§104. Second Doctrinal Proposition: Christ’s high-priestly office includes his complete fulfillment of the law, or his active obedience, his atoning death,¹ or his passive obedience, and his advocacy with the Father on behalf of the faithful.

1. This part of our account is chiefly concerned with the difficulty of making a presentation of Christ’s efficacious action overall under these three forms derived from the old covenant. This difficulty arises, on the one hand, because the analogy between what within Christ’s efficacious action would have to be taken into account here, if any room for it is to be found at all, and high-priestly functions are just not greatly apparent. The difficulty arises, on the other hand, because much among high-priestly functions that are thereby supposed to be depicted in Christ as well actually show up only in activities of the Redeemer that one might rather be inclined to assign to one of his other two offices.

To start with, the uncommon but supremely significant function of the high priest, that of receiving instructions from Jehovah in the holy of holies, finds no direct analogy in Christ’s functioning. Instead, inasmuch as Christ had received from his Father all the instructions that he imparted to his own followers,² we would find this function to be echoed chiefly in his prophetic activity. Then the blessings-wishes³ that the high priest expressed concerning the people brings to mind what we have earlier reckoned to Christ’s reconciling activity,⁴ though ecclesial doctrine has not expressly included it in that activity. Even so, Christ’s blessing can be no mere wish but is rather a true gift. Thus, he can also extend blessing only through what belongs to his activity of guiding and governing, just as the Epistle to the Hebrews has also⁵ definitely conceived of a kingly dignity beside that of a high priest.

Consequently, all that remains are Christ’s symbolic actions, whereby the main expression rests on what is done on the Day of Atonement.⁶ Yet, no relation of particular functions performed on that day to the special functions of Christ just noted here is to be thought of. Rather, if one views the high priest as head of the priesthood at the same time, so that its ordinances can also be traced back to him, then he would be the head functionary of the people before Jehovah, and thus this role would be fully expressed by the concept “substitution.” Yet, nothing is directly said regarding the legal requirement of perfection on the part of the high priest, and nothing is found that corresponds to an atoning death viewed as a “sacrifice.”

As regards the first notion, on the one hand, some allowance is to be made for the personal perfection imputed to the high priest as an essential quality, though above all the sinless perfection treated in the doctrine of Christ’s person7 directly corresponds to this perfection. Suppose, however, that we still have to take special notice of the fact that the official function of the Day of Atonement is nevertheless its most distinctive feature. Then, what we find is that before the high priest entered into this observance, the high priest had to purify himself in various ways and had to bring a sin-offering for himself and his household. By virtue of these preparations, he was then considered to be perfect, as was legally required.

As regards the second notion, concerning a sacrificial atoning death, in this context little value is to be placed in the fact that Christ offered himself up. That is to say, insofar as he was the one who was offering himself up, he is to be compared with a sacrifice, and this language usage is indeed not only also found in certain passages of Scripture,⁸ but this twofold reference to Christ as sacrificer and sacrifice is also carried over into some confessional writings as well.⁹ Thereby it is all the more necessary that we divorce the two descriptors from each other, and yet in those sources Christ is especially to be regarded as one who offers sacrifice. In that role, however, he is engaged in action; suffering, moreover, can be only an attendant feature and can be grounded only in his sympathy for sin, which, to be sure, is to be presupposed in the high priest, above all in his acts of atonement.

Still, a new difficulty enters in at this point: namely, that both Christ’s active obedience and his passive obedience entirely belong to his self-presentation, and consequently to his prophetic office, just as his intercession or advocacy, since it indeed cannot be thought of without its successful outcome, seems entirely to coincide with his governance. Thus, here too a distinction has to be made in both respects. That is, here Christ’s advocacy is to be depicted only to the extent that it is something different from his governance, and his twofold obedience is to be depicted only to the extent that it10 is something different from his self-presentation or his proclamation of the divine will by word and deed.

2. If we initially divide Christ’s obedience into active and passive obedience, the two are still not to be imagined as divided, as if they would have taken up different seasons of his life, which is commonly assumed, so that the passive obedience would have begun only with his arrest whereas the active obedience would have been expressed from the onset of his public life up until that point. The reason is as follows. First, in general no passivity¹¹ occurs without some countering effect, which always has the character of activity. Accordingly, we have particularly established regarding Christ¹² that no instant of his life could have been concluded without its also containing his powerful God-consciousness within it. Moreover, this God-consciousness could never exist except as activity, and even where this activity appears only as counteraction—as it surely does in his actual suffering—it could always be only the most complete fulfillment of the divine will. Likewise, his complete submission always exists simply as the crown in his life of active obedience—without complacency, on the one hand, and without bitterness or rancor on the other. In the same way, no activity exists without some occasion for it, which always presupposes a passive¹³ state, no less the case than that there is any activity without a limited result, and the attendant limitations are sensed, in any case, as something one has suffered.

Now, both those occasions for activity and those limitations of activity came to Christ out of the collective life of general sinfulness. As a result, for him every resistance he experienced in the course of his active life, every snare set by his opponents, but no less also the indifference with which many passed him by, would lead to suffering, because in these instances he felt sympathy for and thus bore the sin of the world. This suffering accompanied him throughout his entire life. Thus, when observed more closely, both active and passive obedience were bound together in every instant. The expression “passive obedience,” therefore, simply designates the state, pleasing to God and completely sufficient for God, of Christ’s receptivity to all that came to him from the collective life of sin. That is, he had this receptivity in that he took up all these things only in relation to the task he was to pursue by the strength of his God-consciousness and in that he did so in the fullest and purest fashion. The expression “active obedience” designates the coincident state of his self-initiated activity in relation to all that it was incumbent on him to do for that collective life which he had come to call into being, pursuing this task in such a way that as he faced all that lay before him, he never formed within himself any other aim than this one. Both states, however—receptivity and self-initiated activity, and consequently passive and active obedience—were present in every single element of Christ’s life.

Hence, it also follows that what Christ was doing could not have been redemptive without his suffering, nor could his suffering have had a reconciling effect without what he was doing. Likewise, redemption cannot be ascribed to his active obedience alone, nor can reconciliation be ascribed to his passive obedience alone. Rather, both redemption and reconciliation are to be ascribed to both these two states.

3. Suppose that with reference to his active obedience, thus defined, we now compare Christ with the high priest—having to focus, of course, only on the original institution of the latter’s practice, not on its eventual degeneration. Then the high priest would have been situated, by his being set apart and by the containment of his life within the precincts of the sanctuary,14 in such a favorable manner that it was not easy for him to neglect anything that belonged to his calling, nor did he find himself required to do anything that was not in accord with his dignity and that could thus have done damage to it. Accordingly, it was also far easier for him than for anyone else to guard against proscribed defilements.

These privileges in which the high priest engaged would have had to be attributed to human weakness if, in relationship to his people, he were supposed to have presented, even but symbolically, what Christ actually was in relationship to human beings. That is, in those days the people lived in constant danger of defilement, indeed in an almost constant awareness of that possibility. In contrast, in his segregation from all worldly affairs, the high priest also lived in detachment, indeed even from the most natural of duties as long as they could not be performed without even a slight defilement. He was supposed to present himself as one undefiled, who was as such also alone able to preside over the annual sacrifice of atonement, viewed as the completion15 of all the sacrifices that the people were ceaselessly offering through the priesthood as a whole. Likewise, in their dwelling more or less at a distance from the holy of holies, the people also seemed to be at a greater distance from God, which was but temporarily diminished in the fluctuation between times of worship and of ordinary occupations. In contrast, the high priest was supposed to bear within himself the counterweight to these wavering movements, in that he continually remained within the immediate precincts of the sanctuary, though he actually entered it only at prescribed times and for prescribed purposes.

Now, this very thing is also what is essential in the high-priestly value of Christ’s active obedience. That is to say, the very basis of our relationship to Christ lies in the fact that what he did not only completely corresponds to the divine will but also both purely and entirely expresses the domain of God-consciousness in human nature. Moreover, all that is distinctively Christian rests on this recognition. Precisely the following is implied therein: that apart from a connection¹⁶ with Christ, neither any individual human being nor any distinct part of the collective life of human beings, viewed in and of oneself or itself, would be righteous before God at any time whatsoever or would be an object of God’s good pleasure. Furthermore, just as the high priest alone, among the entire Jewish people, directly appeared before God, and just as God, as it were, saw the whole people only in him, so Christ is also our high priest because God sees us not as each individual in and of oneself but only in him.

When in living community with Christ, no one intends to be something in and of oneself nor even to be viewed by God in this way; rather, each individual intends to appear only as one animated¹⁷ by him and as a part of his work that is still involved in ongoing development. As a result, that which is not yet fully united¹⁸ with him is nonetheless referred to the same animating principle, itself viewed as that which is yet to be animated by him in the future. Therefore, just as was the case with the high priest, so here Christ is the one who purely presents us before God by virtue of his own perfect fulfillment of the divine will, for which the impulse is also effective in us by means of his life in us. The result is that in this interconnectedness19 with him, we are also objects of the divine good pleasure. For us, this is the distinct, and on Christian grounds indisputable, meaning of an oft-misunderstood expression, namely, the expression that Christ’s obedience is our righteousness or the expression that his righteousness is imputed to us.²⁰

These expressions are very easily misunderstood, but they are certainly not to be reasonably defended without the presupposition of a life held in common, which is in any case also most definitely presupposed in the concept of high priest. In this respect, moreover, we will also be in a position to distinguish the prophetic value of Christ’s obedience from the value of the high priest’s obedience. That is, belonging to Christ’s prophetic office is all that consists in proclamation, consequently also self-presentation, not only in words but in deed as well. This proclamation, however, is directed to human beings in relation to their difference from Christ, so as to make them receptive to union with him. In this way, moreover, Christ’s obedience in this active aspect is also held up as an example²¹ to all those who are in the church, in relation to their still persistent distinction from him. The high-priestly value of this active obedience, however, is related to his union with us—that is, to the extent that his pure intent to fulfill the divine will is effective in us too, by dint of the continuing community of life that exists between him and us. Further, we thus participate in his perfection, even if not in its execution then still by our own volition and being stimulated to action.²² In consequence, even though our union with Christ never develops in this way in its actual appearance, it is nonetheless recognized as absolute and eternal by God and is posited as such in our faith.²³

We have yet to enter protest against two things contained in the customary presentation of this matter. First, we must protest against people’s presenting Christ’s active obedience as a complete fulfillment of the divine law. The reason is as follows. In every instance, “law” designates a distinction and discord between a higher will that bids certain actions and an imperfect, subordinate will, and in this sense one must, to be sure, set forth the claim regarding Christ that he was not subject to the law.24 This is so even if one ascribes a twofold will to him by virtue of his having “two natures,” since then the two wills would indeed have to be in full agreement. Yet, at that point one also cannot say with any greater warrant that he, by his own free will, would have subjected himself to the law, for he could also not willingly have entered into conflict with the divine will, with the result that doing this could have become law for him. Instead, Christ’s active obedience lay in his perfect fulfillment of the divine will.²⁵

Suppose, however, that what is in question is the Mosaic law, insofar as it chiefly prescribed external actions and omissions. Then, in accordance with his personal existence he was, to be sure, subject to this law;²⁶ accordingly, it cannot be said that he would have undertaken to fulfill this Mosaic law by his own free will. Yet, the high-priestly value of his active obedience would not have laid in this fulfillment alone but would have done so only to the extent that this fulfillment was a part of his fulfillment of the divine will.

The second misconstrual that we must protest against is this: that, if one intends to express oneself with any accuracy, one also cannot say that Christ would have fulfilled the divine will in our place or for our benefit.

The first conception, regarding Christ’s fulfilling the divine will in our place, is mistaken for two reasons. First, it is mistaken in a sense in which no Christian disposition can wish for and no sound doctrine has ever expressed, namely, as if we would thereby have been relieved of fulfilling God’s will ourselves, since Christ’s supreme accomplishment does indeed consist in his animating us in such a way that an ever-increasing satisfaction of the divine will would also proceed from us.²⁷ This conception is also mistaken for a second reason, namely, as if the lack in God’s good pleasure that we come across in and of ourselves would have to be, or could be, covered, as it were, by a superfluity in Christ’s own gaining of God’s good pleasure. That is to say, since only what is perfect can stand before God, even Christ himself would have had nothing left over, as it were, that could be distributed among us. This would be true whether one were looking at the total satisfaction of fulfillment in terms of external actions—which conception, moreover, would be quite un-Protestant, for reasons that will more specifically arise later on—or even whether one is simply looking at purity of disposition within.

Thus, the second conception, that of Christ’s somehow in general fulfilling the divine will for our benefit, is also mistaken, as if Christ’s obedience, viewed in and of itself, would actually achieve anything for us or anything would be altered in relation to us. Rather, Christ’s overall obedience—δικαίωμα28—redounds to our benefit only inasmuch as our being taken up into community of life with him is effected by it and we are affected by him in this community; consequently, the principle that has motivated him becomes ours as well, just as we are also condemned by Adam’s sin only inasmuch as we all do sin ourselves, in a natural community of life with Adam and activated in the same fashion.²⁹

4. As further concerns Christ’s passive obedience, it has already been noted above that here any similarity with the high priest would be only an entirely general one. In consequence, by this reference we can no more explain an interconnection of Christ’s passive obedience with his redemptive and reconciling activity than there was any mention of the high priest’s enduring any evil done to him, whereas this experience is what Christ’s passive obedience is expressly understood to mean. Thus, what Christ was sensible of as one who was offering sacrifice and what he underwent as one who was sacrificed or as one offered in sacrifice are oddly blended together.

Now, if we examine this blending in a preliminary way, we will be led back to the fact that in every human community, to the extent that it can be viewed as a self-contained whole, there is as much evil as there is sin. As a result, evil is indeed punishment for sin. Not every individual, however, fully and exclusively suffers an evil that stands directly in connection with one’s personal sin.³⁰ Therefore, it can then be said that in every instance wherein another person endures evil that has no connection with that person’s own sin, that same person then suffers punishment for others. Moreover, since the causality of the person’s sin will have come to an end, these others will no longer encounter this evil by virtue of their sin. In comparison, in order to take us up into community with his life, Christ would first have to have entered into our community. This he did, without any sin, and hence from his existence no evil could emerge within the community of sinful life, even though there evil is being engendered over and over again with sin and from it. Hence, it must be said of him that what he has suffered in this community, of a sort that it had its basis in sin and given that he was not suffering from natural evil, he would have suffered for those with whom he was standing in community—that is, for the entire human race. He belongs to the whole human race, moreover, not only because no particular community within it can be completely divorced from that whole but also by his own determinate will. This is the case for two reasons. First, both in actual deed, already by his appearance as prototype, and particularly in his consciousness, the distinction between Jew and Gentile was abolished. Second, on the one hand, not only had his activity already had a bearing on the Gentiles, at least indirectly; but, on the other hand, particularly in the last days of his life as his suffering was being occasioned—both Jewish and Gentile society encircling him in the form of spiritual and worldly authority—both were representing31 the sin of the entire world.

Suppose, however, that we disregard these evils borne through suffering, evils which do not actually bear a high-priestly character in themselves, and consider the suffering that Christ received in his high-priestly role. Then it is patent that his compassion³² regarding sin, as in a human sense that compassion existed within him and as that compassion was conditioned by what lay before him, had to have arisen to its greatest peak when the two chief classes of sinners were together arrayed against the sinless existence of his person. Just as this compassion in the face of human guilt and culpability was the initial occasion that motivated redemption, inasmuch as a distinct impression precedes every distinct human self-initiated activity, so too the greatest heightening of precisely this compassion was the direct inspiration that lay behind the greatest element in the work of redemption. Moreover, just as victory over sin then arose from this element³³ but its connection with evil was also overcome, so too one can also say, in comparing like with like, that by Christ’s suffering, punishment was also removed. This happened because in community with his blessed life, that evil which was only then in the process of disappearing was being, at the very least, no longer received as punishment.³⁴

Now, what has just been expounded here comprises the meaning of the expressions—in the distinctive domain of Christianity, in general terms easily understood and easily defended though often contested from outside it—that by his free surrender in suffering and death to divine justice, viewed as that which has ordained the connection that exists between sin and evil, Christ gave satisfaction and has thereby freed us from punishment for sin.35 Moreover, it must be possible to infer from this presentation everything viewed as an appropriation of his suffering that has ever proven fruitful for Christian piety—that is, everything apart from that prototypical value of Christ’s suffering which belongs to his prophetic office. Indeed, even that form of this piety which occasionally appears to be one-sided, and which, as it were, focuses the entire power of redemption exclusively in Christ’s suffering and thus finds its satisfaction in this suffering alone, can be very well understood on this basis. That is to say, his absolutely self-denying love is indeed manifested to us in his suffering unto death—itself evoked by his unfailing perseverance. Moreover, in this love we come to realize in utmost clarity how it was that God was in him reconciling the world to Godself, just as we most fully come to share a feeling of how unshakable his blessedness was in his suffering. This is why one can say that the conviction of his holiness as well as of his blessedness always becomes clear to us above all from our being engulfed in his suffering. Furthermore, just as Christ’s active obedience has its actual high-priestly value chiefly in the fact that, in Christ, God sees us as partners in his obedience,³⁶ so the high-priestly value of his passive obedience consists chiefly in the fact that we see God in Christ and see Christ as the most immediate partaker of that eternal love which has sent and equipped him.

It might now be scarcely necessary to make a comparative review of this simple presentation with those spuriously constructed presentations37 which cannot assemble reasons enough, of whatever varied sort they may be, to declare the necessity of Jesus’ suffering and death. Yet, there are some misunderstandings left which we have to renounce.

The first misunderstanding is the following. If we directly gain a true understanding of Christ in a particularly striking fashion from his suffering, this offers no justification for what is at play in the so-called wounds theology, which was once very widespread but is already almost obsolete today. This theology has thought to find the profound meaning of Christ’s suffering in its sensory details, hence has broken the whole of Christ’s suffering into pieces to play around with allegorically. Underlying this theological process is a displacement that transfers to his high-priestly dignity what can be attributed to Christ only as sacrifice. That is, the sacrifice is itself far from being any sort of self-initiated activity, and in that sacrifice everything is confronted only in a completely passive way. Accordingly, in Christ too there would have been no decision to be a sacrifice whatsoever with respect to these details, thus for him they would not at all have been regarded as elements of that sacrifice.

The second misunderstanding lies in people’s claiming the formula—quite right in the sense indicated above—that punishment’s being removed by Christ’s suffering is to be understood in such a way that he would have borne the punishment himself. That is, the mistaken view is that Christ’s suffering was equal to the sum total of evils proportionate to the punishment due for the sins of humankind and that without it God’s justice would have remained unsatisfied. Naturally, since on this basis the total sin of the human race can only be posited to be infinite, an infinite amount of suffering follows. Now, suppose the following. First, suppose that Christ’s suffering and death indeed occurred in a restricted, distinct stretch of time and suppose that it was related to a capacity actually to suffer that is infinitely lowered by the higher spiritual power in Christ. Then suppose that this suffering and death is nevertheless to be equalized with the pictured infinite totality of human suffering due. On this basis, it is scarcely to be denied that one would also infer, in a supplementary fashion, that even the “divine nature” in him would have suffered.³⁸ This latter account of the matter, which contradicts the incapacity of Christ’s “divine nature” to suffer that has also been recognized in this doctrine from ancient times onward, certainly cannot withstand any strong attack from opponents.

This misunderstanding first reaches its full extent, however, in the assumption that Christ’s suffering would, in the still narrower sense, lie in the transference of punishment to him. Therein God—who, in accordance with the ecclesial doctrine itself, is nevertheless generally not viewed as the author of punishment—would have ordained for the Redeemer suffering as punishment for sin. In consequence, Christ would also have had to have a sense of the primary and most immediate aspect of his suffering, namely, the divine wrath over sin, as something encountering him and resting upon him. Such is the case, on the one hand, for this theory abrogates all human verity in Christ’s human consciousness if he were supposed to have had what, by the nature of the case, could only be compassion in him as his own personal self-consciousness.39 On the other hand, undeniably underlying this theory is the presupposition of an absolute necessity of divine punishment, even without its having any natural connection with wickedness.⁴⁰ Moreover, this presupposition, in turn, is hardly to be divorced from a notion of divine justice that is transferred to God from the most brutal of human conditions.

Suppose that we then take these two features together, as they are combined in the notion “vicarious satisfaction.”⁴¹ Then we might well have to concede that it would not be suitable to mark out this notion as the one in which these aspects of Christ’s high-priestly work⁴² would be summed up. Yet, perhaps the protestation against this expression—indeed, already multiply disputed but repeatedly retaining currency in the church—cannot be presented more effectively than by showing how it would have to be reinterpreted if we were to make any valid use of it. That is, instead of referring it homogenously to both active and passive obedience as one, as it gives itself out to be, we would rather have to divide it. Thus, the “vicarious” part would be referring only to Christ’s passive obedience and, in contrast, the “satisfaction” part would be referring only to his active obedience. That is to say, Christ has indeed done enough for us,43 in that by the totality of what he did he has become not only the onset of redemption at one point in time but also the eternally inexhaustible source of a spiritual and blessed life, sufficient for every further unfolding of redemption. This satisfaction, however, is in no sense vicarious, either in such a way that we ourselves could have been expected to have the capacity to start off this spiritual life on our own devices or even in such a way that by Christ’s feat we would be relieved of the necessity to advance this spiritual life in community with him by our own self-initiated activity.

In contrast, Christ’s suffering⁴⁴ is vicarious, to be sure, and it is so with respect to both of the components of his life just mentioned. This is so, for he fully bore compassion regarding sin, even toward those who had not themselves yet felt a lack of blessedness through their consciousness of sin. However, the evil that he suffered was vicarious in that general sense in which one in whom human evil is not present is also not supposed to suffer, but if that person does nonetheless receive evil, that same person is thus struck by it in the place of those in whom human evil is present. Yet, in no way does this vicarious suffering make satisfaction. It does not do this in the first case, because those who have not yet felt a lack of blessedness still have to get to that point before they can be taken up into community by him. It does not do this in the second case, because it does not exclude further suffering of the same sort. Rather, all those who are taken up into community of life with Christ share in his suffering⁴⁵ until such time as sin has been totally vanquished in the human race, satisfactorily accomplished through suffering. Until that time, however, every bit of suffering will always bear a vicarious character, even suffering by one who is relatively innocent.

Suppose, however, that we would want to view these two aspects of Christ’s high-priestly office indivisibly, consequently in such a way that Christ’s suffering can also be embedded in his actual doing. Then, in reversing the expression, we will be able to call Christ our vicar, who makes satisfaction in our place.46 We can do so in the following sense. On the one hand, by virtue of his prototypical dignity, in his redemptive activity he represents the consummation of human nature in such a way that by virtue of our having become one with him, God sees and values the totality of the faithful only in him. On the other hand, his compassion with respect to sin was strong enough to produce redemptive activity sufficient to bring all humanity into his community of life. Moreover, the absolute power of this compassion, most fully presented in his freely giving himself over unto death, serves over and over again to make up for and improve upon⁴⁷ our own incomplete consciousness of sin. Precisely as the high priest’s restorative sacrifice also referred above all to those trespasses which had not been taken into people’s consciousness—so that his compassion, regarded as the source of that observance, took the place of that consciousness, and the people felt themselves to be free of all concern regarding divine punishment for past sins—it was as if each person had accomplished what should have issued from this consciousness of sin, in accordance with the law.

At this juncture only one misunderstanding is yet to be averted, the belief that Christ’s giving himself over unto death has to be set forth as a free decision in any sense other than that which underlies our discussion here, namely, that Christ’s surrender has been one and the same thing with his perseverance in redemptive activity. The reason is that if we stray from this underlying meaning, Christ’s suffering, inasmuch as it has to be viewed as his action, will seem to be arbitrary, because at that point he would have to have decided straightaway to undergo the suffering as such. Moreover, what is viewed as a divine institution would be that senseless necessity for retribution which we have dismissed earlier, and what is viewed as an exercise of Christ’s free choice would amount to arbitrary self-torture and would be a model for those arbitrary mortifications of the Roman church by the assuming of which one person could also release another from punishment. At that point, the next step would be to look out lest death by one’s own free will, even of the sort that is simply unchristian, should appear to be justifiable by Christ’s example—and it would not be possible to disregard how such an implication were to be drawn. All this would follow, for if we wish to uphold the truth of customary human nature48 in Christ, then in this relation too we are obliged to ascribe to him no maxims other than those we must recognize to be applicable to us all. Otherwise, the prototypical character of his life would be endangered; and, along with it, the original character of his life would be endangered at the same time. Thus, insofar as self-preservation is generally a duty, it must also be true for Christ that inasmuch as he saw his death coming in advance, and there was some means to avoid it without violation of duty, he would also have had to use that means in this situation, as he had done earlier.⁴⁹ It was only the act of bidding angels to serve him⁵⁰ or the act of drawing upon anything miraculous to aid him in this battle that he could not feel bound to do. He must, then, have to have taken it up as his vocational duty⁵¹ to appear at this festival in the holy city, despite his prescience.⁵² Moreover, it unquestionably belongs to the complexity of this great turning point that Christ likewise met his death in zeal for his calling also with respect to his Father’s law, just as his opponents—the best among them, at least—sentenced him to death in their vocational zeal for the law.

For all that, suppose that we also still want to consider precisely this matter from the standpoint of the divine decree. Then we would surely concede that it behooved the “perfecter of our faith”⁵³ to die a death such that it would not be a sheer event but, at the same time, would be a feat in the most elevated sense of the word, so that herein as well he could make known the full dominion of the spirit over the flesh. In a death from natural causes, whether it be by an accidental illness or from the weakness of advanced age, this feat could always seem only incidental and could never come into view so graphically. This danger too, however, namely, lest what was voluntary in Jesus’ death would be sorted out in a dubious manner, will best be obviated if we stick with the method of handling such matters that we have used up to now but make really good use of it. Thereby we notice that the atoning sacrifice54 of the high priest was also an observance freely entered into but in accordance with his calling. Further, on the one hand, it too was conditioned by the sins of the people and, on the other hand, it too was following an established divine ordinance, without any arbitrariness of the high priest’s own.

5. In the end, it scarcely seems possible for Christ’s advocacy⁵⁵ to be separated in any way from Christ’s kingly office. This is the case if one takes the word in its usual meaning—less definitely in its standing for “carrying out the business of another,” more definitely and closer to the biblical expression in its standing for “bringing someone’s wishes before a third party and urging that they be granted.” That is to say: How is one to distinguish what Christ is thought to be obtaining from his Father from what he himself brought forth and determined as king by means of laws and administrative arrangements? Thus, if the expression is to have any truth in it and, at the same time, is not, as an undefined middle term, to muddle the presentation of it, then we must do the following. On the one hand, we must limit it to subjects that do not belong to Christ’s reign, or at least not entirely so. On the other hand, however, this part of his efficacious action would also have to have been going on already during his life here, just as the other parts did, else he would also not have been a high priest in full standing.

The New Testament passages on which this expression is chiefly grounded⁵⁶ offer little definite guidance, in that it is not clear that all of them have the high priest in mind; rather, they seem more likely to proceed from various points of view. It would be better, therefore, that we hold on to the concept of high-priestly functioning and to draw primarily from Christ’s appearing before God on our behalf.57 Moreover, if the distinction we have seen is to be observed in the process, his advocacy will chiefly have a twofold content. In the first place, Christ appears for us before the Father so as to start off our community with the Father. In the second place, however, he does this so as to support our own prayer before the Father. The explanation is as follows. Christ’s reign does indeed stretch only over those who have already been taken up into community of life with him, and the gradual attachment of individuals to this government depends on divine leading in relation to them in this community of life. However, this community of life with Christ is then everywhere solicited by Christ on our behalf and is granted by God for his sake. Accordingly, we have an indication of the memorable fact of this advocacy not only in his high-priestly prayer but also in all that he said about his prayer,⁵⁸ not excluding what seems to be mutually contradictory, and so also in what was said about it otherwise.⁵⁹ As regards other testimony, even if we were to proceed entirely from the claim that what does not belong to God’s reign also ought not to be an object of our prayer,⁶⁰ nevertheless, on the one hand, even particulars within the spiritual domain do not belong so entirely to that reign of God that they would not also interconnect with God’s general governance of the world, and, on the other hand, these particulars would not be entirely determined by the general prescriptions and arrangements that we actually derive from Christ’s kingly office. Moreover, in that Christ bids us to pray to the Father ourselves, so the surety of that same sanctifying collaboration of Christ as purification and replenishment of our God-consciousness is already implied in the fact that it is to be prayer in Christ’s name.⁶¹

Now, this collaboration is his advocacy for us in the sense that only through him does our prayer come before God in a well-pleasing and effective manner. Thus, by virtue of his relationship to us, grounded as it is in his distinctive dignity, he remains an advocate on behalf of the entire human race. He does so in that, like the high priest, he brings our prayer before God and delivers divine blessings⁶² to us. Still, faith in that aspect of his work which extends beyond the course of Christ’s life on earth in no way depends on any supposed information, in any case denied us, concerning the actual nature of his condition afterward. Rather, it depends only on the content and value—as was established above—of his personal existence63 in relation to God and to us.

6. Now, just as, according to all the above considerations, Christ is at the apex of priesthood and even beyond all comparison with the high priest, so too he is, at the same time, the end of all priesthood. This is so, for what is essential in that concept, of which every earlier priesthood is, however, only an incomplete indication, is posited in Christ in an eternal fashion and absolutely so. That is to say, for all times he is the most complete mediator between God and every single part of the human race. In general terms, no member of that race could, in and of oneself, be an object for God nor enter into any kind of alliance with God. The eternal priesthood is known, and is the true one; therefore, now no arbitrarily contrived, merely imitative priesthood can exist any longer, nor any sacrifice either. Instead, all human institutions of this sort are done away with. At the same time, however, the high-priestly activity of Christ has passed over into the communal body⁶⁴ of the faithful, in such a way that Christians as a whole are called a priestly people.⁶⁵

Two things are obviously implied in this designation, however. First, among those very people all distinction between priests and laity is dissolved. Even the apostles never attributed anything priestly to themselves in any proper sense. In this perspective, then, the return of the priesthood in the church has to be regarded as one of the most enormous of all misunderstandings. Yet, second, the totality of Christendom, viewed as that part of humanity which is already connected with the Redeemer, relates to the rest of humanity as the priests were related to laity. That is to say, only to the extent that a real community of life with Christ is occurring in at least one part of the human race is Christ’s relation to the rest of the species also found to be in place. Thus, in this sense the communal body of the faithful, viewed as inseparable from Christ, also makes its appearance before God on behalf of the entire human race and advocates for it. In contrast, there can be no talk whatsoever of any sort of special intercession and advocacy of some individual from the communal body of those who have passed away.66 Likewise, all the activity of this totality of Christendom on behalf of the gospel⁶⁷ belongs to Christ’s active obedience. On the other hand, nothing of a meritorious character deriving from good works of the faithful follows from this activity for the gospel. The same thing goes, moreover, for all suffering for the gospel’s sake in the broadest sense in which it belongs to Christ’s reconciling suffering.⁶⁸ However, nothing follows from this activity for the gospel that would support willful mortifications, any more than there was anything willful in Christ’s suffering.⁶⁹ Thus, Christ remains the end of all priesthood, because all of this collective activity is simply high-priestly inasmuch as it is really, at the same time, Christ’s feat and Christ’s suffering.

These final considerations so obviously follow that they alone should suffice for this mode of presenting the matter of the high-priestly office, disputed among all the recent dogmaticians since Ernesti,⁷⁰ to keep its place in our doctrinal corpus.

1. Versöhnenden Tod. Ed. note: Cf. §104n4 below; see also §101n1 and n18 there. Except in this proposition, Versöhnung is always translated “reconciliation.” The German language has no other word for the general concept “atonement,” only words that reflect specific theories of it (e.g., Sühnopfer). In ecclesiology the more direct counterpart to this proposition is presented in §§136–42, on baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

2. John 7:16; 8:26; and 17:8. Ed. note: Sermons only on (1) John 7:14–24, Feb. 20, 1825, SW II.8 (1837), 16–31; and (2) John 8:20–29, May 8, 1825, SW II.9 (1847), 83–94.

3. Segenswünsche. Ed. note: Not only or strictly Segensspruche (benedictions), rather including all wishes or prayers for what Jehovah might send among the chosen people—godsends, blessings.

4. Versöhnenden Tätigkeit. Ed. note: Cf. §101, also §104n1 just above.

5. Ed. note: Clemen has auch here, not nicht (not). Hebrews 9–11 depicts Christ as abolishing the day-by-day sacrifices by the high priest, this through God’s forgiveness of sins in Christ’s final sacrifice, whence he became judge over all and will come again in this kingly role.

6. Versöhnungstage.

7. Ed. note: See §98.

8. Eph. 5:2; Heb. 9:26.

9. (1) Apology Augsburg (1531) 24: “Therefore let this remain the case, that the death of Christ alone is truly an atoning sacrifice [propitionem sacrificium].” (2) Anglican Articles of Religion (1571) 31: “The offering [oblatio] of Christ, once made, is the perfect redemption, propitiation, and satisfaction for all the sins of the whole world.” (3) Similarly in the Tetrapolitan Confession (1530) 19 and (4) Declaratio Toruniensus (Acta synodua generalis Toruniensus, 1645), 425. Ed. note: (1) ET Book of Concord (2000), 262; Latin and German: Bek. Luth. (1963), 356. (2) The quote is from the 1562 Latin edition; ET Creeds, vol. 3 (1919), 507. (3) ET Cochrane (1972), 76–78; Latin: Niemeyer (1840), 761f. (4) Latin: Niemeyer (1840), 681.

10. Er. Ed. note: This reading follows the use of er in the first and third editions, as does Schäfer in KGA I/13, so that the word er is taken to refer, more appropriately, to “obedience,” not sie, present in other editions and referring to “governance.”

11. Leiden. Ed. note: This is the German word for both “passivity” and “suffering.”

12. In §94.2.

13. Ed. note: Both Redeker and Schäfer note that the first edition of 1822 (KGA I/7.2, 87) has the word “passive” (leidentlich), as here, but Redeker keeps the apparently mistaken word “passionate” (leidenschaftlichen). If Schleiermacher had intended to change the word, it would have been to emphasize that Christ’s passion (Leidenschaft, Passion) occurred not simply at his death but throughout his public life.

14. Heiligtum. Ed. note: In this discussion, this term is consistently used for the innermost sanctuary, or holy of holies (Allerheiligste), within the temple’s sanctuary.

15. Ergänzung. Ed. note: That is, this ceremony was the one annual event that gave uttermost expression to the meaning of all other sacrifices offered throughout the year.

16. Verbindung. Ed. note: Or “union,” as in the bond or union between two persons in marriage. In this same context, a similar connection is denoted in the terms Vereinigung (union, alliance), Gemeinschaft (community, communion), and Zusammenhang (interconnectedness). In no case is a total merging or identity implied. Here God’s “will,” or “good pleasure,” refers exclusively to the single eternal divine decree of redemption, of which the ultimate human mediator or conveyor is Christ. How God will have brought this decree to fulfillment within the creation or preservation of human nature through the ages is not discussed at this juncture; thus, no direct implication regarding the relation of Christianity to other modes of faith or to other religions is to be drawn from this statement.

17. Beseelt. Ed. note: Or “ensouled.” The Latinate form seems more directly to express an activity that itself activates, not simply implants.

18. Vereinigte.

19. Zusammenhang.

20. (1) Solid Declaration (1577) 3: “Therefore, his obedience consists not only in his suffering and death but also in the fact that he freely put himself in our place under the law and fulfilled the law with this obedience and reckoned it to us as righteousness.” (2) Belgic Confession (1561) 22: “Jesus Christ, imputing to us all his merits and so many holy works, which he hath done for us and in our stead, is our righteousness.” Ed. note: (1) ET Book of Concord (2000), 564; Latin and German: Bek. Luth. (1963), 918f. (2) ET Creeds, vol. 3 (1919), 408; Latin: Niemeyer (1840), 374.

21. Phil. 2:5–8; 1 Pet. 2:21. Ed. note: Sermons on (1) Phil. 2:5–11, May 17 and June 9, 1822, SW II.10 (1856), 492–526, and (2) 1 Pet. 2:20–22, May 3, 1829, SW II.4 (1835), 765–77, and (1844), 233–45.

22. Cf. §88.3.

23. Ed. note: Cf. §14.1.

24. To be sure, this is not, however, what is meant in Solid Declaration (1577) 3: “He was thus as little under the law, since he was Lord of the law, as he was obligated to suffer and die for himself.” Ed. note: ET Book of Concord (2000), 364; Latin and German: Bek. Luth. (1963), 918.

25. John 4:34; 5:19, 30; and 6:38. Ed. note: Sermons on John 4:25–34, Mar. 28, 1824, on 5:16–23, June 13, 1824, and on 6:36–44, Nov. 14, 1824, all in SW II.8 (1837), 279–90, 331–46, and 430–32.

26. Gal. 4:4. Ed. note: See §12n5 and n7.

27. John 15:2, 5, 8, and 11. Ed. note: Sermons on John 15:1–17, July 2 and 16, 1826, SW II.9 (1847), 469–94.

28. Ed. note: “act of righteousness” (cf. Rom. 5:18, also cited just below).

29. Rom. 5:12, 18. Ed. note: Cf. sermon on Rom. 5:7–8, on the theme “Christ’s Death as the Most Sublime Glorification of God’s Love for Us,” Good Friday, April 20, 1832, first published in 1832, then in SW II.3 (1835), 242–52, and (1843), 252–63; ET Wilson (1890), 372–84.

30. Cf. §77. Ed. note: Just above and continually here, “evil” translates Übel, not Böse (human evil).

31. Repräsentierend.

32. Mitgefühl. Ed. note: Or attitude of “sympathy,” as in some other contexts here.

33. John 12:24. Ed. note: Sermon on John 12:20–26, Feb. 5, 1826, SW II.9 (1847), 320–42. Here, as usual, “element” translates Moment. If Schleiermacher had meant exclusively the “moment” of crucifixion, he would probably have used Zeitpunkt or Augenblick. Here, in contrast, the emphasis is placed on Christ’s compassion overall, which he indeed took to have reached its “peak” in Christ’s last days, as he indicated just above.

34. Rom. 8:28. Ed. note: Sermon, Nov. 23, 1806, SW II.1 (1834), 251–65.

35. (1) Second Helvetic Confession (1566) 15: “Therefore, solely on account of Christ’s sufferings and resurrection God is propitious with respect to our sins,” etc. (2) The First Basel Confession (1534) 4: “We believe … That Christ made satisfaction to God for our sins … and by his death has conquered and overcome the world,” etc. (3) Scots Confession (1560) 9: “We avow that … he suffered in body and soul to make the full satisfaction for the sins of the people,” etc. (4) Luther’s Larger Catechism (1529) on the Second Article of the Creed: “He suffered, died, and was buried so that he might make satisfaction for me and pay what I owed.” Ed. note: (1) ET Cochrane (1972), 256; Latin only: Creeds, vol. 3 (1919), 266. Cf. §37n3. (2) ET Cochrane (1972), 92; Latin: Niemeyer (1840), 90. Schleiermacher refers to this as the Mylhus Confession. After its initial drafting by Basel pastor John Oecolampadius (1482–1531) in 1531, shortly before he died, it was revised by his successor Oswald Myconius (1488–1552) and then officially issued in 1534 at Basel. (3) ET drawn from original English and Latin versions in Creeds, vol. 3 (1919), 447, also Cochrane (1972), 170; cf. an inferior Latin version in Niemeyer (1840), 344, and a closely related ET by Bulloch (1960). (4) ET Book of Concord (2000), 434; Latin and German: Bek. Luth. (1963), 652.

36. Ed. note: In this and the previous sentence, the three successive allusions are to 2 Cor. 5:19 (“reconciling …”), and then, apparently, to 1 Pet. 4:13 (“engulfed [Versinken] …,” actually “sharing in” Christ’s suffering) and to Rom. 8:17.

37. Among others Reinhard, Dogmatik (1818) §§107–8, 401ff. Redeker note: “Reinhard indicates nine reasons for Jesus’ death, among them (2) he served as an example of how one is to behave in time of need, (5) thereby Jesus was formed into the compassionate ruler of the world, and (9) Jesus underwent death in a substitutionary manner. The ninth reason Reinhard then fully explicates.” Ed. note: Schäfer (KGA I/13.2, 142f.) briefly quotes (also in German) all nine reasons, the ninth of which was that Jesus’ death “especially should serve to free human beings from guilt and punishment for sin; hence, he was supposed to be acting vicariously, mors vicaria.”

38. This is not unclearly articulated in the overall context of Solid Declaration 3, cited above [cf. §104.3], though in general the proposition that the divine nature does not suffer is to remain literally valid. That is to say, at the same time the claim is made that Christ’s human nature became capable of suffering only through its union with the divine nature, which actually means by the divine nature. Also in agreement with this position is the fact that this confession, which is admittedly open to marked critique, also teaches the opposite of what has been set forth here in saying: “We reject the view … that faith looks not to Christ’s obedience alone but to his divine nature, as it dwells in us, and that through this indwelling our sins are covered in God’s sight.” Ed. note: ET Book of Concord (2000), 573; Latin and German: Bek. Luth. (1963), 935.

39. I was delighted to read that even the dearly departed Johann Jacob Hess (1741–1828) could not bring himself to view the passage Matt. 27:46 [“Why hast thou forsaken me?”] as Christ’s description of his own wretched condition but only as the beginning of the Psalm [22:1] that is cited in relation to what follows there. Ed. note: See Schleiermacher’s sermon on Matt. 27:46, April 1, 1821, SW II.2 (1834), 399–416.

40. Böse. Ed. note: As usual here, this term is translated “wickedness,” an evil attributable to humanity. However, in this context, as usually, what can be literally “bad” extends to all human action, not to moral action alone.

41. Ed. note: The quoted notion is stellvertretende Genugtuung. Here Redeker quotes from Hess’s Lebensgeschichte Jesu, Bd. 2 (1794), 458f. Hess was a pastor in Zurich, having grown up in a Herrnhuter household. The first edition of his famous Geschichte der drei letzten Lebensjahre Jesus appeared in 1768–1773.

42. Ed. note: Redeker aptly notes that Geschäftes (“work”), used in the first edition (1822) in §125.4, is possibly preferable to Geschlechts (“lineage”), used in the second edition (1831). Both Peiter (KGA I/7.2, 94f.) and Schäfer (KGA I/13.2, 145) use Geschäftes.

43. Genug für uns getan.

44. Ed. note: Here we are to recall that “suffering” (Leiden) has a predominately “passive” (leidend) character in Christ’s obedience. Both meanings have in common a quality of undergoing something.

45. Matt. 10:24–28; John 15:18–21. Ed. note: In this sharing of Christ’s suffering, they are similarly “reproved” (verweisen in these texts within the German Bible). There are four sermons on these two texts: (1–2) Matt. 10:21–26 and 26–27, Sept. 9 and 23, 1821, SW II.10 (1856), 253–90; (3) Matt. 10:28, New Year’s Day, 1807, SW II.1 (1834), 281–97, ET Lawler, Fifteen Sermons (2003), 86–107; and (4) John 15:18–16:4, July 30, 1826, SW II.9 (1847), 495–509.

46. Unsern genugtuenden Stellvertreter. Ed. note: That is, the one who represents us, who advocates for us in the process of satisfying God’s justice (Gerichtigkeit, also the word for “righteousness,” the term used in the confessions cited here).

47. Zur Ergänzung und Vervollständigung. Ed. note: That is, respectively, “restorative” or “complementary” action in the face of our deficiency and “transformative” or “completing” activity in view of our destiny as human beings.

48. Der menschlich sittlichen Natur. Ed. note: For Schleiermacher, normally what is sittlich (a matter of custom) covers the entire domain of human nature, thus of human action in contrast to physical nature as such. Thus, it is not restricted to the moral domain.

49. Luke 4:30; John 8:59. Ed. note: Sermon on John 8:46–59, June 19, 1825, SW II.9 (1847), 123–37.

50. Matt. 26:53.

51. Berufspflicht. Ed. note: In the cited passage, Christ’s teaching about his calling “to communicate eternal life in the reign of God” is listed as one of three essential pieces of his teaching, none of which is to be divorced from the others. This calling (Beruf) distinctly relates to Christ’s activity. The other two pieces have to do with his person and his relationship to God.

52. Matt. 16:21 and in other locations; cf. John 11:7–9 and 56. Ed. note: Until the critical edition in KGA I/13.2 (2003) the second passage was wrongly cited as John 4:7–9, 56. Sermons on (1) John 11:1–14, Nov. 6, 1825, SW II.9 (1847), 238–50, and (2) John 11:53–12:8, Jan. 8, 1826, SW II.9 (1847), 292–304.

53. Ed. note: Heb. 12:1–3 reads: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us also set aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted” (RSV, ital. added). In addition to a sermon outline on this passage, April 11, 1800, on “Grounds Christ’s Death Gives Us for Being Moved to Let Go of Our Sins,” see sermon excerpt on Heb. 12:1–2, “The Sanctifying [heiligende] Influence of Our Redeemer’s Suffering,” published by Johannes Bauer, “Aus einer bisher ungekannten Predigt Schleiermachers von Sonntag Invocavit, 8 Feb. 1818,” Christliche Welt 24, no. 6 (February 1910): 121–23.

54. Versöhnungsopfer. Ed. note: Cf. §104n1 above.

55. Vertretung.

56. Rom. 8:34; Heb. 7:25; 1 John 2:1, wherein it is to be noted, nonetheless, that the two expressions “intercessor” (ὑπερεντ#gyχάνειν) and “comforter” (παράκλητος) are also used regarding the Holy Spirit elsewhere. Ed. note: See Rom. 8:26 and John 14:26 regarding the Holy Spirit’s advocacy.

57. Heb. 9:24.

58. John 14:16; 16:26; 17:9; and Luke 22:32. Ed. note: Clemen rightly corrected the original incorrect citations to John 16:46 and Luke 22:31. Sermons on John 14:7–17 and 16:23–33, May 21 and Sept. 24, 1826, SW II.9 (1847), 428–42 and 537–48. The cited passages refer, respectively, (1) to “another Counselor,” whom Christ promises to send from the Father “to be with you” and “in you”; (2) to prayer in Christ’s name; (3) to Christ’s praying especially for those the Father has given him, not directly “for the world”; and (4) to his saying to Simon Peter, “I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail; and when you have turned again, strengthen your brethren” (RSV).

59. Luke 6:12, etc., and Heb. 5:7.

60. Matt. 6:33.

61. Ed. note: See §147 below.

62. Segnungen. Ed. note: That is, God’s own delivery of what would be well for us, well-being, not literally the same as blessedness (Seligkeit).

63. Persönlichkeit. Ed. note: Virtually always, in Schleiermacher’s usage this word also refers to the general mode of one’s existence as a person, not to details of one’s “personality.” The reference is to Christ’s actual existence there and then, not to information such as that in Heb. 12:2 about his being “seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (cited in §104n53 above), especially if taken literally.

64. Gemeine. See §148n7.

65. As in 1 Pet. 2:9. Ed. note: Literally, “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people” (RSV).

66. Gallican Confession (1559) 24: “We believe that as Jesus Christ is our only advocate, … all imaginations of men concerning the intercession of dead saints are an abuse and a device of Satan to lead men from the right way of worship.” Ed. note: ET and French in Creeds, vol. 3 (1919), 373, also Cochrane (1972), 156; Latin: Niemeyer (1840), 335. Here Schleiermacher uses the concept “communal body” instead of “dead saints.” Likewise, in the Roman Symbol (alias Apostles’ Creed) widely used today, the last phrase in the main text is Gemeine der Vollendeten, called “the communion of saints” (communio sanctorum). This phrase was not present in earlier versions and was sometimes omitted since the Reformation.

67. Ed. note: The last part of 1 Pet. 2:9 (quoted in §104n65 just above, RSV) continues: “that you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of the darkness into his marvelous light.”

68. Versöhnenden Leiden. Ed. note: Cf. §104n1 above.

69. See 2 Cor. 1:5; 4:10. Ed. note: Both passages have to do with sharing in Christ’s suffering unto death and thus in his life as a whole.

70. See his essay on the threefold office of Christ. Ed. note: Johann August Ernesti (1707–1781), De officio Christi triplici (1792), 371ff., quoted in KGA I/7.3, 415–29. Schäfer notes (KGA I/13.2, 151) that Julius August Ludwig Wegscheider (1771–1849), Institutiones theologia (1815; the 4th and 6th eds., 1824 and 1829, were both in Schleiermacher’s library), mentions various theologians for and against. In the 1829 edition, 429, Ernesti refers to Schleiermacher’s formulation in the first edition of CG1 1822 (KGA I/7.2, 97f.), which is repeated in the account just given.

§105. Third Doctrinal Proposition: Christ’s kingly office consists in the fact that everything that the community of the faithful requires for its well-being proceeds ever and always from him.

1. The more ambiguous the word “king” is—as is true today and was in the time of Christ as well—and the greater the distinction between the strict official usage and its polite, generous usage is, the less are we able to base our doctrinal presentation on the exegetical decision regarding the sense in which Christ was asked whether he was a king1 and whether he answered in the sense intended or in some other sense. Instead, we have to keep to the not yet faded memory of how the concept “king” stood, on the one hand, in contrast to that of the “tyrant,” whose sovereign rule was just as unlimited but not natural, and, on the other hand, in contrast to that of the “governing authority in a communal body”² whose possession of power was held only within certain boundaries, delegated by those who were themselves governed. In contrast to the practice of governing authorities, tyranny always included within itself the possibility, indeed presupposed that power,³ arbitrarily seized, would also be self-serving and could hold to purposes other than the free development and natural welfare of the governed.

The sovereign rule⁴ of Christ fully contrasts with both of these types, in that it everywhere corresponds to the animating principle if the animating power of this principle is neither externally hampered nor internally weakened. Thus, this sovereign rule is also self-evidently exercised in the interest of the governed, since it is comprised only of dominion over that feature within themselves the weakness of which human beings regret and on the basis that each person would give oneself over to that dominion only voluntarily. The kingly way in which Christ holds sway, however, has in common with the other two offices that its object cannot be an individual as such but is a communal body and includes individuals only insofar as they belong to this body. Accordingly, in voluntarily submitting to Christ’s dominion, individuals enter, at the same time, into a communal body to which they did not previously belong. As a result, in that we attribute a kingly dignity to Christ, we already distinctly declare ourselves against the twofold claim that Christ would not have had any organic community in mind, but this association of the faithful would have emerged or been formed later on instead, without his having ordained it. At the same time, however, no one enters into this communal body except in that one submits to Christ’s dominion; thus, it also follows that Christ himself inaugurates this reign, consequently Christ is the successor to no one in this kingly office.5

Christ himself, however, sets forth yet another contrast in that he designates his reign as not to be “of this world,”⁶ whereby he contrasts it in yet another way from those other two offices. This negation implies the following two things above all. First, it implies that his kingly might does not rule over and order the things of this world, whereupon all that could be the immediate domain within which his might would apply would be what is inside people—in each person, of oneself, and in people’s relation to one another. Second, it implies that in the exercise of his sovereignty he exercises no means other than what depends on the things of this world—that is, no coercion, which would require an excess of material forces, nor enticements or threats of any kind, which would also require such undergirding and would operate only on people’s sensate capacities, which capacities also belong to this world.

In no way, however, is it said thereby that Christ’s kingly might would have started only after he had risen from this earth or had perhaps moved beyond this life.⁷ Rather, as he himself says, it was not that he would become a king but that he was one. Thus, he has not only shown himself to be king during his life on earth, in that he issued laws to his communal body,⁸ sent out his servants for the purpose of broadening it, set forth rules for its administration and imparted instructions as to how the will of his command was to be carried out, but also his regal might is and remains everywhere the same, for all times. This is so, for those laws and instructions do not become obsolete but retain currency in undiminished force⁹ in Christ’s church. Moreover, when he refers his disciples to his spiritual presence for the future’s sake, there is no distinction of various times in this promise, for his original works were purely spiritual too. Furthermore, just as they were then mediated by his physical appearance, so too his spiritual presence is still mediated today through the written word and by the picture of his nature and work laid down within it. Even today, however, his governing influence is not, as it were, a merely mediated and derivative one on that account. As a result, we are able to say, with respect to what has been mentioned earlier, that just as his advocacy relates to our prayer in his name, so too does his government relate to any action we may undertake in his name. Indeed, in that he relates to the totality of the faithful, it is also obvious precisely how his dominion is also singular. That is, just as the divine nature10 in him is related to his human nature as animating power,¹¹ so too is being taken up into the community of his original life so related, in that no one else is in a position to share in this dominion.

Hence, just as Christ is a successor to no one in the communal body governed by him, but he is the sole founder of it, he too has no successor and no surrogate within that communal body. That is to say, just as he exercises his dominion by means of ordinances that originate in him,¹² and he himself has declared them to be sufficient,¹³ so it all comes down to their correct application. Moreover, this is the common calling of those who are governed by Christ, as such. Even if those governed by Christ were ever able to transfer this calling to some individual or to more than one, they still could not do this without giving up their own living relationship to Christ. So, such a person, thus chosen, would still be their surrogate and not Christ’s surrogate.¹⁴ In conclusion, then, among the faithful nowhere can there be any dominion but Christ’s alone.

2. What is difficult in relation to this aspect of Christ’s work chiefly consists in the need to define Christ’s kingly might correctly with respect to divine government in general, and one cannot overlook this difficulty once one considers this subject theoretically, even if one considers it only somewhat more exactly. Then there is also a need to define Christ’s kingly might correctly in relation to worldly government, and this difficulty directly arises as one treats the subject practically.

The customary division of Christ’s reign into the reign of might, the reign of grace, and the reign of glory¹⁵ contributes little to this subject. We must, first of all, dissolve this classification so that the last two categories are combined to point to the actual object of Christ’s kingly efficacious action, namely, the world as it has come to take part in redemption. In contrast, the reign of might is understood to point to the world in general, in and of itself. What very easily follows from claiming the latter reign is the overreaching opinion that Christ would have attained to a “reign of might,” as it were, before the reign of grace and in a way independent of it. Now, at the very least such a reign could not possibly belong to Christ’s redemptive activity. Moreover, if the apostles had been aware of such a reign of the Word,16 then, at the very least, this would be a knowing that could not belong to Christian piety, because it has no tie to redemption.

Suppose, however, that one believes it is necessary to exegete expressions that the apostles use for Christ,¹⁷ such as “the Word become flesh” and as “the God-man” and “Redeemer,” as well as those Christ used for himself,¹⁸ as if the entire government of the world would be attributed to him thereby. In that case, one would fall into contradiction not only with all those passages where he himself makes petitions to the Father and refers to something that the Father has reserved to himself but also with all those passages which announce the aim of establishing a direct relationship of petition and granting, respectively, between the faithful and the Father.

To be sure, in isolated cases even within the Evangelical church a mode of doctrine is to be found—indeed even a mode of worship held in common, in that all prayers there are indeed directed only to Christ—that leaves room only for a relationship of the faithful with Christ, excluding the Father altogether. However, with Scripture and also by far preponderantly with the church, we must declare these modes of doctrine and worship to be a dubious aberration. Yet, if this shoal is to be avoided, we can understand “the might of Christ” to be only that which begins with the reign of grace and which is essentially included within it. This might, moreover, is one exercised over the world only to the extent that the following two conditions are met. First, the faithful are indeed taken away from living in the midst of the world. Second, the community of the faithful, or the reign of Christ, can increase, in that the world, viewed in its contrast over against the church, decreases and its components are gradually changed into components of the church, with the result that human evil¹⁹ is overcome and the domain of redemption is extended.

Yet, even this process is an exercise of might by Christ over the world only from the reign of grace outward. That is, it occurs only by virtue of the efficacious action of Christ’s command to proclaim the gospel, an efficacious action constantly holding currency in the church. In contrast, which part of the world before another and which individual before another will be ready for the fruits produced through proclamation²⁰—all this belongs to the reign of might, which the Father has reserved to himself.21 Accordingly, what remains is always simply the powers²² of redemption implanted in the church, over which Christ governs. It would be a rather unfruitful distinction, moreover, and one not at all properly specified, if one wanted to term his reign a reign of grace to the extent that these powers proved to be effective purely internally, for the purpose of sanctification and edification, but to term it a reign of might to the extent that these powers are utilized for the purpose of overcoming the world, for these two functions are in no way to be divorced from each other.

The distinction between the reign of grace and the reign of glory, however, is customarily understood in such a way that the second reign follows the first once Christ’s subjects are put in full possession of all the benefits he has obtained for them and are no longer in touch with the world, a presupposition that will be more closely considered below.²³ At this juncture it is only to be noted with respect to Christ’s kingly dignity that if one strictly held to this presupposition, there could no longer be any activity in this reign other than that of presentation, wherewith exercise of any general governance would be reduced to a minimum. Accordingly, one can indeed regard this reign as a glory of Christ if he, with the totality of the faithful because it is consummated and self-contained, would also have nothing more to suffer in compassion, but precisely this state permits of being depicted as a reign least of all.

Hence, the only thing that remains as a true reign of Christ is the one reign of grace. This reign is then also the sole reign the consciousness of which is really present in our religious frames of mind and heart.²⁴ Moreover, a knowledge of the governing presence of this reign alone is required, because our effective faith has to be directed to it. We can make use of the other two members of the customary classification only in order to designate precisely what the compass of this reign is. In our calling it a “reign of might,” we express that not only does the broadening of Christ’s efficacious action over the human race know no bounds and that no people can permanently pursue an evasive action against it, but also that no stage of purity and perfection exists that does not belong within Christ’s reign. In contrast, in calling it a “reign of glory” we confess—naturally in connection with that supreme purity and perfection which is present to us only by approximation—an unlimited process of drawing more nearly toward absolute blessedness, which blessedness is to be found in connection with Christ alone.

Now, a concern exists as to the way Christ holds sway25 as king in distinction from civil government. In accordance with what has been presented up to now, it would appear that nothing would be easier than to make an exact conceptual distinction between the two. This could be the case for two reasons. On the one hand, civil government is indisputably both an institution that belongs to the general divine government of the world²⁶ and accordingly, an institution that is as such alien to the reign of Christ, as he himself has also said.²⁷ On the other hand, civil government is legal in nature and is generally to be found even where Christian piety does not exist. Consequently, as something stemming from the collective life of sinfulness and everywhere presupposing this life—namely, because in exercising sanction under its laws it counts on the power of sensory motives—as such it also cannot order even a scintilla of anything in Christ’s reign.

On these grounds, these two modes of government seem to be totally distinct from each other, to such an extent that within his reign Christ’s sole dominion remains unendangered if his own do not avail themselves of worldly things other than in accordance with the ordinances of worldly government and regard all that presents itself from this government as derivative of the divine government of the world.²⁸ Yet, it is historically very clear how much the matter changes once we picture to ourselves a worldly government of Christians over Christians. On the one hand, we can see that the church has endeavored to take possession of worldly government in the name of Christ. On the other hand, we can see that ruling bodies made up of Christians have ascribed to themselves the right to order affairs of the communal bodies of the faithful.

Now, so that we do not bring into this discussion anything that belongs to Christian ethics, from which the theological principles for church law29 must also flow, here we have only to raise the question of whether Christ’s reign would be altered in its compass by means of this newly introduced state of affairs. In this case, the following is, to be sure, correct: that Christ is to have total dominion over the communal body of the faithful; consequently, every member of that body should also prove oneself to be governed wholly by Christ and in every aspect of one’s life. Yet, this life also rests only on each individual’s internal interconnection of life with Christ, and there can be no substitute who would exercise Christ’s kingly office in Christ’s name. Thus, this fact simply means that no person, no matter whether one is a ruling authority or a subject, has to seek additionally in Christ’s instructions either the proper instructions for one’s mode of conduct in civil government, in that this mode of conduct indeed remains a technical matter,³⁰ or even one’s proper disposition in this regard. On the other hand, the following also remains true: that each member of the communal body of the faithful is able to exercise an influence on it only in the measure that one is an especially suitable organ of Christ’s kingly might,³¹ in that otherwise the sole dominion of Christ would be endangered, and only in the measure that this influence does not interconnect with any external calling.³² Rather, just as each person who was a slave when called is, on that account, not a slave in the communal body as well but is a person let free in the Lord, so too whoever was a master when called does not, on that account, become a master in the communal body but simply becomes a “slave of Christ,” like everyone else.³³ In consequence, the civil contrast between ruling authority and subject³⁴ is a matter of complete indifference within the communal body with respect to any varied relationship to Christ’s kingly might.

3. In this manner, we have separated Christ’s kingly might, on the one hand, from the might that the Father has reserved to himself, and we have placed it, on the other hand, outside all the means and occasions by which civil government holds sway. Moreover, the latter distinction is indisputably the way in which “the two swords” are to be kept apart, to use Luther’s term. Thus, we will be able to say of this aspect of Christ’s work, as of the two others, that he is the apex and end of all spiritual kingship, and this claim will hold true of this separation of powers as much as it does in and of itself. We have to compare his dominion, considered in and of itself, with every other might exercised strictly on the human spirit.35 Moreover, we must also by far subordinate to this relationship all relationships between master and student, model and imitator, lawgiver and adopter, viewing these relationships as standing at an incomparably lower level and laying claim only to particular aspects of that life of the human spirit.

The same thing is also the case with other founders of religion, who have neither similarly called forth a disposition in contrast with previous modes of conduct, to which they rather accommodated in manifold ways, nor called the entire human race to live under their dominion, as Christ did. Likewise, however, he is also the end of such a kingship, in that there is just as little likelihood of a reign similar to his that would be forthcoming after his own³⁶ as there is that a similar one exists alongside it or has ever existed. Yet, he is both apex and end only inasmuch as that separation persists, for it belongs to the purity of his spiritual might, thus also to its perfection, that in no way should sensory motives cooperate therein. This is why Christianity is neither a political religion nor a religious state nor a theocracy. The first two things consist of religious communities that are regarded to be institutions of a distinct civil union and that are based on the presupposition that religion would proceed from civil legislation or would be conducted as a subordinate stimulus that belongs to the same higher impulse that would initially have engendered the civil condition. On this view, the result would be that, for the sake of the civil union, those associated with it would also be bound to the religious community as well, and thus this community would be animated by the common spirit of the civil union and by love of the fatherland, which, according to the sense given them by Scripture, are motives of the flesh. In contrast, theocracies are religious communities that have as such brought the civil union under their control. Hence, in theocracies the drive to obtain civil honor works to attain something that stands out within the broadly religious³⁷ community, and in them the underlying presupposition is that the pious community or divine revelation on which this institutionally religious community rests could also have called forth the civil union, which is possible in this sense only in pious communities that are restricted to a certain nation. Christ, therefore, makes an end to both political religions and theocracies, this by the spiritual dominion of his God-consciousness. The more firmly established and extended his reign is, moreover, the more definitely are church and state sundered from each other. As a result, in the proper external separation of the two, which can indeed subsist in very different forms, harmony between the two will develop ever more completely.

Postscript to This First Division38

Only now that we have completed treatment of the entire doctrine of Christ is it possible to survey what sort of affinity it would have with two contrasting positions attributed to him, his humbling and his exaltation.³⁹ It was not possible to do this before, in that the two expressions, when taken as exactly as having a place in a system of doctrine requires, do not permit their being applied either to the circumstances of Christ’s person as such or to those of his work as such or to the relation of his work to his person.

Now, in the first place, the expression “humbling,” exactly taken, presupposes a higher being that existed beforehand, but what this was cannot be found out if we stick with the unity of Christ’s person. The reason is as follows. One might indeed term it an “exaltation” when Christ has become the firstfruit of resurrection and sits at the right hand of God, and in comparison with that status one can term his earthly condition a “lower” one; but since Christ’s person nevertheless began to exist only with his becoming a human being,⁴⁰ this lower condition cannot be referred to as a “humbling.”⁴¹ Thus, some proceed to divide Christ’s person, and in that one views the divine in him as a particular being that has come here from eternity, the descent of this being to earth appears to be a humbling. However, that which is the absolutely supreme and eternal being, consequently a being that is necessarily self-identical, cannot possibly permit of having any humbling ascribed to it. This point would also imply that, based on the same viewpoint, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit42 in the community of the faithful would also have to be all the more of a humbling, since the human nature that exists in us is not pure and sinless as it is in Christ’s person. Indeed, even the process of creation would have to be a humbling on account of the omnipresent being of God in all that is finite, since the claim is made, albeit to the contrary, that glorification⁴³ of God is the purpose of creation.

Suppose, however, that we consent to using the expression “humbling” instead of referring to the more precise condition of “lowliness,”⁴⁴ but still stick with the unity of Christ’s person. Then in this way too the contrast involved proves to be a sheer illusion, or, at the very least, to be merely a pretense for others but not a truth for Christ himself. That is to say, how can that person, who spoke of his relationship to God the Father in such a way⁴⁵ that even his sitting at the Father’s right hand could not be regarded as an exaltation, have been conscious of a lowliness of his condition? Suppose that one further considers the customary notion of the “two natures” and a reciprocal communication between attributes of the two natures.⁴⁶ Then one can relate Christ’s humbling not to the unification of the two natures, for that unification would indeed remain even if Christ’s human nature were elevated to the right hand of God, but only to the divine nature—either insofar as it would refrain from using its attributes or insofar as it would have to assume the human attributes along with its own.

Now, with the second option the relationship remains unchanged in any case. This is so, for since the gap between God and every finite being is infinite, this gap would also not change whether one imagined humanity in its present state or in its advanced development. However, the first option—that of the divine nature’s restraint in using its own attributes—has only slightly more in its favor. This is so, for if—as fits together with this same account—exceptions to the use of his divine attributes would have occurred even in the status of lowliness by virtue of Christ’s free will,47 then his renunciation would also have had to be voluntary. Moreover, we would still also have to assert precisely this, irrespective of the divine exceptions, since no coercion can be imposed on Christ’s divine nature. As a result, a being coerced to make use of those divine exceptions contrary to free will would instead have been a lowering to a more humble state. Yet, we also cannot at all imagine a more nearly complete use of those divine attributes in the elevated state either. This is so, for if all the attributes of Christ’s divine nature would have to be uninterruptedly active in his human nature, then all the activities of his human nature would have to be uninterruptedly stilled. This, in turn, would unexceptionably mean that his human nature would be absorbed by his divine nature as far as its own activities are concerned. Moreover, all that would remain would be his passive side, which would be totally against the original presupposition regarding human nature.

Yet, how is an uninterrupted use of the divine attributes to be imaginable if we are nonetheless to think of Christ as advocating for us with the Father and interceding for us on account of our sin, thus are also to think of him as a compassionate participant in the struggles of the church militant?⁴⁸ So, here too only more or less of Christ’s use of the divine attributes would remain, which cannot justify use of expressions such as these. Given this situation, moreover, it can also scarcely be said that this contrast can be referred even to Christ’s functions. This is the case, for even if one would want to say that Christ’s kingly function would be by far the highest of the three, the prophetic and high-priestly functions would still accompany this one but not be contrasted with it, as if they were lowly. Indeed, even the way in which Christ exercised his prophetic activity does not indicate a lowly position.

If, given the complete untenability of this formula, we may then inquire as to what its origin was, we find that it is based solely on one passage of Scripture.⁴⁹ The ascetic⁵⁰ character of this passage and, considered in its entire context, its rhetorical character as well do not give evidence of an aim that the expressions presented there were to be exactly fixed in a didactic manner.51 It would also follow from this passage that Christ’s exaltation would be a definite award given him by God simply for his being humbled but without any direct connection either with his distinctive dignity or with the consummation⁵² of his work. Yet, the way in which Paul here depicts Christ as prototype⁵³ comports very well with the sense that Christ has proceeded in his life as well as in his death only from the semblance of being humbled. On this basis, then, this formula can with every right be reasonably set aside in the process of handing down doctrine and consigned to history for custodial care.

1. John 18:33; Matt. 27:11.

2. Obrigkeit im Gemeinwesen. Ed. note: E.g., magistrates or officials in a society. Here the term for “power” is Macht (might). In subsequent sections, where the “church” is the explicit object, “communal body” regularly translates Gemeine, which can more specifically refer to congregations.

3. Gewalt. Ed. note: Literally, “holding sway.” Cf. use of the same distinctions between kinds of power and control in §§144–47, on power of the keys and prayer in Jesus’ name. In ecclesiology the more direct counterpart to the present proposition lies in those four propositions.

4. Herrschaft. Ed. note: This is the same term as that used just above for “possession of power.” Customarily, however, it refers to Christ’s “lordship” or “dominion,” the latter of which is ordinarily used in this translation, though occasionally “sovereignty” seems more appropriate in context. In any case, Schleiermacher holds of all three offices that the “dignity” to be accorded them is unprecedented and unparalleled.

5. Ed. note: Here as a few times elsewhere, “office” translates Würde (“dignity” or “office”)—that is, an Amt (“office”) to which a certain dignity or special honor is attached.

6. Ed. note: John 18:36.

7. Ed. note: Here in the first edition Peiter (97f.) refers to Bretschneider’s book on concepts in the Protestant confessions (1805), 363.

8. Matt. 10:5–14; 18:15–20; and 28:19–20. Ed. note: Sermons on (1) Matt. 10:11–13, Aug. 12, 1821, SW II.10 (1856), 222–37; (2) Matt. 18:16–20, Exaudi, June 3, 1810, SW II.7 (1836), 411–18; and (3) Sermon outline on Matt. 18:18–20, Ascension, May 5, 1796, in Bauer (1909), 32–33.

9. Ungeschwächter Kraft.

10. Natur. Ed. note: Cf. critical treatment of the classical “two natures” doctrine in §96.

11. Als beseelend. Ed. note: Also translated elsewhere here as “ensouling.”

12. Eph. 4:11–16. Ed. note: Sermon on Eph. 4:11–12, Aug. 29, 1830 (re: Augsburg), SW II.2 (1834), 692–709. ET Nicol (1997), 107–25.

13. Matt. 28:20–22; John 15:9–10 and 17:4. Ed. note: Sermons only on (1) John 15:8–17, July 16, 1826, SW II.9 (1847), 484–94; and (2) John 15:9, 14–15, Aug. 17, 1806, SW II.1 (1834), 208–22.

14. Second Helvetic Confession (1566) 17: “Therefore, the church cannot have any other head besides Christ, for as the church is a spiritual body, so it must also have a spiritual head in harmony with itself.” Ed. note: ET Cochrane (1972), 263; Latin only: Creeds, vol. 3 (1919), 273. Cf. §37n.

15. Macht, … Gnade, … Herrlichkeit.

16. John 1:2–3. Ed. note: Sermon on John 1:1–5, April 13, 1823, SW II.8 (1837), 3–14. The assumption regarding such a Word preexisting Jesus would be that it is to be identified with Christ in a “logos Christology.”

17. Heb. 1:2–3.

18. Matt. 11:27; 28:18; cf. John 17:5, 22, 24.

19. Böse.

20. Fruchtbarkeit. Ed. note: As always here, these fruits of proclamation are produced by word and deed, not by preaching alone, and they are likewise deemed to be “fruits of the Spirit.” Thus, this passage is a marked foretaste of the doctrines of election, of the Holy Spirit, and of the triune God.

21. Acts 1:7 and John 6:44. Ed. note: Sermons on (1) Acts 1:6–11, May 7, 1812, Festpredigten (1833), SW II.2 (1834), 518–30, and (2) John 6:36–44, Nov. 14, 1824, SW II.8 (1837), 430–42.

22. Kräfte.

23. Ed. note: See §§157–63, on “the consummation of the church.”

24. Gemütszuständen.

25. Gewalt.

26. Rom. 13:1–2. Ed. note: Sermon on Rom. 13:1–5, Jan. 5, 1809, SW II.4 (1835), 1–13. On the general government of the world, see esp. §§168–69.

27. Ed. note: John 18:36 RSV: “My kingship is not of this world.” Schleiermacher’s diary indicates that he preached on this verse in his series on John in 1826. However, the last sermon from the series published in the nineteenth century is from Sept. 24 of that year, on John 16:23–33. KGA III/9 might contain additional sermon transcripts found in the late twentieth century.

28. Augsburg Confession (1530) 16: “Because the gospel transmits an eternal righteousness of the heart, … in the meantime the gospel does not overthrow secular government, public order, and marriage [German: stosset nicht weltlich Regimen, Polizie, und Ehestand; Latin: non dissipat politiam aut oeconomiam] but instead intends that a person keep all this as a true order of God and demonstrate Christian love in these walks of life.” Ed. note: ET Book of Concord (2000), 49f.; Latin and German: Bek. Luth. (1963), 71.

29. Kirchenrechtes.

30. Sache der Kunst. Ed. note: That is, a “matter of art,” of how an action is done rather than of the reality, the what, involved.

31. This condition also underlies the rule [for replacement of Judas] set forth by Peter (Acts 1:21) and the communal policy declared in Gal. 2:7–9. Ed. note: Sermon only on Acts 1:21–22, June 3, 1832, SW II.3 (1835), 276–88.

32. Second Helvetic Confession (1566) 30: “If he (the magistrate) is a friend and even a member of the church, he is a most useful and excellent member of it, who is able to benefit it greatly and to assist it best of all.” Ed. note: ET Cochrane (1972), 299; Latin only: Creeds, vol. 3 (1919), 305. Cf. note at §37n3.

33. As in 1 Cor. 7:22. Ed. note: Sermon on 1 Cor. 7:20–23, Aug. 9, 1818, first published in The Christian Household (1820), then in SW II.1 (1834), 640–51, followed by a second sermon on servants, 652–65. ET Seidel and Tice (1991), 91–105 and 106–22. Cf. a sermon on self-induced servitude (re: Augsburg) on 1 Cor. 1:23, June 20, 1830, SW II.2 (1834), 613–25. ET Nicol (1997), 21–33.

34. Obrigkeit und Untertan. Ed. note: That is, literally, those who are positioned “over” vs. “under.”

35. Rein geistigen Macht.

36. Heb. 12:27f.; even 1 Cor. 15:28 does not speak contrary to this point.

37. Ed. note: At this point the term for “broadly religious” is religiösen. Elsewhere in this context frommen is the adjective modifying “community,” an adjective usually translated “religious,” but it is distinguished by being translated “pious” later in this sentence.

38. Ed. note: The present postscript is to §§92–105 as a whole. Part Two (§§62–169) of Christian Faith examines two aspects of Christian consciousness: the First Aspect is consciousness of sin (§§65–85), and the Second Aspect is consciousness of grace (§§86–169). The first section of the Second Aspect (§§91–112) attends to the Christian’s consciousness of grace (in contrast to the second section on the ordering of the world and the third section on divine attributes) and begins with this first division (§§92–105) regarding Christ’s person and work. Careful reading of the table of contents will clarify the shape of the presentation.

39. Erniedrigung und Erhöhung. Ed. note: The first condition is sometimes, rather misleadingly, called his “humiliation” and the second condition his “being lifted up.”

40. Menschwerdung. Ed. note: This is also the only word available in German for “incarnation,” which itself already normally presupposes the higher status of being just rejected. This is why Schleiermacher rarely uses it for dogmatic purposes.

41. Ed. note: Literally, “a being reduced to a lower status,” just as “elevated” means “a being raised to a higher status.”

42. Ed. note: Cf. §116n1.

43. Verherrlichung. Ed. note: To “glorify” is to acknowledge, honor, and celebrate God’s having “dominion [Herrlichkeit, Herrschaft] over all things,” or God’s truly being “the Lord” (Herr).

44. Niedrigkeit.

45. John 1:51; 4:34; 5:17, 20f.; 6:57; 8:29; 10:30, 36; and so on. Ed. note: This theme is well represented in sermons already cited.

46. Ed. note: See §96 and index.

47. Solid Declaration (1577) 8: “He revealed his divine nature as he pleased, when and how he wanted to, and not only after his resurrection and ascension but [also] in the state of his humiliation.” Ed. note: ET Book of Concord (2000), 630; Latin and German: Bek. Luth. (1963), 1029.

48. Ed. note: Cf. §§157.1 and 159.1. This notion implies that until the church reaches the projected state of being “the church consummate” (vollendete), it will always be struggling, striving, in conflict, or embattled to some extent, hence “the church militant” (streitend).

49. Phil. 2:6–9. No other passage that is adduced to this subject contributes anything to it. Ed. note: Sermons on Phil. 2:5–11, May 27 and June 9, 1822, SW II.10 (1856), 492–526, from an early morning series on Philippians.

50. Ed. note: On “ascetic” practice, see §87.2. There Schleiermacher regards individual ascetic practice under the broader umbrella of “devotional” (andächtig) practice. Those practices that are entirely divorced from the collective life of grace shared with Christ are deemed to be delusive. In the context of Philippians, “entirely” would likely be too strong a claim for him, but he seems not to be thinking of the passage as presenting a wholly suitable devotion either. The passage Phil. 2:5–11 (RSV) reads: “Have this mind among yourselves, which you have in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

51. Ed. note: Cf. §16.

52. Vollendung. Ed. note: Use of this term also directly alludes to the theme “consummation of the church,” treated in §§157–63, to which one can refer only in an imagined, “prophetic” manner.

53. Vorbild. Ed. note: Or model for devout followers.