Abstract
Jürgen Moltmann,
Ethics of Hope
, SCM Press: London, 2012; 271 pp.: 9780334044031, £40.00 (pbk)
Fifty years after the publication of Theology of Hope, Jürgen Moltmann gives us his eschatological ethics. In this rich book readers will find familiar Moltmann themes woven into a theological world-view that forms the basis for discussing key areas of ethical concern. He intends this work to be accessible, so there is less complex argument and fewer philosophical references than in many of his major works. Nevertheless, there is still Moltmann’s characteristic passion for articulating classic theological questions in the context of the challenges of contemporary life.
The first part, ‘Eschatology and Ethics’, begins with Kant’s famous questions – What can I know? What must I do? What can I hope for? For Moltmann, Christian knowledge is bound up with hope and future hope is the shaper of present action. He leads us through the history of Protestant eschatology, from the Lutheran doctrine of the Two Kingdoms to the post-liberalism of Stanley Hauerwas (seeing both escaping from a distinctively Christian public ethic). He prefers a ‘transformative eschatology’ which anticipates the new creation in Christ, an ethic that offers a genuine Christian alternative in the spirit of the Anabaptists, but retains the sense of responsibility and the principle of resistance characteristic of Lutheran and Reformed traditions.
In ‘A Culture of Life’ Moltmann argues against a prevailing culture of death – exemplified by terrorism, nuclear proliferation and ecological destruction and for a culture of love of life. Based on the synoptic teaching on the kingdom of God, Paul’s understanding of justification and the Johannine language of eternal life, this is a comprehensive vision of God’s ‘yes’ to life and love and ‘no’ to terror and death.
How does this vision play out in tough ethical questions? In medical ethics his ‘gospel of life’ produces quite conservative conclusions; he is ‘pro-life’ in a thorough-going way. As regards the beginning of life, he agrees with Karl Barth that the embryo must be accorded proper human dignity, even though there are situations when abortion is understandable. Similarly, he is sceptical of attempts to justify a ‘choice for death’, through involuntary or voluntary euthanasia. Christians bring to the present obsession with perfect bodies and machine-like performance a conviction that God has enabled us to value our transitory bodies and to see them in the context of resurrection.
‘Earth ethics’ gives a theological foundation for ecology as Moltmann returns to themes developed in God in Creation: the Gaia theory of a world organism and biblical references to the role of the earth in God’s coming salvation. ‘The true Creation is not behind us but ahead of us’ (p. 129). Not everyone will be convinced by this panentheism as a necessary basis for an ethic of interdependence and a move away from anthropocentrism.
With justice, righteousness and peace there is still concern for a theological basis for ethics. The results are less radical than we might expect. Moltmann does not argue for an out-and-out pacifism, but talks about a ‘Christian dual strategy for a just peace’ (p. 204). This requires both the Anabaptist commitment to ploughshares rather than swords and the traditional Protestant recognition that an unredeemed world needs legitimate order and – if need be – force.
Those who already know and admire Moltmann’s work will enjoy this book for the way it brings together so many of his theological themes and contextual concerns. Those who do not know his work will learn why he has been so influential for so long. Those who look for critical engagement will find here plenty of material for robust discussion.