(Ir)religiosity

“Emergent is dead” and emergent “break-up” posts seem to be in vogue lately.  The latest round have to do with the release of Brian McLaren’s new book, A New Kind of Christianity.  In the eyes of some he’s gone way too far; for others he is finally clarifying his own positions.  I tend to fall in the latter category.  I am still a few chapters shy of finishing, but it seems to me that this book is the next logical step in the evolution of Brian’s work over time.  In other words, ten years later he is putting more substance to the wild ride he started with A New Kind of Christian.  And the result is the most cohesive and the “best ordered presentation to date of emergent theology.” That last statement has, quite frankly, pissed some people off because Brian hasn’t conformed to their expectations or notions of “orthodoxy”¹ (although I think the subtext to some of the more vitriolic reactions has to do with some built up disdain over the trajectory of the conversation for the past several years) .  Hence the eulogies and dear John letters. The problem, though, is that people had fixed expectations.  This isn’t that type of conversation.  I’m of the opinion that emergence isn’t dead, rather it is evolving and maturing.

Among the more charitable critiques are those offered by Jeremy Bouma who, along with bidding emergent goodbye, is submitting some of the thought to some much needed, though perhaps misguided, thoroughgoing theological critique.  I raised some issues on a few threads that I think are worth exploring here a bit more.

Bouma’s main issue that is that the trajectory of emergent in the past several years (he cites Doug Pagitt, Peter Rollins, and McLaren among others) has departed from “historic orthodox Christianity,” a monolith to be determined by “the rule of the faith.”  In other words, emergent fails the litmus test.  The real question, though, is what is this rule of the faith and who gets to be the arbiter of orthodoxy?  Here Bouma cites both the Nicene and Apostle’s Creed (which, for the purposes of this post, I have no qualms with) alongside his own constructive theological interpretation of them.  This is where we run into problems. Read the rest of this entry »

1. I’m not one to suggest issuing moratoriums on buzzwords, but if I were this word (along with maybe “biblical,” “scriptural” and “heretical”) would be one of them.  It has lost virtually all of its meaning and is only used as a rhetorical trump-card [↩]

Chapter One:  Things Have Changed, or “Toto, We’re Not in Kansas Anymore”

In part one, Clayton comments a bit more on his introductory claims that the theological enterprise is in a crisis of language and content.  Chapter one tells the familiar but sobering story of the changing face of American religion — read the crumbling of Christendom — in the twentieth century.  Fifty or so years ago was, in Clayton’s words, “the Golden Age for the American Church” where “church social events stood at the center of [one's] social” and religious identity and was tantamount to one’s classification in larger society (12).  In other words, being Christian was the ultimate signifier of ‘being a good American.’

Of course, that began to fracture in the 60s and 70s as American culture began to radically change and disseminate into many different directions. No longer was there a single religious option which comprised one’s whole identity, now there was a smorgasbord of various options. Nevertheless, as Clayton claims, “all these options were options in organized religion” (13).

Today, standing at the cusp of a new century we see this cultural fragmentation and religious dissemination writ large. And the mainline decline that began in the 60s is reaching a disturbing rate for those interested in business as normal in the church.  Clayton cites a recent Pew Poll from just last year to draw attention to the ever-increasing number of the “religiously unaffiliated” and the shift from mainline Protestant dominance in the middle of the last century, to our current situation of widespread religious fragmentation.  Whereas the options 30-40 years ago were will situated within the confines of organized religion, the options today have literally “exploded” in our faces.  The free-market of religious ideas is alive and well.

All this presents an important and pressing problem for the church, a true crisis of identity.  Further, this explosion of religious variety is only the beginning and as far as Clayton is concerned technology will be the decisive factor in the future.  As he states toward the end of the chapter, “what it means to be the church today, and what it will mean over the coming two to three decades, is affected just as strongly by the explosion of new technologies and the radically new forms of social networking that they create” (15).  Indeed, the flattening of reality and the radical democratization of information that comes with technology is a direct challenge not only to the old forms of “doing church” (practitioners)  but the old forms of “doing theology” (academics) as well.  And if those forms are in decline now, the will be completely obsolete in the future.  As the decline of traditional denominations suggests, people simply aren’t interested in participating in forms of church rooted in a world that no longer exists.   As Clayton concludes:

No wonder people feel a little strange participating in a social arrangement called the “local congregation,” a structure designed for the world of the eighteenth century, before there were cars or even light bulbs! (15)

The good news, at least in my mind, is the Christianity — specifically the kingdom of God –  has always been flexible and adaptable to new cultural changes, in fact that may be intrinsic to its character.  The problem is that too often the church is reluctant and hesitant to do so.  Nevertheless, there are new forms taking shape and I believe that if we begin to provide persons with the tools to come up with new, creative ways of doing church and fresh, imaginative theological language that goes places we haven’t been before, then we will find those pockets of reality in which the kingdom is thriving in the future.

Be sure to check out these other theo-bloggers!

Joseph Weethee , Jonathan Bartlett, The Church Geek, Jacob’s Cafe, Reverend Mommy, Steve Knight, Todd Littleton, Christina Accornero, John David Ryan, LeAnn Gunter Johns, Chase Andre, Matt Moorman, Gideon Addington, Ryan Dueck, Rachel Marszalek, Amy Moffitt, Josh Wallace, Jonathan Dodson, Stephen Barkley, Monty Galloway, Colin McEnroe, Tad DeLay, David Mullens, Kimberly Roth, Tripp Hudgins, Tripp Fuller, Greg Horton, Andrew Tatum, Drew Tatusko, Sam Andress, Susan Barnes, Jared Enyart, Jake Bouma, Eliacin Rosario-Cruz, Blake Huggins, Lance Green, Scott Lenger, Dan Rose, Thomas Turner, Les Chatwin, Joseph Carson, Brian Brandsmeier, J. D. Allen, Greg Bolt, Tim Snyder, Matthew L. Kelley, Carl McLendon, Carter McNeese, David R. Gillespie, Arthur Stewart, Tim Thompson, Joe Bumbulis, Bob Cornwall

This Tour is Sponsored by Transforming Theology DOT org!

Introduction:  Getting Clear on What You (Really) Believe

Philip Clayton, director of the Transforming Theology Project and professor of theology at Claremont School of Theology, and collaborator Tripp Fuller — of Homebrewed Christianity fame — open their new book Transforming Christian Theology with some pretty bold claims.

Theology is in crisis.  Well, not theology per se, but the ways in which we theologize are inadequate and lacking.  To this end, Clayton observes that “many Christians no longer know how to talk about their faith” (1) because they simple do not not what it is they believe theologically.

Clayton believe this is a paralyzing problem that is rooted in the they ways theology is presenting, taught, and formulated.  Academic theologians seem more interesting in attending conferences, commenting on one another’s papers, and reading their books — in other words, doing an unhealthy amount of navel-gazing — than they are in dialoging with churches and faith collectives, where the theological rubber meets the road of the world.  In Clayton’s accounting, “academic theology by itself [isn't] enough to carry the future of the church” and isn’t going to “help us rethink what ‘church’ means in this radically new world” (3).  Put another way, theology needs to be liberated from being consigned to the ivory towers alone if it stands a chance in democratizing and flattening age of Google and social networking¹  Or, to be even more radical: professional theologians need to stop talking about theology and start doing theology (and listening to those who have been doing theology all along).

Following John Cobb’s thinking in Reclaiming the Church, Clayton maintains that the problem — the reason why we have such a huge gap between the church and the academy at present — is the professionalization of theology, a gesture which has led those in the pews to believe that the responsibility of Christian thought lies with the seminary professors, while those in the ivory towers have allowed theology to evolve into just one more academic discipline among the rest — another science, in other words.  The deeper problem, of course, is that our pastors and minister go to seminary and learn how to do theology from these ‘professionals.’  So we find ourselves in the midst of a self-perpetuating circle.  And the result — or at least one of the results — is the decline of mainline Protestantism.  Clearly, the status quo is not working.

This has to change.  And, as an academic theologian, Clayton believes he and others have a responsibility to change the face of public theological discourse.  This had led to him to change his method of teaching and — this is what surprised me most — led him to the realization that he “can no longer publish books that are written primarily for specialists.”  Indeed, Clayton states that this book marks a new era for him, of writing for a broader audience. And his hope is that other academics will follow suit.

The aim of the bulk of the book, then, is to articulate a way for practitioners to theologize that is not wholly academic and yet not “dogmatic, divisive, or relativistic” (7).  This, Clayton believes, will radically reshape not only theology as a discourse, but the shape of the church itself.

As I mentioned before, that an academic theologian is taking up such a task is exciting and refreshing to me.  This is precisely what we need:  academics rolling up their sleeves and jumping into the trenches with the rest of  us.  Yet, I still find myself questioning (and I hope this will be answered as I move through the book) whether complete resignation from academic discourse will be all that helpful.  Let me be clear:  I am not arguing for the status quo.  We clearly have a problem.  And maybe I am taking Clayton’s statements too far here, but I tend to think that theoretical theology is important and indeed vital for the larger enterprise.  To be sure, I do think there needs to be a more porous relationship between church and academy, between theory and practice.  As one who is intending to be working in both the academy and the church and tends to be more theoretically minded I think we still need great thinkers like Clayton to produce high-octane academic works but with the intention of those works being translated into the vernacular of particular faith collectives and not for the sake of garnering some intellectual brownie points from academic peers.  If that is what Clayton means when he says he will be changing the way he writes, then I am all for it.  I just wonder if we actually need more pop-theology books out there.  I’m not saying that is what Clayton’s future work would amount to, it just seems that he is in a particularly important place with gifts for a certain area that is vital — though in much need of revitalization — for the church.

Thoughts?

Be sure to check out these other theo-bloggers!

Joseph Weethee , Jonathan Bartlett, The Church Geek, Jacob’s Cafe, Reverend Mommy, Steve Knight, Todd Littleton, Christina Accornero, John David Ryan, LeAnn Gunter Johns, Chase Andre, Matt Moorman, Gideon Addington, Ryan Dueck, Rachel Marszalek, Amy Moffitt, Josh Wallace, Jonathan Dodson, Stephen Barkley, Monty Galloway, Colin McEnroe, Tad DeLay, David Mullens, Kimberly Roth, Tripp Hudgins, Tripp Fuller, Greg Horton, Andrew Tatum, Drew Tatusko, Sam Andress, Susan Barnes, Jared Enyart, Jake Bouma, Eliacin Rosario-Cruz, Blake Huggins, Lance Green, Scott Lenger, Dan Rose, Thomas Turner, Les Chatwin, Joseph Carson, Brian Brandsmeier, J. D. Allen, Greg Bolt, Tim Snyder, Matthew L. Kelley, Carl McLendon, Carter McNeese, David R. Gillespie, Arthur Stewart, Tim Thompson, Joe Bumbulis, Bob Cornwall

This Tour is Sponsored by Transforming Theology DOT org!

1. Clayton actually practices what he preaches in this respect.  He blogs from time to time and not only responds to commenters but reads other bloggers as well.  Imagine that!  An academic actually engaging with the real world! [↩]

Philip Clayton and Harvey Cox both have new books out and they are taking them out on tour. One of the blog tour stops will be here, but as you can see below they will be making their rounds over the next month until they wrap things up in Montreal at the American Academy of Religion’s annual meeting. There they will be joined by an illustrious panel including Eric Gregory, Bruce Sanguin, Serene Jones, Frank Tupper, and Andrew Sung Park to share a ‘Big Idea’ for the future of the Church. These ‘Big Ideas’ will be video tapped and shared, so be on the look out for live footage from the last night of the tour.

Philip’s new book is Transforming Christian Theology for Church & Society and Harvey’s is The Future of Faith. Both are worth checking out at one of the many tour stops. If you can’t wait you can listen to them interview each other.

Joseph Weethee , Jonathan Bartlett, The Church Geek, Jacob’s Cafe, Reverend Mommy, Steve Knight, Todd Littleton, Christina Accornero, John David Ryan, LeAnn Gunter Johns, Chase Andre, Matt Moorman, Gideon Addington, Ryan Dueck, Rachel Marszalek, Amy Moffitt, Josh Wallace, Jonathan Dodson, Stephen Barkley, Monty Galloway, Colin McEnroe, Tad DeLay, David Mullens, Kimberly Roth, Tripp Hudgins, Tripp Fuller, Greg Horton, Andrew Tatum, Drew Tatusko, Sam Andress, Susan Barnes, Jared Enyart, Jake Bouma, Eliacin Rosario-Cruz, Blake Huggins, Lance Green, Scott Lenger, Dan Rose, Thomas Turner, Les Chatwin, Joseph Carson, Brian Brandsmeier, J. D. Allen, Greg Bolt, Tim Snyder, Matthew L. Kelley, Carl McLendon, Carter McNeese, David R. Gillespie, Arthur Stewart, Tim Thompson, Joe Bumbulis, Bob Cornwall

This Tour is Sponsored by Transforming Theology DOT org!

I’ll be honest, I was a little disappointed with the book.  That’s not to say it is not without merit, it does several things very well and I’ll get to those in a minute.  But as an avowed Howard Zinn fan I thought the book failed to deliver.  That’s probably the fault of my own expectation combined with the way the book was marketed; however,  Diana Butler Bass points out in the introduction that she hopes to do with Christian history what Zinn did with American history.  Given the size of the book she all but sets herself up for failure.  Again, that is not to say the book itself is not noteworthy.  I just think it might be better served with the Zinn comparisons and with a different title.

But what it is about anyway?

For DBB there are basically two kinds of Christianity:  there is “Big-C Christianity,” which is the story we are all familiar with.  It’s trajectory runs thus: Christ, Constantine, Christendom, Calvin, Christian America.  If you’ve ever taken a church history class, odds are that is the way the story has run.  It’s a story of power, militant coercion and victory.  Counter to that is another type of Christianity, what DBB calls “generative Christianity” or “Great Command Christianity.”  This version of the story is one that is always guided by Jesus’s axiom of loving God and neighbor — contrary to the other story, this is the true essence of Christianity.   While the Big-C story may be dominant and pervasive in church history textbooks, DBB makes the convincing case that the story of generative Christianity has always been around carrying forward the true Christian legacy.  Her intention in the book is to tell that version of the story and eschew the Big-C story. Read the rest of this entry »

While I was away last week I received a copy of Diana Butler Bass’s new book, A People’s History of Christianity: The Other Side of the Story. I about a third of the way of the way through it now and I’m enjoying it so far. This is my first Butler Bass book and without going into a lot of detail (I’m hoping to write several posts pertaining to the content) I’ll just say that I really like that fact that this book is written for a popular audience. Unfortunately, many church history books just aren’t written at that level and probably aren’t enticing to anyone outside the academy. So I applaud that. I’m also really interested in the idea of writing a church history in the style of Howard Zinn (one of my favorite historians and activists), which is what she aims to do given the title.

About her Zinnian method Butler Bass writes:

Eschewing historical orthodoxy, [Zinn] confessed, “I had no illusions about ‘objectivity,’ if that meant avoiding a point of view. I knew that a historian was forced to choose, out of an infinite number of facts, what to present, what to omit.” This book has much the same purpose from a Christian point of view. [...] Like Zinn, I sidestep issues of orthodoxy and instead focus on moments when Christian people really acted like Christians, when they took seriously the call of Jesus to love God and love their neighbors as themselves. (page 14)

I like it. Because all history, like all reading, is always an interpretation. There is no objective, neutral, unbiased or untainted account of “the way things really were.” There just isn’t. Too many histories are written in such a way. I’m glad that Butler Bass admits that up front and I’m excited that she is attempting to tell a side of the story that jettisons the hegemony of historical “orthodoxy” and opts for the story of those on the underbelly of power.

Over the next week or so I will post more of my thoughts on the book. In the meantime, below is a video interview with Diana and Spencer Burke from TheOoze.tv.

I was inspired to revist some of Zizek’s work last week.  I ran across this passage in The Puppet and the Dwarf on epistemology.

The site of truth is not the way “things really are in themselves,” beyond their perspectival distortions, but the very gap, passage, that separates one perspective from another, the gap (in this case social antagonism) that makes the two perspectives radically incommensurable. The “Real as impossible” is the cause of the impossibility of ever attaining the “neutral” nonperspectival view of the object. There is a truth; everything is not relative—but this truth is the truth of the perspectival distortion as such, not the truth distorted by the partial view from a one-sided perspective. So when Nietzsche affirms that truth is a perspective, this assertion is to be read together with Lenin’s notion of the partisan/partial character of knowledge (the (in)famous partij’nost): in a class society, “true” objective knowledge is possible only from the “interested” revolutionary standpoint. This means neither an epistemologically “naive” reliance on the “objective knowledge” available when we get rid of our partial prejudices and preconceptions, and adopt a “neutral” view, nor the (complementary) relativist view that there is no ultimate truth, only multiple subjective perspectives. Both terms have to be fully asserted: there is, among the multitude of opinions, a true knowledge, and this knowledge is accessible only from an “interested” partial position.”

I gotta say, that makes a lot of sense to me.  Then we can only talk about better and worse “interested, partial positions” and never The Complete Position.

What would really interest me now is juxtaposing this with Caputo’s notion of truth as a happening or a event, a facere veritatem in his words.  Both positions seem to avoid the sinkholes of both objectivity and complete nihilistic relativism to a place beyond truth as disembodied proposition and toward truth as particular way of being in the world — a way of transformation.

So Slavoj Žižek and John Milbank have made several public appearances/debates promoting their book The Monstrosity of Christ:  Paradox of Dialectic.  I missed the Boston date earlier this year and have been looking for some audio/video of the debate since then.  I finally found a good link.  Žižek and Milbank made an appearance at the ICA in London a few days ago (ht Peter Rollins) and someone managed to capture some audio Mariborchan (a wonderful new blog I discovered with some really great audio/video links of Žižek and others) recorded the entire event.   If you haven’t bought the book already and don’t particularly like shelling out cash for brand new hardbacks like me, then you might be interesting in this.

Here’s an interesting quote from the Žižekian perspective from Kester Brewin:

The radical kernel that is left at this death, which Zizek sees as the death of God – Father and Son, is the ‘Holy Ghost community.’ Our separation from God, our abandonment by God – in Job and in Christ’s death – means that we end up actually in the same place as God in Christ: ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ And, according to Zizek, those who are thus true Christians are those who have embraced this abandonment by God and gathered as the church, the ‘Holy Ghost community’ to live out the radical implications of that death… it is this human community that is the resurrection of God.

I haven’t been able to listen to much of the audio yet, but Kester’s take on it really makes me want to listen…and then jump into the book.

To finish off my United Methodist History/Doctrine course last semester the entire class particpated in a “semester conference.  As students we were required to offer a few things we would change about the church (theology, polity, etc.) and a few things we’d like to see retained and passed on to the next generation.  I won’t mention my “changes” because frankly those took up too much of my floor time and I feel like a could write a book about them.  And I tend to be deconstructive by nature, which means it is good for me to talk about what I am for from time to time.

I mentioned two things that I felt should be kept in the Methodist tradition, two things I think have been abandoned for the sake of institutionalization and bureaucracy and two things that I believe lie at the heart of John Wesley’s legacy:  Christian perfection and the General Rules.  Christian perfection seemed to get a lot of airtime that day so I chose to talk primarily about the General Rules which are 1) to do no harm, 2) to do all the good possible, and 3) to attend to all the ordinances of God (prayer, corporate worship, Eucharist, etc.).  Sadly, most Methodists haven’t the faintest idea of what these are and have probably never heard of them.  Which is unfortunate because I think they provide one of the best and most concise guides for following in the Way of Jesus.

So I was thrilled when I saw the title of Kevin Watson’s new book A Blue Print for Discipleship: Wesley’s General Rules as a Guide for Christian Living. Not only does Kevin share my admiration for the General Rules, he is also interested in discipleship, another area in which Wesley was a true innovator, and, unfortunately, an area where the UMC seems to be failing (at least in the US) given its recent decline.

Like any good Wesleyan, Kevin notes the primacy of grace in all stages of ones Christian life, the goal of which is to participate in the divine life for the sake and transformation of the world.  This divine grace permeates Kevin’s appropriation all three of the rules as well as his understanding of Wesley’s strategy for implementing them in practice, in community.  For Kevin, Wesley’s model, which he describes wonderfully in way that is very accessible, is the most effective way to empower persons to transition from “nominal Christians” to “deeply committed Christians” — those who live the radical way of Jesus in their own contexts and communities.  To me, this blueprint for discipleship, as Kevin calls it, is the real genius of Wesley’s legacy.  But unfortunately many Methodists and Wesleyans are unaware of that gift. Kevin’s work is a wonderful contribution toward the endeavor of recovering and reclaiming Wesley’s robust understanding of discipleship.

The real strength of the book is its attention toward Christian practice and affection for the local church.  Like I said, it is very accessible, short (just over 100 pages), complete with discussion questions at the end of each chapter and an appendix guide for small group study.  The book is full of helpful examples and anecdotes that situate the General Rules and Wesley’s ethos within the life of the church as well as Kevin’s own personal journey.  To that end, I think the book is an excellent resource for local churches that are seeking to revitalize or even implement for the first time, a serious discipleship program that takes seriously Wesley’s robust theological legacy.

Much ink has been spilled with the purpose of exploring Wesley’s theology.  And that’s wonderful.  But unfortunately, books like Kevin’s, books that explore the practical ramifications of Wesley’s blueprint for discipleship, are a rarity (in my estimation at least).  Folks tend to forget that that area was Wesley’s speciality.  It is my deep hope that his legacy can be recovered.   I think Kevin’s book represents and important and helpful effort to do so. An effort that indicates a robust understanding of Wesley’s theology at a theoretical level, but is very much rooted in the life of the local church as the most significant arena in which discipleship takes place.

Related articles by Zemanta

• A Blueprint for Discipleship [review] (hackingchristianity.net)

I ran across this quote during some reading the other night.  I think it describes quiet well the shift we are currently experiencing into a new reformation and emergence. It also raises some interesting questions about our willingness to remain open to perpetual change beyond what makes us comfortable.

“I am…suggesting considerations that may induce us to regard all Models in the right way, respecting all and idolizing none.  We are all, very properly, familiar with the idea the in every age the human mind is deeply influenced by the accepted Model of the universe.  But there is a two-way traffic, the Model is also influenced by the prevailing temper of mind.  We must recognize that what has been called “a taste in universes” is not only pardonable but inevitable.  We can no longer dismiss the change of Models as a simple progress from error to truth.  No Model is a catalogue of ultimate realities, and no one is a mere fantasy. Each is a serious attempt to get in all the phenomena known at a given period, and each succeeded in getting in a great many.  But also, no less surely, each reflects the prevalent psychology of an age almost a much as it reflect the state of that age’s knowledge.  Hardly any battery of new facts could have persuaded a Greek that the universe had an attribute so repugnant to him as infinity; hardly any such battery could persuade a modern that it is hierarchical.”

I love it.  We must always embrace the new Model as it is brought into existence.  Of course that is easy to do that ex post facto, and after the time of real rethinking and revolution has already taken place.  It’s harder and more painful during the extended time of transition, a time that I think we are living in right now, because it involves a resistance against the dominant mode of thinking, and the normal Model of viewing the world.

But it also raises another point and one that I think many of us who embrace the current shift should always remind ourselves of.  Our Model, be it postmodern, or emergent, or whatever, affects us more than we realize.  So here’s the thing — we need to remember that the Model itself is not the Truth, only one messenger of truth among many.  And when another messenger presents itself, we should be open to its proclamation.  I guess what I’m saying — and I feel like this has been coming out in a lot of my writing lately — is that we have to be chastened to a certain extent.  Even in our passion to deconstruct past Models and usher in the new, we have to retain a deep sense of epistemological humility lest we repeat the mistakes of the past.  Even if that means at some point disagreeing with and highlighting a divergence from that Model which we hold so dear.  That Model cannot be allowed to crust over into dogma or used to create stasis in our understanding.  In that sense we must always be emerging.

Because truth and the movement of the Spirit will always be bigger and more robust than our Models, even the most attractive and useful among them.

Back to the quote.  I think what surprised me the most about it was the author, someone who normally doesn’t write things in this vein whose writings I have always thought to be in a different vein, which undoubtedly reveals my own myopia.  Just goes to show that we you try to pigeon-hole someone they will more often than not surprise you.