One of the consequences of reading history, at least for me, is a temptation toward relativism. So many people have tried so many different things and believed so many different methods when it comes to being and building the church. What makes me think that I have any place (or stand any chance?) of thinking I know better or see clearer? How can I possibly dare to claim to say things that are True with a capital ‘t’?
Take for example the fact, recently learnt by me, that the Great Commission in Matthew’s gospel in which Jesus commanded his apostles to take the gospel to all nations was, for most of history believed to be something commanded only to the Apostles. It was believed that since they’d completed this commission, themselves having taken the gospel to the end of the known world, the burden of Christ’s command had been fulfilled. It wasn’t until 1830 when the now common opinion that Christ’s command applies to all christians, and not just the apostles, became the mainstream view.
Or take the fact that up until the late 16th Century everyone but everyone within the Judeo-Christian tradition (including Islam) held that earning interest on loans was a mortal sin, many calling for it to be accompanied by the death penalty. Calvin however, in a private letter to a friend that was only published after his death, questioned the old view and thus exceptions began to be made. What caused Calvin to question the norm? It was the rise of capitalism and his concerns for his beloved Geneva that prompted fresh reflections around the principle and practise of interest laws.
In fact the relationship between historical developments and theological innovation has long been a recognised aspect of Protestantism. From very early on the church was arranged hierarchically but owing to the establishing of a new democracy in North America, the congregationalist structure became the norm. Cultural innovation prompted theological reflection.
There are, no doubt, many more examples that one could site to make the same point. Not only does it tend one toward relativism but it also makes one wonder about the nature of the Holy Spirit’s leadership of the church. Heroes of the faith do things, say things and believe things that the subsequent generations find themselves embarrassed by, or worse. Zwingli approved of the death penalty being passed on those committed to adult baptism, Melanchthon approved of Phillip of Hesse’s bigamous marriage (for politically expedient as much as theological reasons), Luther laid the foundations for German anti-semitism and Pope Gregory XIII had church bells to be wrung in celebration of the massacre of 30,000 protestants in Paris. On and on one could go, with stories of confusion, contradiction and corruption right up until the present day.
It’s hard to read history and still hold onto one’s ideas with conviction. How can I say “you must” do this or that when I’m aware of dozens of sharp thinking, clear headed believers who said “you needn’t” about those very same things?
I wonder how Henry VIII would have reacted to his daughter, Elizabeth’s, definite embrace of Protestantism several decades after his death or indeed how Martin Luther would react to news that leading Lutherans are becoming Roman Catholics in their droves? I also genuinely wonder where it all leads, and if anyone is steering the ship or indeed building the church?
Actually I know that Someone definitely is building his church, I only question whether or not I’m able to really determine what he’s doing.
For all of these musings the fact remains that I cannot live as though the gospels don’t exist and I cannot simply bury any talents I might have in the ground. For me that ship sailed long ago. I’m all in and I’m doing what I can to live as faithfully as I can. Jesus of Nazareth lived and said the things he did and I cannot pretend otherwise (nor would I want to). He was crucified on a Roman cross, he rose again on the third day and he calls the world to bow before him.
I may grieve the church’s confusing witness to him through the ages, its coalitions with political power and attempts to establish theocracies in Christ’s name. When I sit down and try to imagine the life and times of distant societies and cultures I really don’t know how things could ever have been other than thus. The world was turned upside down by the gospel and good men and women have always tried to take its conclusions to their logical ends. I can’t make sense of it, I can’t claim I would have done anything differently had I been in their shoes and I can’t say I know how Christ will ever be able to draw all of these disparate threads together.
And yet I still have to decide what I’ll do with the words I read!
If man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from God, I must eat! As I open the Bible and read its words I find that I am (in the infamous words in Notting Hill) just a man, standing in front of a text, asking it to reveal itself to me!
For this reason I find that two tools are especially helpful. One has to do with how tightly I hold onto ideas, the other with how I hope to arrive at accuracy in interpretation.
Hold On Tight: Blood, Pen, Pencil
In trying to establish what aspects of Christian theology matter most of all I find the idea that some things are ‘written in blood’ others in ‘pen’ and still others in ‘pencil’ to be especially helpful. It’s a variant of the idea of having a closed hand (with non-contestable beliefs in) and an ‘open hand’ (with more debatable beliefs in).
The issues written in ‘blood’ are those things laid out in the historic creeds of the united church. There were occasions in history when leaders from all over the Christian world conveyed to discuss things being contested in the church. They aimed to discern the mind of the Spirit and found clarity on core issues of the faith. Following the schism of the church in the 900s AD never again has the entire church gathered in quite the same way since. What this means is that what the Spirit revealed to those churches is of paramount importance. If we’re going to draw in fixed lines it should be around those issues most of all. These are the essentials of Christian faith.
As an addition to the above I think we should also be open to acknowledging the ruling of the seventh and final ecumenical council of the church, the ruling over icons. I’m not in favour of using icons in worship but, given the council’s decision, I’m open to the fact that I should perhaps reserve judgement on the issues. A subject of a future blog.
After ‘blood’ comes ‘pen’. These are the ideas and beliefs that I hold with a firm conviction and am unlikely to moved on, but which I acknowledge Christians are divided on. This is the area of my thought that I spend most of my time considering and deciding which issues are ‘pen’ or ‘pencil’ is a matter for what Gavin Ortlund has called ‘theological triage’.
The goal of running ideas through this matrix is to hopefully arrive at a healthy perspective over what matters most of all, to know which hills are worth ‘dying’ on. Having said that, very rarely are we needed to stake our selves and our ministries on ‘blood’ issues. The real dilemma of the truth seeking Christian comes in the form of knowing what to do with our ‘pens’. And some things that don’t fit in the blood category certainly don’t feel like pen issues either. Can we really just say about everything other than the creeds ‘we must agree to disagree’?
Revealing Meaning: Jerusalem and Beyond
Given the power of culture to form us perhaps one of the most challenging aspects of reading the Bible is avoiding cultural biases and being confident what particular Bible passages and Christian practises mean. To help us I believe that thinking in concentric circles can help us.
When I read a passage of scripture that puzzles me or when I consider a topic of theology over which there’s confusion or contention perhaps an approach similar to the mission model of Acts 1 can help: “you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and to the Ends of the Earth.”
Ground Zero is Jerusalem, home. Here individual Christians read the Bible, think about God and try to make sense of his will for their lives. Doing theology in ‘Jerusalem’ means reading a text and enquiring of the elders and theologically literate in my church what it means. For many of us and for most issues of interpretation and application this will likely be enough.
Learning to submit to God appointed authority is something that brings us peace and saves us from the pressure to become experts in everything. Just as I don’t fret over how to drive a train but submit to the driver, so I can submit with a clear conscience to the elders in my church. They may be wrong but, in a very real and healthy sense, their error won’t be ‘on me’ but them. God is a god of order and appoints teachers and elders in the church to bear theological responsibility. Just as 1 Peter tells me injustice suffered for submission to an ungodly state is a beautiful thing so we can confidently leave the results of our submission to God. Even in less extreme cases, when the people we submit to inevitably make mistakes we needn’t fret. The mitigation against abuse is the biblical character requirements for church elders and the plurality of eldership teams prescribed in the New Testament. When those things are upheld, submission liberates.
The next circle in our system is Judea. Judea is associated with ‘our people’, these are recognised teachers from within our tradition whatever it may be. At this point I turn to scholars, to books, to studies and to received authorities from outside my local church. Recognising and receiving the intellectual gifts of the church is an important and healthy part of preventing anti-intellectualism as well as wonky local elderships.
After this we come to Samaria, what we might equate with teachers and traditions outside our own. This could be either theologians beyond your denomination or part of the church or perhaps even those gone before in history past. If the part of the church I’m in is reading a text or thinking about a subject in a way that very few people have done in history then I ought to require strong reasons for disagreeing with them. This is especially helpful for exposing the blind spots of my particular movement or culture. The Orthodox Church isn’t likely to capitulate on modern whims and the church fathers were close enough to the first apostles that their practises and beliefs should be listened to. Martin Luther is known to have summed up his theological system as being ‘The Bible and Augustine.’ Samaria.
Lastly in this formulation we consider the ends of the earth. What I mean in this section is the value that the global church has for thinking well about contended and contentious subjects in theology. We ought to be concerned about avoiding imperialism on the one hand and being colonised by our culture on the other.
This is something that perhaps those of us in the Global North need to hear particularly. Christianity, despite what people might think, is now predominantly a religion of the Global South. As an example of this consider the fact that In 1900 the population of Africa was 10 million, of whom 9% were Christian. In 2005 its population was 400 million of whom 46% were Christian!
Alister McGrath follows this observation up by pointing out what are important distinctions about the Christianity of the majority world. It tends to be more charismatic, maintains traditional moral values and has little time for modernist readings of the Bible that exclude the supernatural. The result, McGrath says, is that denominations in the Global South have more in common with each other than with American/western churches of the same denomination.
____
Those are two methods for how I ‘do’ theology. In the first I do triage to discern how central an idea is, whereas in the second I aim to think carefully about interpretation.
I feel strongly about a lot of things that Christians disagree over, but as much as I think those things are important they’re rarely of foundational importance. If I’m going to die on a hill, let it be for the things that all Christians have held in common.
When we disagree over secondary things there are things we can do to ensure we tread as carefully, and as humbly, as possible.
It’s also how I resist further inroads of nihilistic postmodernity creeping into the church!