This post was written by Matt Bazemore on August 26, 2008
Previously I argued that developing and refining a theology of life is important for living as an integrated being as God intended. What comes into focus from a theology of life is a way of life. A way of life is the ordered aggregate of practices, responses and activities in which a person participates that grows out of that person’s theology. Let me expound on this definition. An ordered aggregate is a collection of entities arranged in a non-random way. An example of an ordered aggregate is the DNA molecule. DNA is a collection of certain molecules arranged in a particular order. An example of an unordered aggregate is a pile of sand. An ordered aggregate is implied by one’s understanding of what life is—it is ordered because it is informed by one’s theology of life.
The “practices, responses and activities” mentioned above are generic terms that summarize the whole range of what one does. “Practices” are things such as celebrating Christmas, going to church every Sunday, as well as the classic spiritual disciplines. Practices are regular, proactive steps that one takes in life. “Responses” are more passive in that they are ways in which we respond to unanticipated events in our lives. For instance, the Good Samaritan had a response of love toward the victim that he encountered. It was an unanticipated circumstance that arose, requiring a response. Responses also include ways we react to tragedy when it hits close to home. “Activities” refers to things that are not regular like practices but are still things that we do, whether internal or external. For example, mowing the lawn is an external activity, whereas thinking about mathematics is an internal activity. Again, I am using these three terms to refer to everything and anything that humans do. “Christian spirituality,” then, refers to both the theology of life and the way of life for the individual.
An important advantage of conceiving of “Christian spirituality” in these terms is that it helps counteract dehumanizing effects of many things in modern life, including compartmentalization in the academy. Compartmentalization occurs in the academy because the university values the gathering of information, but typically provides very little encouragement for other humanizing activities of the mind such as meditation and reflection. For example, “How does this research shape who I am?” is not a question that scholars are encouraged to ask in most academic settings. Concerns about goodness and beauty in every discipline have been marginalized in the modern academy as well as in modern culture as a whole. This marginalization is dehumanizing in that it leaves out an appreciation of goodness and beauty which is so essential to leading a flourishing human life. “Christian spirituality” as described above would enable one to recognize some dehumanizing effects of academic culture and take steps, such as including time for reflection in one’s daily schedule, to counteract it.
This post was written by Randy Newman on August 18, 2008
People with PhD’s in one field often get asked their opinions about things in just about every other field. This seems to be especially true at church. If you’re a professor in physics, you may get asked to teach Sunday school. You’re a teacher, after all. Most professors I know don’t fall into the trap of thinking they’re wise in all fields just because they’re highly educated in one.
Nevertheless, the questions will come. If you haven’t been asked already, I would guess it’s only a matter of time before someone asks you if you’ve read The Shack and they’ll want to know what you think of it.
Written by a businessman who simply wanted to explain to his children what kind of spiritual odyssey he’d been on for the previous 11 years, The Shack has become a publishing phenomenon with sales in the millions and devotees buying the book by the caseload to give to anyone and everyone they know.
Another thing I know about professors is that they’ve got too much to read. So, let me save you a little bit of time. You don’t need to read this book. It’s poorly written, theologically subversive, and ultimately profoundly unhelpful for people who may seem to find comfort or aid in the short run. You can find a very thorough (17 pages!) examination of the theological issues and other aspects of the book linked here to the very fine website The Discerning Reader (be sure to read the pdf version).
For our purposes here at Antecedents, I’ll tell you that certain theological issues have been considered complex and difficult for one very significant reason: they are complex and difficult. The reason the church, for the past 2000 years, has wrestled with the doctrine of the Trinity, the purpose and results of the atonement, and the nature of divine revelation is because those topics are multifaceted and loaded with implications for the living out of faith in Christ.
When people throughout history have sought to simplify the Trinity or tame the atonement or minimize the authority of scripture, the results have been disastrous – with long-term legacies of impotent churches, damaged lives, and abandoned missions and evangelism programs.
Yes, I am aware of the strength of language I’m choosing for this blog. I believe the book is that harmful. And the fact that so many evangelical Christians miss the implications or downright displays of heresy is terribly disturbing.
To be sure, there are some things Young gets right and there are parts that can help people forgive or move past offense. But the negatives far outweigh any positives.
Here’s just one example – the issue of subordination. Contrary to what William P. Young writes in his book, there is subordination within the Trinity. The Father is not submissive to the Son. Most blatant of all, the Trinity is not submissive to us! This does make a difference and, again, a brief look at the church’s history of doctrinal teaching will show you where these kinds of reworked theology have led.
Many people defend the book by saying, “It’s only a novel. Give it a good-faith reading.” This doesn’t hold. Sure, it’s a novel. But it’s a novel with a very clear agenda – to state theological truths that can help people overcome pain, abuse, or tragedy. What I am saying is that it does indeed communicate a theology – one that is harmful not helpful, subversive not substantial, and ultimately, one that may lead people to embrace a god who really will not give them long-term comfort or strength.
A review in Christianity Today identified the author as one “who’s made peace with God about his past, but is still not at peace with the church.” Unfortunately, the god he’s made peace with is not the God of the Bible. As a result, I doubt he’ll ever make peace with the church that worships that God.
The CT editorial urges us to not “pounce on theological errors without first taking the time to understand the story behind them.” Fair enough. Pouncing never reflects the grace of the gospel and I do admit that much that has been written about this book and other issues is far from charitable. I think I do understand the story (I tried to read it as thoroughly as I could) and I think it provides a very different answer than the Biblical gospel.
The fact remains that our friends and others who have experienced tragedy or been subjected to abuse or been treated cruelly by the church need something much better than what is offered to them in The Shack. Interestingly, many people in those kinds of situations have not resorted to rewriting orthodox theology.
Joni Earickson Tada’s many writings are theologically rich and orthodox and have helped people find the Triune God who is simultaneously holy (and therefore wrathful towards sin – something The Shack denies) and loving (far more than the “Trinity” William Young creates) and atoning. Gerald Sittser’s A Grace Disguised clings to the truth of Scripture as he tells of the car accident that tragically took the lives of his mother, wife, and daughter. (Buy that book by the caseload!). Jonathan Edwards got fired from his church after serving it sacrificially for many years. He didn’t rewrite his theology to make sense of his mistreatment.
We would do far better to offer our struggling, suffering, or abused friends some of the writings of authors like these instead of The Shack.
This post was written by Matt Bazemore on August 11, 2008
The Teacher in Ecclesiastes rightly said, “Of making many books there is no end, and much study is weariness to the flesh” (Eccl. 12:12, ESV). Living a life that values the mind is hard work and can be very tiring. But there is a danger that lurks in the shadows from which we must guard ourselves. The danger is that in developing one’s mind one ceases to live as an integrated being, i.e. neglecting the rest of one’s humanity. Since this neglect of one’s humanity is a very big topic I will be expounding on it, highlighting those things that have surfaced in my thinking as it currently stands.
In order to live a fully human life we need to have a grasp of what life is. Paul Gould in The Two Tasks of the Christian Scholar correctly locates the task of integration in the human person, who in turn finds himself in the meta-narrative of Scripture. It is in this meta-narrative that we also find the answer to the question of what life is.
Everyone has his own understanding of life which is dynamic and is (typically) refined over time. As Christian scholars we must call this understanding a theology of life in virtue of God’s relation to humanity. The word “theology” implies this relation as well as the knowledge God has revealed through Scripture and Creation. For example, we find that our Triune God is a humanist in the sense that he is for human flourishing. The glimpse we have of the Garden of Eden is a rich and full experience of life as it was meant to be. We also find in his general revelation that he has structured the world in a way that allows us to flourish as his image bearers.
I understand that in defending one’s dissertation one is usually asked how one’s work contributes to humanity’s knowledge. I think an important activity for Christian scholars to pursue is to reflect on how their field of study contributes to a biblically grounded theology of life. How does your field contribute to human flourishing? Such reflection is a crucial first step towards living as an integrated being.
This post was written by Mark Hansard on August 1, 2008
In the 1980’s the Christian College Coalition published the “Through the Eyes of Faith” series of undergraduate textbooks to integrate Christian thought with different academic disciplines. Ronald Well’s History Through the Eyes of Faith, published in 1989, is part of this series. Wells is a professor of history at Calvin College.
While quite dated now, Wells’ book, which is meant to supplement a secular textbook on the history of Western Civilization, gives a simple overview of Western history with an eye toward important ideas that shaped, or were shaped by, Christian thought. It connects a certain flow of ideas, beginning with Greek thought and running through the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and Postmodern thought. As is the case with books of this kind, the specialist in any one of these time periods may be scandalized at its simplicity. Nevertheless, it remains a helpful introduction to the flow of Western ideas, as well as an analysis of these ideas from a Christian perspective.
For example, in his discussion of America as an Enlightenment experiment, Wells asks if “the American idea” of unwavering faith in progress, particularly material prosperity as a means to happiness, is really consistent with the Christian ideas of the Fall and personal satisfaction primarily through Christ. While there are a number of complicated issues here that Wells doesn’t have the space to discuss, he is at his best when he is questioning how such ideas fit within historic Christian theology. His aim is to prick the thinking of the undergraduate, and in that he is largely successful.
On the other hand, his philosophy of history leaves much to be desired, particularly as it applies to Jesus. In his third chapter, “The Historicity of Jesus,” Wells declares that the “historical Jesus” was a man who lived in Nazareth and was crucified by the Romans, whereas “Jesus Christ, ‘the risen Lord’” is known through faith. The “risen Jesus” is not particularly supported by history, because the Gospels were written by “people of the faith community,” and are not independent accounts (among other problems which he lists). While he declares that there are other ways to obtain knowledge besides empirical investigation (through the Holy Spirit, for example), Wells’ bifurcation here between the “historical Jesus” and the “risen Jesus” has the effect of rendering the “risen Jesus” something less than knowledge (or at least, something less than academically respectable). His view seems to “relativize” knowledge in that the “risen Jesus” tends to become merely one of many perspectives on Jesus.
But it is not at all clear that events such as the Resurrection cannot be adjudicated through historical investigation. While it is true that interpretation and subjectivity are part of what the historian brings to the process, it doesn’t follow that the Gospels cannot be investigated for their historical reliability, their proximity to actual events, and so forth (and in fact, a number of scholars have recently done just that, with positive results. See Richard Bauckham, Jesus and the Eyewitnesses or N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God). To take the Risen Jesus out of the purview of history seems to concede too much to the (unfortunately too common) secular presuppositions in the Academy.
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