St. Paul’s statement about the community at Corinth, “you show that you are a letter of Christ, prepared by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts” (2 Cor 3:3), reminds us of the concern Socrates manifested in the Platonic dialogue Phaedrus, when he stated that if speech is to be effective and capable of transforming a person, it must come from the soul of the speaker and reach the soul of the listener.[1]
If we pay attention to Paul’s text, we see his discourse has the form of a letter. It has an author, Christ, who is outside time and space, and an editor, Paul himself, through his ministry in time and space. It has addressees (“you are”). It is then the word of Christ that the Spirit of the living God, acting on the recipients through the ministry of the writer, engraves in their hearts. This is the living word, which is capable of giving life, in that “he has made us competent to be ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life” (2 Cor 3:6).
The discourse that touches the soul is both sustaining and life-giving. It is the “Word” that comes forth from God, the “Father,” and is imprinted in the human soul through the action of the Spirit (cf. John. 14:26). In this way, theological discourse has, from the speaker’s point of view, a Trinitarian origin. The Word – Scripture – becomes the foundation of the relationship between God and human beings.
This Scripture is “Word,” with a capital “W” and in the singular. With a capital “W” because it is the Word of God and is received as such: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. […] And the Word became flesh” (John 1:1, 14). It is in the singular, because he is the one saving Word, the Son of God: “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world” (John 1:9). One Word that is translated in many and various ways over time (cf. Heb 1:1-2).
Now, in time, the Word itself grounds the exercise of memory: “Do this in memory of me” (1 Cor 11:24). It is the Word itself that calls on memory (and, in this case, memory is closely linked to real presence). But it, unlike for speech as envisaged by Plato, it does not need memory to remain alive. On the contrary, it is the speaker who needs memory and to exercise memory in order to have life (cf. John 3:15). Therefore, theology is concerned with a discourse of God addressed to the person’s soul, a discourse that lives in memory and is a bond of unity in time, but whose meaning is in eternity.
In what way, then, is the discourse “theological?” First, we must note that it is a discourse in tension between time and eternity and that it acquires its meaning from eternity. However, this relationship between time and eternity comes about differently according to three meanings of the term logos. Therefore, the discourse is theological at three levels. This article is reserved for paid subscribers. Please subscribe to continue reading this article
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