Brief theological considerations

This article was originally written and published in German as “Christ und Wirtschaft,” Der Mennonit. Internationales mennonitisches Gemeindeblatt 26/11 (November 1973): 161-162. John Howard Yoder was invited by the “Union of German Mennonite Congregations” in June 1973 to stimulate reflection and discussion on the topic “The Christian and Economics.” The editor of Der Mennonit asked Yoder to write a brief article on the basis of his lecture notes. Almost 36 years later, this first English translation offers some helpful theological categories and economic options for missional churches seeking to be “salt and light” in a post-Christendom context.—Arnold Neufeldt-Fast, translator.

The biblical sources
1. The Bible understands humans as economic beings. According to the Creation account, responsibility for tending the “garden” and administering the animal world belong to the essence of humanity. Fall occurs in the form of a misuse of the organic world that is entrusted to humanity. The punishment is portrayed as a transformation of the conditions of human work. Christians have not always taught in this manner. Later, the essence of humanity was seen as a soul or spirit trapped in and separable from bodily reality. In contrast, 19th-century Marxism connected itself to biblical thought by emphasizing that humans are fundamentally economic beings.

2. God’s will for human beings includes an ordered, fruitful relationship with the world of things. The prophetic view of salvation promises production of land and habitation. When injustice is condemned, it occurs in the form of a demand for the rights of widows and the poor. The Mosaic Law provides for a regular and repeating “Jubilee Year” that makes a new economic beginning possible.

3. Salvation as proclaimed by Jesus includes a new economic order. Already John the Baptist described the “fruit of repentance” as a distribution of goods and the cessation of extortion. In his sermons Jesus proclaimed the advent of the Year of Jubilee (Luke 4). Even the beatitudes and woes (Luke 6) declare the message of the kingdom in an economic form.

Models from the history of Christianity
These theses based upon the biblical sources make the problem obvious: The economic order belongs to the realm of Christian responsibility. But how? We can no longer afford to spiritualize and downplay these features of the biblical message. But how should we take them seriously—in light of the technological revolution and in light of newer theoretical questions?
My contribution to this question, which must remain brief, can be presented best by describing various positions on this issue from the Reformation era. I will present various solutions, and it will become clear that these continue to be instructive even today.

1. The continuous-theocratic model is found in Catholicism. The whole of society is viewed as baptized under the term “Christendom.” Economic relationships are understood as divinely established. On the edges of this system there are also criticisms, visible especially in the symbolic poverty of monks and in the prohibition of usury (charging interest on borrowed money). The church itself emerges as an economic power that is associated with the state.

2. The theocratic-Reformation model is found in Zwingli and later in Anglo-Saxon Puritanism. As with the first model, the whole of society is viewed as Christian and administered by Christian princes and Christian states. Existing forms, however, are not simply accepted but transformed. The force of the prophetic Word and the force of the police are united in the service of better justice (the prohibition of usury and luxury, the care for the poor, fostering education, industriousness). Soon the strength of faith becomes the power of a superior culture (colonialism, capitalism, democracy), which can be read as a proof of divine guidance.

3. The theocratic-revolutionary model is found not in one singular form but in many forms that differ from case to case. This concept takes on life where people are dissatisfied with the likely limits of what can be attained. In many respects, however, there is overlap with the second model: Both models render homage to those who use force, seek to destroy the enemies of God, identify the affairs of God with human programs and seek better justice on a path that goes through the state.

4. The dualistic model of Martin Luther is directed against this identification of divine and human affairs. In this model, the economic structures are affirmed in their autonomy. This averts the risk that the gospel will be altered through any linkage to political goals. Pietism accepts Luther’s model but functions more critically and, in this case, more imaginatively (e.g., care for the poor, children’s homes). But access to the economic realm occurs only through the heart of the prosperous individual. The economic structures as such are not challenged.

5. In a different manner than Luther, Anabaptism rejects the violent self-justification of reformed and revolutionary theocracies. In a different manner than Zwingli, it rejects the conservatism of the Lutheran and Catholic models that bless what is. The Anabaptists leveraged their critique at the point where none of the other movements had been critical.

Above all they did not assume that the same doctrine of right action must obtain for all, for believers and unbelievers. Neither did they suppose that those who govern were as a whole Christian. In other words, the lifestyle of a confessional community does not need to be developed into an ethic for all. Moreover, the community of faith does not necessarily need to be in the position to rule the world with its ethics.

In this way the Anabaptists reopened the path for a fundamental critique of the system from the gospel. The bearer of this critique was the congregation as an alternative order: At least in part it already lives in a reality it cannot force upon the world. This becomes visible in the renunciation of usury (charging interest), in the community of goods (as among the Moravian Hutterite Brethren) or in the charge of deacons to care for the poor of the congregation, and in the distinction between vocations that are useful and those that are not.

The contemporary situation
Today a similar range of possible strategies are available to us:
• a fundamental affirmation of the existing order with critique only within the system;
• a critique via individuals who have become insightful;
• a critique along the path of radical alteration of the system;
• a critique via the voluntary otherness of the servant people of God, who—despite their rejection of violence—never identify themselves with what is. The notion of a voluntary congregation bridges the tension between the individual and the system.

But these intellectually distinguishable possibilities are no longer identical with current theological and ecclesiastical options. Talk of revolution is heard today, especially in the Third World, because it has become obvious that the reforms of the prosperous—who mean well—are not sufficient. Only rarely is the Anabaptist idea of a non-violent alternative community adopted, usually by groups who cannot compete with the great powers of the industrial world.

Trust in a gradual improvement of the situation implemented through official channels (i.e., the puritan model) is also rare today, though it was evident among some Christians who lived in the socialist world. Most of us, including Mennonites, end up in the “catholic” or “pietist” models, which leave the system as it is untouched. Yet as individuals we hope that each in his or her little corner can improve something. But can we really presume thereby to have met the challenges and the offer of the gospel?

John Howard Yoder, a Mennonite theologian who died in 1997. Arnold Neufeldt-Fast, associate academic dean at Tyndale Seminary in Toronto, translated it and sent it to us.