The Adulterer, Karl Barth

In this new era of internet transparency, where many sins are much harder to cover up (and many conspiracy theories are much harder to thwart), we have grown used to getting our reveals in real time, when consequences can still ensue for those responsible. It is thus severely frustrating that the large dark shadow hanging over twentieth century Christian Trinitarian theology has risen so slowly. It has taken some time for the truth about one of its surprisingly still respected figures to be attended to, but the ongoing overlooking of it is inexcusable. Writing anything about the doctrine of the Trinity in the twentieth century obliges one to cite Karl Barth, especially in reference to a relational conception of humanity as the image of God, even though that matter was much better and earlier handled by Herman Bavinck.

 

But should this obligation linger? Eduard Thurneysen, friend and confidante of both Karl Barth (d. 1968) and his “secretary,” Charlotte von Kirschbaum, published correspondence he had from them in the 1970s, but kept their adultery-revealing parts hidden. So, it was not until 1990s that Barth’s children began to publish the full letters between their father and their “Aunt Lollo,” as they affectionately called Charlotte. By then, the academic pavement of their father’s legacy was cemented in, along with, no doubt, their income stream from all his published works. It took until 2008 for the full known correspondence between Barth and von Kirschbaum to come out, revealing the excruciation through which they put Nelly Barth, his wife, who often “lay down crying.” But these letters were in German. It was a still slower dawn for English readers.

 

In 2016, Christiane Tietz delivered her “Karl Barth and Charlotte von Kirschbaum” lecture in English detailing the adultery, followed by a Theology Today article a year later, and then by a book a year after that. She quotes Barth’s justifications of his sin such as You cannot really appreciate my pain from my marriage!, and This feels so right, it can’t be wrong!, and God put me in this position! (go read James 1:13), and something similar to It just happened—I threw in this jewelry and out came this calf! I have been a pastor for over twenty years and have had various adulterers sitting in my office looking across at me with woeful eyes. Let me tell you, they say the exact same things. The only difference is that they do not have an academic world fawning over them. Barth comes across to me as a spoiled brat. There is little more here than a refusal to repent and submit to God’s righteous word, which when heeded would bring good for everyone involved.

 

Before you quote John 8:7, “Let him who is without sin…cast the first stone,” let us recognize the seriousness of this sin and the real problem of its denial. We all have clay feet, and fail to live up to God’s righteous law, but there is an order of magnitude between yelling at my wife and cheating on her. The damage done by adultery of the one to the many connected casts the trespass across the line of heinousness (Westminster Shorter Catechism #83). And it is not even really the sin, but how he justified and never acknowledged it. Barth would have an offer of forgiveness from Christ, but not a right to remain in moral failure as a doctor of the church. And that offer comes with confession and repentance. Instead, we hear from close accounts only self-justification and indignancy when challenged.

 

When the Stoevesandt couple, close friends of the family, each write long letters gently calling Barth to his responsibility to his wife and to the church, he is offended that they dare question him. When Barth’s own mother rebukes him, saying that God’s commandments are for all of us, not just some of us, and that the most brilliant theology is worthless if the theologian shipwrecks his own house—words perhaps most aptly delivered from one’s parent–Barth responds with indignance that she speak into his life as a grown man.

 

The unrepentant adulterer is instead encouraged as those involved (the adulterers themselves, the children, the biographer Tietz, even, at times, the wife) excuse the sin because of the supposed greatness of the guy. People trip over themselves to justify his incorrigible behavior because the theology he is doing is allegedly so important. This allowance to defy God’s moral law for the sake of giftedness cannot be farther from the gospel of Jesus Christ (1Timothy 1:8-11).

 

Charlotte von Kirschbaum and Karl Barth, Photo copyright of the Karl Barth-Archiv in Basel, Switzerland

Yet, these “oh-do-let’s-be-balanced-because-Barth-was-so-important” excuses continue to this day.  Barth scholar, George Hunsinger, describes von Kirschbaum as “gripped by a sense of the greatness of Barth’s contribution.” In his pleading review of Suzanne Selinger’s Karl Barth: A Life in Conflict Charlotte von Kirschbaum and Karl Barth: A Study in Biography and the History of Theology (1998), Hunsinger says that her accusations make him think of the affliction of St. Sebastian. He actually compares poor Barth to St. Sebastian. The Princeton Theological Seminary’s “Center for Barth Studies” website proudly presents this review. I suppose they must needs offer some such pretext in order to continue to exist.

 

Funny, when I read of Karl Barth’s life, I don’t think of St. Sebastian. I think rather of the Pharisees and Jesus’ disgust with them in Matthew 12:34: How can someone speak good when doing evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. Sure enough, such a life explains Barth’s low view of the Church. Of course. Why would he give credence to the institution that would, and should have, held him accountable? And now we can see where Barth’s doctrine of scripture comes from. Certainly, one doesn’t need to submit to parts of the Bible that are inconvenient. It must be that the Bible is not the word of God, it only contains it. So, God’s word is only present in its pages where it agrees with you. I still remember Barth’s influence on the neo-orthodox chaplain in my university, trying to explain the campus’ current evangelical students’ enthusiasm: “Jesus died for us. People have neglected to be grateful for that.” Of course. The Spirit justifies and saves everybody regardless of their response. This is the legacy of an unrepentant adulterous theologian.

 

Barth’s relationship with von Kirschbaum began in 1925, a hundred years ago this summer. On this infamous anniversary, I am disgusted that it took this long for this man’s true nature to be known. I am also disgusted at his daring to speak as an authority on a God Who stands for the direct opposite of the man’s own treatment of women made in God’s image. But, most of all, I am disgusted at the polite ignoring of the “Christian” academy in the continuing influence this man holds.

 

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *