2. The Written Word of God.
The "written Word of God" is a topic much closer to the root of Protestant Christian identity, and as such most of Barth's comments here seem to be written with Protestant disputes in mind.
But he does not begin with Protestants, but again with a Catholic understanding, since the Church must proclaim upon the basis of the recollection of past revelation, and in hope and expectation of future revelation. The Church speaks on the basis that God's Word has already been spoken, and hence in recollection.
Such recollection might mean the "actualisation of a revealedness of God, originally immanent in the existence of every [human] .... [and] would thus be identical with the discovery ... of the timeless essential state of [the human itself], namely, [humans'] relationship to the eternal or absolute." (I/1/111) Barth in a supportive excursus traces this view to St. Augustine's memoria, and its connection with Platonic anamnesis. Thus the Church could be founded upon herself as the Church "in order, by an ever-new return to herself as the Church --and that precisely would be the recollection of God's past revelation" (I/1/112). In a rhetorical excursus, Barth quips that "the Neoplatonist and the Catholic Churchman might obviously exist very well in personal union in Augustine." (ibid.)
Based upon reasoning from such a concept of divine freedom or power, no reason can exist why this should not be the state of affairs: but such a reason does consist in the fact "that God has not made this use of His freedom or power." In other words, it could be so, but in fact the witness of the written Word of God points us "in a totally different direction." (ibid.)
On the basis of exegesis --Barth's "exegetical path"-- the Church "has not the confidence to appeal, for her venture of proclamation, to herself as the fountain of the divine Word." (ibid.) Rather, the Church ventures proclamation on the basis of the commission, object, judgment, event "in recollection of which she is accredited in her proclamation." (I/1/113) Jesus Christ, head of the Church, "possesses the Church in Himself, but not the Church Him in herself." There is no interchangeable relationship: "He is immanent in Her only because He transcends her." (ibid.) Concretely, over against the Church stands an entity like the church as a phenomenon, yet different from and superior to it: Holy Scripture. "It is the bolt here actually thrust home against the Platonic anamnesis." (ibid.)
Simply Holy Scripture by tells us what God's past revelation (is), which we have to recollect. It is the canon, the measure or regula fidei. Hence the church is not just left alone, but the Scripture founds the Church's proclamation as object, as the judgment to which her proclamation is liable. But it is not an abstract general principle; rather the connection is determinative of the content of proclamation: an order received, an obligation incurred. Holy Scripture is a Church document, proclamation in writing, the nub of the Church's life: preaching today is a continuation of the same event (or series of events) that finds Jeremiah and Paul at once end and the preacher of the Gospel today at the other end. (I/1/114)
Since Holy Scripture is in itself the deposit of proclamation (prophetic, apostolic) made in the past by human mouths, this raises the question of succession or vicariate for the Church's Lord. According to Barth Protestant Christians cannot initially take exception to the Roman Catholic definition of this vicariate, because that there is succession was a concept well-founded in early tradition and Patristic writers. "...The difference between the evangelical and the Catholic view consists here too not in the matter of the That but in the matter of the How. . . . [and] is directly singly and solely against the fact that Tu es Petrus, etc. is mechanically taken over the head of the first Peter to every succeeding Roman bishop as the second, third, and hundreth Peter, as the succession . . . could be other than pneumatic, or as if being pneumatic it could be tied down to the profane fact of such a list of bishops." (I/1/116) By this view Peter, the apostolate, and Holy Scripture cease to be a free power in the Church and over against the Church, "because on this presupposition the Church is once more left to herself ..." (ibid.) And an additional oral, unwritten tradition could "thinly" apply here, but in fact in such unwritten tradition "The Church is not addressed, but is engaged in a dialogue with herself" because such unwritten tradition lacks objective stability. (I/1/118)
The concrete authority of free Holy Scripture requires also a thorough-going distinction between Text and commentary. "The very exegesis without which the norm cannot attain to validity as a norm is thus also a sign of the standing danger of a confiscation of the Bible by the Church." (I/1/119) Any exegesis stands in danger of become imposition rather than exposition, and deteriorate into a dialogue of the Church with itself. But self-defence of the text must be left to the text itself: a free, objective reality which confronts the life of the Church with a word of judgment and grace.
In Barth's final analysis the canon is the Canon simply because it is so: "it imposes itself as such." (I/1/121) This reflects the fundamental free reality of the Word of grace:
Scripture of this content sets it natural bounds to recollection in the form of self-dialogue; that is, if "Immanuel, with us, sinners!" holds good, then our own deepest ground of being, watever we may hold regarding it, at least cannot be God's past revelation, then our coming to ourselves --however significant, for that matter, such a coming may be--has nothing to do with returning to God's revelation. Scripture of this content must remain confronting the life of the Church . . . as the criterion that refuses to be dissolved into the historical life of the Church." (I/1/121-122)
"The Bible is God's Word" is a confessional statement: we confess and acknowledge remembrance of God's past revelation and hope for God's future, as the warrant and ground for proclamation in the present. It is a confession of faith "that hears Gd Himself speak in the human word of the Bible." (1/1/123) This must be allowed as true "as a description of the act of God in the Bible ... whatever the experiences may be which we have or do not have in that connection." (ibid.) This act of God is an event, not that humans reach out to the Bible, but that the Bible has reached out, and reaches out, to humans. "The Bible therefore becomes God's Word in this event, and it is to its being in this becoming that the tiny word "is" relates, in the statement that the Bible is God's Word." (I/1/124)
This cuts equally against Roman Catholic "mechanical" dogmatics as well as liberal Protestant interpretation in which religious experience plays a vital role in hearing God's Word in Scripture (i.e., Schleiermacher, Bushnell, etc.)
Barth's commitment to the Word of God as Event here is difficult to hear, because humans always want an external criterion by which to measure how and why God's Word is in Holy Scripture. Barth has certainly been accused of a certain arbitrariness here (and elsewhere): God's Word simply imposes itself in Holy Scripture. And the sheer "given-ness" of Word of God as Event is hard to avoid here --the alternative being some human conception, "with which we were in a position to measure the Bible, and on the basis of it to assign it tis distinctive position." (I/1/120). In that case our hearing of God's Word in Holy Scripture is logically dependent upon the wisdom of our (or the Church's) self-dialogue, although it would be a self-dialogue concerned with the Bible.
Barth is trying to move beyond the Church's self-dialogue about the Bible (ever a clear and present danger in theological education!) to a hearing of God's Word Itself in the event of hearing Holy Scripture. The wisdom of the traditional prayer (included in Anglican and Episcopal worship since 1549) "blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scripture(s) to be written for our learning" (placed by Cranmer et al. 1549 in Advent, but in the 1979 Book on the penultimate Sunday of Pentecost) is that it recognizes God's role in establishing "all Holy Scripture(s)" as a historical fact independent of the Church's control, and which confronts the Church with God's judgment and grace.
Barth does note, however, "the great historical example of [the re-discovery of the objective reality of the Canon], given to the Church in virtue of its content, is the early period of the Reformation. What was enacted in Wittenberg and Zürich in those twenty, in Geneva, in those thirty, years of the 16th century, is like a book of illustrations ..." (I/1/122) As a historian, this poses an interesting dilemma: the events of those specific times and places takes a place very close to the inner reality of Scripture. In this case, Church History is not just the secondary (though important) discipline Barth described in I/1/3 but runs the danger of either being reduced to a "a book of illustrations" of a particular doctrinal position, or of being only partially understood. Much of the reality of Wittenberg, Zürich, and Geneva --and of Strasbourg, Cologne, Amsterdam, London, and elsewhere-- was a great deal messier and less amenable to reduction to "a book of illustrations."
Barth does not make his own position dependent upon the truth of any historical interpretation of those times and places, so much as imply that those times and places take an important place in "holy memory" --a memory which is always perilous. Would the Church now want to affirm everything Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, Bucer, Cranmer, et al. did, or only some things? Upon which basis? "Great historical examples" of any doctrinal position or subscribed human idea have a funny way of escaping intellectual control and confronting those who hold them with the sheer otherness or contrariness of other human beings acting in all their historical contingency and agency.