Angels in the Gloom

Anne Perry's book, bearing this title, is the third in her series following the Reavley family during the First World War. The main character is Captain Joseph Reavley, a chaplain who has received the Military Cross for bravery in rescuing the wounded at Ypres. He is sent home to recouperate, following an injury, and there becomes embroiled in scullduggery concerning a secret naval weapon that could turn the tide of war. Perry's presentation of the characters is largely sympathetic. It makes a pleasant change to come across a representation of a 'man of the cloth' which is not horribly caricatured. Unfortunately, she reverts to type in her description of Kerr, the village vicar, who is a sorry excuse for a clergyman - weak, bumbling, and totally ineffectual. It's easy to see, also, that Perry has a horror of warfare. She does not glorify bloodshed, as do so many others. Neither does she minimise the courage of the common soldier.

What suprises me about the story is the theological hinge concerning the existence of God. Kerr, who has never been anywhere near the Front, cracks under the strain of comforting those who have lost loved ones. He finds himself with nothing to say, beyond inappropriate platitudes about King, Country, and Glory. Reavely, on the other hand, goes as far to accept, on at least two occasions, that he is not sure about the existence of God. But then he goes on to state his rationale: It is not about us. When we bring comfort to the bereaved we are not to think about our doubts, but their needs.

In the end, though he may entertain reservations about whether or not God is there, or interested in the affairs of men, Reavley contends that he is absolutely sure of this: that the things for which Christ stood, like honor and truth and love, are true for all times.

I've never actually heard anyone expound this doctrine; perhaps it was more prevalent in an age which actually knew what Christ stood for. It sounds a little like the religionless Christianity that gained some adherents in the 1960's when, building on the works of Friedrich Neitzsche, Thomas Altizer and others wrote about "Christian Atheism." Altizer taught that it is no longer possible to believe in a transcendent god, but that the spirit of Christ is immanent wherever his people gather. In this way, we may continue to revere Christ, even without God.

(By the way, don't you just love the duct tape holding this guy's raincoat together?)

Here's the problem - and not just for Captain Reavley - Christ believed in God, indeed He understood Himself to be the only begotten Son of the Father. When the disciples came asking who He was He accepted Peter's belief, that He was the Christ, the son of the living God; neither did He rebuke Thomas who greeted his risen Savior as "My Lord and my God."

Maybe Anne Perry does not accept the divinity of Christ; apparently she is a Mormon. But even this does not solve the problem. Even if Christ was not "the image of the invisible God," that same God was still His primary point of reference. Jesus of Nazareth was who He was because of how He understood His relationship with His Heavenly Father. So, to take concepts like honor and truth and love, and to ascribe them to a godless Jesus, is do strip them of meaning. What does 'love' mean without the narrative of redemption? We can give the word any meaning we choose, but we cannot force our interpretation upon Jesus. And if we attempt to divorce elements of His teaching from His understanding of the nature of God, we do violence to the Gospel.

Is there a warning there for today's church? When our understanding of the Christian faith is more anthropological then theological, then it is fundamentally flawed.