The 20th century 'new quest' for the historical Jesus was initiated by those of Bultmann's colleagues who were less skeptical than he. It is a modern attempt to make Jesus Christ credible and intelligible for the modern West, and for all those with a critical-historical consciousness: "Historical studies indicate that the gospels are not historical biographies and seem to be a mixture of fact and fiction. This state of affairs raises questions for many thoughtful people, and the Jesus quest is a way of addressing these issues" (Tho 106). Thus the new quest also serves an apologetic and evangelical aim; its spreads "the good news of Jesus Christ".

 The New Quest also recognizes that Christian faith is firmly bound to history by an intimate and unbreakable bond. Even such theologically exalted faith- statements as the Nicene Creed have that their core assertions of historical fact: "He was born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried".  This meager historical remnant is enwrapped in Greek theology such that the resulting portrait looks very different from the humble rabbi from Nazareth. And so in this it seems we have two distinct objects: the glorified Christ of dogma here, and the humble carpenter of Galilee there. Now this distinction is both useful and necessary insofar as it helps us to bear in mind that faith-statements sometimes go well beyond the actual reality that inspired them; they go deep into the realm of mythology, and even beyond.

 However, we should not lose sight of the fact that history and dogma and myth all refer ultimately to the same person; which is to say that in reality there are not two entities here, but only one. The seeming contrast results from the radically different points-of-view; both of which are valid: "Poetry, parable and legend ... can communicate more relevant truth than an historical report" (Kung, 'On Being a Christian', p.415). Even so, the historical approach within Christology is most likely the best way to fix whatever actual unity exists between the Jesus of History and the Christ of Faith. The centrally important events of the Death and Resurrection establish the pivotal point of continuity between Jesus' former life and activities, and the origin and growth of the disciples' post-Easter faith.

  In order for this to work, we must assume (along with Pannenberg) that the Resurrection is an actual historical event (ie. not some collective delusion or concocted fantasy). Now Bultmann flatly rejects this idea, and even Rahner shies away from it; but the very nature of the Easter faith, and the events that followed the Resurrection, lead us to suppose that something remarkable did indeed happen. [Rahner's explanation of what that 'something remarkable' actually was is perhaps the weakest link in his Christology.] Now the Resurrection-event is surely miraculous, mysterious, and unprecedented, but this unabashed supernaturalism is not enough to merit automatic rejection; despite its obvious lack of intelligibility. After all, if Christians jettison the Resurrection in the name of reason, or science, or what not, then "our faith is in vain" (St. Paul).

 The new quest also shows that the major weakness of the classic Christology is that it largely ignores or bypasses the history of Jesus' ministry. This was due in part to an inadequate conception of 'being and time'; which meant an ahistorical and static view of the world and human nature. But the curious thing about Bultmann, Pannenberg, and Moltmann is that, despite their enlightened outlook, they too tend to overlook Jesus' earthly life.  Bultmann justifies this position by claiming that we simply cannot recover the real Jesus: "... we can know almost nothing concerning the life and personality of Jesus" ('Jesus and Word' p.8).

  Although he came to admit that the new quest did produce results, his emphasis remained upon the existential validity of the kerygma. Where Bultmann neglects the past, Pannenberg overemphasizes the future, and Jesus' proleptic nature, such that he "ignored the miracles and other prominent themes of Jesus' life" (O'C, 'What Say', p.9). As for Moltmann, in his 'Theology of Hope' he "passed over the ministry in almost total silence" (O'C, 'What Say', p.10). Our christological synthesis endorses the new quest, for it has much to contribute besides the basic critical function.

 One of the main concerns of modern Christology, arising from the various 'Quests', is the abrupt (and often unacknowledged) transition from the Jesus of History to the Christ of Faith; which is also the problem of Christian origins. This problem of the genesis of Christian faith is central to contemporary Christology because it sums up the major concerns and results of Christian thought since the Enlightenment. It also provides a good way of assessing the identity and mission of Jesus within the context of the social-religious movement that arose in his wake.

  Now the completely ahistorical perspective of the old-style Christology only broke down about two centuries ago when the new historical science of biblical-criticism became aware of a distinction between the Jesus of History and the Christ of Faith. This was based on the 'discovery' that the full Christian faith in Jesus as Messiah, Lord, and Son of God came about only after his death and resurrection. The problem then became one of accounting for the continuity and discontinuity in Jesus' status, and what this implied about his person, function, constitution, etc.

 Since the pre-Easter faith of the Twelve was shattered by the scandal of the Cross - graphically illustrated by Peter's threefold denial - it seems that there is a radical discontinuity between the rabbi from Nazareth and the Kerygmatic Christ.  Indeed, for Bultmann, it is "the Christ of the Kerygma and not the person of the historical Jesus who is the object of faith" ('Historical Jesus and the Kerygmatic Christ', p.17). In any case, it was the discovery of the Death and Resurrection as the original starting point of the Christian faith that determined the course of modern Christology: Pannenberg emphasizes the Resurrection, while Moltmann focuses on the Cross. In Moltmann's estimate, the "point at which the history of Jesus and the proclamation of Christ coincide is the Cross". In short, Jesus' death and resurrection is the "central mystery around which everything takes shape" (O'C, 'Int.Jesus', p.32).

 Biblical criticism has (in effect) changed the orientation of Christology away from the vertical categories of 'above' and 'below' to the horizontal categories of 'before' and 'after'. In doing so, it has brought Christology down to earth, more or less. Prior to this 90 degree shift in orientation, the general understanding of Jesus Christ was determined by a more deistic image of God, as fixed within the culture surrounding the theologians of Christendom. Today, however, both deity and humanity are better understood in the light of the mission and person of Jesus Christ, such that our image of God and human being is determined by the revelation of the Christ-event in its entirety.

 Once we grant that the distinction between the Jesus of History and the Christ of Faith is a valid one, both historically and theologically, then the problem becomes one of locating the focus of continuity. [However, we must also bear in mind that the "question of the vital continuity between the faith of the primitive church and 'Jesus of Nazareth' is something quite different from the question of the continuity between a scientifically based, historical Jesus figure and the aforesaid faith" (Sch 35).] This all important focal point cannot be Christian faith itself since this was the result of Easter (ie. Christian faith began as faith in the Risen One). Many theologians point to the three days encompassing the death and resurrection as the focal point, for it was the events of those few days that changed everything.

  But this will not do either, for a specific moment of history charged with salvific, eschatological, and apocalyptic importance inevitably becomes isolated and detached from what came before and continued after. Moreover, when we recall that no one actually witnessed the resurrection event itself, then we can see the danger involved in making these events bear such extreme weight. In short, events as such cannot act as the sole or prime medium of continuity; what is needed is something that remains essentially the same before, during, and after the death and resurrection, and this can only be the person of Jesus, who is the 'Crucified and Risen One'.

 But we cannot leave the matter to rest here, for the unusual claims made by Christian faith about this person can only be false mythical accretions if their reference is to a human person; after all, the bestowal of divine qualities and attributes to any human being is sheer idolatry (as the first century Jews were so well aware). The continuity we seek can only exist in reference to a truly divine person; only then can Christian faith be justified, and Christian confession vindicated. Thus Balthasar's 'theological project' rightly maintains a strong vertical orientation by the uncompromising assertion and recognition that Jesus Christ is the divine person of the Logos before, during, and after the death and resurrection.

  Now some theologians (eg. Schillebeeckx and MacQuarrie) think it self-evident that Jesus was a human person, else he could not be "a real man". But Balthasar rightly points out that his humanity is NOT thereby compromised: the concept - or rather, the reality - of Kenosis is the only thing that makes the ideas of Incarnation and the 'God-Man' even semi-intelligible (ie. the elements of paradox and mystery remain). The point I wish to make here is simply that to reduce Jesus to a "mere man", while it doubtless makes him more intelligible to the modern mind, is to place Christology in a highly untenable position.

 Perhaps the most popular way of establishing the continuity between the Jesus of History and the Christ of Faith is to point to the implicit Christology lying behind Jesus' words and deeds during the course of his public ministry. More specifically, it is the claim to authority hidden, as it were, within his proclamation and work that justifies the seemingly exaggerated titles conferred upon Jesus Christ by the early Greek churches (eg. Cosmocrater). Even though the New Testament often refers to Jesus as prophet and Rabbi, these titles are not really appropriate; for (as Balthasar points out) his claim to authority goes far beyond what any prophet or rabbi would dare. Indeed, in forgiving sins willy-nilly he assumes the very authority of God. Therefore, "the continuity between Jesus and the apostolic kerygma consists in the fact that Jesus' community designated and brought to expression the claim of Jesus in the only way possible at that time by its confession of him as Messiah and Son of God" (Pan 57).