Pistis Christou

As an aspiring Biblical scholar who a) dabbles in theology and philosophy and b) considers the confessional and pedagogical importance of norming our theology to the Scriptural witness, I am often left frustrated with performing the task of theology. This is not the usual banter and and riposte, if not sometimes hostility, expressed between Biblical scholars and theologians. I love theologians (and Christian philosophers!) and their ways of reflecting on matters of Christian faith and I think they are integral to performing the intellectual tasks of the Christian Church. Nor am I implying that Christian theologians don’t consider Scripture normative; many, though not all, do. Rather, the critique stems from how I from my angle would prefer the field of theology to be categorically structured and taught.

If you were to open up a systematic theology, you would find it structured by thematic topics the nature of God, Christology, soteriology, eschatology, etc. In this way of dividing up the theological task, one construes theology being divided up into specific content determined by a singular theme. There are many reasons for this. Firstly, it allows for clarity in one’s theological reflection to know you are talking about a specific topic and to focus one’s cognitive powers towards that singular theme. Just like specialization pays off dividends in economics, it is also useful in the task of thinking. Secondly, when it comes to matters of protecting orthodox Christian faith, it is very useful when dealing with heretical or heterodox doctrines as it allows identification of specific problems in teachings; you can identify the specific topic they have deviated from with relative ease. Thirdly, from a more pastoral angle, if a parishoner were to ask a pastor a question about a specific topic that the pastor did not know, it is easy for the pastor to do a search on the specific topic. So, I recognize the many benefits that the current way the theological task can be arranged provides.

However, for these benefits, there are also costs. For one, I think it is lead to the idea that theology is normatively about ideas centered around singular themes in content. For instance, when we try to understand and develop a comprehension of Christology, we don’t necessarily think Christology also implies Pneumatology. Some theological thinkers recognize that Christology and Pneumatology go together, but I am not aware of recognizing the way we categorize theology is a contributor to this (some may have observed this; as I am not an expert in theology, I can not testify to the lack of awareness on this point but only my lack of familiarity on this point).

Secondly, by organizing theology around a single theme, we engage more so in what Jerome Bruner refers to as paradigmatic thinking, at the neglect of narratival thinking. To take the Christology and Pneumatology example, we might be inclined to understand the resurrection of Jesus as first telling us something about Jesus, that He was vindicated, that He is Lord, etc. However, if you pay close attention to Paul’s arguments in Romans, resurrection in Romans 1.4 and Romans 8.9-11, he does not understand the resurrection in isolation from the Spirit of God. Even when Paul does talk about the resurrection apart from the Spirit in Romans as in Romans 4.25 and Romans 10.9-13, he then talks about it in references to believers. The resurrection is not construed as an event that simply says something about Jesus, but it says something about Jesus in relation to the Spirit and to believers. Paul’s discourse about Jesus does not emerge from an isolated event understood paradigmatically on its own, but it is construed narratively and relationally.

Thirdly, separating theology into a singular theme leads to what I refer to as the balkanization of theological reasoning within the life of the Church. If we are wanting to propose a way forward on a specific topic, we are inclined to justify our view by the virtues of an argument we draw from theology from a specific domain. For instance, in my United Methodist denomination, we were considering a shift to an ecclesiology that would shape our denomination by convictions on matters of marriage and ordination to the local and annual conference levels.¹ Arguments made in favor of such an ecclesiology commonly appealed to a notion of what you might refer to as a “Wesleyan tolerance.” Wesley’s theological views were reduced down to a singular idea on a specific topic, forcefully appropriated from the context it ignored, to be offered in favor on the view. Or, arguments in favor of change views on marriage commonly stem from appeals to a singular theme as a hermeneutical theological level by making observations of how the Bible has been used to justify oppression in the past. The logic here was could be in some ways be boiled down to this: If you can find an argument from one domain of theology, one had justified reasons for one’s own stance that others should change their views on (And not merely a warrant that was still highly defeasible). Rather than considering a change in denominational structure based upon a more comprehensive theological analysis, arguments in favor were reduced to a singular theme. Meanwhile, traditionalists had a relatively well developed theological meaning system, which while not expressed in every instance, generally has a comprehensive structure to it. The point I am drawing here is that while the division of theology into separate categories is useful for protecting theological integrity, it is also useful for tearing down the whole; in other words, what protects theological integrity also threatens it.

Which leads me to a hypothesis for another reason why theology is structured as it is: it has been formed based upon the theological conflicts of the past based upon specific topoi. This very way of structuring theology has conflict and contention at the center of it; it subtly reinforces an antagonistic dialectic where people focus on the specific questions and topics in direct contention. Decisions between conflict ideas are hard to settle between various, complex systems of thinking; we thus pragmatically reduce conflicting proposals down to its most salient and significant themes, setting the way future theological disagreements will come down. For instance, the emergence of Christology has an independent category of intellectual, theological analysis emerges after Nicea, witnessed by the later Nestorian controversy then digging even further into the topic of Christology. Or consider how Arminian theology emerges from contention along the specific topic of predestination from the Belgic Confession and Heidelburg Catechism, both of which was arranging on a similar, thematic division on the content of the topics the addressed.

Allow me to clarify my thoughts on this matter, however: the problem as I see it isn’t that such divisions into separate categories as is commonly done. Rather, it is how the defining understanding of Christian faith is construed through such a division. When such a manner of dividing theological topics permeates down to the confessional level as it did in the Belgic and Heidelburg Catechism, treating theology as the exposition and answers to specific themes and ideas, we have encoded into Christian theology into a convention that was inculcated by theological division as it also reinforces it.

There is a certainly a place for theology divided by topic outlines, but the earliest authoritative confession we have in the global Church, the Apostles Creed, is structured more so in a narratival fashion: beginning with God as creator, moving into a sequentially order accounting of Jesus’ birth and ultimate ascension, finally moving into soteriological and eschatological dimensions of the work of the Spirit. While yes, Father, Son, and Spirit are mentioned in their different subsections, the Apostle’s Creed is more so a narrative confession than it is a paradigmatic one. But we see in the Nicene Creed a move more towards focusing on the individual parts of the confession rather than how the confession as a whole holds together in a narrative fashion. For this reason, I am a bigger fan of the Apostles Creed for worship settings, even as I embrace the Nicene Creed as a doctrinal standard.

So what would I propose instead the whole of theology submitted to the ideas of this aspiring Biblical scholar? It wouldn’t entail the rejection of the division of theology according to thematic content, but it would more consciously place it at a later part of theology. Rather, my ideas stem more so from how I believe Paul understood the faith, spiritual, ethical, and intellectual development of Christians as represented in 1 Corinthians 2.1-3.4, where there are three broad phases of development: matters of faith, matters of ethics, then matters of (intellectual) wisdom.

At the core for Paul was the most fundamental confession of the early teacings of the apostles about 1) what happened to Jesus in the cross and resurrection, 2) the significance of this event for people drawn from the OT Scriptures, and 3) the testimonies to Jesus’ resurrection (see 1 Corinthians 15.1-12). This list is not intended to be reductive of the limitations of the kerygma, as my sentiments believe the Holy Spirit was part of the early preaching based upon 1 Corinthians 2.1-5 and then 1 Corinthians 15.15 in comparison to Romans 1.4 and 8.11, but merely representative. The kerygma is thus principally concerned about what we would likely refer to today as evangelism in addressing what about the Gospel is preaching and how it is preached. A kerygmatic theology would be focused on understanding what exactly the content of this kerygma is. For instance, is it essentially existential, apocalyptic, cosmic, or a blending of these dimensions?² Thus, kerygmatic theology is principally a historical, reconstructive task that lays the foundations for what follows, although there is certainly some room for consideration of how different contexts could shift the manner of proclamation. In addition, a kerygmatic theology considers why type of beliefs necessarily emerge from or are dissonant with the kerygma; it is here where we begin to get into dogmatic questions such as the Christological questions of Nicea and Chalcedon. But this branch of kerygmatic theology is not determining what the fundamental proclamation is, but rather why type of beliefs would either violate or work against the kerygma.

Then, after that, there is the task of Biblical theology, but of a specific sort. Rather than a stereotypical Biblical theology sorted by specific topics that one mines the various texts and collates together to give specific views on specific topics, it is a Biblical theology that explores the various themes that branch off from the fundamental kerygma. What is the significance of Jesus becoming Lord? How does one understand the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead in relationship to the theme of New Creation? This form of Biblical theology is essentially tasked with trying to “contextualize” the kerygma with the larger Biblical narratives. Other considerations would also be considered relevant, such as matters of theological interpretation of Scripture in light of critical questions such as the Trinitarian relations (which becomes more particularly prominent at a later phase). However, what is principally at stake here is situated the kerygma within a larger theological structure that can be used to generate further reflection and insights down the line.

One key point that this Biblical theology would point towards then is the branch of Christian ethics. However, my understanding of Christian ethics would not simply be reflective but also pedagogical. Not only does it address the question “how is it we should live in light of the redemption in Christ?” but also the questions of “how it is that God accomplishes this redemption?” and “how it is that we learn and live out this redemption?” However, at this point, the ethical frameworks used for analysis should be considered consistent with the fundamental understanding and significance of the Gospel of Jesus as contained in the kerygma.

Then, emerging from that would be questions about theological epistemology in the more formal reflections on how is it that we come to know about God through Jesus and the Holy Spirit? From the start, this question is situated within the kerygma and why and how it is that Christians comes to know God through that proclamation, but it also serves as a foundation for addressing the epistemic base of all knowledge about God and not just the kerygma. This is placed here, rather than earlier, due to the fundamental conviction that we learn through doing before we learn through thinking, and so a more formal reflection of epistemic matters should follow, and not precede, ethical reflection and praxis.

Finally, we get into the branch of thematic theology, which addresses the various points of contention that emerge throughout history on different matters. It is here where we get into metaphysics, ontological, and more in-depth eschatological considerations, etc., etc. In other words, this is where much of the tasks done in more academic theology operate and function.

Two things to note about this schematization of theology. Firstly, is recognizes the two-way relationships between the various parts of theology, but it recognizes that it is ultimately and fundamentally grounded on the kerygma. All other matters that are deeply inconsistent with the kerygma are considered problematic, rather than trying to understand the kerygma in light of later theological reflections. Thus, while this way of doing theology makes room for the intellectual virtues, it also presents a hedge against over-intellectualization by grounding theology to the specific form and content of the kerygma.

Secondly, in this form theology takes on greater concerns for coherence in theology. The one real “foundational” element is the kerygma and the OT Scriptures that provide the significance to the kerygma, but this element cannot be readily broken into analyzable cognitive “parts” which serve as foundations for theological inferences; rather inferences emerge more creatively from apprehension of the whole of the kerygma and then tested against the kerygma. Thus, a greater role for creativity is had in theology, but a creativity that is disciplined by the need for coherence; consequently it looks closer to a scientific form of hypothesis and testing (but without a collection of measurable data) than it does deductive rationalism. Consequently, the greater concern is how the various ideas fit together. The primary concern then is with how our reflections about theology fit together as a whole with the epistemic foundations of God’s own disclosure to us, rather than simply drawing theological inferences without consideration for how those inferences impact the whole. This conviction rests of the idea that even human thinking is part of God’s forming us into the Temple of the Holy Spirit through the bringing together of understanding through various, Spirit-led teachers and thinkers. Prioritization of coherence rather than the implicit often epistemic foundationalism that has commonly been employed.

To be clear, this is only a sketch on a relatively inchoate idea. However, it is a different way of doing theology, which if done, could make the various parts of the theological task more focused and possibly even less susceptible to protracted conflicts. In addition, it provides a place for theology frameworks that don’t have the systematic approach of thematic theology, such as Wesleyan theology, which operates in my mind somewhere between ethical and epistemic concerns (but definitely shading more towards ethics).

1. For those unfamiliar with the United Methodist structure, if the denomination represented at the General Conference level is the United States, then making decisions are the annual conference level is the equivalent of invoking states’ rights.
2. I personally favor the cosmic-personal understanding how the early kerygmatic proclamation.