Theological networking

The current controversy over eternal submission of the Son raises the issue of how different branches of theology are interrelated. For instance, critics of eternal submission make historical theology the standard of comparison (e.g. creeds, confessions, tradition). 

There are different branches of theology. For purposes of this post, I'll discuss the interrelationship between exegetical theology, historical theology, systematic theology, and philosophical theology. 

1. Exegetical theology

Since Christianity is a revealed religion, revealed truths, revealed propositions, lay the foundation. By the same token, exegetical theology is the starting-point. It attempts to ascertain the meaning of primary source material from which Christian theology derives. When successful, exegetical theology enjoys priority or ultimacy. In principle, if there's a conflict between exegetical theology and historical, philosophical, or systematic theology, exegetical theology trumps the others. In practice, it isn't quite that clear-cut.

2. Systematic theology

Some exegetes make a virtue of compartmentalized interpretations. They deliberately isolate their interpretations of a given Bible writer from the Bible in general. If, however, the Bible is inspired, then exegesis should aim for interpretations that are consistent with the overall theology of Scripture. Interpret the part in relation to the whole. 

Systematic theology considers the implicit as well as explicit teaching of Scripture. The logical implications of Biblical propositions, both individually and in their relation to other propositions. And with harmonizing the various propositions of Scripture. To some degree, that's something an exegete must consider on a smaller scale when expounding the "theology of Paul", the "theology of John", the "theology of Hebrews", and so on.

3. Historical theology

Ideally, historical theology codifies received interpretations of Scripture that are true interpretations of Scripture. After exegetical theology has done its job, historical theology codifies the conclusions. 

There are situations in which creeds and confessions can be treated as settled doctrine. But from a Protestant perspective, that can't be absolute. For one thing, you have a diversity of theological traditions. They can't all be right. So sifting is necessary.

Even if a creedal statement is true, there are still situations in which it's necessary to scrutinize the claim. Although the Christian faith is true, the Christian faith is new to each new generation. Whether you grew up in the church or were unchurched, it is necessary for you to ascertain the truth of Christianity. So at that stage of the process you are treating these truth-claims as open questions. Even if a theological tradition got it right, assent should be more than an accident of birth or coin flip. Creeds and confessions must be intellectually defensible. 

That doesn't mean every generation must start from scratch. Theological traditions represent large-scale interpretations of Scripture. That gives the younger generation some preexisting options to consider. We don't have to reinvent the questions and answers. It is, however, still incumbent on us to assess the received answers.

Moreover, tradition may condition us to only ask traditional questions. But sometimes we need to reexamine old issues from a fresh perspective. Otherwise, we may be stuck in a theological rut. The way an issue is framed can prejudge the answers and artificially exclude a larger range of potential answers. But sometimes we need to think outside the box rather than filtering the discussion through a venerable paradigm. 

4. Philosophical theology

There's more to Christian theology than just quoting Scripture. It is necessary to understand what Scripture means. The ability to explain Scriptural propositions in your own words. Define terms. The ability to expound and summarize revealed concepts. Philosophical theology can help to articulate the meaning of Scripture by providing vocabulary and categories. 

Exegetes sometimes commit logical fallacies because they lack philosophical training. Exegetes sometimes overlook alternative explanations because they lack conceptual resources. In that respect, philosophical theology can supplement exegetical theology.

Then there's the whole issue of hermeneutics. What is the task of the exegete? 

Where is the locus of meaning? Original intent? Should an exegete focus on the original audience or the history of reception? What is the intended audience? Is that the original audience? Or is that the community of faith? Then there's the sense/reference distinction.

These are philosophical questions. In that respect, philosophical theology can supplement exegetical theology. 

Philosophical theology can also play a role in defending divine revelation. Likewise, philosophical theology supplies historical and systematic theology with models and metaphors. Traditionally, historical theology borrows distinctions and categories from Platonic and Aristotelian philosophy. But there's no reason that can't be updated by recourse to more recent philosophical developments.

How Biblical is Molinism? (Part 2)

http://www.proginosko.com/2015/11/how-biblical-is-molinism-part-2/

Learning analytic philosophy

"Learning Analytic Philosophy" by Prof. James Anderson.

Roundtable discussion on analytic theology

Crispianity

I’m going to comment on parts of an interview that’s getting some buzz:

http://exiledpreacher.blogspot.com/2010/05/interview-with-oliver-crisp.html

Crisp gives a number of good answers. I’m not going to comment on what I agree with, since that would be redundant. I’d just be paraphrasing what he said. And he can express himself quite well without me.

Theology that is not done in the service of the Church is seriously defective, in my view. Although I work in a so-called 'secular' university, I am very conscious of the need to address the Church in what I do. I hope that in some small way my own work may be of use to the Church through the trickle-down effect of students of theology and prospective ministerial candidates getting trained in theology and reading the sort of stuff I write. I have taught in both secular and confessional contexts in the UK and North America, and I think effective theological education is of vital importance for the life of the Church. If we want an educated and effective laity, we need an effective and educated clergy to teach them.

I largely agree with this, although I’d add two caveats:

i) I’d actually broaden the vision. I think theology should be done in the service of unbelievers as well as believers. It should have an evangelistic, outward thrust as well as an ecclesiastical, inward thrust.

ii) In principle, theological insights can have practical value even if the theologian wasn’t consciously practical, but just pursuing a line of thought. It’s like spin-offs in math and science, where pure math or scientific speculation is developed without any practical application in view, but the results have an unforeseen practical payoff. Sometimes we can solve a problem better by looking away from it. Because all of reality is interrelated, solutions may not occur to us if we’re too focused on the problem before us, whereas work in apparently independent fields can pay unexpected dividends.

No, I don't. The creedal heritage of the Church is very important. We cast it aside at our peril.

There’s some truth to that. In particular, we shouldn’t clean out the attic and discard the contents without even looking inside the boxes to see what we’re casting aside.

On the other hand, there’s the opposite peril of following the path of least resistance by letting others make all the important decisions for us.

Some evangelicals are very much embedded in the tradition (e.g. some Episcopalians or Lutherans or Presbyterians).

i) And that can be a problem. That can foster an unquestioning, chauvinistic herd-mentality. Let’s not confuse following Christ with following our forbears. Unless we can see Jesus apart from our forebears, we don’t know if they were headed in the right direction.

ii) Different theological traditions present different reading strategies. You can read the Bible with Lutheran spectacles, Anabaptist spectacles, Catholic spectacles, Calvinist spectacles, and so forth. Although we may always be reading the Bible with tinted glasses, it’s useful to try on different glasses, comparing and contrasting one view with another.

 But evangelicals in what we might loosely term 'non-confessional' traditions, such as some baptistic denominations, and charismatic/Pentecostal traditions tend to be less concerned about confessions, thinking they can simply leap over the tradition to Scripture. This is a mistake.

i) As a matter of fact, it is possible to “simply leap over the tradition to Scripture.” That’s the point of the grammatico-historical method.

And this isn’t limited to the exegesis of Scripture. When Crisp studies Jonathan Edwards, I assume he tries to immerse himself in the social and intellectual milieu of Edwards. Likewise, when Crisp studies Barth, I assume he makes allowance for the historical and political situatedness of Barth’s theology.

For that matter, when we read Homer, Dante, or Lady Murasaki, the point is to escape our own cultural mindset and step inside a very different culture. To see the world through a different pair of eyes.

Of course, initially, we bring our own framework to whatever we read. But in the course of reading, it’s possible to put some distance between our hereditary viewpoint and the viewpoint of the narrator. That’s a useful exercise. That provides a valuable contrast to our prereflective assumptions.

ii) In fairness to Crisp, I suspect he has a particular type of individual in mind. The kind of “Bible-only” Christian who’s oblivious to the impact of his own nationality, education, social class, and religious prism on his reading of Scripture. A Christian who’s unconscious of the degree to which his approach to Scripture has already been framed by a tacit, internalized tradition.

It’s important to become self-aware of our operating assumptions. Both confessionalism and “Biblicism” are vulnerable to the bias blind spot.

 We read Scripture in the household of faith, in company with the saints before us, not in isolation from them. And in so doing, we learn from our forebears (from their triumphs and their mistakes). It is folly and hubris to think one can set this great cloud of witnesses to one side in theologizing. Not that I think the fathers and Reformers of the Church trump Scripture. But they help us to understand Scripture better just as a teacher helps the student to understand matters that might be difficult to grasp were the student to be left alone with the class textbook.

Up to a point that’s true, but one-sided.  The household of faith includes the faithful who went before us, as well as those who come after us, as well as those who walk beside us. We can learn from them, but they can learn from us.

At the end of the day, we’re not answerable to our forbears. Rather, we are directly answerable to God.

Because he is a theological titan. I am a critical, but I hope appreciative, reader of Barth. In some ways, I am more sympathetic to Barth than I used to be, though it is sometimes a sort of love-hate relationship! But Barth is a profound theologian by anyone's estimate, and someone worth wrestling with. One is unlikely to find any theologian with whom one concurs on every point of doctrine. Yet great theologians like Augustine or Anselm or Thomas or Calvin or Luther or Edwards or Barth are the sort of thinkers with whom we can engage with fruitful results.

It is very difficult to isolate one voice from the great chorus of those who have gone before us as THE person I would like to meet if I had the chance. But in my top five (and in reverse diachronic order) would be Jonathan Edwards, John Calvin, Thomas Aquinas, Anselm of Canterbury, Augustine of Hippo.

To judge by this answer, Crisp’s methodology isn’t really confessional. He isn’t using the lens of the church’s creedal heritage. Rather, he has a theological meritocracy. A short list of the most intellectually impressive or challenging theologians. He picks out these thinkers to be his sparring partners. He tests his theology against them. Develops his theology in a dialectical conversation with the theological giants. That’s selective rather than collective.

Robin Parry in his book Worshipping Trinity makes this point really well when he says that too many evangelical Christians he speaks to are effectively binitarians, not Trinitarians. Their understanding of the Trinity is borderline heretical.

It’s funny to see a heretical universalist be so judgmental. But I guess the best defense is a good offense.

Theology in service of the church

Paul Manata recently pulled up this several-years-old interview with Oliver Crisp, who recently taught philosophical theology at the University of Bristol in the UK and now is at Fuller Theological Seminary. I think this is a good overview of how I see my own interests developing:

Q: What made you want to be a theologian?

A: Encountering Jesus.


Q: How do you see the relationship between your work in academic theology and the Church's task of proclaiming the gospel?

A: Theology that is not done in the service of the Church is seriously defective, in my view. Although I work in a so-called 'secular' university, I am very conscious of the need to address the Church in what I do. I hope that in some small way my own work may be of use to the Church through the trickle-down effect of students of theology and prospective ministerial candidates getting trained in theology and reading the sort of stuff I write. I have taught in both secular and confessional contexts in the UK and North America, and I think effective theological education is of vital importance for the life of the Church. If we want an educated and effective laity, we need an effective and educated clergy to teach them.


Q: In some respects is analytic theology a retrieval of the methods of medieval scholasticism and Reformed Orthodoxy?

A: Yes, you might think of it in that way. As I have already indicated, I think it is in keeping with much of this tradition of theology. I hope it is a legitimate successor to a scholastic or Reformed Orthodox approach. It seems to me that both the medievals and the Reformed (and Lutheran) orthodox have much to teach us today. There is a theological richness in their work that we have lost. Theirs is also an unapologetically dogmatic approach - what John Webster has recently called 'theological theology'. That is the sort of theology I am interested in. I am not concerned with paddling in the shallows of theology, spending all my time in methodological or apologetic matters. I am not terribly concerned with questions about whether we can do theology or not. I am interested in getting on with the job of doing theology in the service of the Church.


Q: How would you configure the relationship between Holy Scripture and the traditions of the Church?

A: I've recently dealt with this in detail in the first chapter of my book, God Incarnate. I think that Scripture is the norming norm, the bedrock of all Christian theology. The 'tradition' consists in a cluster of different, subordinate norms, such as the catholic creeds, confessional statements (e.g. the Westminster Confession) and the works of particular theologians. But these are all subordinate to the Word of God.


Q: I have sometimes heard Evangelical preachers say that Jesus became a human person at the incarnation. Do you think that Evangelicals are sufficiently aware of the creedal heritage of the Church?

A: No, I don't. The creedal heritage of the Church is very important. We cast it aside at our peril. Some evangelicals are very much embedded in the tradition (e.g. some Episcopalians or Lutherans or Presbyterians). But evangelicals in what we might loosely term 'non-confessional' traditions, … tend to be less concerned about confessions, thinking they can simply leap over the tradition to Scripture. This is a mistake. We read Scripture in the household of faith, in company with the saints before us, not in isolation from them. And in so doing, we learn from our forebears (from their triumphs and their mistakes). It is folly and hubris to think one can set this great cloud of witnesses to one side in theologizing. Not that I think the fathers and Reformers of the Church trump Scripture. But they help us to understand Scripture better just as a teacher helps the student to understand matters that might be difficult to grasp were the student to be left alone with the class textbook.

[Edited 9:26 am to update Crisp's experience to Fuller.]