COVID-19 as the End of the Modern World? Part Three: Reconsidering Anthropology
By Clement Yung Wen
In parts one and two of the current series, I briefly suggested that the onset of COVID-19 is probably going to demarcate a transition from the “modern world” to something truly “post-modern” (as opposed to “postmodern” without the hyphen, which many still see as being “late modern” rather than as truly being “post” or “after” modern). Amidst the current social, economic, institutional, political, and cultural changes that our world is experiencing, I also suggested that the event of COVID-19 may provide a good impetus for a reconsideration of certain aspects of our typical evangelical theological constructions, which perhaps had been overly accommodated to the situation of the “modern world.” In this regard, I particularly sought to highlight a more relationally-oriented understanding of salvation to counteract our forensically-oriented penchant to overemphasize “justification by faith,” as well as a more personally-attuned, un-anonymous, pastoral, and “un-busy” understanding of the church and what it means for us to be members of it, especially by way of baptism and the Lord’s Supper—this, in contradistinction to the modern evangelical ecclesiological tendency towards program-oriented management unto the goal of “megachurch,” within which the significance of local church membership has never really been well-defined. In this third installment, I now turn my attention to the area of theological anthropology, which is naturally connected to both soteriology (doctrine of salvation) and ecclesiology (doctrine of the Church).
After all, not only is a large part of what it means to be “saved” a restoration of the fullness of our humanity (which was marred by sin so as to distort our relationship with God, our relationship with others, our relationship with ourselves, and our relationship with all of the world and even all of creation), but it seems to me that ecclesiology needs to be seen through the same lens—for, if in fact the church is meant to be a “sign” and “foretaste” of the coming eschatological kingdom of God in the here and now, and such a “sign” includes the restoration of our humanity via participation in the humanity of Christ (who alone is the “True Human”), then anthropology in many ways is a lynchpin within theology (a lynchpin that of course needs to remain subservient to the main subject of “theology” [which is Theos, Greek for “God”], but a lynchpin nonetheless).
Evangelism & Being Human
I imagine this to be the very reason for why John Calvin opened his Institutes of the Christian Religion (1559) with the injunction that “Nearly all the wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves” (I.1.1).1 Indeed, there is something about true “knowledge of God” that brings about true “knowledge of ourselves” and vice versa. Sadly, within our modern evangelical churches, particularly due to a reductionist (simplistic, often overly simplistic) understanding of the church’s raison d'être as primarily or even solely revolving around the evangelistic task of “making disciples who make disciples,” a full-orbed understanding of “What does it mean to be a human being?” has also, in many ways, become theologically truncated. My saying this is not meant to diminish the importance of the evangelistic task (especially as the Apostle Paul did call Timothy to faithfully “do the work of an evangelist,” cf. 2 Tim. 4:5). Rather, I simply want to point out the way in which the definition of “what it means to be human” can easily become curtailed in a particularly specific task-based way when evangelism inadvertently, in terms of importance, becomes framed as supplanting all other human tasks, values, callings, meanings, and priorities in life. Ironically, what perhaps is the most compelling form of evangelism, which also organically opens doors for explicit evangelistic conversation, isn’t about “doing” something so much as it is about “being” fully human in Christ in a way that responsibly and lovingly captivates those in our midst to become curious and to therefore desire the same type of fullness for themselves. In this regard, instead of subsuming “being human” under the auspices of the evangelistic task in a way that such “being” subserviently and utilitarianly becomes merely an exercise of “pre-evangelism,” what’s needed is a fundamental recovery of “human being” (i.e., “being human”) as inherently bearing meaning and significance on its own.
Calling & Vocation
Christian theologians often distinguish between several different scriptural aspects of human calling or “vocation”—an English term which comes from the Latin word vocare or vocatio. Along such lines, it is not uncommon to hear that for us as human beings to have a “calling,” there must be a “Caller” (a crucial point that has been forgotten by the secularization of the term “vocation”). What is helpful about the theological distinctions I’m about to share, then, is that such common distinctions help us place the evangelistic task of “making disciples who make disciples” (i.e., the “Great Commission”) within a broader vocational framework that is more anthropologically holistic. In observing, for example, that all human beings (not just Christians) have been created “in the image and likeness of God,” and that, as such, all human beings (including Christians) have been called to both care for and cultivate the created world around us in a way that culturally develops it (cf. Gen. 1:26-27, typically referred to as the “Great Creation/Cultural Mandate”), what happens is that every aspect of our lives within the created world—and not just those aspects that seemingly have “churchly” or “evangelistic” value—becomes ensconced and enfolded within our Christian faith as we carry out the whole of our humanly lived lives in Christ, by the Spirit. It is this broader human vocation that led the Christian East to representatively define humans as the “priests of creation” (thus, very aptly helping to explain why all of creation fell with Adam when he sinned, as well as why Christ, in His humanity, can represent the renewal of all creation in His person through His obedience to God unto death and, importantly, resurrection). It is also within this broader vocational framework that the Apostle Paul could “Spiritualize” all of life in a doxological manner through his instruction that “whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (Col. 3:17).
Permanent vs. Temporary Calling
What’s most important to keep in mind about the Great Creation/Cultural Mandate, however, is that—along with the “Great Commandment” of loving God and neighbor (cf. Matt. 22:36-40; Deut. 6:5; Lev. 19:18; see also 1 Cor. 13:13)—it is a permanent calling that will continue on in the eschaton (the end of the world/the age to come), whereas the Great Commission is only temporary (lasting only until Jesus returns).2 While such a point may suggest to some that the Great Commission is therefore of greater urgency and is thus of greater importance in the present than the other aforementioned aspects of our vocation, I think that as Christians, we do ourselves a great disservice when we place these vocational categories into competitive relationship with each other. (As a side note: such “competitive thinking” is an intellectual habit that is unfortunately characteristic of Western Christian thought—the “God’s sovereignty” vs. “human free will” debate historically being the saddest case in point.) What we need, instead, is to take up the Great temporary Commission without, in a sense, ceasing to “be human” in its more original and permanent sense. At the same time, because, within our tradition, we have overstressed the evangelistic task in a way that we’ve in some cases inflicted ourselves with a certain type of burden and anxiety that only God Himself can bear (namely, the burden of saving the world), what needs now to be stressed is not only the truth that “only God can save the world,” but also the fact that He oftentimes chooses to do this through us as we faithfully, without overbearing anxiety, carry out our part of the broader human vocation by way of our specific individual vocations in the contexts of our particular times and places—this, in a natural and restful manner that, often without conscious striving, actually has the effect of creating opportunities for both the Great Commandment and the Great Commission to naturally and organically take place as God bears witness to Himself through us. Alas, this is one of the reasons why I believe Jesus told us that we will find rest for our souls in Him, because His yoke is easy and His burden light (cf. Matt. 11:28-30). It is as we are faithful to His calling, however big or small, however wide or deep, that He redemptively shows up and not only saves the world, but also, through us, continues in His work of creating and sustaining it.
Unchanging God in a Changing World
If this is how God works in “normal” times, the emergency situation of the COVID event and the “new normal” which it is seemingly bringing about has not changed God’s standard pattern of operations in and through us. The Great Commission, though maybe more salient in times of crisis like the one we’re currently in, is in fact not any more or less urgent than before (it has always been urgent!). Neither are the Great Creation/Cultural Mandate or the Great Commandment of greater or lesser meaning and significance than they were before COVID (they have always been of greatest meaning and significance!). In these trying and challenging times, as Christians, we need therefore to continue to be faithful in all three of these vocational facets with trust that God will work through us as we “work” in and through Him.
Human “Beings” or Human “Doings”?
And yet, perhaps the problem with the entire anthropological discussion as I’ve framed it so far is that through a functional defining of “humanness” via the lens of “task,” “calling,” “vocation,” and “work,” I’ve led us into the all-too-common trap of seeing ourselves more as “human doings” than “human beings.” Yet, the COVID-inspired reconsideration of theological anthropology that I’m ultimately seeking prioritizes “being” over “doing” (since “doing” should naturally flow from “being” rather than the other way around). Somewhat related to this, the typical “modern” evangelical handling of scripture has been to look for ways in which we might be able to “apply” scriptural truth (a move that places emphasis upon “doing”) while I think the more correct approach, as helpfully reappropriated by Darrell Johnson, is to recognize the “implications” of scripture upon our lives (which, different than our aforementioned tendency towards “application,” rightly emphasizes the way in which “doing” flows forth from “being”—or in grammatical terms, the way in which the “imperative” flows forth from the “indicative” as an inherent “implication” of it).3
That said, in terms of the anthropological focus upon “being,” historically speaking, most traditional systematic theologians have sought to define “humanness” by attempting to pinpoint what, exactly, the “image of God” is in terms of its essence or substance—and yet, it seems that the proposed answers have all been problematic. After all, is “God’s image” in us correlated with our physical bodies—thus indicating (with the Mormons) that God Himself has a physical body that we have been created in the image of? Or is “His image” to be correlated with our ability to reason—which, historically, has been the most popular answer but which has also implicitly raised questions about the definitional status of infants and younger children whose ability to reason has yet to develop as well as about those whose ability to reason has either always been or has somehow become impaired through disability or illness, etc.? Put another way, are such people “less human” than someone like myself, whose ability to reason has in recent years been institutionally “verified” by the granting of a doctorate (if I may so facetiously speak)? Ultimately, the substantive approach to defining humanity as being in God’s image falls short because, at least to date, all our attempts to identify exactly what this image essentially consists of have been riddled by situational contingencies.
How We Bear the Image of God
Even so, while the necessary contribution of this substantive approach to explaining the content of the image of God has been in its recognition of every individual human being’s inherent value and worth (a recognition that we particularly need to hang onto in a time like this, especially, for example, in the face of questions surrounding distributive justice regarding things like hospital beds and vaccines, etc.), I think what the COVID event can maybe help us realize is that the so-called relational approach to understanding how human persons are and continue to be in the “image of God” is most fruitful when compared to the other alternatives. What I’m speaking of now is an approach to the question of “God’s image” that differs from both the substantive and functional approaches while enveloping both. In acknowledging that there is something truly substantive about “God’s image” (even if we lack the linguistic and ideational capacity to thoroughly define it) while also acknowledging that there are certain functions that we’ve been called to within the world of creation by virtue of our being created for the express purpose of bearing “God’s image,” what the relational approach contributes to this anthropological matrix is an answer to the question of how we bear the “image of God”—and that is, by way of participation in God (one that is not pantheistic, for “participation,” as Christians define it, has always been careful to maintain the Creator-creature distinction).
This participation that I speak of is a dynamic relational reality (i.e., not a “substantively static” possession) which Adam’s fall via his sinful disobedience had distorted, but that Christ, by way of His human obedience to God, has redeemed. Hence, while all who continue to be “in Adam” (i.e., non-Christians, including those who are hostile to God or hostile even to the idea of God, for example, atheists) continue to participate in God (and, hence, in “His image”) in a dynamically broken way (“dynamic” here in the sense that their maintaining of “God’s image” is inversely proportional to the extent to which their relationship with God is distorted—and this distortion is metaphorically capable of both “increase” and “decrease” as God’s image is refracted through the quality of one’s relationship with Him), those who now participate “in Christ” (and, particularly, in His humanity) not only borrow Christ’s human righteousness in a way that, in God’s eyes, Christ’s righteousness has objectively actually become their own (i.e., “justification”), but as we await future “glorification” (when Christ comes again), there is also a subjective dynamic at play in the present by which there is actual movement towards (and, perhaps, at times, also away from) “God’s image”—a movement which also hinges upon the movable extent to which we are (with fits and starts) progressively growing and maturing, in Christ, by the Spirit, to become more and more like Him (i.e., “sanctification”). In other words, to grow in “sanctification” is to become more fully “human.”
What It Means to Be Human
What thus characterizes what it means to be “human,” then, is the extent to which one’s relationship with God is “right.” And yet, importantly, this participatory relationship with God unto “divine imaging” naturally carries a reciprocity with the way in which we relate to ourselves, the way in which we relate to others, and the way in which we relate to the created world around us (bringing to mind again the four-fold relational understanding of salvation that we’ve been speaking of since part one of this series). Holistically speaking, then, being “fully human” (in the “fully” theological sense that I’m trying to put forward here) means that all four of these relationships are “right,” with the latter three stemming from the first. In this regard, to be in “God’s image,” whether such “being” is “in Adam” or “in Christ,” is a dynamic reality that is contingent upon the extent to which “God’s image” is refracted in us by way of the “rightness” of our relationship to Him. Whereas those who are “in Adam” participate directly in “God’s image” in a necessarily broken way due to the fall, it is important to mention here that the NT writers (particularly Paul) speak of believers’ imaging Christ rather than simply imaging God (cf. Rom. 8:29; 1 Cor. 15:49; 2 Cor. 3:18; etc.). A certain transposition has taken place here. Because Christ is the “Second Adam” who in His humanity, unlike Adam, bore the divine image in a way that wasn’t broken, those who are “in Christ” participate in Christ’s participation in God. Put somewhat differently, those who believe in Christ as Lord and Savior are participating in the one and only “True Human” and in His bearing of God’s image.
Final Thoughts
The current era of COVID-19 has been marked by many things. Not only sickness and death, but also the need for masks and social distancing remind us that things are not as they should be. (If I had more space, I would comment a bit more here on how the very real need for social distancing represents one of the greatest evils of COVID—for being “fully human” is also marked by physical presence amidst others especially around food and drink, and COVID has, in many cases, made such presence hazardous if not deathly dangerous.) Nevertheless, to the extent that we’re realistically able within the very real confines of concerns regarding health and safety, how might we be able to be as “fully human” as possible in these challenging times? How might we “be” in as right relationship with God, with ourselves, with others, and with this created world as possible? In what ways are we particularly called to “be” fully human in a participatory way as divine image-bearers in our “post-modern” COVID world? And what implications do such anthropological thoughts also have for our practice of church and our living out of salvation? May the theological reconsiderations humbly offered in these past three parts spur us on to further “being” (and its implications for “doing”), for the sake of loving God and loving our neighbor (as ourselves) in our “post-modern” COVID world. Soli Deo gloria.
References
1 Cf. John Calvin, Institutes are from Institutes of the Christian Religion, 1559, trans. Ford Lewis Battles, ed. John T. McNeill, 2 vols., The Library of Christian Classics, vols. 20-21 (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960).
2 I’m thankful to John G. Stackhouse, Jr. for the language of “permanent” and “temporary”; see his book Need to Know: Vocation as the Heart of Christian Epistemology (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014), pp. 68-80. For more on the common vocational distinctions I’ve offered here, see Ross Hastings, Missional God, Missional Church: Re-Evangelizing the West (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2012), pp. 147-89.
3 For more on this, see Darrell W. Johnson, The Glory of Preaching: Participating in God’s Transformation of the World (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009), pp. 158-71.
Rev. Dr. Clement Wen currently serves as Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology at China Evangelical Seminary in Taiwan. Prior to earning his PhD at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland (2015-2019), he was Youth Pastor at the Chinese Bible Church of Maryland in the USA from 2010-2015. He is the son of the late Dr. Yinkann Wen, former president of the KRC board of directors. Clement and his wife, Tracy, have two boys, Ethan and Micah.