological imagination that is fitted to deal with the complexities of the present and future” (9). As presentations became essays and additional contributions were solicited, Barth was again placed “in critical and constructive conversation” with “diverse theologies of liberation” (3).
An exciting introduction speaks to the importance of the “voiceless,” including “women, children, the disabled, people of color, those who identify as queer and trans” (4-5), but the essays, even considered collectively, are more limited in scope. Still, authors like Faye Bodley-Dangelo provide genuine insights. Her essay shines a light on “how the female body is a persistent problem in Barth’s descriptions of God’s activity,” providing plentiful examples of Barth’s minimization of the female body and thought-provoking questions as to the limited potential of feminist interpretations of Barth (emphasis original, 10). Writing with South Africa in mind, both Rothney S. Tshaka and Graham Ward also question Barth’s relevance in their respective contributions.
While these chapters undergird the editors’ statement that “liberationist projects . . . clearly do not need Barth to succeed,” others argue he can help further the conversation (4). For example, Lisa Powell pinpoints the rejection of “self-sufficiency and independence as ultimate values” as a point of convergence between Barth and theologies of disability (71). She also constructively engages Bruce McCormack’s heavily debated interpretation of Barth’s treatment of God’s triune self-determination. Taking on another doctrine, Hanna Reichel considers Barth’s understanding of substitutionary atonement as a response to colonialism. While this aids liberation theology in moving beyond the classical focus on redemptive suffering, this proposal would be even stronger if it also explored the Christus Victor (Christ the Victor) aspect of Barth’s atonement theory.
In this volume, some contributors struggle to make a nimble transition from spoken to written form, but other essays are entrancing. Brian Bantam’s contribution is an example of the latter, as he offers a liberative literary theology. However, in beckoning readers to take seriously “seemingly mundane acts” (174), it is glaring that he overlooks the concept of Lo Cotidiano (“the everyday”) proposed by Mujerista Ada María Isasi-Díaz. Raymond Carr offers another creative approach, presenting jazz pianist Thelonious Monk as a “bridge between Barth and James Cone” since he “attends both to the ‘objectivity’ of God (which so fascinated Barth) and to Cone’s interest in the ‘subjective’ experience of Black Americans” (12).
The conversation continues beyond European and American contexts as Meehyun Chung celebrates Barth’s practical understanding of peace in his response to the wars and crises of the 1940s and 50s, laying the groundwork for Soon-Kyung Park to create a geopolitically relevant, feminist Korean theology. Hani Hanna brings the conversation to Egypt, drawing on Barth’s contextual and actualistic theology to advocate for Christian political participation; in suggesting a "quiet activism” (emphasis original, 115), Hanna looks to “nourish a realistic strategy for a post-Arab Spring Egypt” and “hopes for the emergence of an authentic participatory democracy” (116).
Three of the latter chapters are especially robust in their demand for community-based, lived theology that goes beyond ivory towers and elaborate libraries. First, David Clough takes up James Cone’s critique of Barthians, challenging fellow white scholars—in actionable ways—to participate in the “core theological task” of “[deconstructing] white male human supremacy” (158). This is followed by Tyler B. Davis and Ry O. Siggelkow’s pertinent discussion of natural theology as it relates to Barth, Cone, and the 1967 Detroit Rebellion. And finally, Jones, one of the volume’s editors, contends with the future of the church, the alt-right, and White supremacy, particularly in light of the deadly “Summer of Hate” in Charlottesville, Virginia in 2017.
While some readers may be distracted by the quality of the binding, others may note a few editing errors. Throughout the volume strong footnotes facilitate further study, but readers are also left to investigate the insights of Mujerista, Womanist, Childist, and Queer Liberation Theologies on their own, as they are notably absent. Notwithstanding, the existing contributions do offer “constructive theopolitical provocations” and solidify the bridge between Barth and liberation theologies (3). The greatest contribution of Karl Barth and Liberation Theology is the way it challenges scholars to consider the liberative nature of the gospel, particularly in reference to systemic concerns which have undeniable implications local to them. Herein, this volume may leave traditional academics unsettled, but it will surely give progressive scholars hope to carry on.
Rev. Catherine C. Tobey is a PhD student at Aberdeen University.
Catherine C. Tobey
Date Of Review:
August 29, 2023
