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A Theology for the Social Gospel
IN April, 1917, I had the honour of delivering four lectures on the Nathaniel W. Taylor Foundation before the Annual Convocation of the Yale School of Religion. These lectures are herewith presented in elaborated form.
The Taylor Lectures are expected to deal with some theme in Doctrinal Theology, but the Faculty in their invitation indicated that a discussion of some phase of the social problem would be welcome. I have tried to obey this suggestion and still to remain well within the original purpose of the Foundation by taking as my subject, “A Theology for the Social Gospel.”
Of my qualifications for this subject I have reason to think modestly, for I am not a doctrinal theologian either by professional training or by personal habits of mind. Professional duty and intellectual liking have made me a teacher of Church History, and the events of my life, interpreted by my religious experiences, have laid the social problems on my mind. On the other hand, it may be that the necessity of approaching systematic theology from the outside may be of real advantage. Theology has often received its most fruitful impulses when secular life and movements have set it new problems.
Of the subject itself I have no cause to speak modestly. Its consideration is of the highest importance for the future of theology and religion. It bristles with intellectual problems. This book had to be written some time, and as far as I know, nobody has yet written it. I offer my attempt until some other man comes along who can plough deeper and straighter.
I wish to assure the reader who hesitates in the vestibule, that the purpose of this book is wholly positive and constructive. It is just as orthodox as the Gospel would allow. I have dedicated it to an eminent representative of the older theology in order to express my deep gratitude for what I have received from it, and to clasp hands through him with all whose thought has been formed by Jesus Christ.
My fraternal thanks are due to my friends, Professor James Bishop Thomas, Ph.D., of the University of the South, and Professor F. W. C. Meyer of Rochester Theological Seminary, who have given a critical reading to my manuscript and have made valuable suggestions.
The Taylor Lectures are expected to deal with some theme in Doctrinal Theology, but the Faculty in their invitation indicated that a discussion of some phase of the social problem would be welcome. I have tried to obey this suggestion and still to remain well within the original purpose of the Foundation by taking as my subject, “A Theology for the Social Gospel.”
Of my qualifications for this subject I have reason to think modestly, for I am not a doctrinal theologian either by professional training or by personal habits of mind. Professional duty and intellectual liking have made me a teacher of Church History, and the events of my life, interpreted by my religious experiences, have laid the social problems on my mind. On the other hand, it may be that the necessity of approaching systematic theology from the outside may be of real advantage. Theology has often received its most fruitful impulses when secular life and movements have set it new problems.
Of the subject itself I have no cause to speak modestly. Its consideration is of the highest importance for the future of theology and religion. It bristles with intellectual problems. This book had to be written some time, and as far as I know, nobody has yet written it. I offer my attempt until some other man comes along who can plough deeper and straighter.
I wish to assure the reader who hesitates in the vestibule, that the purpose of this book is wholly positive and constructive. It is just as orthodox as the Gospel would allow. I have dedicated it to an eminent representative of the older theology in order to express my deep gratitude for what I have received from it, and to clasp hands through him with all whose thought has been formed by Jesus Christ.
My fraternal thanks are due to my friends, Professor James Bishop Thomas, Ph.D., of the University of the South, and Professor F. W. C. Meyer of Rochester Theological Seminary, who have given a critical reading to my manuscript and have made valuable suggestions.
110 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1990
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368 people want to read
About the author
Walter Rauschenbusch
42 books6 followersWalter Rauschenbusch was an American theologian and Baptist pastor who taught at the Rochester Theological Seminary.
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Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews
June 9, 2024
While some of this book is beyond my capacity, a sentence towards the end captures the intent: the social gospel is based on the belief that love is the only true working principle of human society. The author might be horrified to learn that topics he discussed in 1917 when this book first came out are still thrashing about in our world daily. We seem no wiser in conquering them.
January 23, 2015
Walter Rauschenbusch states in his 1917 work, A Theology for the Social Gospel: “We have a social gospel. We need a systematic theology large enough to match it and vital enough to back it.” This is the first statement in the book under the chapter heading. It seems at first to be a very agreeable comment that we should all board quickly. However, it very clearly points to Rauschenbusch’s heart and own personal theology. If we are in the business of modeling our theology to something man-derived—as is the social gospel—we are starting out with God in our own personal box; meeting our own personal definitions and supposed needs in a sort of faux faith devoid of the important aspects of the real God. Are we ready to start with something as small as the social gospel and look for a view of God to match it? Rauschenbusch has some lofty aspirations. However, he does state: “the social gospel imports into theology nothing that is new or alien.”
I believe there are many conflicting and defensive statements in Rauschenbusch’s book. In this review, I will seek to first highlight some of the history of the social gospel, and then provide some commentary on two points that resonated with me as I first read it. Overall, I believe that Rauschenbusch presents a very liberal case for how believers should consider theology, and I do not see evidence for all of his major thoughts in Scripture.
Brief History and Definition of the Social Gospel
What is the social gospel? The social gospel movement was basically an effort to incorporate Christian principles into society. In order to do this, one must get at the heart of Christianity, and that is accomplished through the study of God. Theology became a necessary tool in which leaders of the social gospel movement sought to determine the extent to which Christianity should direct society. William Lindsey, in Shailer Mathews’s Lives of Jesus, says: “Rauschenbusch is widely regarded as the social gospel theologian.” Lindsey states later in his work that there were three leading figures in the social gospel movement. In addition to Rauschenbusch, Samuel Zane Batten and Charles P. Henderson formed a group called “the Baptist Congress for the Discussion of Current Questions” in which he also cites was “an unofficial denominational forum” that met from 1892-1907.
An Ever-Changing Theology?
As he searched to define further the social gospel, Rauschenbusch came into a series of personal views about theology such as: “If theology stops growing or is unable to adjust itself to its modern environment and to meet its present tasks, it will die.” He continues later: “Theology needs periodical rejuvenation. Its greatest danger is not mutilation but senility.” By this, one can assume he means that our view of God must keep changing in order to match or update an ancient God with our contemporary lifestyle. How does this fit with the statement of Hebrews 13:8 that says: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (ESV)? While it makes sense to translate Scripture in a way that most accurately relays truth to all living generations in need of hearing it, it does not make sense to take the Word of God and contort it in a way that pacifies the newest theologies of today’s secular society. This is a danger zone that Rauschenbusch dances around the edges of throughout many of his writings. Something that readers will see very early in A Theology for the Social Gospel is a scary threat of the study of God becoming extinct if we do not alter the very study in a way that it directs itself toward where culture wants to lead it. He says: “If theology stops growing or is unable to adjust itself to its modern environment and to meet its present tasks, it will die.” He continues, “the social gospel is a permanent addition to our spiritual outlook and its arrival constitutes a stage in the development of the Christian religion.”
I want to press into some of these introductory thoughts because some of the strongest sayings of the book lie in that very first chapter. His very accurate statement about young ministers and college students made in 1917 still rings true today. Rauschenbusch says:
Those who are in touch with the student population know what the impulse to social service means to college men and women. It is the most religious element in the life of many of them. Among ministerial students there is an almost impatient demand for a proper social outlet. Some hesitate to enter the regular ministry at all because they doubt whether it will offer them sufficient opportunity and freedom to utter and apply their social convictions.
He then punctuates this statement with the idea that, “Whoever wants to hold audiences of working people must establish some connection between religion and their social feelings and experiences.” Wow. This presents quite a tie between the stirring feeling of truth with a keen observation of young people and the speculation about a need for a philanthropic slant to the gospel. In an attempt to merge the thoughts from chapter one together, I would conclude Rauschenbusch believes that without coating the gospel with humanitarian deeds the desire for next generations to know and follow God will be dead.
One can see the extreme viewpoints presented here and hope that what Rauschenbusch means is that we should strive to carry out our faith in view of Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:19 that say: “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (ESV); however, it seems that the abundance of comments that are made throughout A Theology for the Social Gospel point to a belief that there is more than bearing good fruit to display inner regeneration. There is an undercurrent that says theology must change to follow society. What kind of god follows man? A manmade god. Again, on page five, Rauschenbusch puts the cart before the horse and says: “When the progress of humanity creates new tasks, such as world-wide missions, or problems, such as the social problem, theology must connect these with the old fundamentals of faith and make them Christian tasks and problems.” He is creating a benevolent work first and then turning to scripture to support this thing that has been declared a “must” of modern day Christian principle. Rather, a proper theology would start with the Word of God and determine what actions man should take. Lindsey wraps up this thought nicely:
The claim that the rise of the social sciences in the nineteenth century opens new room for Christian theology to discover the social significance of its soteriological affirmations is also central to such key social gospel texts as Rauschenbusch’s Theology of the Social Gospel. To a great extent, social gospel theology in the first decades of the twentieth century was an ‘unpacking’ of this important foundational claim.
Seriousness of Sin
Much of Rauschenbusch’s writing touches on the idea of human sin. This is no surprise as the goal of the social gospel is to redefine an ancient view of a never-changing God to meet the needs of modern society. Danny Akin in his textbook, A Theology for the Church, agrees: “The focus of the social gospel is upon the present-day struggles and problems of sin.”
Earlier in Rauschenbusch’s book, he says: “Paul frequently and anxiously defended his gospel against the charge that his principle of liberty invited lawlessness, and that under it a man might even sin the more in order to give grace the greater chance.” Never in the Bible does God say through any means that He encourages His people to sin so that He can show more grace. The Bible does, in contrast, say:
There is sin that leads to death; I do not say that one should pray for that. All wrongdoing is sin, but there is sin that does not lead to death. We know that everyone who has been born of God does not keep on sinning, but he who was born of God protects him. (1 John 5:16b-18a, ESV)
Rauschenbusch’s issue with Paul’s view of grace is clearly from Romans 6:1-2 that states: “What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?” (ESV) If Rauschenbusch believes these things about Paul’s letters, then he should affirm the truth that “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23, ESV)
So why does Rauschenbusch later in his book diminish the initial sin of man? He insinuates that old doctrines no longer carry the weight that the new social gospel requires of the Scriptures to breathe into modern society. Even going so far as to say that the fall of man in Genesis should pale in comparison to new sins that more recent forefathers have made. Rauschenbusch says:
…the doctrine of the fall does not seem to have as great an authority as it has long exercised…Theology has made the catastrophe of the fall so complete that any later addition to the inheritance of sin seems slight and negligible…Consequently theology has had little to say about the contributions which our forefathers have made to the sin and misery of mankind. The social gospel would rather reserve some blame for them.
This seems to go against all that the Bible teaches about the need for a Savior emanating from the fall of man in the garden. Without the fall, where does the line get drawn between Eden and post-fall earth? Akin also continues his critique of Rauschenbusch by stating:
In his formulation of the social gospel, Walter Rauschenbusch rejected the traditional, historical understanding of the fall in the garden of Eden. The intent of the Genesis account was not to provide an actual history of the entry of sin into the world but was rather to explain the entry of death and evil.
In addition, it is important to tie this view of sin in the middle of the book to the end of the book where Rauschenbusch diminishes the message of the cross—the saving atonement for our sins. Jesus said: “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor. 11:26, ESV). God wants us to remember the sacrifice made for our sins, not diminish His Son’s sacrifice. However, Rauschenbusch says: “To us sacrificing is a matter of antiquarian knowledge, kept alive mainly by the Bible.” In this way, he says that the sacrifice of God is old-fashioned and a fading picture of the price of the sins of humanity.
He continues: “The theory that the death of Christ was a ransom to Satan was the outgrowth of the semi-dualistic religion of the Empire and the prevalent belief in the rule of demons.” Couple this with Akin’s review that states: “Social Gospel advocates saw ‘hell’ as the agony of oppressive social structures, rather than as the punishment of God in an afterlife” and you have one very shaky idea of the consequences of sin and the extension of grace under the conflicting views of the social gospel.
Conclusion
Walter Rauschenbusch offers several theological theories for contemplation in A Theology for the Social Gospel, but none of the major points brought up here line up with Scripture. His main fault is the backward idea of wedding Scripture to movements of modern day reform, which sadly was the whole point of the social gospel movement. The correct way to look at the world is through the lens of Scripture, not the other way around (looking at Scripture through the lens of the modern world). Even one of Rauschenbusch’s colleagues said the following in a review of his work:
The final obstacle that [Shailer] Mathews finds confronting the sociological exegete is the presupposition that it is relatively easy to extract from the gospels prescriptions for social reform…such a presupposition fails to advert to significant exegetical considerations, including the historical context, dating, and intent of scriptural texts. Because much Christian sociology fails to broach important exegetical questions, it is for Mathews simply philanthropic sentimentalism decked out with scripture verses.
God is the same God as He was yesterday, today, and forever. How are we to offer the option to study Him through our own man-centered, human, physical needs? We are not to do so. We are to fear the Lord yet be in awe of the nonsensical truth that despite our fall He would call us His friends.
I believe there are many conflicting and defensive statements in Rauschenbusch’s book. In this review, I will seek to first highlight some of the history of the social gospel, and then provide some commentary on two points that resonated with me as I first read it. Overall, I believe that Rauschenbusch presents a very liberal case for how believers should consider theology, and I do not see evidence for all of his major thoughts in Scripture.
Brief History and Definition of the Social Gospel
What is the social gospel? The social gospel movement was basically an effort to incorporate Christian principles into society. In order to do this, one must get at the heart of Christianity, and that is accomplished through the study of God. Theology became a necessary tool in which leaders of the social gospel movement sought to determine the extent to which Christianity should direct society. William Lindsey, in Shailer Mathews’s Lives of Jesus, says: “Rauschenbusch is widely regarded as the social gospel theologian.” Lindsey states later in his work that there were three leading figures in the social gospel movement. In addition to Rauschenbusch, Samuel Zane Batten and Charles P. Henderson formed a group called “the Baptist Congress for the Discussion of Current Questions” in which he also cites was “an unofficial denominational forum” that met from 1892-1907.
An Ever-Changing Theology?
As he searched to define further the social gospel, Rauschenbusch came into a series of personal views about theology such as: “If theology stops growing or is unable to adjust itself to its modern environment and to meet its present tasks, it will die.” He continues later: “Theology needs periodical rejuvenation. Its greatest danger is not mutilation but senility.” By this, one can assume he means that our view of God must keep changing in order to match or update an ancient God with our contemporary lifestyle. How does this fit with the statement of Hebrews 13:8 that says: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (ESV)? While it makes sense to translate Scripture in a way that most accurately relays truth to all living generations in need of hearing it, it does not make sense to take the Word of God and contort it in a way that pacifies the newest theologies of today’s secular society. This is a danger zone that Rauschenbusch dances around the edges of throughout many of his writings. Something that readers will see very early in A Theology for the Social Gospel is a scary threat of the study of God becoming extinct if we do not alter the very study in a way that it directs itself toward where culture wants to lead it. He says: “If theology stops growing or is unable to adjust itself to its modern environment and to meet its present tasks, it will die.” He continues, “the social gospel is a permanent addition to our spiritual outlook and its arrival constitutes a stage in the development of the Christian religion.”
I want to press into some of these introductory thoughts because some of the strongest sayings of the book lie in that very first chapter. His very accurate statement about young ministers and college students made in 1917 still rings true today. Rauschenbusch says:
Those who are in touch with the student population know what the impulse to social service means to college men and women. It is the most religious element in the life of many of them. Among ministerial students there is an almost impatient demand for a proper social outlet. Some hesitate to enter the regular ministry at all because they doubt whether it will offer them sufficient opportunity and freedom to utter and apply their social convictions.
He then punctuates this statement with the idea that, “Whoever wants to hold audiences of working people must establish some connection between religion and their social feelings and experiences.” Wow. This presents quite a tie between the stirring feeling of truth with a keen observation of young people and the speculation about a need for a philanthropic slant to the gospel. In an attempt to merge the thoughts from chapter one together, I would conclude Rauschenbusch believes that without coating the gospel with humanitarian deeds the desire for next generations to know and follow God will be dead.
One can see the extreme viewpoints presented here and hope that what Rauschenbusch means is that we should strive to carry out our faith in view of Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:19 that say: “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (ESV); however, it seems that the abundance of comments that are made throughout A Theology for the Social Gospel point to a belief that there is more than bearing good fruit to display inner regeneration. There is an undercurrent that says theology must change to follow society. What kind of god follows man? A manmade god. Again, on page five, Rauschenbusch puts the cart before the horse and says: “When the progress of humanity creates new tasks, such as world-wide missions, or problems, such as the social problem, theology must connect these with the old fundamentals of faith and make them Christian tasks and problems.” He is creating a benevolent work first and then turning to scripture to support this thing that has been declared a “must” of modern day Christian principle. Rather, a proper theology would start with the Word of God and determine what actions man should take. Lindsey wraps up this thought nicely:
The claim that the rise of the social sciences in the nineteenth century opens new room for Christian theology to discover the social significance of its soteriological affirmations is also central to such key social gospel texts as Rauschenbusch’s Theology of the Social Gospel. To a great extent, social gospel theology in the first decades of the twentieth century was an ‘unpacking’ of this important foundational claim.
Seriousness of Sin
Much of Rauschenbusch’s writing touches on the idea of human sin. This is no surprise as the goal of the social gospel is to redefine an ancient view of a never-changing God to meet the needs of modern society. Danny Akin in his textbook, A Theology for the Church, agrees: “The focus of the social gospel is upon the present-day struggles and problems of sin.”
Earlier in Rauschenbusch’s book, he says: “Paul frequently and anxiously defended his gospel against the charge that his principle of liberty invited lawlessness, and that under it a man might even sin the more in order to give grace the greater chance.” Never in the Bible does God say through any means that He encourages His people to sin so that He can show more grace. The Bible does, in contrast, say:
There is sin that leads to death; I do not say that one should pray for that. All wrongdoing is sin, but there is sin that does not lead to death. We know that everyone who has been born of God does not keep on sinning, but he who was born of God protects him. (1 John 5:16b-18a, ESV)
Rauschenbusch’s issue with Paul’s view of grace is clearly from Romans 6:1-2 that states: “What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?” (ESV) If Rauschenbusch believes these things about Paul’s letters, then he should affirm the truth that “all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23, ESV)
So why does Rauschenbusch later in his book diminish the initial sin of man? He insinuates that old doctrines no longer carry the weight that the new social gospel requires of the Scriptures to breathe into modern society. Even going so far as to say that the fall of man in Genesis should pale in comparison to new sins that more recent forefathers have made. Rauschenbusch says:
…the doctrine of the fall does not seem to have as great an authority as it has long exercised…Theology has made the catastrophe of the fall so complete that any later addition to the inheritance of sin seems slight and negligible…Consequently theology has had little to say about the contributions which our forefathers have made to the sin and misery of mankind. The social gospel would rather reserve some blame for them.
This seems to go against all that the Bible teaches about the need for a Savior emanating from the fall of man in the garden. Without the fall, where does the line get drawn between Eden and post-fall earth? Akin also continues his critique of Rauschenbusch by stating:
In his formulation of the social gospel, Walter Rauschenbusch rejected the traditional, historical understanding of the fall in the garden of Eden. The intent of the Genesis account was not to provide an actual history of the entry of sin into the world but was rather to explain the entry of death and evil.
In addition, it is important to tie this view of sin in the middle of the book to the end of the book where Rauschenbusch diminishes the message of the cross—the saving atonement for our sins. Jesus said: “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor. 11:26, ESV). God wants us to remember the sacrifice made for our sins, not diminish His Son’s sacrifice. However, Rauschenbusch says: “To us sacrificing is a matter of antiquarian knowledge, kept alive mainly by the Bible.” In this way, he says that the sacrifice of God is old-fashioned and a fading picture of the price of the sins of humanity.
He continues: “The theory that the death of Christ was a ransom to Satan was the outgrowth of the semi-dualistic religion of the Empire and the prevalent belief in the rule of demons.” Couple this with Akin’s review that states: “Social Gospel advocates saw ‘hell’ as the agony of oppressive social structures, rather than as the punishment of God in an afterlife” and you have one very shaky idea of the consequences of sin and the extension of grace under the conflicting views of the social gospel.
Conclusion
Walter Rauschenbusch offers several theological theories for contemplation in A Theology for the Social Gospel, but none of the major points brought up here line up with Scripture. His main fault is the backward idea of wedding Scripture to movements of modern day reform, which sadly was the whole point of the social gospel movement. The correct way to look at the world is through the lens of Scripture, not the other way around (looking at Scripture through the lens of the modern world). Even one of Rauschenbusch’s colleagues said the following in a review of his work:
The final obstacle that [Shailer] Mathews finds confronting the sociological exegete is the presupposition that it is relatively easy to extract from the gospels prescriptions for social reform…such a presupposition fails to advert to significant exegetical considerations, including the historical context, dating, and intent of scriptural texts. Because much Christian sociology fails to broach important exegetical questions, it is for Mathews simply philanthropic sentimentalism decked out with scripture verses.
God is the same God as He was yesterday, today, and forever. How are we to offer the option to study Him through our own man-centered, human, physical needs? We are not to do so. We are to fear the Lord yet be in awe of the nonsensical truth that despite our fall He would call us His friends.
May 24, 2021
Rauschenbusch presents a rousing depiction of the social gospel, which finds the Kingdom of God to be at the heart of Jesus’s message. He contrasts the Kingdom with the Church, arguing that the latter quickly came to usurp its prominence among Christian theology in ways that prioritized worship, dogma, and individualistic understandings of sin and salvation. Drawing from Jesus’s life and message, the social gospel expands the concept of sin as not just an affront to God, but to one’s common man, and something that is most dire in contexts of injustice where systemic selfishness runs rampant to the detriment of the masses. This poses the most substantial threat to the ongoing realization of the Kingdom of God, which is a realm of love and a commonwealth of labor, and the primary task of Christians to participate in ushering in today. I thought it was DOPE AS HELL!
Truly, throughout my reading, I could not believe this was written in 1918! The vast majority feels just as relevant for today as it was then...which is depressing both because of how it illuminates how little has changed, and how unwilling the church has been to heed its message. Regardless, I was struck throughout by Rauschenbusch's incisive foresight, particularly the prediction that the American church would amble into irrelevancy if it settled for an increasingly privatized sphere of influence that did not seek the welfare of the common man. I did, however, find the first half to be stronger than the second. It offers a more focused establishment of the -need- for the social gospel and its immediate implications for the church in relation to the Kingdom of God and the kingdom of evil. The second half effectively demonstrated his sense of how it impacted our theodicy, eschatology, and atonement, but these felt a bit more rushed and disconnected from the heart of his argument to me. The other notable weakness was around race –– not just his general failure to emphasize the intersecting struggles against Americans of color in particular at the time, but also some of his flippant engagement with Jewish identity and religion.
It's funny because I can remember a lot of hand-wringing about Rauschenbusch and more specifically "the social gospel" as this watered down dilution of the -real- Gospel, and the entire time reading the book I was just seething about how mainstream American Christianity has overwhelming accepted this false dichotomy. Rasuchenbusch has harsh critique against a complicit and complacent church that has accepted its relegation to the concerns of piety in the face of unprecedented social suffering and class disparity...but I don't see him "abandoning the Gospel" here as so many are quick to accuse him of. The main divergence is his argument against substitution atonement theories, but even his replacement still struck me as different from other liberal Protestant re-imaginings as it maintained affirmation of Christ's divinity. Along those lines, people like to say that the social gospel doesn't take sin seriously, and if you'd read it he is quite clear about the severity of its grip on humanity, only he directs our eyes to the wider horizons to recognizing the expansiveness of suffering it causes at a systemic level too. Ultimately, his centering of solidarity as the core of Christ's mission and humanity's call is some of the most compelling theology I've read, and such a devastatingly needed corrective to the individualistic, privatized, segregated church of today.
Truly, throughout my reading, I could not believe this was written in 1918! The vast majority feels just as relevant for today as it was then...which is depressing both because of how it illuminates how little has changed, and how unwilling the church has been to heed its message. Regardless, I was struck throughout by Rauschenbusch's incisive foresight, particularly the prediction that the American church would amble into irrelevancy if it settled for an increasingly privatized sphere of influence that did not seek the welfare of the common man. I did, however, find the first half to be stronger than the second. It offers a more focused establishment of the -need- for the social gospel and its immediate implications for the church in relation to the Kingdom of God and the kingdom of evil. The second half effectively demonstrated his sense of how it impacted our theodicy, eschatology, and atonement, but these felt a bit more rushed and disconnected from the heart of his argument to me. The other notable weakness was around race –– not just his general failure to emphasize the intersecting struggles against Americans of color in particular at the time, but also some of his flippant engagement with Jewish identity and religion.
It's funny because I can remember a lot of hand-wringing about Rauschenbusch and more specifically "the social gospel" as this watered down dilution of the -real- Gospel, and the entire time reading the book I was just seething about how mainstream American Christianity has overwhelming accepted this false dichotomy. Rasuchenbusch has harsh critique against a complicit and complacent church that has accepted its relegation to the concerns of piety in the face of unprecedented social suffering and class disparity...but I don't see him "abandoning the Gospel" here as so many are quick to accuse him of. The main divergence is his argument against substitution atonement theories, but even his replacement still struck me as different from other liberal Protestant re-imaginings as it maintained affirmation of Christ's divinity. Along those lines, people like to say that the social gospel doesn't take sin seriously, and if you'd read it he is quite clear about the severity of its grip on humanity, only he directs our eyes to the wider horizons to recognizing the expansiveness of suffering it causes at a systemic level too. Ultimately, his centering of solidarity as the core of Christ's mission and humanity's call is some of the most compelling theology I've read, and such a devastatingly needed corrective to the individualistic, privatized, segregated church of today.
April 12, 2021
Une théologie pour l'évangile social est l'ultime livre écrit par Walter Rauschenbusch, figure majeure de l'évangile social. C'est une sorte de présentation et systématisation de l'évangile social à destination des évangéliques américains du début du 20e siècle.
Le livre est divisé en 19 chapitres qu'on peut grouper en trois parties: 1. Des prolégomènes, où il expose la nécessité de développer un évangile social, et en quoi il n'est pas dangereux pour l'évangile tout court (chaps 1-3) 2. L'hamartiologie, où la doctrine du péché selon l'évangile social est expliquée longuement (chapitres 4-9) 3. La sotériologie, où l'on explique de quel salut on parle dans l'évangile social, et comment il est mis en oeuvre (chapitre 10-13) 4. Autres locis, où il explique ce que l'évangile social change en Christologie, théologie proper, pneumatologie, sacramentologie, eschatologie, et théorie de l'expiation (théorie morale) (chaps 14-19)
L'objectif est atteint, et l'on comprend très clairement le contenu de cette école de libéralisme théologique. On comprend même les racines et fondements de celle-ci. Une très bonne lecture si jamais vous ne devez lire qu'un seul livre sur l'évangile social.
Le livre est divisé en 19 chapitres qu'on peut grouper en trois parties: 1. Des prolégomènes, où il expose la nécessité de développer un évangile social, et en quoi il n'est pas dangereux pour l'évangile tout court (chaps 1-3) 2. L'hamartiologie, où la doctrine du péché selon l'évangile social est expliquée longuement (chapitres 4-9) 3. La sotériologie, où l'on explique de quel salut on parle dans l'évangile social, et comment il est mis en oeuvre (chapitre 10-13) 4. Autres locis, où il explique ce que l'évangile social change en Christologie, théologie proper, pneumatologie, sacramentologie, eschatologie, et théorie de l'expiation (théorie morale) (chaps 14-19)
L'objectif est atteint, et l'on comprend très clairement le contenu de cette école de libéralisme théologique. On comprend même les racines et fondements de celle-ci. Une très bonne lecture si jamais vous ne devez lire qu'un seul livre sur l'évangile social.
July 15, 2023
Just a reminder to read those your circle claim as the boogey-man. Not as bad as Machen would’ve wanted you to think. Some of this theology is really…really bad, but his passion to see the gospel display in Rochester and around the world is pretty darn inspiring. As church history prof and Rochesterian I regret it took me this long to read.
Also, apologies to CN whose attempts to maneuver political power for culture is even more “social gospel” they so adamantly detest than their complaints against the efforts of the “woke.” Whoops. Apologies for the honesty. 😜
Also, apologies to CN whose attempts to maneuver political power for culture is even more “social gospel” they so adamantly detest than their complaints against the efforts of the “woke.” Whoops. Apologies for the honesty. 😜
May 7, 2025
“The social gospel needs a theology to make it effective; but theology needs the social gospel to vitalize it” (1). This is the goal of Walter Rauschenbush’s (1861–1918) A Theology for the Social Gospel. First delivered as the 1917 Taylor Lectures at Yale and then published as a volume the same year, this work presents a full-integration of the social gospel into traditional systematic theology categories. As such, it is an exemplary model of modern optimistic theology at the beginning of the 20th century.
Even though Rauschenbush criticizes systematic theology for being overly individualistic and impractical, he nonetheless sees his project of integrating the social gospel and theology as constructive, not destructive (11). Such sentiment is at best superficial, however, since he fully affirms the necessity of removing any beliefs deemed scientifically impossible from obligatory status for the Christian faith. Even if this is the cost of integrating theology and the social gospel, Rauschenbush argues, it is actually to the benefit of theology because it updates the relevance of theology to contemporary Christians, making it less of a burden to understand. A related premise that Rauschenbush relies upon regarding this is the now outmoded claim of Harnack, namely that the development of Christian doctrine is simply a development towards and in Hellenization. Additionally, a major component of the renewal of relevance of theology is the role of ethics; Rauschenbush consistently divides ritual and ethics in his thought, finding supreme worth in the latter. The social gospel reinvigorates Christian theology to be ethically oriented towards the social plights of the world. The acknowledgment of modern social plights inevitably requires the recognition of collective responsibility and systematic oppression. Rauschenbush posits a provocative question in light of this: “Does Calvinism deal adequately with a man who appears before the judgment seat of Christ with $50,000,000 and its human corollaries to his credit, and then pleads a free pardon through faith in the atoning sacrifice?” (19). The provocation may be due to over-simplicity, but it does press upon the reader to reflect on his or her engagement with the social outcasts and impoverished.
In all of this, Rauschenbush grounds theology on religious experience, a premise that fits well with his biography, having lived in “Hell’s Kitchen” in New York. This is a significant common denominator in social orientations to Christian theology; lived experience in a particular social context takes on revelatory authority. This point is especially apparent in liberation theology.
Rauschenbush further contends that the social gospel is neither novel nor alien to Christian theology; it was the original message of Jesus as he preached the kingdom of God. As such, salvation is not a matter merely about the afterlife, but one that impacts the social dimensions of everyday life for everyone today. In a strange way, then Rauschenbush saw his own project as simultaneously updating theology for contemporary contexts but also as returning to the most ancient and original message of the Christian faith!
After these opening chapters on prolegomena, Rauschenbush begins his treatment of various theological loci, but these are specifically curated as those which would be affected by the social gospel. “On some of the more speculative doctrines the social gospel has no contribution to make” (31). The “earthy” doctrines that the social gospel addresses, therefore, primarily concern sin and redemption. The loci proceed as follows: the consciousness of sin, the fall of man, the nature of sin, the transmission of sin, the super-personal forces of evil, the kingdom of evil, the social gospel and personal salvation, the kingdom of God, the initiator of the kingdom, the social gospel and the conception of God, the Holy Spirit, revelation, inspiration, and prophecy, baptism and the Lord’s Supper, eschatology, and the atonement.
All throughout this treatment we find the common elements of liberal 19th and 20th century theology, such as the reliance upon the higher criticism on the Bible, the adoption of Darwinian evolution, the separation between Jesus and Paul, conceptions of God are purely sociological constructions, and more. These components of liberalism manifest in different ways, some more dangerous than others. The most explicitly heinous suggestions that Rauschenbush makes, for example, is that “we shall not be doing our thinking in a Christian way until we agree that productive labor according to the ability of each is one of ‘the conditions of salvation’” (56). Although there may be a way to interpret this statement to mean that Rauschenbush is contending for industry being a necessary evidence of salvation, the more immediate reading is that he incorporates social labor as necessary for Christian salvation. Another example is found in his explicitly pragmatic understanding of sanctification: “those who believe in the social gospel can share in any methods for the cultivation of the spiritual life” (102). Little is there here of any Christian distinction for the spiritual life, much less of any regulation concerning worship and doctrine. Pure social results are the sole object and goal of sanctification.
Space constrains us to analyze and evaluate each head of doctrine that is addressed in this work, but we can easily summarize it by noting that every loci is altered to conform to the social understanding of the kingdom of God. Rauschenbush is explicit in his centralization of the doctrine: “if theology is to offer an adequate doctrinal basis for the social gospel, it must not only make trim for the doctrine of the Kingdom of God, but give it a central place and revise all other doctrines so that they will articulate organically with it” (131). Such revision is clearly evident: the life and power of the church is contingent upon the presence of the kingdom of God in it, salvation is definitionally oriented towards the present social realm, spiritual warfare is redefined as combat with super-personal forces like corporations and nations. One can also clearly discern the acceptance of Schleiermacher’s christology in this work.
One dubious line of thinking that appears early in Rauschenbush’s treatment on the fall is the notion that a doctrine’s truthfulness or significance directly corresponds to its quantitative appearance in the Bible. Rauschenbush applies this method directly to the fall, arguing that since it only appears in the opening chapters of Genesis, a few times in Jesus’s teaching, and finally emphasized in Paul’s teachings, it cannot actually be all that important for genuine Christianity. Theology has made a bigger deal of it, and thus it has actually hindered the development of the consciousness of sin in contemporary society. The problems with this argument should be obvious: when does quantitative become qualitative? How many instances of a teaching need to appear in order for it to be deemed important? Such a number is no doubt arbitrary. Moreover, one can substitute Rauschenbush’s entire argument against the doctrine of the fall to the doctrine of the image of God. Beat for beat, the image of God is a concept that virtually only appears in the early chapters of Genesis and then reappears in the teachings of Paul. By his own standard, Rauschenbush would have to concede that “if the substance of Scriptural thought, the constant and integral trend of biblical convictions, is the authoritative element in the Bible, the doctrine of [the imago Dei] does not seem to have as great an authority as it has long exercised” (42).
Furthermore, although Rauschenbush demonstrates familiarity with major theologians and their works throughout church history, he seems to either be ignorant of or caricature many points. For example, when he characterizes the traditional understanding of sin as “monarchical,” he gives the impression that traditional theology has neglected social and relational sins. A cursory examination of the Westminster Larger Catechism’s treatment on the Ten Commandments can quickly put this point to rest. Additionally, Rauschenbush’s rehearsal of popular objections to total depravity are so cringeworthy that it leaves the impression that he has never seriously engaged with robust expositions of Reformed theology. Examples like this abound; in the end, Rauschenbush comes off more of a passionate rhetorician than an erudite theologian.
Criticisms can abound further, but such criticisms need not be given because first they already were as the modernist-fundamentalist controversy continued. Indeed, reading this work makes Machen’s Christianity and Liberalism all the more significant, for this is the liberalism that Machen targets. Second, the theology, and perhaps more important, the theological tone of this work would be short-lived as World War I and World War II would go on to devastate theological and social optimism in the way that Rauschenbush articulates it. The spreading of God-consciousness and solidarity would soon be replaced with existential angst and the pursuit to make one’s own meaning, and inevitably, one’s own god.
Even though Rauschenbush criticizes systematic theology for being overly individualistic and impractical, he nonetheless sees his project of integrating the social gospel and theology as constructive, not destructive (11). Such sentiment is at best superficial, however, since he fully affirms the necessity of removing any beliefs deemed scientifically impossible from obligatory status for the Christian faith. Even if this is the cost of integrating theology and the social gospel, Rauschenbush argues, it is actually to the benefit of theology because it updates the relevance of theology to contemporary Christians, making it less of a burden to understand. A related premise that Rauschenbush relies upon regarding this is the now outmoded claim of Harnack, namely that the development of Christian doctrine is simply a development towards and in Hellenization. Additionally, a major component of the renewal of relevance of theology is the role of ethics; Rauschenbush consistently divides ritual and ethics in his thought, finding supreme worth in the latter. The social gospel reinvigorates Christian theology to be ethically oriented towards the social plights of the world. The acknowledgment of modern social plights inevitably requires the recognition of collective responsibility and systematic oppression. Rauschenbush posits a provocative question in light of this: “Does Calvinism deal adequately with a man who appears before the judgment seat of Christ with $50,000,000 and its human corollaries to his credit, and then pleads a free pardon through faith in the atoning sacrifice?” (19). The provocation may be due to over-simplicity, but it does press upon the reader to reflect on his or her engagement with the social outcasts and impoverished.
In all of this, Rauschenbush grounds theology on religious experience, a premise that fits well with his biography, having lived in “Hell’s Kitchen” in New York. This is a significant common denominator in social orientations to Christian theology; lived experience in a particular social context takes on revelatory authority. This point is especially apparent in liberation theology.
Rauschenbush further contends that the social gospel is neither novel nor alien to Christian theology; it was the original message of Jesus as he preached the kingdom of God. As such, salvation is not a matter merely about the afterlife, but one that impacts the social dimensions of everyday life for everyone today. In a strange way, then Rauschenbush saw his own project as simultaneously updating theology for contemporary contexts but also as returning to the most ancient and original message of the Christian faith!
After these opening chapters on prolegomena, Rauschenbush begins his treatment of various theological loci, but these are specifically curated as those which would be affected by the social gospel. “On some of the more speculative doctrines the social gospel has no contribution to make” (31). The “earthy” doctrines that the social gospel addresses, therefore, primarily concern sin and redemption. The loci proceed as follows: the consciousness of sin, the fall of man, the nature of sin, the transmission of sin, the super-personal forces of evil, the kingdom of evil, the social gospel and personal salvation, the kingdom of God, the initiator of the kingdom, the social gospel and the conception of God, the Holy Spirit, revelation, inspiration, and prophecy, baptism and the Lord’s Supper, eschatology, and the atonement.
All throughout this treatment we find the common elements of liberal 19th and 20th century theology, such as the reliance upon the higher criticism on the Bible, the adoption of Darwinian evolution, the separation between Jesus and Paul, conceptions of God are purely sociological constructions, and more. These components of liberalism manifest in different ways, some more dangerous than others. The most explicitly heinous suggestions that Rauschenbush makes, for example, is that “we shall not be doing our thinking in a Christian way until we agree that productive labor according to the ability of each is one of ‘the conditions of salvation’” (56). Although there may be a way to interpret this statement to mean that Rauschenbush is contending for industry being a necessary evidence of salvation, the more immediate reading is that he incorporates social labor as necessary for Christian salvation. Another example is found in his explicitly pragmatic understanding of sanctification: “those who believe in the social gospel can share in any methods for the cultivation of the spiritual life” (102). Little is there here of any Christian distinction for the spiritual life, much less of any regulation concerning worship and doctrine. Pure social results are the sole object and goal of sanctification.
Space constrains us to analyze and evaluate each head of doctrine that is addressed in this work, but we can easily summarize it by noting that every loci is altered to conform to the social understanding of the kingdom of God. Rauschenbush is explicit in his centralization of the doctrine: “if theology is to offer an adequate doctrinal basis for the social gospel, it must not only make trim for the doctrine of the Kingdom of God, but give it a central place and revise all other doctrines so that they will articulate organically with it” (131). Such revision is clearly evident: the life and power of the church is contingent upon the presence of the kingdom of God in it, salvation is definitionally oriented towards the present social realm, spiritual warfare is redefined as combat with super-personal forces like corporations and nations. One can also clearly discern the acceptance of Schleiermacher’s christology in this work.
One dubious line of thinking that appears early in Rauschenbush’s treatment on the fall is the notion that a doctrine’s truthfulness or significance directly corresponds to its quantitative appearance in the Bible. Rauschenbush applies this method directly to the fall, arguing that since it only appears in the opening chapters of Genesis, a few times in Jesus’s teaching, and finally emphasized in Paul’s teachings, it cannot actually be all that important for genuine Christianity. Theology has made a bigger deal of it, and thus it has actually hindered the development of the consciousness of sin in contemporary society. The problems with this argument should be obvious: when does quantitative become qualitative? How many instances of a teaching need to appear in order for it to be deemed important? Such a number is no doubt arbitrary. Moreover, one can substitute Rauschenbush’s entire argument against the doctrine of the fall to the doctrine of the image of God. Beat for beat, the image of God is a concept that virtually only appears in the early chapters of Genesis and then reappears in the teachings of Paul. By his own standard, Rauschenbush would have to concede that “if the substance of Scriptural thought, the constant and integral trend of biblical convictions, is the authoritative element in the Bible, the doctrine of [the imago Dei] does not seem to have as great an authority as it has long exercised” (42).
Furthermore, although Rauschenbush demonstrates familiarity with major theologians and their works throughout church history, he seems to either be ignorant of or caricature many points. For example, when he characterizes the traditional understanding of sin as “monarchical,” he gives the impression that traditional theology has neglected social and relational sins. A cursory examination of the Westminster Larger Catechism’s treatment on the Ten Commandments can quickly put this point to rest. Additionally, Rauschenbush’s rehearsal of popular objections to total depravity are so cringeworthy that it leaves the impression that he has never seriously engaged with robust expositions of Reformed theology. Examples like this abound; in the end, Rauschenbush comes off more of a passionate rhetorician than an erudite theologian.
Criticisms can abound further, but such criticisms need not be given because first they already were as the modernist-fundamentalist controversy continued. Indeed, reading this work makes Machen’s Christianity and Liberalism all the more significant, for this is the liberalism that Machen targets. Second, the theology, and perhaps more important, the theological tone of this work would be short-lived as World War I and World War II would go on to devastate theological and social optimism in the way that Rauschenbush articulates it. The spreading of God-consciousness and solidarity would soon be replaced with existential angst and the pursuit to make one’s own meaning, and inevitably, one’s own god.
July 3, 2021
I just finished "A Theology For The Social Gospel," by Walter Rauschenbusch.
When reading this I had to keep the writers context in mind: this was written in 1919 after WWI. The modern era of theology (1800 -- ) started off by thinking everything is going great. WWI ended in 1918. The only thing great about the Great War was its size. In light of modern theology and the reality of the war, I want to see how this impacts how he writes. If I remember correct he died after writing it, and it was published posthumously in 1920. Also, that his roots are Anabaptist.
He states that we have often seen sin and salvation as an individualistic endeavor. He is suggesting that sin is corporate: committed by structures or institutions, and also the individuals within them.
"The social gospel seeks to bring men under repentance for their collective sins and to create a more sensitive and more modern conscience," p 5.
Where I have a problem is that structuring society as a stand alone thing ignores that society are just humans. And if just humans together then it doesnt become a different kind of "thing." Or what delineates between many humans and society? It is an umbrella term here, it seems, to hide the sins of the many under a new and anonymous face named "society." One can claim alliance, or not, depending on if society did good or ill.
But I like this quote:
"Every generation tries to put its doctrine on a high shelf where the children can not reach it," p 10.
"[Theology's] greatest danger is not mutilation but senility. It is strong and vital when it expresses inarge reasonings what youthful religion feels and thinks. When people have to be indoctrinated laboriously in order to understand theology at all, it becomes a death burden, " p 12-13
"Our reverence for [the Patristic church/fathers] is a kind of ancestor worship," p 13.
"A man may tote a large load of theology and live on a small part of it," p 16.
He sees that just how theology has pushed Latin -- as the language of theological dialogue and script -- out of academia for the most part, they now have to adapt a theology of "social redemption." No doubt my apolitical stance (philosophically) colors my bias against communal sin. He will have to flesh that out some more.
He reflects post enlightenment thinking and bridges the gap between elimination of the personhood of evil and where liberation theology ended up. I dont disagree with what traditionally has been called good works, it is one of the signs of a believer but the demythologizing of scripture for the purpose of good works is very dangerous: its Atheism through the back door.
It seems my disdain for his communal sin is that it makes the evil done (sin) have no face, or point of origin. It is more of a pervasive current wrong that hangs in the air of things that are currently acceptable. When taken at face value scriptural one can see that sin is committed individually and accepted communally when enough individuals commit it.
"The doctrine of the kingdom of God was left undeveloped by individualistic theology and finally mislaid by it almost completely, because it did not support or fit in with that scheme of doctrine," p 25.
That I fully agree with.
In speaking about sin he says that sins against God have lost much meaning since [my words] our enlightened view has removed the concept of other gods and our modern society places no credence in taking His name in vain. So what we are really left with are sins against man. I believe much of his theology is propped up on the modernization of society.
"[Sin], favors institutions and laws which permit unrestricted exploitation and accumulation," p 54.
Who, I wonder, would set the benchmark for restricted accumulation? Nice words I guess but he is drawing no distinction for a mechanism which regulates justly. I have two cars, is that one too many? Why? Who says it isnone too many? Why should I listen to another opinion on vehicle accumulation? Why are they the final arbitrator on car count? Ho did they get that status? Should they take my extra car and give it to someone else? How is that not stealing? Political philosophy is not his strong suit. Econ, I would think, less so.
"Intoxication, like profanity and tattooing, is one of the universal Mark's of barbarism," p 62.
For a Protestant liberal his stance on tattoos is antiquated. Henceforth I am going by my street name, Steve the Barbarian.
The gospel holds the cure for sin and death and the gospel should always be proclaimed to the sinner. Since this is the case, and the gospel has to be proclaimed to a sinner (individual) then the sin has to be likewise individual. The gospel has to go beyond society to society's source: the individuals if it to impact what the totality of mankind is.
This guy is a bit odd. It seems he drank very deeply from the well of of the Anabaptists by the way he talks about the kingdom of evil, and toMarx and Proudhon. My only guess is he is an Anarcho-Syndicalist. He dislikes state and its mechanism. But he also hates capitalism. Their problem is the only way you can support anti-capitalism is through the initial establishment of a state. Capitalism is the state of nature.
"A religious experience is not Christian unless it binds us closer to men and commits us more.deeply to the kingdom of God," p 105.
I agree with that (I'm trying to throw this book a bone and show some of its solid content).
I believe the biggest problem is that he isnt and hasn't drawn a line between "this is the way it should be for how the lost and saved interact" or "saved and saved interact in community." If one critiques capitalism and posits cooperatives as a viable replacement, as he is, I want to know if you are suggesting a model of governance or an opt-in community of believers bound together via Jesus and the coming Kingdom. I am waiting for him to say "property is theft" as seems fitting for his economic disposition.
He speaks so frequently about democracy you would think he believes he lives in one. This is the modern day bait and switch.
His chapter (13) on the kingdom was very good. But following chapters seem to take an anti-intellectual approach, almost to the point of why should one bother contemplating the divine side of the hypostatic union.
I see why this book was the bane of 20th century evangelicalism: he basically baptized the "peaceful" red October.
While not ground breaking today, I can agree with his concept of interpretation. It retires the concept of divine dictation, as though the writer was a pen holder and ink bleeder, and takes into account the person of the writer, their history and their personality as formed by their community.
His chapter on and suggestions of modification for the lords supper and baptism I can agree with. The supper has in many places become a cult ritual. Lets discuss this more deeply after we have reinstalled a meal where Kingdom people come together -- bread and wine -- to talk life while remembering the Lord, and also looking onto the horizon of His return. Also, Kingdom people dont wait till Sunday to do this, organically it is the way life happens daily. Let's get back there to "as often as you" can.
Baptism, with the early churches initiation of infant baptism (not modern but early, noting that few hold that a child is damned sans baptism today), it has too lost meaning in many quarters.
His eschatology is all over the place. I'd call it premillennial reincarnation. He steps on his own toes. His thinking is not coherent nor systematic. While I'll give him props for his work on the Kingdom and the Sacraments, dude said "Karma." Come on, Karma? May Kali slap him around with her six hands. I'll finish the book because I have 40 pages to go. Hes fortunate eschatology (usually) comes at the end.
Other than his theological excursion to Bombay, his eschatology was creative and very interesting.
He finishes the book with the atonement. My guess is this is where he takes the most liberty. His model of the atonement is not too far out there. Very moral influence in its base. What I will say is that you can see the Anabaptist in him when he says that the atonement can not be separated from Christs teachings. I agree.
All in all: he loves communism. I liked some and hated other parts.
When reading this I had to keep the writers context in mind: this was written in 1919 after WWI. The modern era of theology (1800 -- ) started off by thinking everything is going great. WWI ended in 1918. The only thing great about the Great War was its size. In light of modern theology and the reality of the war, I want to see how this impacts how he writes. If I remember correct he died after writing it, and it was published posthumously in 1920. Also, that his roots are Anabaptist.
He states that we have often seen sin and salvation as an individualistic endeavor. He is suggesting that sin is corporate: committed by structures or institutions, and also the individuals within them.
"The social gospel seeks to bring men under repentance for their collective sins and to create a more sensitive and more modern conscience," p 5.
Where I have a problem is that structuring society as a stand alone thing ignores that society are just humans. And if just humans together then it doesnt become a different kind of "thing." Or what delineates between many humans and society? It is an umbrella term here, it seems, to hide the sins of the many under a new and anonymous face named "society." One can claim alliance, or not, depending on if society did good or ill.
But I like this quote:
"Every generation tries to put its doctrine on a high shelf where the children can not reach it," p 10.
"[Theology's] greatest danger is not mutilation but senility. It is strong and vital when it expresses inarge reasonings what youthful religion feels and thinks. When people have to be indoctrinated laboriously in order to understand theology at all, it becomes a death burden, " p 12-13
"Our reverence for [the Patristic church/fathers] is a kind of ancestor worship," p 13.
"A man may tote a large load of theology and live on a small part of it," p 16.
He sees that just how theology has pushed Latin -- as the language of theological dialogue and script -- out of academia for the most part, they now have to adapt a theology of "social redemption." No doubt my apolitical stance (philosophically) colors my bias against communal sin. He will have to flesh that out some more.
He reflects post enlightenment thinking and bridges the gap between elimination of the personhood of evil and where liberation theology ended up. I dont disagree with what traditionally has been called good works, it is one of the signs of a believer but the demythologizing of scripture for the purpose of good works is very dangerous: its Atheism through the back door.
It seems my disdain for his communal sin is that it makes the evil done (sin) have no face, or point of origin. It is more of a pervasive current wrong that hangs in the air of things that are currently acceptable. When taken at face value scriptural one can see that sin is committed individually and accepted communally when enough individuals commit it.
"The doctrine of the kingdom of God was left undeveloped by individualistic theology and finally mislaid by it almost completely, because it did not support or fit in with that scheme of doctrine," p 25.
That I fully agree with.
In speaking about sin he says that sins against God have lost much meaning since [my words] our enlightened view has removed the concept of other gods and our modern society places no credence in taking His name in vain. So what we are really left with are sins against man. I believe much of his theology is propped up on the modernization of society.
"[Sin], favors institutions and laws which permit unrestricted exploitation and accumulation," p 54.
Who, I wonder, would set the benchmark for restricted accumulation? Nice words I guess but he is drawing no distinction for a mechanism which regulates justly. I have two cars, is that one too many? Why? Who says it isnone too many? Why should I listen to another opinion on vehicle accumulation? Why are they the final arbitrator on car count? Ho did they get that status? Should they take my extra car and give it to someone else? How is that not stealing? Political philosophy is not his strong suit. Econ, I would think, less so.
"Intoxication, like profanity and tattooing, is one of the universal Mark's of barbarism," p 62.
For a Protestant liberal his stance on tattoos is antiquated. Henceforth I am going by my street name, Steve the Barbarian.
The gospel holds the cure for sin and death and the gospel should always be proclaimed to the sinner. Since this is the case, and the gospel has to be proclaimed to a sinner (individual) then the sin has to be likewise individual. The gospel has to go beyond society to society's source: the individuals if it to impact what the totality of mankind is.
This guy is a bit odd. It seems he drank very deeply from the well of of the Anabaptists by the way he talks about the kingdom of evil, and toMarx and Proudhon. My only guess is he is an Anarcho-Syndicalist. He dislikes state and its mechanism. But he also hates capitalism. Their problem is the only way you can support anti-capitalism is through the initial establishment of a state. Capitalism is the state of nature.
"A religious experience is not Christian unless it binds us closer to men and commits us more.deeply to the kingdom of God," p 105.
I agree with that (I'm trying to throw this book a bone and show some of its solid content).
I believe the biggest problem is that he isnt and hasn't drawn a line between "this is the way it should be for how the lost and saved interact" or "saved and saved interact in community." If one critiques capitalism and posits cooperatives as a viable replacement, as he is, I want to know if you are suggesting a model of governance or an opt-in community of believers bound together via Jesus and the coming Kingdom. I am waiting for him to say "property is theft" as seems fitting for his economic disposition.
He speaks so frequently about democracy you would think he believes he lives in one. This is the modern day bait and switch.
His chapter (13) on the kingdom was very good. But following chapters seem to take an anti-intellectual approach, almost to the point of why should one bother contemplating the divine side of the hypostatic union.
I see why this book was the bane of 20th century evangelicalism: he basically baptized the "peaceful" red October.
While not ground breaking today, I can agree with his concept of interpretation. It retires the concept of divine dictation, as though the writer was a pen holder and ink bleeder, and takes into account the person of the writer, their history and their personality as formed by their community.
His chapter on and suggestions of modification for the lords supper and baptism I can agree with. The supper has in many places become a cult ritual. Lets discuss this more deeply after we have reinstalled a meal where Kingdom people come together -- bread and wine -- to talk life while remembering the Lord, and also looking onto the horizon of His return. Also, Kingdom people dont wait till Sunday to do this, organically it is the way life happens daily. Let's get back there to "as often as you" can.
Baptism, with the early churches initiation of infant baptism (not modern but early, noting that few hold that a child is damned sans baptism today), it has too lost meaning in many quarters.
His eschatology is all over the place. I'd call it premillennial reincarnation. He steps on his own toes. His thinking is not coherent nor systematic. While I'll give him props for his work on the Kingdom and the Sacraments, dude said "Karma." Come on, Karma? May Kali slap him around with her six hands. I'll finish the book because I have 40 pages to go. Hes fortunate eschatology (usually) comes at the end.
Other than his theological excursion to Bombay, his eschatology was creative and very interesting.
He finishes the book with the atonement. My guess is this is where he takes the most liberty. His model of the atonement is not too far out there. Very moral influence in its base. What I will say is that you can see the Anabaptist in him when he says that the atonement can not be separated from Christs teachings. I agree.
All in all: he loves communism. I liked some and hated other parts.
July 1, 2020
The author's final work; a systematic exploration of the "social gospel" as formulated in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and its relationship to "traditional" formulations of faith and doctrine prevalent in churches of the time.
I was going in and expecting to find much disagreement. The author was very much enraptured with positivist postmillennial progressivism, and most of my criticism derives from those assumptions. But Rauschenbusch is not easily or glibly dismissible; his critiques of the institutionalized Christendom of his time are generally apt, and the deficiencies he finds in them very real. He is certainly correct to see what we would call Evangelical Christendom as way overinvested in the individual and the exaltation thereof to the detriment of the collective and the common good. He was not wrong to see a complete lack of Kingdom values and ethic, and was absolutely right to want to bring the Lordship of Jesus to bear in societal domains. He did well at exposing the overemphasis on individual and personal sin/transgressions and intentional ignorance regarding systemic (he spoke of them as "super-personal") sin and deficiencies. His critiques of capitalism prove extremely relevant; his praise of co-operatives sounds like something you could read from one of Elizabeth Warren's many plans. While I think his motivations for disassociating the Kingdom from the church are misguided, I can appreciate the effort: the church ought to be the church and do what the church is given to do, and Christians do well to participate in that and also maintain the perspective that the Reign of Jesus is to be brought to bear in other domains of their existence. The "secular/sacred" binary was always a lie.
And yet. His progressivism and postmillennialism leads him to prove too dismissive of how Jesus and the Apostles actually worked and on what they focused as it related to social change. Postmillennial optimism was literally bleeding away on the killing fields of Europe as Rauschenbusch wrote; the promise of socialism, at least in its extreme form, would prove to be a horror not long afterward. All nations are corrupt, and while some things change for the better, other things change for the worse. It would be interesting to see what Rauschenbusch would think of America a century after his treatise: he would be able to see the many very concrete ways in which his type of thinking has led to societal change for the better, and yet the foundations of his positivist postmillennialism have been entirely dashed on the rocks of the trials of the 20th century. Few eschatological postures lead to such terrible dead ends as postmillennialism in any of its forms, and this should be a warning to any Christian Reconstructionists out there.
Theologically he is a bit too enraptured with Continental scholarship of the 19th century; his portrayal of Jesus is as ahistorical as those he would critique. The various reasons for the death of Jesus he gives are not wrong, and they are worth considering as reflections of the works of the powers and principalities over this present darkness; but they do not justify the abandonment of other atonement postures. He is right to see that churches tend to elevate "priests" and have nothing to do with "prophets," but his disassociation of Kingdom and church goes too far; he very much remains a creature of Christendom, and the cognitive dissonance between what should be and what has been was too much for him. His dismissal of baptism is a bit much. His progressivism gets the better of him in his dismissal of Satan and the demonic, leaving the New Testament's foundational ground for his "super-personal" forces. And those who think they understand Jesus better than the Apostles generally get their comeuppance.
One can perceive the strong impact of Rauschenbusch's theology on a lot of the social movements of the 20th century. And yet, just over a century later, most of what Rauschenbusch wrote in critique of American Christendom and capitalism are just as valid, if not more so, even though untold amounts of money and effort have been expended in various pursuits related to the "social gospel." Read this book for its critiques, and grapple with them; understand that salvation in Christ is to the end of relational unity between God and His people, not merely individual salvation; hear the clarion call to bring Jesus' lordship to bear in society, and to imagine a better conditions of relations among mankind. But understand that the powers and principalities over this present darkness are great in their power and working, and there remains wisdom in how Jesus and the Apostles went about turning the world upside down.
This Kindle edition is very good for the price; a few scanning errors, but nothing that hinders understanding.
I was going in and expecting to find much disagreement. The author was very much enraptured with positivist postmillennial progressivism, and most of my criticism derives from those assumptions. But Rauschenbusch is not easily or glibly dismissible; his critiques of the institutionalized Christendom of his time are generally apt, and the deficiencies he finds in them very real. He is certainly correct to see what we would call Evangelical Christendom as way overinvested in the individual and the exaltation thereof to the detriment of the collective and the common good. He was not wrong to see a complete lack of Kingdom values and ethic, and was absolutely right to want to bring the Lordship of Jesus to bear in societal domains. He did well at exposing the overemphasis on individual and personal sin/transgressions and intentional ignorance regarding systemic (he spoke of them as "super-personal") sin and deficiencies. His critiques of capitalism prove extremely relevant; his praise of co-operatives sounds like something you could read from one of Elizabeth Warren's many plans. While I think his motivations for disassociating the Kingdom from the church are misguided, I can appreciate the effort: the church ought to be the church and do what the church is given to do, and Christians do well to participate in that and also maintain the perspective that the Reign of Jesus is to be brought to bear in other domains of their existence. The "secular/sacred" binary was always a lie.
And yet. His progressivism and postmillennialism leads him to prove too dismissive of how Jesus and the Apostles actually worked and on what they focused as it related to social change. Postmillennial optimism was literally bleeding away on the killing fields of Europe as Rauschenbusch wrote; the promise of socialism, at least in its extreme form, would prove to be a horror not long afterward. All nations are corrupt, and while some things change for the better, other things change for the worse. It would be interesting to see what Rauschenbusch would think of America a century after his treatise: he would be able to see the many very concrete ways in which his type of thinking has led to societal change for the better, and yet the foundations of his positivist postmillennialism have been entirely dashed on the rocks of the trials of the 20th century. Few eschatological postures lead to such terrible dead ends as postmillennialism in any of its forms, and this should be a warning to any Christian Reconstructionists out there.
Theologically he is a bit too enraptured with Continental scholarship of the 19th century; his portrayal of Jesus is as ahistorical as those he would critique. The various reasons for the death of Jesus he gives are not wrong, and they are worth considering as reflections of the works of the powers and principalities over this present darkness; but they do not justify the abandonment of other atonement postures. He is right to see that churches tend to elevate "priests" and have nothing to do with "prophets," but his disassociation of Kingdom and church goes too far; he very much remains a creature of Christendom, and the cognitive dissonance between what should be and what has been was too much for him. His dismissal of baptism is a bit much. His progressivism gets the better of him in his dismissal of Satan and the demonic, leaving the New Testament's foundational ground for his "super-personal" forces. And those who think they understand Jesus better than the Apostles generally get their comeuppance.
One can perceive the strong impact of Rauschenbusch's theology on a lot of the social movements of the 20th century. And yet, just over a century later, most of what Rauschenbusch wrote in critique of American Christendom and capitalism are just as valid, if not more so, even though untold amounts of money and effort have been expended in various pursuits related to the "social gospel." Read this book for its critiques, and grapple with them; understand that salvation in Christ is to the end of relational unity between God and His people, not merely individual salvation; hear the clarion call to bring Jesus' lordship to bear in society, and to imagine a better conditions of relations among mankind. But understand that the powers and principalities over this present darkness are great in their power and working, and there remains wisdom in how Jesus and the Apostles went about turning the world upside down.
This Kindle edition is very good for the price; a few scanning errors, but nothing that hinders understanding.
April 17, 2023
A Theology For The Social Gospel
Book 14 of 2023.
The fieriest book I’ve read in a long time! Absolutely incendiary indictments of the prevailing social order, it’s legacy of oppression and our complicity in it. It’s relatively short but so dense it took longer than I’d have imagined, but it felt like basking in the warm glow of a well tended hearth. Here Rauschenbusch tackles the question of what society would look like of love replaced selfishness in human interactions. It’s also hugely ambitious for a scant 279 pages- he tackles almost everything from a universalist form of salvation to a detanglement of the sources of Christian eschatology (and why heaven
/earth/hell is a piece of inheritance we should ditch).
The book is definitely set in a specific moment and place (America, after the Gilded Age and WWI, when there was a thirst for peace, collective trauma and social sciences could, for the first time, be brought to bear on social problems). I came to this one after Benjamin Friedman’s “Religion and the Rise of Capitalism” last year, so I’m trying to pick up on the threads that bind the two books together.
There is a thorough solidarity with labor and oppressed people here (including civil rights, well ahead of the curve in the US) that I find laudable. Rauschenbusch contrasts the democratic public persona of the industrialists of his day against their autocratic tendencies in labor affairs in a way that still holds true. Capitalism consolidates money and turns that money into power and influence; therefore whoever has more money ends up with more power and influence.
The book likens the social gospel to the prophetic vision, which I think is helpful. At the time to which it spoke, just as now, there were major social upheavals globally that created a space to think about true social ethical issues, and even demanded them.
He contrasts what the Church had become in the 19 centuries since it was founded and contrasts that against what the Kingdom is supposed to be (I.e., Jesus’ vision). I can only imagine his response to a century of mega churches, televangelists and fire and brimstone revivals that have furthered the Church at the expense of the Kingdom. He links that powerful but inherently self-possessed Church to the Roman Empire itself; both breed apathy and a rent-seeking attitude.
Then, as now, individualistic theology has downplayed the central role of the Kingdom of God in Jesus’ teachings. Rauschenbusch puts selfishness as the root of all sin, and therefore submission to a superior system is part of salvation. This formula is repeated through the prophets, but here is represented at the societal level as well as the individual. “The definition of sin as selfishness gets its reality and nipping force only when we see humanity as a great solidarity and God indwelling in it (…) Salvation is the voluntary socializing of the soul.”
The chapter on “The Fall of Man” does justice to the error made in antiquity by over emphasizing the Fall as a central theme in the story the Bible tells; Jesus certainly seemed not to spend any time on this topic at all (save one minor reference in John). The effect of this overemphasizing is a sense of total depravity where none was intended, and a focus on the inheritance of sin instead of newly accumulated sins of our own making. Indeed, because of the contemporary context of the writing, there’s a lot of focus on elements that liberal Christianity have more or less ignored or done away with.
Another interesting aspect is the tracing of competing influences that ultimately are confluences between the church, industry and government. He tracks how WWI effectively ended pacifism as a tenet of the mainline Protestants. He ascribes the blame for the Luther, Calvin and other revolutions in the church on economic rather than strictly theological grounds- there was angst over the concentration of wealth in the church and lack of social utilization of that wealth. (However, he points out that these revolutions sowed the seeds of autocratic monarchism and empowered nobles rather than empowering the lower classes; a tale as old as time, in fact.)
Because of the temporal context, this book appears before the linkage between Democracy and Capitalism was cemented (a vestige of the Cold War); therefore he promotes democratic management while extolling cooperative organization. Maybe it’s possible to return to this period as a root?
However, there are some axiological problems here that are also a product of the book’s place in time- discussion of what Christian values might look like in statecraft might not survive scrutiny in a post colonial world. This seems to stem from a lack of imagination rather than from malicious intent.
Book 14 of 2023.
The fieriest book I’ve read in a long time! Absolutely incendiary indictments of the prevailing social order, it’s legacy of oppression and our complicity in it. It’s relatively short but so dense it took longer than I’d have imagined, but it felt like basking in the warm glow of a well tended hearth. Here Rauschenbusch tackles the question of what society would look like of love replaced selfishness in human interactions. It’s also hugely ambitious for a scant 279 pages- he tackles almost everything from a universalist form of salvation to a detanglement of the sources of Christian eschatology (and why heaven
/earth/hell is a piece of inheritance we should ditch).
The book is definitely set in a specific moment and place (America, after the Gilded Age and WWI, when there was a thirst for peace, collective trauma and social sciences could, for the first time, be brought to bear on social problems). I came to this one after Benjamin Friedman’s “Religion and the Rise of Capitalism” last year, so I’m trying to pick up on the threads that bind the two books together.
There is a thorough solidarity with labor and oppressed people here (including civil rights, well ahead of the curve in the US) that I find laudable. Rauschenbusch contrasts the democratic public persona of the industrialists of his day against their autocratic tendencies in labor affairs in a way that still holds true. Capitalism consolidates money and turns that money into power and influence; therefore whoever has more money ends up with more power and influence.
The book likens the social gospel to the prophetic vision, which I think is helpful. At the time to which it spoke, just as now, there were major social upheavals globally that created a space to think about true social ethical issues, and even demanded them.
He contrasts what the Church had become in the 19 centuries since it was founded and contrasts that against what the Kingdom is supposed to be (I.e., Jesus’ vision). I can only imagine his response to a century of mega churches, televangelists and fire and brimstone revivals that have furthered the Church at the expense of the Kingdom. He links that powerful but inherently self-possessed Church to the Roman Empire itself; both breed apathy and a rent-seeking attitude.
Then, as now, individualistic theology has downplayed the central role of the Kingdom of God in Jesus’ teachings. Rauschenbusch puts selfishness as the root of all sin, and therefore submission to a superior system is part of salvation. This formula is repeated through the prophets, but here is represented at the societal level as well as the individual. “The definition of sin as selfishness gets its reality and nipping force only when we see humanity as a great solidarity and God indwelling in it (…) Salvation is the voluntary socializing of the soul.”
The chapter on “The Fall of Man” does justice to the error made in antiquity by over emphasizing the Fall as a central theme in the story the Bible tells; Jesus certainly seemed not to spend any time on this topic at all (save one minor reference in John). The effect of this overemphasizing is a sense of total depravity where none was intended, and a focus on the inheritance of sin instead of newly accumulated sins of our own making. Indeed, because of the contemporary context of the writing, there’s a lot of focus on elements that liberal Christianity have more or less ignored or done away with.
Another interesting aspect is the tracing of competing influences that ultimately are confluences between the church, industry and government. He tracks how WWI effectively ended pacifism as a tenet of the mainline Protestants. He ascribes the blame for the Luther, Calvin and other revolutions in the church on economic rather than strictly theological grounds- there was angst over the concentration of wealth in the church and lack of social utilization of that wealth. (However, he points out that these revolutions sowed the seeds of autocratic monarchism and empowered nobles rather than empowering the lower classes; a tale as old as time, in fact.)
Because of the temporal context, this book appears before the linkage between Democracy and Capitalism was cemented (a vestige of the Cold War); therefore he promotes democratic management while extolling cooperative organization. Maybe it’s possible to return to this period as a root?
However, there are some axiological problems here that are also a product of the book’s place in time- discussion of what Christian values might look like in statecraft might not survive scrutiny in a post colonial world. This seems to stem from a lack of imagination rather than from malicious intent.
January 29, 2023
Walter Rauschenbusch’s book, The Theology for the Social Gospel, originally dated in 1917,
was an eye-opening experience for me. Since I had not ever heard of the “social gospel
movement” before, I was taken aback when reading about this shift in the early nineteen and
twentieth century. I do not believe I was fully aware of the economic and social issues until I
read this profoundly rich book.
To be honest, I was shocked to read about the significant amount inequality, unjust, and
underlying issues Christianity has endured, and covered up for centuries. Reading about the
poverty alone was appalling. It was also a great reminder of why it is so important to step in as
ministers to make sure we are not just sweeping social justice issues under the rug.
I believe my favorite quote out of the book was “The social gospel is not a doctrine turned
backward to the sources of authority, but a faith turned forward to its tasks.”1 What a great visual
for Rauschenbusch’s readers, we are not to look backward but to focus on the tender tasks ahead
of us. These tasks, ordained and orchestrated by God are faith-filled opportunities, not only for
us, but for the sake of others.
After reading Rauschenbusch’s book, it has been revealed to me how easy it can be to simply
ignore blatantly obvious issues in and around the Church. Most shockingly, I realized we have
not seemed to learn from these constant problems, in fact, have they grown worse? It seemed in
over a century, not much has changed. How can we do better as Christians?
This book is a reminder of how the church once failed to address the dire needs for our
neighbors. This is also a reminder that we need to help the poor, the oppressed, the naked, the
lonely, and lost. All of these issues were (and are currently) the reason why the church is lacking
in love and righteousness. I found this book to be an important theological study resource
because this reshaped the people, who call themselves Christians. The social gospel movement
helped those who wanted to stand up in for those in desperate need. Doesn’t this include all of
us? Of course, more so than others. But we must always remember, we were all lost and in need
of a Savior.
Though over a hundred years old, Rauschenbusch did an amazing job discussing very sensitive
subjects to his theologically inquisitive readers. Not only did he address the following issues, he
cleared up many misconceptions of these topics as well. Whether it included the sin and fall of
man, evil, salvation, revelation, or the Holy Spirit, he made it clear these were important aspects
of being a Christian. What I found most interesting is how he reminded us; our faith is worth
taking a stand for. Why? Because who else will?
One of his quotes shook me to my core, firing me up in a way I have not ever experienced
before, “We must shift from catastrophe to development.”2 This book, these powerful words, are
the reminder of the authoritative God we serve and the people we are commanded to love.
was an eye-opening experience for me. Since I had not ever heard of the “social gospel
movement” before, I was taken aback when reading about this shift in the early nineteen and
twentieth century. I do not believe I was fully aware of the economic and social issues until I
read this profoundly rich book.
To be honest, I was shocked to read about the significant amount inequality, unjust, and
underlying issues Christianity has endured, and covered up for centuries. Reading about the
poverty alone was appalling. It was also a great reminder of why it is so important to step in as
ministers to make sure we are not just sweeping social justice issues under the rug.
I believe my favorite quote out of the book was “The social gospel is not a doctrine turned
backward to the sources of authority, but a faith turned forward to its tasks.”1 What a great visual
for Rauschenbusch’s readers, we are not to look backward but to focus on the tender tasks ahead
of us. These tasks, ordained and orchestrated by God are faith-filled opportunities, not only for
us, but for the sake of others.
After reading Rauschenbusch’s book, it has been revealed to me how easy it can be to simply
ignore blatantly obvious issues in and around the Church. Most shockingly, I realized we have
not seemed to learn from these constant problems, in fact, have they grown worse? It seemed in
over a century, not much has changed. How can we do better as Christians?
This book is a reminder of how the church once failed to address the dire needs for our
neighbors. This is also a reminder that we need to help the poor, the oppressed, the naked, the
lonely, and lost. All of these issues were (and are currently) the reason why the church is lacking
in love and righteousness. I found this book to be an important theological study resource
because this reshaped the people, who call themselves Christians. The social gospel movement
helped those who wanted to stand up in for those in desperate need. Doesn’t this include all of
us? Of course, more so than others. But we must always remember, we were all lost and in need
of a Savior.
Though over a hundred years old, Rauschenbusch did an amazing job discussing very sensitive
subjects to his theologically inquisitive readers. Not only did he address the following issues, he
cleared up many misconceptions of these topics as well. Whether it included the sin and fall of
man, evil, salvation, revelation, or the Holy Spirit, he made it clear these were important aspects
of being a Christian. What I found most interesting is how he reminded us; our faith is worth
taking a stand for. Why? Because who else will?
One of his quotes shook me to my core, firing me up in a way I have not ever experienced
before, “We must shift from catastrophe to development.”2 This book, these powerful words, are
the reminder of the authoritative God we serve and the people we are commanded to love.
May 27, 2015
A Theology for the Social Gospel is one of the most important works of Christian theology of the last one hundred years and the premiere catalyst for modern liberal Christian thought in the United States following the emergence of the social gospel movement. Walter Rauschenbusch (1861-1918), a graduate of the Rochester Theological Seminary (now known as Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School), was a Baptist preacher of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries who served for eleven years as pastor of Second Baptist Church in New York City’s “Hell’s Kitchen,” where he realized that the individualistic gospel touted by orthodox theology could not possibly comfort members of his congregation who suffered from severe poverty-related hardship, economic exploitation, and systemic oppression. In A Theology for the Social Gospel, Rauschenbusch presents a comprehensive intellectual basis for the social gospel centered on the Kingdom of God, which he believes is the most indispensable of all Jesus’s teachings. He touches upon a number of important Christian ideas, including original sin, the nature of faith, the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist, the historical personality of Jesus, the existence of hell, and an innovative concept of social sin all in an attempt to refocus Christian theology around solidarity, both between human persons and with God. Chock-full of beautifully straightforward prose and a healthy dose of intellectualism, Rauschenbusch offers an extremely readable yet utterly revolutionary theological account that every Christian should absolutely read.
A Theology for the Social Gospel is divided into nineteen chapters, some of which are quite cursory while others include extensive discussions of complex theological ideas. Rauschenbusch makes a valiant attempt to cover almost everything; he begins with an introduction to the social gospel and an apologetic argument for the purpose of his work and ends with a stimulating explanation of how the social gospel might inform our interpretation of the atonement. His stylistic approach is systematic, with numbers often delineating the fine differences between his more complicated points. Most importantly, Theology is neither superficial in its treatment of theological concepts nor impenetrable to non-academic readers. Rauschenbusch uses ordinary language (even if some of his vocabulary feels dated) to delve deeply into many of the most challenging aspects of Christianity for modern, liberal progressives.
Throughout A Theology for the Social Gospel, Rauschenbusch seeks to promote the doctrine of the Kingdom of God, giving it a central place in Christian ethics. He demonstrates how Jesus cherished the Kingdom ideal, how early Christians interpreted when it would materialize, and how theologians slowly phased it out of orthodox theology. Here and in other parts of the book, Rauschenbusch offers a concise history of prominent Christian ideas, making Theology accessible to even those outside of seminary school unfamiliar with the Church’s two thousand year evolution. His discussions of historical interpretations of original sin, the sacraments, and Satan as understood by Jewish writers before the Babylonian captivity are particularly enlightening and help frame his overall message. Likewise, readers will be surprised to discover Rauschenbusch’s contextual interpretation of the Book of Revelation and his full-fledged endorsement of the study of the historical Jesus.
In Theology, Rauschenbusch’s final work a year before his death, he presents a host of new theological interpretations that challenge traditional understandings while referencing the fundamental beliefs of the earliest Christians. Nevertheless, Rauschenbusch isn’t afraid to allow sociology, economics, and even biology to influence his theological account. Contemporary thoughts and ideas, he says, “are always silent factors in the construction of theory.” Just as Paul connected issues he encountered in ancient Mediterranean society with the life and death of Jesus, Rauschenbusch claims that it is perfectly justifiable that what we know about our world shapes our perspective toward how we interpret Scripture. One of the more intriguing notions in Theology that derives from this line of reasoning is Rauschenbusch’s conception of social sin. He wants us to become aware of how institutions and political structures, which capture our own individual sins and make them effective, inseminate injustice. Individual sins, he contends, are connected with public sins that one can identify in all human societies. They are social because they are not exclusive to the individuals who committed them at a specific time and place.
Day after day, Rauschenbusch says, we participate in many of the same social evils that killed Jesus by what he calls “our conscious actions or our passive consent.” If Judas or Pilate stood before us, Rauschenbusch asserts that “we could not wholly condemn them” because we, too, are culpable in the death of Jesus. He therefore calls us to emulate Jesus, whose death was the supreme act of opposition to social sin, and resist the coercive power of societal evil with love for those who suffer from these oppressive injustices. Only then can we truly work in solidarity with the poor in their continuous effort toward liberation.
Rauschenbusch is also a brazenly outspoken critic of the capitalistic establishment and the super-personal forces of evil that let its proponents exploit those who lack political influence. He is an avid champion of socialism, trade unions, collectivism, and class liberation. Rauschenbusch therefore makes a persuasive case that Christian faith cannot be separated from politics. Super-personal forces of love, like the Church and not unimportantly ideal political states, must work tirelessly to promote the Kingdom ideal through the immense power that they wield. This will only be possible, Rauschenbusch implies, when Christians focus more on social justice issues and less on trivial instances of cursing, card playing, dancing, and other private “sins” of a similar nature. Like Jesus, Christians need to embrace a God-consciousness that helps them see the world on a macrolevel in order to initiate transformative change.
Where do we look for hope in a world filled with the same societal indifference to human suffering that Rauschenbusch condemned at the beginning of the twentieth century? How can we still have faith? The prophets and Jesus, Rauschenbusch points out, make it abundantly clear that God uniquely identifies with the poor. Rauschenbusch demonstrates how God asks that we turn away from our individualistic tendencies, refute the temptation of selfishness, and reject the false and fatalistic notion that we are doomed to failure. Rauschenbusch, like the prophets he praises in A Theology for the Social Gospel, refuses to accept that we cannot rebuild our society with love fueled by a desire for the actualization of the Kingdom ideal. And, after one hundred years marked by near-constant war, insatiable corporate greed, and the reemergence of severe income inequality, the incisive words of one of the most influential liberal theologians of the twentieth century are as pertinent as ever.
A Theology for the Social Gospel is divided into nineteen chapters, some of which are quite cursory while others include extensive discussions of complex theological ideas. Rauschenbusch makes a valiant attempt to cover almost everything; he begins with an introduction to the social gospel and an apologetic argument for the purpose of his work and ends with a stimulating explanation of how the social gospel might inform our interpretation of the atonement. His stylistic approach is systematic, with numbers often delineating the fine differences between his more complicated points. Most importantly, Theology is neither superficial in its treatment of theological concepts nor impenetrable to non-academic readers. Rauschenbusch uses ordinary language (even if some of his vocabulary feels dated) to delve deeply into many of the most challenging aspects of Christianity for modern, liberal progressives.
Throughout A Theology for the Social Gospel, Rauschenbusch seeks to promote the doctrine of the Kingdom of God, giving it a central place in Christian ethics. He demonstrates how Jesus cherished the Kingdom ideal, how early Christians interpreted when it would materialize, and how theologians slowly phased it out of orthodox theology. Here and in other parts of the book, Rauschenbusch offers a concise history of prominent Christian ideas, making Theology accessible to even those outside of seminary school unfamiliar with the Church’s two thousand year evolution. His discussions of historical interpretations of original sin, the sacraments, and Satan as understood by Jewish writers before the Babylonian captivity are particularly enlightening and help frame his overall message. Likewise, readers will be surprised to discover Rauschenbusch’s contextual interpretation of the Book of Revelation and his full-fledged endorsement of the study of the historical Jesus.
In Theology, Rauschenbusch’s final work a year before his death, he presents a host of new theological interpretations that challenge traditional understandings while referencing the fundamental beliefs of the earliest Christians. Nevertheless, Rauschenbusch isn’t afraid to allow sociology, economics, and even biology to influence his theological account. Contemporary thoughts and ideas, he says, “are always silent factors in the construction of theory.” Just as Paul connected issues he encountered in ancient Mediterranean society with the life and death of Jesus, Rauschenbusch claims that it is perfectly justifiable that what we know about our world shapes our perspective toward how we interpret Scripture. One of the more intriguing notions in Theology that derives from this line of reasoning is Rauschenbusch’s conception of social sin. He wants us to become aware of how institutions and political structures, which capture our own individual sins and make them effective, inseminate injustice. Individual sins, he contends, are connected with public sins that one can identify in all human societies. They are social because they are not exclusive to the individuals who committed them at a specific time and place.
Day after day, Rauschenbusch says, we participate in many of the same social evils that killed Jesus by what he calls “our conscious actions or our passive consent.” If Judas or Pilate stood before us, Rauschenbusch asserts that “we could not wholly condemn them” because we, too, are culpable in the death of Jesus. He therefore calls us to emulate Jesus, whose death was the supreme act of opposition to social sin, and resist the coercive power of societal evil with love for those who suffer from these oppressive injustices. Only then can we truly work in solidarity with the poor in their continuous effort toward liberation.
Rauschenbusch is also a brazenly outspoken critic of the capitalistic establishment and the super-personal forces of evil that let its proponents exploit those who lack political influence. He is an avid champion of socialism, trade unions, collectivism, and class liberation. Rauschenbusch therefore makes a persuasive case that Christian faith cannot be separated from politics. Super-personal forces of love, like the Church and not unimportantly ideal political states, must work tirelessly to promote the Kingdom ideal through the immense power that they wield. This will only be possible, Rauschenbusch implies, when Christians focus more on social justice issues and less on trivial instances of cursing, card playing, dancing, and other private “sins” of a similar nature. Like Jesus, Christians need to embrace a God-consciousness that helps them see the world on a macrolevel in order to initiate transformative change.
Where do we look for hope in a world filled with the same societal indifference to human suffering that Rauschenbusch condemned at the beginning of the twentieth century? How can we still have faith? The prophets and Jesus, Rauschenbusch points out, make it abundantly clear that God uniquely identifies with the poor. Rauschenbusch demonstrates how God asks that we turn away from our individualistic tendencies, refute the temptation of selfishness, and reject the false and fatalistic notion that we are doomed to failure. Rauschenbusch, like the prophets he praises in A Theology for the Social Gospel, refuses to accept that we cannot rebuild our society with love fueled by a desire for the actualization of the Kingdom ideal. And, after one hundred years marked by near-constant war, insatiable corporate greed, and the reemergence of severe income inequality, the incisive words of one of the most influential liberal theologians of the twentieth century are as pertinent as ever.
March 2, 2012
The Nature of Sin and Salvation
When attempting to manufacture a systematic theology, the nature of sin and salvation becomes integral components of the position. Slight changes in these core beliefs cause vast differences externally. Having previously labored toward the notion of “the social gospel,” Walter Rauschenbusch writes A Theology for the Social Gospel with the aims to fill in the gaps.
Interestingly, Rauschenbusch begins his endeavor under clearly inductive principles. Where many theologians begin with wide-sweeping, theoretical principles and work down toward specifics, Rauschenbusch begins with the assumption that:
“We have a social gospel. We need a systematic theology large enough to match it and vital enough to back it” (1).
Thus, the bedrock principles of theology must fit around the idea of a social gospel.
On Sin
Next, Rauschenbusch defines the nature of sin. Rauschenbusch rejects the classic conceptions of sin which center on the notion of personal morality. Instead, he offers,
“Sin is essentially selfishness. That definition is more in harmony with the social gospel than with any individualistic type of religion. The sinful mind, then, is the unsocial and anti-social mind” (50).
As the basic tenets of the social gospel recommend, the notion of sin must transform from an individual perception to a collective perception. Sin is not defined by the “do’s and don’ts” of individual morality but the involvement of an individual in a larger group. Rauschenbusch later suggests that sin takes effect in social scenarios; without the opportunity to inflict injustice on another human being, sin lacks an ethical bite.
Sin and the Collective Body
Having established a social setting under which sin finds meaning, Rauschenbusch expands the meaning of sin to include social groups. For his justification of the moral value in collective organizations, Rauschenbusch quotes Josiah Royce who stated,
“There are in the human world two profoundly different grades, or levels, of mental beings,—namely, the beings that we usually call human individuals, and the being that we call communities.—Any highly organized community is as truly a human being as you and I are individually human” (71).
The collective actions of a community carry as much weight as the actions of an individual. If a human being is capable of sinful selfishness, an organization is as well.
On Salvation
Given the notion of both human and communal sinfulness, Rauschenbusch’s view of salvation carries a similar dualistic nature. On one side, Rauschenbusch affirms an individual salvation when he asserts,
“If sin is selfishness, salvation must be a change which turns a man from self to God and humanity” (97).
Even though he adds the caveat of turning toward humanity, Rauschenbusch aligns himself for the most part with classic views on salvation.
Yet Rauschenbusch takes an extra step, asserting that communities also carry the responsibility of salvation. He writes,
“The Salvation of the composite personalities, like that of individuals, consists in coming under the law of Christ” (111).
In ways similar to the legal standing of corporations as individual citizens, Rauschenbusch believes that the collective actions of an organization are a source for salvific consideration.
On the Church
For Rauschenbusch, the entity that ties together his theology of sin and salvation is the church. Rauschenbusch argues:
“The Church is the social factor in salvation. It brings social forces to bear on evil. It offers Christ not only many human bodies and minds to serve as ministers of his salvation, but its own composite personality, with a collective memory stored with great hymns and Bible stories and deeds of heroism, with trained aesthetic and moral feelings, and with a collective will set on righteousness” (119).
Therefore, the connection between personal and collective sin and salvation lies with the church. It possesses the ability to speak into the life of an individual and against the injustice of a collective.
Questions on Sin and Grace
Even though A Theology for the Social Gospel explores the importance of adding collective moral weight to the notions of sin and salvation, certain assertions from Rauschenbusch are questionable. First, he decries the classic notion of universal sin. He writes,
“Theologians have erred, it seems to me, by fitting their definitions to the most highly developed forms of sin and then spreading them over germinal and semi-sinful actions and conditions” (45).
Most Christian traditions consider sin to be sin no matter the depth or consequence. A white lie is as sinful as committing murder. Yet, Rauschenbusch clearly believes that sin is too widely defined. Certainly, we see Christians who take liberty to declare many “gray areas” as sinful.
Despite no clear “thou shalt not drink alcohol of any kind at any time,” many moralists consider such an action as sin. However, the attempt to define a “semi-sinful” state seems dangerous. On the whole, Rauschenbusch argues against a legalistic morality, but I worry he wanders too far in the other direction.
In addition, I see no mention of grace in Rauschenbusch’s theology. There is no note on the Ephesians passage that states, “For by grace we have been saved…” (Ephesians 2:8). For Rauschenbusch, salvation occurs during alignment with God and alignment with the Church body. Given his inductive approach to the social gospel, Rauschenbusch has no need for grace. But isn’t grace the first step and those alignments a response to the original offer of grace? Clearly, Rauschenbusch does not stress a Pauline view in his social gospel. But I am wary that without mentioning grace, Rauschenbusch ignores a portion of the gospel.
Conclusion
In A Theology for the Social Gospel, Walter Rauschenbusch sets forth an attempt for a systematic theology that fulfills the social gospel from an inductive approach. Focusing on sin and salvation that includes both personal and collective pieces, Rauschenbusch believes that the social institution of the church acts as the fulcrum between the individual and society. Nevertheless, Rauschenbusch’s view of sin and his lack of interest in grace leaves question marks. The gospel offers social aims, and Walter Rauschenbusch’s theology endeavors to provide system around it. If you are interested theology and social justice, Walter Rauschenbusch’s A Theology for the Social Gospel is a must read. However, if you find unorthodox or non-conservative theological positions dangerous, I suggest you steer clear.
When attempting to manufacture a systematic theology, the nature of sin and salvation becomes integral components of the position. Slight changes in these core beliefs cause vast differences externally. Having previously labored toward the notion of “the social gospel,” Walter Rauschenbusch writes A Theology for the Social Gospel with the aims to fill in the gaps.
Interestingly, Rauschenbusch begins his endeavor under clearly inductive principles. Where many theologians begin with wide-sweeping, theoretical principles and work down toward specifics, Rauschenbusch begins with the assumption that:
“We have a social gospel. We need a systematic theology large enough to match it and vital enough to back it” (1).
Thus, the bedrock principles of theology must fit around the idea of a social gospel.
On Sin
Next, Rauschenbusch defines the nature of sin. Rauschenbusch rejects the classic conceptions of sin which center on the notion of personal morality. Instead, he offers,
“Sin is essentially selfishness. That definition is more in harmony with the social gospel than with any individualistic type of religion. The sinful mind, then, is the unsocial and anti-social mind” (50).
As the basic tenets of the social gospel recommend, the notion of sin must transform from an individual perception to a collective perception. Sin is not defined by the “do’s and don’ts” of individual morality but the involvement of an individual in a larger group. Rauschenbusch later suggests that sin takes effect in social scenarios; without the opportunity to inflict injustice on another human being, sin lacks an ethical bite.
Sin and the Collective Body
Having established a social setting under which sin finds meaning, Rauschenbusch expands the meaning of sin to include social groups. For his justification of the moral value in collective organizations, Rauschenbusch quotes Josiah Royce who stated,
“There are in the human world two profoundly different grades, or levels, of mental beings,—namely, the beings that we usually call human individuals, and the being that we call communities.—Any highly organized community is as truly a human being as you and I are individually human” (71).
The collective actions of a community carry as much weight as the actions of an individual. If a human being is capable of sinful selfishness, an organization is as well.
On Salvation
Given the notion of both human and communal sinfulness, Rauschenbusch’s view of salvation carries a similar dualistic nature. On one side, Rauschenbusch affirms an individual salvation when he asserts,
“If sin is selfishness, salvation must be a change which turns a man from self to God and humanity” (97).
Even though he adds the caveat of turning toward humanity, Rauschenbusch aligns himself for the most part with classic views on salvation.
Yet Rauschenbusch takes an extra step, asserting that communities also carry the responsibility of salvation. He writes,
“The Salvation of the composite personalities, like that of individuals, consists in coming under the law of Christ” (111).
In ways similar to the legal standing of corporations as individual citizens, Rauschenbusch believes that the collective actions of an organization are a source for salvific consideration.
On the Church
For Rauschenbusch, the entity that ties together his theology of sin and salvation is the church. Rauschenbusch argues:
“The Church is the social factor in salvation. It brings social forces to bear on evil. It offers Christ not only many human bodies and minds to serve as ministers of his salvation, but its own composite personality, with a collective memory stored with great hymns and Bible stories and deeds of heroism, with trained aesthetic and moral feelings, and with a collective will set on righteousness” (119).
Therefore, the connection between personal and collective sin and salvation lies with the church. It possesses the ability to speak into the life of an individual and against the injustice of a collective.
Questions on Sin and Grace
Even though A Theology for the Social Gospel explores the importance of adding collective moral weight to the notions of sin and salvation, certain assertions from Rauschenbusch are questionable. First, he decries the classic notion of universal sin. He writes,
“Theologians have erred, it seems to me, by fitting their definitions to the most highly developed forms of sin and then spreading them over germinal and semi-sinful actions and conditions” (45).
Most Christian traditions consider sin to be sin no matter the depth or consequence. A white lie is as sinful as committing murder. Yet, Rauschenbusch clearly believes that sin is too widely defined. Certainly, we see Christians who take liberty to declare many “gray areas” as sinful.
Despite no clear “thou shalt not drink alcohol of any kind at any time,” many moralists consider such an action as sin. However, the attempt to define a “semi-sinful” state seems dangerous. On the whole, Rauschenbusch argues against a legalistic morality, but I worry he wanders too far in the other direction.
In addition, I see no mention of grace in Rauschenbusch’s theology. There is no note on the Ephesians passage that states, “For by grace we have been saved…” (Ephesians 2:8). For Rauschenbusch, salvation occurs during alignment with God and alignment with the Church body. Given his inductive approach to the social gospel, Rauschenbusch has no need for grace. But isn’t grace the first step and those alignments a response to the original offer of grace? Clearly, Rauschenbusch does not stress a Pauline view in his social gospel. But I am wary that without mentioning grace, Rauschenbusch ignores a portion of the gospel.
Conclusion
In A Theology for the Social Gospel, Walter Rauschenbusch sets forth an attempt for a systematic theology that fulfills the social gospel from an inductive approach. Focusing on sin and salvation that includes both personal and collective pieces, Rauschenbusch believes that the social institution of the church acts as the fulcrum between the individual and society. Nevertheless, Rauschenbusch’s view of sin and his lack of interest in grace leaves question marks. The gospel offers social aims, and Walter Rauschenbusch’s theology endeavors to provide system around it. If you are interested theology and social justice, Walter Rauschenbusch’s A Theology for the Social Gospel is a must read. However, if you find unorthodox or non-conservative theological positions dangerous, I suggest you steer clear.
July 19, 2020
Written in the midst of WWI, this systematic theology is still relevant to the modern issues of social justice. One of Rauschenbush's great contributions is to bring back the sin of nations and its implications for the well-being of humanity, as opposed to looking at individual sin. When Luther and the reformers focused solely on the personal relationship with God, Protestantism lost touch with the sins that affected humanity or nations wholistically. Throughout the Old Testament, sin was linked to entire nations, and Jesus the Nazarene commonly spoke of the Kingdom of God as the truth to be brought into the world at a societal level. By hyper-focusing on the personal relationship, it allows a person to sidestep our obligations to seeing to the higher callings of faith in our nation, world, and communities: justice, love, and mercy. If we were to de-individualize our responsibility, we may begin to see the need to reform criminal justice, economic injustice, and other widespread disparities.
By framing sin as selfishness, Rauschenbusch calls us to see love as the foundation of any moral economic or political system. Certainly an opponent of the excesses of capitalism seen in the early 1900s (and in the modern era), his theology requires us to take seriously that God is on the side of the least of these. After all, "inasmuch as you do unto the least of these, you have done it unto me."
While setting out on an ambitious quest to reframe the fundamental tenents of Christianity in light of the social gospel, I think he provided a valuable reframe, to look at it from design thinking terminology. While some of it seemed overly ambitious, his reframe seemed to me to better our understanding of the teachings of Jesus the Nazarene.
By framing sin as selfishness, Rauschenbusch calls us to see love as the foundation of any moral economic or political system. Certainly an opponent of the excesses of capitalism seen in the early 1900s (and in the modern era), his theology requires us to take seriously that God is on the side of the least of these. After all, "inasmuch as you do unto the least of these, you have done it unto me."
While setting out on an ambitious quest to reframe the fundamental tenents of Christianity in light of the social gospel, I think he provided a valuable reframe, to look at it from design thinking terminology. While some of it seemed overly ambitious, his reframe seemed to me to better our understanding of the teachings of Jesus the Nazarene.
September 24, 2021
Astonishing read, especially considering it was written in 1917! It feels in many ways like a book written in contemporary context (language notwithstanding), because it deals with so many of the concerns and complaints people are expressing toward conservative Christianity in this present moment of deconstruction and exodus away from traditional theology (thankfully). This is a classic for good reason, because it addresses these timeless concerns.
Granted, it is also very much a product of it's time in many ways, as all things are. One can tell that Rauschenbusch is enamored with some of the more socialistic ideals of the early 20th century, and his approach to atonement and sin in particular smack of communism's concerns with the proletariat and "parasitic" socio-economic conditions. Not that this isn't a valid concern (it very much is, especially in today's late capitalism), and these ideas NEED more thought in contemporary Christian theology; however, they dominate this book and that is a reflection of the historical moment. Other examples could be made as well.
All in all, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in how Christianity might be reframed in a redemptive way for social concerns, institutions, and a post-individualistic world. The focus on the Kingdom of God alone is a breath of fresh air the church has been resisting to inhale for over a century (or maybe two millennia). There are "liberal theology" tendencies here (i.e. no discussion of the resurrection in the atonement chapter or miracles) but at the same time a deeper appreciation of Israelite religion and the prophetic tradition of the Old Testament than I see in most theological discussion. Seriously, I'll be returning to this time and again.
Granted, it is also very much a product of it's time in many ways, as all things are. One can tell that Rauschenbusch is enamored with some of the more socialistic ideals of the early 20th century, and his approach to atonement and sin in particular smack of communism's concerns with the proletariat and "parasitic" socio-economic conditions. Not that this isn't a valid concern (it very much is, especially in today's late capitalism), and these ideas NEED more thought in contemporary Christian theology; however, they dominate this book and that is a reflection of the historical moment. Other examples could be made as well.
All in all, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in how Christianity might be reframed in a redemptive way for social concerns, institutions, and a post-individualistic world. The focus on the Kingdom of God alone is a breath of fresh air the church has been resisting to inhale for over a century (or maybe two millennia). There are "liberal theology" tendencies here (i.e. no discussion of the resurrection in the atonement chapter or miracles) but at the same time a deeper appreciation of Israelite religion and the prophetic tradition of the Old Testament than I see in most theological discussion. Seriously, I'll be returning to this time and again.
October 10, 2023
"The most unattractive element in the orthodox outlook on the future life is the immediate fixity of the two states. When we die, our destiny is immediately and irrevocably settled for us... But no man, in any human sense of justice, has deserved an eternity of hell." - Walter Rauschenbusch
Rauschenbusch picked up where Schleiermacher left off and developed a full-fledged liberal theology. I was not surprised to see throughout this work numerous examples where a denial of the clear teaching of Scripture is essential to his argument. From Gen. 3 to Paul and the atonement, Rauschenbusch simply remarks that the text we have is corrupted or is not saying what it clearly says. The difficulty in interacting with this work is so much of what Rauschenbusch says simply sounds good. And, there are some things on Christian social engagement that he gets right. The problem is that the root or force of what is driving his theological framework is not the Biblical gospel, but by his own admission, is the social gospel. Which, in the words of Paul in Galatians 1, is not the gospel.
Rauschenbusch picked up where Schleiermacher left off and developed a full-fledged liberal theology. I was not surprised to see throughout this work numerous examples where a denial of the clear teaching of Scripture is essential to his argument. From Gen. 3 to Paul and the atonement, Rauschenbusch simply remarks that the text we have is corrupted or is not saying what it clearly says. The difficulty in interacting with this work is so much of what Rauschenbusch says simply sounds good. And, there are some things on Christian social engagement that he gets right. The problem is that the root or force of what is driving his theological framework is not the Biblical gospel, but by his own admission, is the social gospel. Which, in the words of Paul in Galatians 1, is not the gospel.
September 23, 2023
Must read
What happened to true theologians such as he? Too bad the churches didn't continue with the social gospel. This is the type of Christianity th that is universal . I'm hopeful the prophesy will continue to unfold.
What happened to true theologians such as he? Too bad the churches didn't continue with the social gospel. This is the type of Christianity th that is universal . I'm hopeful the prophesy will continue to unfold.
Read
January 1, 2025Between this and "The Social Gospel in the South," I have read so much on this topic. But neither book warranted me reading them in their entirety. So right now I'm gonna say I read one book in total. Subject to deletion. Amen.
June 22, 2021
Essential.
April 17, 2015
Rauschenbusch saw the need to further develop the budding theology of the social gospel from his formidable debut in Christianity and the Social Crisis. Here he expands his thinking into the different loci of theology: sin, salvation, God, Christ, eschatology, ecclesiology, atonement. While I don't agree with everything he has said, this review gives him 5 stars for its prophetic power, stylistic beauty, and theological originality.
Much of what he said can be affirmed by even conservative Christians. Does sin get learned by each generation through its social practices? Yes. Does salvation have a social aspect? Yes. Has fundamentalism downplayed its political responsibility and the kingdom of God? Oh yes. Does Christ reveal how to live the kingdom of God now? Yes. Yes. Yes.
Much of what he said was ahead of his time. He had thought through the implications of a non-historical Adam. He integrated theology and ethics, moving past the modern dichotomy. He developed sophisticated objections to Calvinism, based on Christocentric logic. His eschatology has a close eye for the nuances of the text that literalism neglects. His doctrine of the sacraments reclaims their original meaning and power. His theology of the cross as a pattern for disciples to follow is simply excellent. There is so much in this book that was anticipating further movements and conversations that his contemporaries could not wrestle with in his own day. They were simply cowards.
However in many other ways, he goes too far. He dismisses belief in angels and demons as mythological. His doctrine of sin and salvation focus too much on the economic aspect of the person. His doctrine of Scripture is a bit too bare. His Christology reduces Christ's divinity to God-consciousness. His historical critical approach, while often precise, also has a tendency to pit parts of the canon against others (namely, social prophets against apocalyptic, which is an unnatural move). While brilliant and original attempts, I would not see these as successful advances of doctrine.
One thing that I found in reading him is that, like all great theologians, he evades being pigeon-holed. While often reduced to a person that has conflated the gospel with marxism, accommodating the gospel to the culture, having an uncritically modernistic approach, blind to human depravity, I found that is often inaccurate. While he does have his problematic elements, at many points he is profoundly aware of misunderstandings of his theology and is deeply critical of modernity. He even is often concerned that his conservative contemporaries are more accommodated to the individualism, capitalism, and even despotism of their day. Ironically, he say conservatism as accommodation, and his theology in light with the true spirit of the Reformation and the ancient church.
So, one has to accept the good and disregard the bad. Rauschenbush was a brilliant and passionate Christian. He was an excellent pastor and professor. He deserves our respect as one of the true prophetic minds of American theology. He had his extremes, but his heart was centred on Christ.
Much of what he said can be affirmed by even conservative Christians. Does sin get learned by each generation through its social practices? Yes. Does salvation have a social aspect? Yes. Has fundamentalism downplayed its political responsibility and the kingdom of God? Oh yes. Does Christ reveal how to live the kingdom of God now? Yes. Yes. Yes.
Much of what he said was ahead of his time. He had thought through the implications of a non-historical Adam. He integrated theology and ethics, moving past the modern dichotomy. He developed sophisticated objections to Calvinism, based on Christocentric logic. His eschatology has a close eye for the nuances of the text that literalism neglects. His doctrine of the sacraments reclaims their original meaning and power. His theology of the cross as a pattern for disciples to follow is simply excellent. There is so much in this book that was anticipating further movements and conversations that his contemporaries could not wrestle with in his own day. They were simply cowards.
However in many other ways, he goes too far. He dismisses belief in angels and demons as mythological. His doctrine of sin and salvation focus too much on the economic aspect of the person. His doctrine of Scripture is a bit too bare. His Christology reduces Christ's divinity to God-consciousness. His historical critical approach, while often precise, also has a tendency to pit parts of the canon against others (namely, social prophets against apocalyptic, which is an unnatural move). While brilliant and original attempts, I would not see these as successful advances of doctrine.
One thing that I found in reading him is that, like all great theologians, he evades being pigeon-holed. While often reduced to a person that has conflated the gospel with marxism, accommodating the gospel to the culture, having an uncritically modernistic approach, blind to human depravity, I found that is often inaccurate. While he does have his problematic elements, at many points he is profoundly aware of misunderstandings of his theology and is deeply critical of modernity. He even is often concerned that his conservative contemporaries are more accommodated to the individualism, capitalism, and even despotism of their day. Ironically, he say conservatism as accommodation, and his theology in light with the true spirit of the Reformation and the ancient church.
So, one has to accept the good and disregard the bad. Rauschenbush was a brilliant and passionate Christian. He was an excellent pastor and professor. He deserves our respect as one of the true prophetic minds of American theology. He had his extremes, but his heart was centred on Christ.
February 29, 2008
Here is an old classic by a liberal theologian. I find that reading an occasional liberal is good for at least two reasons. First, it helps keep me honest about what liberals really believe. There is too much of a tendency to build the proverbial “straw man” without reference to what the other person actually said. Second, it helps me evaluate my own evangelical theology by opening it up to others for scrutiny. Sometimes I find inadequacies exposed, other times I find my own faith strengthened, and on occasion I am inclined to make slight adjustments to my deeply held, evangelical convictions.
Walter Rauschenbusch (1861-1918) was the pastor of the Second German Baptist Church in New York City’s “Hell’s Kitchen,” where he encountered first hand the misery of the human condition in the immigrant underworld of Manhattan. In 1902 he was appointed professor of church history at Rochester Theological Seminary and in 1907 he published “Christianity and the Social Crisis,” which catapulted him to national notoriety for his concern over the social dimensions of Christianity. Several other important works followed, including “Christianizing the Social Order” (1912), “The Social Principles of Jesus” (1916) and his final work just a year before his death, “A Theology of the Social Gospel” (1917).
In “A Theology for the Social Gospel,” Rauschenbusch dismisses preachers for railing on private sins like drinking, dancing, card playing and movie going, while ignoring greater “social sins” like the oppression of the poor, bigotry, and child labor. Throughout his work he argues that salvation has been made to apply merely to the individual rather than to society as a whole. Central to his solution of this problem is the need to focus on the advancement of the Kingdom of God, rather than merely the salvation of individuals. He points us to the prophets and the ministry of Jesus where the emphasis was on the Kingdom of God, with only brief mention of the “church.”
However, Rauschenbusch’s understanding of the work of Christ which he enumerates in the final chapter of his book is classic theological liberalism. Christ did not die to expatiate the demands of a holy God, but rather to show us the awful nature of sin, the magnificence of the love of God, and the importance of having a prophetic voice in a corrupt society (Christ took a stand for righteousness though it cost him his life.)
While there is much I disagree with in Rauschenbusch’s thinking, there is also much here I would commend for evangelicals today. (Carl F. H. Henry picked up on these themes in his 1947 work “The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism.”) It is too bad that fundamentalists simply dismissed Rauschenbusch. Even today, evangelicals might learn something if they took time to listen to their critics.
Walter Rauschenbusch (1861-1918) was the pastor of the Second German Baptist Church in New York City’s “Hell’s Kitchen,” where he encountered first hand the misery of the human condition in the immigrant underworld of Manhattan. In 1902 he was appointed professor of church history at Rochester Theological Seminary and in 1907 he published “Christianity and the Social Crisis,” which catapulted him to national notoriety for his concern over the social dimensions of Christianity. Several other important works followed, including “Christianizing the Social Order” (1912), “The Social Principles of Jesus” (1916) and his final work just a year before his death, “A Theology of the Social Gospel” (1917).
In “A Theology for the Social Gospel,” Rauschenbusch dismisses preachers for railing on private sins like drinking, dancing, card playing and movie going, while ignoring greater “social sins” like the oppression of the poor, bigotry, and child labor. Throughout his work he argues that salvation has been made to apply merely to the individual rather than to society as a whole. Central to his solution of this problem is the need to focus on the advancement of the Kingdom of God, rather than merely the salvation of individuals. He points us to the prophets and the ministry of Jesus where the emphasis was on the Kingdom of God, with only brief mention of the “church.”
However, Rauschenbusch’s understanding of the work of Christ which he enumerates in the final chapter of his book is classic theological liberalism. Christ did not die to expatiate the demands of a holy God, but rather to show us the awful nature of sin, the magnificence of the love of God, and the importance of having a prophetic voice in a corrupt society (Christ took a stand for righteousness though it cost him his life.)
While there is much I disagree with in Rauschenbusch’s thinking, there is also much here I would commend for evangelicals today. (Carl F. H. Henry picked up on these themes in his 1947 work “The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism.”) It is too bad that fundamentalists simply dismissed Rauschenbusch. Even today, evangelicals might learn something if they took time to listen to their critics.
February 1, 2010
An interesting approach to a--still common today--problem: capitalization. Rauschenbusch goes to great lengths to convince us that the nature of all sin is essentially selfishness, and promotes a refining of theology to account for not just the biological implications of original sin, but the social context that is of more relevance to us today. While he positions himself as a liberal theologian, I can't help but wonder how tendencies for post-millenialism fit in: he argues most for the kingdom of God to return to earth not through the church (for the church has become a super-human entity), but through the collective individual advocating for unionization, shared property, and workers rights. Relevant, but slightly flawed in my perspective.
July 2, 2014
I know the words "important" and "revolutionary" get thrown around a lot when it comes to books. However, both apply here. Every Christian should read it. I haven't even finished processing it in my mind yet, but it has changed the way I see the gospel.
February 4, 2013
I wish I had read this book a long time ago. It contains much material that seems as relevant today as it was in 1918.
April 30, 2017
A lot of modern theology I find somewhat repugnant. Not shaken by the horrors of the 20th century the arrogance of modernists seeps into theology superimposing their principles on Christian theology in an awkward manner. Rauschenbusch offers some much needed correction to Christian theology, but ultimately fails to present a robust theological system.
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