Theology of the Pain of God: The First Original Theology From Japan

This is a relatively short book, but it is exceptionally deep and amazingly thorough in scope and perceptive in its arguments. It is particularly exemplary for its responsible engagement with the tradition of Christian thought and Kitamori's ability to explore issues at the boundaries of precedent or orthodoxy without being too eager to conveniently step outside of those boundaries.His writing, in translation, is concise and accessible. Fortunately, it is not necessary to be as well-read as Kitamori to benefit from this work. Kitamori does not always name or explicate his interlocutors, though, so a background in the history of Christian theology and some philosophy makes for an even more rewarding read, especially since attention to Kitamori's reading of this or that historical figure can be a highly interesting dimension as well.Drawing on the Scriptures, the thought of Martin Luther, and echoing many voices and streams from Christian tradition, Kitamori discusses the significance of Christ and his Passion as revelatory of a fundamental, paradoxical, deeply painful wound within the Godhead itself, and of the nature of the relationship between God's wrath and God's love. The divine anguish at the nexus of these mysteries has implications for how one might understand aspects of the Christian life, including ethics, mysticism, and eschatology. That many central aspects of his innovative ideas are not wholly new is a testament to the author's subtlety, creativity, and responsibility to tradition. Kitamori also has an almost uncanny ability to anticipate some of the questions that might arise and the answers his theology might give.The work is also significant as one which addresses the role of one's national/cultural background or context in theological work, especially if that background or context is not one which has historically been part of the Christian "conversation" as much as some Western cultures have. Many readers today might not be entirely comfortable with aspects of his way of analyzing the characteristics of cultures; nevertheless, Kitamori's ideas and experience as a Japanese Lutheran Christian are thought-provoking and inspiring. Yet the merit of this work deserves attention even apart from the unique circumstances of its origin.EDIT: After re-visiting this book in depth several years later, after the novelty's worn off, what I wrote above still stands, but I also have a greater appreciation for the potentially problematic features of Kitamori's theology of the pain of God. For example, if penal substitution is not your preferred atonement theology, some of what Kitamori believes about what salvation is about may or may not fit with your view. (And if it is, it still may not fit!) It's very thought provoking to try to figure out just how necessary or central suffering is, and how, in Kitamori's model. Also, the systematic treatment of all aspects of theology based on this one idea is responsible but could also leave the reader wondering whether the author might be taking it a bit too far.In short, upon re-reading the book, it actually seems more theologically adventurous than it did at first, and that is not necessarily a bad thing at all.

Kitamore expounds on the inner divine attitude towards sinners with Jeremiah 31:20 as the focal point; he sees the pain of God as the heart of the Gospel message (p.19).The Cross is where the pain of God is revealed to the eyes of sinful mankind. What is this "pain of God"? Kitamore contends it "reflects his will to love the objects of his wrath...God himself was broken, wounded and suffered because he embraced those who should not be embraced" (p.21,22). God's love is rooted in this pain.This is a profound and fascinating read. The depth, which it brings to the subject, will bring to clearer light - to the one who would meditatively read it - the truly Biblical teaching regarding God's attitude towards sinful mankind and how that love is supremely revealed at the Cross of Jesus Christ.This is not an everyday, normal, surface reading of how God feels.Kitamore is able to reconcile how the Cross is both a revelation of God's wrath and God's love for men in a way I have never heard explained and does so in a clear, yet penetrating manner.Years before reading this book, I myself have come to believe that God's love for man as created and his hatred for men as sinful was revealed at the Cross but was unable to reconcile these diametrically opposed and exclusive feelings and articulate how these diametrically opposed feeling, which seemed to exclude each other, were met at the Cross until now.This book helped to resolve for me the perplexing issue of God's inner attitude - his feelings of love and hate for mankind - and how it converges at the Cross.

For Kitamori, love and pain are almost synonymous. Therefore, if God is love, then God is also in pain. This is the basic thesis that Kitamori attempts to unfold in his book.I agree in theory with what Kitamori argues, but I disagree completely with how he arrives at his conclusion. He frequently writes that the pain of God arises out of the wrath of God and the desire of God to punish the sin that is in the lives of those He loves. For Kitamori, the pain of God is really closer to a conflict within God. He loves people, but hates their sin, and so is conflicted.I do not think the pain of God arises from God's wrath, but simply rises out of concern for loved ones who are being hurt by sin.Due to the pervasiveness of this wrath of God theme in the book, I have trouble recommending it.

I enjoyed reading this book and found it to be very inspiring and well written. I have some reservations about it, ultimately, which is why I gave it four and not five stars. For it's premise and it's innovation (especially for the time it was written, just after World War II) it deserves five stars, but I cannot overcome some difficult conclusions even though I greatly enjoyed this book and found it exceptional. I have written a full review of this book on my website: [...]

This wasn’t quite what I expected. I was hoping that this would offer an Eastern perspective on Christianity, one free from Western Christianity’s platonic infatuation. Sadly, it didn’t. Kitamori offers some interesting thoughts, but he’s still caught up in trying to answer platonic questions instead of refuting them as the wrong questions to begin with.Having said that, I liked what he described as the pain of God, and although Kitamori is still dialoging with a Western perspective, he does offer some interesting contrasts—insights that should rightly jar some of our thinking. Kitamori’s view of God’s wrath and pain has similarities and hints to the Jewish theologian, Abraham Heschel’s description of the ‘pathos’ of God (see his book, The Prophets). Personally, I prefer Heschel’s approach, as it’s conveyed in a more clearer and concise way, whereas Kitamori does seem to get tangled up, again, in trying to make his perspective fit into a platonic framework.Overall, The Theology of the Pain of God contains some terrific thoughts that find themselves buried in a complex and, at times, unnecessary argument.—Tristan Sherwin, author of Living the Dream?:The Problem with Escapist, Exhibitionist, Empire-Building Christianity