Does the dissenting theologian have a Luther complex?
8/24/2003 3:28:19 PM
I regularly check out the new books released by Eerdmans, a Protestant publishing house that produces a huge number of books each year, many of them quite good and worth reading. Eerdmans publishes quite a range of books, but most of them would fall into the general category of conservative Protestantism; Eerdmans has also published classics by Catholic theologians Romano Guardini, Jean Danielou, Hans Urs von Balthasar, Cardinal Ratzinger, and Henri de Lubac (the Ressourcement Series edited by Communio editor David L. Schindler).
Lo and behold, Eerdman's is now publishing the autobiography of Hans Kung, titled My Struggle for Freedom. Kung is the influential and controversial German theologian who was stripped of his capacity to teach as a Catholic theologian in 1979 after a long, running battle with Vatican officials over his increasingly strident and irresponsible attacks on Church authority in general and papal infallibility specifically.
I was annoyed with the description of the book, but also amused how Kung continues to present himself as a sort of modern-day Martin Luther, a mighty champion for true Christianity against the oppressive, dark machinery of the Vatican and its countless agents:
My Struggle for Freedom is the long-awaited autobiography by one of the most important theologians of our time. Hans Küng, author of such monumental books as The Catholic Church and On Being a Christian, here takes readers through the first four decades of his fascinating life.
Küng's book offers a compelling account of his journeys around the world and of his meetings with presidents like John F. Kennedy, with popes like John XXIII and Paul VI, and with great theologians like Karl Barth and Karl Rahner. With its rich thought and vivid narrative, this autobiography depicts Küng's formative years and — the famous theme of his life — his struggle for a Christianity characterized not by the domination of an official church but by Jesus.
Beginning with his childhood and youth in Switzerland, Küng describes his elite education at the papal Collegium Germanicum. In revealing detail he discusses the strict regimentation and repression of the Roman system and his ensuing conflicts with the Catholic Church. Küng also openly shares his experience of the event that stamped his career — the Vatican's withdrawal in 1979 of his ecclesiastical teaching permission because he opposed the Catholic doctrine of papal infallibility.
Also of great interest is the book's description of the Second Vatican Council, where Küng served as a young theological advisor. As one of the last surviving eyewitnesses of Vatican II, Küng here gives an authentic account of the conflicts behind the scenes. Thus this book is much more than the self-portrait of a giant of Christian thought. Tightly woven with many of the most significant movements and moments in twentieth-century Christian history, Küng's life story provides a valuable window into the developments of contemporary theology and church life around the world.
There is no denying Kung's intelligence and scholarly brilliance (his book Does God Exist? for example, is quite the impressive work), but the Christian Faith is not about being smarter than other people. It is ultimately about humility and holiness, both being gifts of God through Christ. From what I have read, Kung's arrogance is legendary. Contrast that with the incredible humility of Cardinal Ratzinger, once a colleague of Kung's, whose work for the Church has exhibited the sort of humility, strength, firmness, charity, and pastoral vision one expects from a true disciple of Christ.
As for Kung being "one of the most important theologians of our time"—perhaps he is. However, I think it is safe to say he not one of the most important theologians of all time, for his work is the product of a particular era and does not contain the timeless qualities that exist in the work of Ratzinger, Pope John Paul II, and others.
True freedom is not found in raging against the "official church," but in humbling oneself and accepting the Church's teachings, even when they might irritate us. Kung continues to sell well—just as Garry Wills and Co. sells well—because they are dissenters. Many readers like rebellion, dissent, and disrespect for authority.
But God doesn't want dissenters; He desires disciples. Discipleship doesn't always sell well and it doesn't come with worldly fame, but it does have the perk of being true, right, and everlasting. Rage on, Hans Kung, rage on...
