The life of Karl Barth (1886–1968) received magisterial treatment in Eberhard Busch's Karl Barth: His Life from Letters and Autobiographical Texts (trans. John Bowden [1976; rpr., Wipf & Stock, 2005]). Tietz's new presentation will take its place as a supplemental and equally vital text for understanding the complexities of Barth's life and work.
Tietz fully explores Barth as a human being, with all his intricacies, and the “conflicts” which marked his life in various ways—theological, professional, and personal. Drawing on unpublished letters, other primary sources, and wide resources, Tietz—who is Professor for Systematic Theology at the Institute of Hermeneutics and Philosophy of Religion at the University of Zurich—provides a new portrait of Barth through fresh eyes as she presents Barth's life and work. The result is a fully orbed portrait that does full justice to Barth's remarkable theological achievements, the depth of his labors, and the struggles in his personal life, particularly with his family living arrangement and his love relationship with his assistant, Charlotte von Kirschbaum, which Tietz presents in her chapter on “A Troubled ‘Ménage à Trois.’” An abundant number of photographs bring immediacy to the text. Victoria Barnett's splendidly fluid translation creates a strong sense of engagement with the narrative from beginning to end.
Tietz sets the record straight that Barth's shock at “the dreadful Manifest of the ninety-three German intellectuals who identified with the war policy of Kaiser Wilhelm II” was not from August 1914, but from October 4, 1914. Instead of the signatories including “the names of approximately all my German professors,” it was actually only Harnack, Hermann, and Schlatter who signed (69). But Tietz notes that “in retrospect Karl Barth saw the outbreak of the First World War and the support for that war among German theologians as decisive for his further theological development” (68). This took place while Barth was pastor in Safenwil (1911–1921). There, Barth's social engagement led him to join the Socialist Party (1915) and to his being called “the red pastor” (66). Tietz writes that “Barth held numerous ‘socialist speeches’ in Safenwil and elsewhere” (65).
Barth's reconsideration of the liberal theology he imbibed in German universities led to his striking out on his own theological path. His The Epistle to the Romans (1919) showed that Barth “placed no hope in a cultural reconstruction through which a ‘new world’ could arise” (90). The “change from the old era to the new” for Barth was the kingdom of God which is “the turning point in human history.” Tietz writes that for Barth the history of God has become visible in Jesus Christ: “He is the ‘divine Yes’ to humankind. He brings the old world of humanity to an end, and in him begins the new world of God’” (90).
Barth became a theology professor at Göttingen (1921–1925) and recognized that “there had been a new ‘turn’ in his theological thinking” (121). When the printer wanted a new edition of his Romans, Barth began again, not now assuming he “knew something of God,” about whom he had spoken so grandiosely in his 1919 Romans that “with a wink he noted to a fellow pastor” that his “printer once no longer had enough ‘Gs’ in his lettercase” (122). The Bible is our only source for knowing God—and ourselves. Tietz writes: “Theologically one always had to begin with the knowledge of God: ‘The knowledge of God is . . . the presupposition that we . . . always start with in our attempts to search for meaning’” (122). A result was that, in the 1922 new version of Romans, Barth said, “not a stone has been left standing” (125).
Barth moved to the University of Münster (1925–1930). In August 1925, Barth met Charlotte von Kirschbaum and, in 1927, they began a working relationship. She was indispensable to Barth's writing, which he indicated in the Foreword to Church Dogmatics III/3. The extent and intensity of their personal relationship in the context of the home into which von Kirschbaum moved (1929) was not public until the Barth descendants decided to permit letters to be published. Thus, “after 2000 the love relationship between Karl Barth and Charlotte von Kirschbaum, and the conflicts that this generated in Barth's marriage to Nelly Barth, became publicly known” (177). Tietz uses a range of letters and sources to describe “three under one roof,” writing that “personally, Barth never found a resolution for the burden of his ‘three-way relationship.’ He was well-aware of his own guilt and did not sugarcoat the situation nor did he attempt to justify it theologically” (409; see also 214–223; 390–393). In 1966, von Kirschbaum was moved to a nursing home due to dementia. She was buried in the Barth family plot.
Barth's full life, focused on writing the volumes of his Church Dogmatics, is presented clearly and in detail in Tietz's recounting. She integrates Barth's life and work, presenting Barth in relation to the Theological Declaration of Barmen and the Confessing Church (231–239), his dismissal from Germany in relation to the loyalty oath (239–248), and his years in Basel, in chapters on 1935–1945 and 1945–1962. She provides succinct discussions of “the White Whale”—the Church Dogmatics—and Barth's final years (1962–1968).
Barth's international acclaim was often expressed, as were his interests in ecumenism, state and church issues, and the renunciation of nuclear weapons. The ban on nuclear weapons was so important that Barth said: “I would be prepared in this matter if necessary to enter an alliance with the devil's grandmother!” (334)
Barth's health worsened from summer 1967. In his final weeks, he enjoyed “listening to Mozart, and smoking his pipe with a glass of good wine” (400–401). In his final phone call with long-time friend, Eduard Thurneysen, Barth said: “Let us stay confident, even in the darkest moments!” Barth died in his sleep on December 10, 1968. Tietz finely concludes that Barth believed, like the Reformers, that “human beings do not get beyond themselves by themselves. Human beings live from God as the One who faces them, the great You who unconditionally affirms the human being. Held by this You, the human being is free” (411).
