by Christopher D. Rodkey

The Heidelberg Catechism: A New Translation for the 20^th Century
Trans. Lee Barrett 
ISBN 978-0-8298-1762-1
Pilgrim
$6.50.

Who would have thought that The Heidelberg Catechism would again become controversial in 2008, nearly 450 years after it was written by Zacharius Ursinus and Caspar Olevianus?  Just earlier this year, in 2008, the Presbyterian USA denomination recognized that their translation of this historic text needed to be re-translated, after noticing that translators actually added a specific condemnation of homosexuality into the text when it was last translated in the 1960s-while the original texts actually had no mention of homosexuality at all.  While I find this discovery astounding, how many of us are surprised by these kinds of "mistakes of translation" from mainline churches anymore?

While the Presbyterians will surely continue to debate having a new translation, Lee Barrett, III, Professor of Theology at Lancaster Theological Seminary, has offered a fine new translation, primarily based on the original German and Latin texts, and informed by later editions.  The translation is contemporary but also true to the phrasing of the original, sometimes retaining those long sentences common to the original languages.  Those who grew up with the Catechism in their churches will find a wonderful new translation that they will recognize, and those new to the Catechism will find it more accessible than previous translations.

Barrett's helpful introduction is an apology for the Catechism itself.  One obvious question is whether the Catechism is relevant today as a Christian practice.  For Barrett, the answer is a resounding yes.  Generally stated, a document such as the Heidelberg Catechism will always be relevant to the contemporary church because of its relevance and the need for simple doctrinal teaching in an era of postmodern confusion.

Some of the debate surrounding the emergent conversation, for example, is around doctrinal teaching-what is it that "emergents" or "postmodern" Christians really believe?  For many of us, we have refused to answer this question, knowing that by creating doctrinal standards, we close the conversation off on certain topics and certain people.  We also know that many of those who ask emergents to make doctrinal statements also ask not out of any ecclesiological or theological curiosity but to doctrinally determine whether emergents are "Christian" or not.

At the same time, the emergent movement, generally speaking, may perhaps have a greater openness to the idea of ‘catechesis' as a form of worship or spiritual practice than what might be noticed at first glance.  The tremendous amount of writing, publishing, blogging, and open conversation around the emergent experience is that of a learning, reading, and conversational community-it is a community of interpreters and interpretation.  A spiritual practice surrounding catechesis is one that should invite conversation.

But is the Heidelberg Catechism still relevant?  It is surprising to me how many churches in the Reformed tradition, especially United Church of Christ congregations in Pennsylvania, still today use the Heidelberg Catechism as part of their Sunday worship.  Many of these Pennsylvania churches' worship traditions involving the Catechism trace their roots in the Mercersburg Controversy of the mid-nineteenth century.  This controversy and its later movement was a liberal approach to reaching out to new converts by returning to more traditional practices and worship styles while remaining engaged in contemporary musical and language trends.  Such intentions should sound familiar to, and carry resonance with, readers of Everyday Liturgy. 

To this end, I disagree with Barrett's position that in these postmodern times Christians need catechesis to hold onto some certainty against the tehom of confusion.  Rather, it seems to me that we need Catechesis and to grow in community, learn from traditions, and challenge ourselves.  The form of the Heidelberg Catechism is one predisposed to conversation that I do not think necessarily closes the conversation.  The most famous part of the Catechism is its first question, "What is your only comfort in life and death?"  The answer:  "That I belong, both body and soul and in life and in death, not to myself, but to my faithful savior Jesus Christ" (29).  What this means and how this belief might manifest itself can certainly take different forms for any Christian community.  As Barrett points out (24-25), the nature of God in philosophical terminology is left out throughout the Catechism, suggesting that its authors knew better than to make something resembling the documents following the Council of Trent.  Instead, the focus is on the "comfort" that faith brings, rather than the intellectual complexities that are often said to qualify the Christian faith.

Finally, I suggest that a new look at the Heidelberg Catechism remind us that Catechesis is a spiritual practice.  I do not necessarily think that many Christian communities might benefit from writing their own catechism, but many might find good conversations around the way that the Heidelberg Catechism was written-which was intended to be a devotional tool.  (The Catechism itself organized into fifty-two sets of questions and answers for the fifty-two weeks of the calendar.)  At the same time, by thinking through these questions, it may be helpful for small groups to define what questions are their questions and which ones are not, and how living these questions has meaning.  The answers will likely be lived responses rather than written statements to be read 450 years later.