The Delightful Terror of Reforming Theology

Good theology should be both disturbing and comforting. 

Here are a few paragraphs from chapter 1 of Reforming the Doctrine of God, where I summarize what I mean by the phrase "the delightful terror of reforming theology."

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"Theology involves the reformation of conceptual space, but it is important for us to begin by recognizing that this academic exercise should not – and in fact cannot – be divorced from the practical and liturgical space of Christian life.  As the 16th century Reformers saw so clearly, the calcification of particular formulations of doctrine can cripple the praxis and worship of the Christian community.  All dimensions of the church – its theological formulations as well as its ministry and doxology – are semper reformata et reformanda, called to reformation by the grace of God.

Martin Luther protested against the “babylonian captivity” of the church, but in the 21st century we are threatened with a different kind of bondage.  Much of our theological language is imprisoned by particular philosophical and scientific categories that constrict our proclamation of the Gospel of the biblical God. It is love for the Gospel that leads us to take up the task of reforming theology, to protest whenever and wherever it is being fettered.

However, the desire to love God with all of our minds (Mt. 22:37) is also accompanied by a trembling fascination with the absolutely uncontrollable presence of divine grace.  The intensification of fear and desire that accompanies the task of reforming theology ought not to surprise us. If the “fear of the Lord” is the beginning of knowledge and wisdom (Pr. 1:7, 10:9), we should acknowledge and embrace the existentially delightful terror of theology.

Many Christians resist the biblical call to fear God because it seems to contradict the call to love God.  How can we love that which we fear? If we define fear as our response to a perceived inability to control an existentially relevant object, then we can begin to see that fear and love are not mutually exclusive.  Even in the experience of human love, we find a dialectical relation between fascination and fear.  A true lover does not desire to control the beloved, but rejoices in the freedom of the beloved to respond to love.

The beloved is the beloved precisely as a delightfully uncontrollable existentially relevant object.  If controlled, the beloved ceases to be the object of love.  In this sense, “fear” is an essential element of love.  Part of the ecstasy of human intimacy is the trembling that occurs in the presence of the unmanipulable beloved.  True love does not eradicate the element of fear, but takes it up into itself, transforming it into delight in the other.  Human love of God includes the element of fear, but it is infinitely transformed in the joy of worship.

It is our fear or love of other things that keeps us from reforming theology.  We fear cognitive dissonance (or desire the safety of psychological inertia) and so we resist the reconstruction of cherished formulations of doctrine.  We desire the affirmation of those with ecclesial power (or fear their political retribution) and so we are tempted to maintain the theological status quo.

On the one hand, some are tempted to respond de-constructively to the challenges of contemporary culture, leaving behind the intuitions of the biblical tradition in order to engage in the postmodern play with the “other.”  The danger here is the dissolution of Christian faith. At the other extreme, some are tempted to respond paleo-constructively, resisting an engagement with culture – preferring to stay behind with the “same” fossilized representations of Christian intuitions, unearthed and preserved from modern (or pre-modern) discourse.  The danger here is the petrification of Christian faith.

The re-constructive response must navigate a way between these twin temptations.  Reforming theology is the ongoing task of presenting the internal coherence and explanatory power of the Christian understanding of God in each new context. A reconstructive theological presentation is guided by four desiderata: it aims for a faithful interpretation of the biblical witness, a critical appropriation of the theological tradition, a conceptual resolution of relevant philosophical issues, and a plausible elucidation of contemporary human experience. Theology is both dangerous and difficult, but it is also good for us.

The phrase “reforming theology” indicates both the dynamic reconstruction of theology and the reformative dynamics of theology.  Because the conceptual space of theology is wrapped up within the practical and liturgical space of our lives, the struggle to articulate the doctrine of God will also reform us.  Reflecting critically on the way we talk and think about God can facilitate the renewal of our minds (Rom. 12:2).

Theology is not simply a set of propositions “out there” that we can decide whether or not to engage. What we think and how we think are not so easily separated.  It is important for us to thematize not only the beliefs onto which we hold but also how we “hold on” to our beliefs.  The reconstruction of concepts within our consciousness is an important part of the process, but radical transformation occurs only as the way in which our consciousness orders concepts is itself reformed.  God’s gracious reformation of our fear and desire can be mediated through philosophical reflection on the categories that structure our theological formulations."

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For me this delightfully terrifying experience of fearing and loving God was intensified in my mid-20s when I began reading the mystics and contemplatives.  Like the rich young ruler, I had come to feel that my self-righteous rule-following Christianity was simply not enough.  I longed for a taste of eternal life here and now. 

My existential journey involved struggling with this quote from Thomas Merton: "Why should I desire anything that cannot give me God, and why should I fear anything that cannot take God away from me?" This led me into an experience of "unknowing" that liberated me from an unhealthy desire to control my relation to God through propositions and an unhealthy fear of admitting that my understanding of God would always need to be reformed and reforming.

Comments, questions or stories... ?

Comments

[Matt Wiebe]

Fascinating stuff. This gives words to some of the stuff that I've been thinking about as of late, regarding the two paths of calcification (leading to irrelevance) and over-accommodation (leading to a loss of faithfulness) in doing theology in these changing times.

I particularly appreciated your insights into the reconciliation of love and fear. Much to ponder here.

[Tony Mills]

Thanks a lot, LeRon. I appreciate your comments and I hope that this will be a forum where we can practice bridging the gap between practical and systematic theology which has grown over the last several centuries, but which, of course, is not inherent to the Gospel itself.

There is a quote from Augustine from "The City of God" that has been playing a role for me lately like that of the Merton quote for LeRon. It is from the last chapter of the last book:

"When He said through the prophet, ‘I will be your God, and ye shall be my people’, what else was meant than, I will be their sufficiency; I will be all that men honourably desire: life, and health, and nourishment, and plenty, and glory, and honour, and peace, and all good things? This, too, is the correct understanding of what the apostle says, ‘That God may be all in all.’ God will be the end of our desires."

I am trying to learn and live what it means for God to be my sufficiency, and for God to "educate" my desires away from things that are destructive and towards things which are of him.

[Brad Vander Waal]

I could write quite a bit on this topic I think, but I'll try to summarize my story. I grew up in the RCA in the midwest and went through college at Iowa State basically trying to hold onto the beliefs that I was taught as a child. Of course I continued to learn and grow but I tried to make sure I wasn't influenced too much by "those liberals".
Anyway I ran into doubts at different times but decided to go into pastoral ministry and even though I'm naturally a skeptic, I still tried to hold to the "evangelical doctrines" as much as I could.
Then came my classes with LeRon at Bethel and my theology gotten shaken up and once again I ran into doubts about my faith as a whole. So now I'm a pastor in the RCA in a church where many of the people probably assume I have the same kind of theology I grew up with and still struggle with doubts. So I would say I've experienced some of the "terror" of reforming theology.
I struggle with the fact that I'm supposed to agree with certain standards or at least "support" them. I also struggle with the feeling that I'm basically being paid to be a Christian and I am about to have a new addition to my family that in a sense relies on my theology for its financial security.
Well, that's enough to read, thanks for listening and if you have a suggestion for a boy's name please let me know.

[David Worley]

The integration of spiritual formation, communal living, and hard-core theology has been on my mind lately as I have contemplated how my particular church influences my spiritual formation and vice-versa. The intersection between the faith community and its theology is fascinating and I am particularly interested in the “fiduciary relations” that exist within a Church and how these might be transformative for us. (Incidentally, I see this question as being one of the primary issues practical theologians must work out in the 21st century.)

In Transforming Spirituality, you write: “Wise persons are identified not simply by the propositional content of their intellects but by the way in which they bind themselves in fiduciary relations within community.” “True persons are identified by the way they manifest faithfulness, the way in which they identify with others.” (71 TS) This category, fiduciary relations, is so critical to me and to my theology and yet I am having difficulty with understanding how to “practice” within my own community of faith in a way that is both forming for me and also edifying for those around me.

I struggle in the tension between practicing a spirituality that is “personal” (existentially relevant) and one that is “communal” (relationally relevant). From my personal experience with you (LeRon), it seems to me that you spend significant energy in meditation and in classic spiritual practices so that you are “free” to give yourself to those around you. Thus, from my observation of you, it seems as if you practice the personal in order to be free to faithfully live in the communal. (Is this a good interpretation of you?)

Would you share a bit about what a “week in the spiritual life” of LeRon Shults looks like? I think I (and probably others) would benefit from understanding how you hold together your theology – which you are continually developing – and your actual practice as a Christian faithful to the Gospel. I personally found the first unit of Transforming Spirituality very helpful, but am more interested in hearing how you live this out on the ground in the common elements of your life.

I look forward to your comments as well as insights from others.

[Andrew Arndt]

I should say that I, for one, am so very grateful, as others have expressed, that there is a forum such as this for discussing the delights and terrors of reforming theology. More still, I am grateful for the explicit admission (indeed, celebration) that reformations in the conceptual space that is Christian theology cannot help but have a profound effect on the liturgical and communal space of the local church. For some reason this has not always been readily acknowledged within evangelicalism, which has lead, I think, in part to a theology that had nothing to do with the real existential concern of actual persons, and in part to many of the problems that have now begotten the task that stands before all of us who would dare call ourselves members of the body of Christ: that of bringing helpful reform to it.

I will say that this task is most definitely both delightful and terrifying from my perspective. I, a young local church pastor fresh out of seminary, face on a daily basis the trouble that paleotheological formulations have when they are accepted as dogma within the life of the local church. The terror comes not just because there are power brokers in the church who seem to feel as though changes to such formulations will subvert the "church, pure and undefiled", though that certainly holds a measure of terror, but rather more because theology orients us in the world and helps free us from the ontological anxiety of not knowing "who" we are and "where" we are going ... and so it is leading the good, heartfelt, devoted-to-god believers down the path of reformation that is so delightful and yet so terrifying. Delightful because you know it will open up vistas of faithful living for them that they didn't know were possible, terrifying because, as Jesus said, "I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear..." Too much too soon does indeed subvert the natural emergence of reformed faith(fulness) that God intends to bring in his people, and the BIG challenge is lovingly leading people down the path, being sensitive to the fact that the liminality of theological transition has DIRECT consequences for those who do not live in the ivory tower that is often theological discourse.

I have found that it was possible in seminary to think radical thoughts without having to take any responsibility for my ideas. Such a bifurcation is not possible in the daily life of church. And it is this that makes reforming theology delightful and terrifying -- the stakes are high, and real things are on the line in the construal of life in the local church.

But man, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

[Brian W]

It's great to hear comments from others pastoring in similar settings as I. Too often, I feel alone in my reforming attempts. On the one side, some are willing to throw everything away. On the other, some are willing to throw me away for challenging the modernist views of God and this world. So I'm delighted to hear others engaged in the same journey.

I have to be somewhat furtive in dealing with my congregation. If I ask my people, "Are you ready to be theologically terrorized?" they'll say, "not if you want your paycheck." But when I approach all of life with delightful terror and model that kind of life in my relations, I see them following me. I can see why Paul kept on saying, "be imatators of me." (I'm guessing) he knew he wouldn't have a following simply by what he said.

For me, the tricky subjects still remain theology & science (because most scientists are possessed by the devil)and what constitutes Christ-like love (eg. can we have a baby shower for a single mom?) Thankfully though, in 3.5 years so far, they're slowing getting it. And it's a delight to see.

[Dana Ames]

I've been churched all my life...Raised RC and knew that I would live and die a Catholic (seriously considered becoming a nun, even into my teen years) because that was how one became and remained right with/close to God... Until friends in the "Jesus Movement" introduced me to the rest of the bible (the parts that weren't read from the pulpit every Sunday). Journeyed among non-denoms, shepherding folks, charismatics, Calvary Chapel, and Vineyard (my particular Vineyard was quite helpful for where I was at the time), seeking how God wanted me to be and to worship. Spent 20 years "solidly evangelical", then became very disillusioned with the dishonesty and fear of most church people (including me) keeping us from reflecting/manifesting much in the way of good news in our lives. Bible knowledge and "acceptingJesusChristasyourpersonalLordandSavior" did not seem to make a difference.

Nearly ten years ago decided to read the Gospels to answer my burning question: What did Jesus say The Gospel is? (Surely he had some ideas about it.) Found it was connected to the Kingdom of God, and it didn't look too much like what I had been hearing all those years I was a "good news-er" (evangelical).

At that precise moment, I began to encounter writers/thinkers who blew the roof off my theological "house" and then came in and rearranged the furniture (D. Willard, R. Webber, NT Wright, D. Clendenin, B. McLaren, others). The furniture rearranging continues. You, LeRon, are one of those rearrangers. Delightful terror indeed!

I feel/sense/believe I'm much more loyal to Jesus now that my loyalty doesn't depend on assenting to dogma- I affirm the ancient creeds, and I follow Jesus of Nazareth. So much now is up for discussion/ exploration, and I believe God is *happy* with that! I see more and more how so much is interconnected.

Before, I didn't really believe that God is good. The real reason the roof exploded was that I came to know (in your sense of knowing) that God is Good and Merciful. This has freed me to be more human and to love better, I think.

Hopefully this makes some kind of sense, and explains a bit about why your work is important to me.

I am so very curious about your journey from Pentecostalism to where you are now- you throw out tantalizing bits of information here and there, but I don't know how it fits together. How about your story?

Dana

[LeRon]

Thanks for all these wonderful comments!

I am still busy catching up from my conference, but tonight I will try to post a longer response and share more of my own story... I may need to wait til the weekend... for now let me say that my experience was incredibly similar to what many of you described.

More later...

[James]

LeRon,

I continue to enjoy your work more and more as I read through your work and try and follow the blogs.
In thinking about fear, fear is what keeps you frozen, clinging to doctrines, experiences, and ways of looking at the world that feel safe. These well worn pathways provide a certain type of comfort. But God really calls us to embrace the fear of leaving behind the old and embrace something new both within ourselves and through our relationship to God. My faith looks much different in my 30s then it did in my 20s. The questions I have to deal with are much harder (especially the philosophical ones), so there are times when I want to resort back to an earlier time when God seemed much safer and I knew exactly what he wanted from me and everyone else for that matter. So the delightful terror is leaving behind the safe and allowing yourself to be transformed by asking new questions and struggling with trying to find an answer or maybe even trusting more in the process than actually getting an 'answer.' Luckily, theology really is an adventure with new territory to be explored, but like any good journey, there are lots of unexpected turns and fears about if your are going the right way.