Why Art is More True than Life

"The truth of a work of art is both its adequacy to the basic structure of human experience and its correction and deepening of our understanding of this structure, so that we rightly say not only that art is true to life, but that art is more true than life.”
- Sallie McFague, Literature and the Christian Life

*painting is "Momentum" by Stephanie Roberts

Reflections on Narrative Theology, Part 1

I recently taught a course called "Narrative Theology" and thought I would post a few reflections on the experience. I found it to be one of my most stimulating teaching experiences thus far. The course was challenging to prep, because there isn't an established "canon" of course material upon which one can draw. Narrative theology is not so much a "discipline," or a "field" of study as it is a convergence of theologians and writings which share similar, albeit distinct, concerns and questions. What is theology? What is the point of it? What's the relation between narrative and theology? Who, or what, determines the meaning of a text? How is a theological proposal authorized or legitimated? What's the role of one's community in interpretation and theologizing? The questions go on.

While this schematization has its problems, it is helpful to think of narrative theology in terms of two "schools," Yale and Chicago. The Yale school includes theologians such as Hans Frei, George Lindbeck, and Stanley Hauerwas. The Chicago school boasts David Tracey, Sally McFague, and Paul Ricouer. It's crude to put it this way, but you might think of the Yale school folks as emphasizing the particularity and finality of the biblical narrative as appropriated within one's interpretive, religious community, while the windy city theologians emphasize the power of biblical narrative and metaphor to open new "possible worlds" (Ricoeur) and to intersect and dialogue with equally valid disciplines of discourse across interpretive communities.

The most intriguing discussions during the course centered around questions regarding the task of theology. We can grant that the Bible contains lots of narratives (duh), but what does a theology that attends intentionally to narrative and employs it as a form of theological discourse provide? Does narrative theology actually contribute a new way of doing theology? And if it does, is it an improvement on pre-modern theologizing? (or is it just a fancy way of saying we ought to be biblical (Yale) and our theology ought to be creatively engaged with the world (Chicago)?

I offer four initial suggestions (I welcome others from readers--especially those who took the course) as to what aspects of Narrative theology seem most helpful and potentially constructive for evangelical theology and its mission. These four suggestions come by way of four representative theologians.

(1) From Hans Frei: the warning that we have "eclipsed the biblical narrative" with something else. I fear that the evangelical church has substituted the raw and affective power of the biblical narratives, with all its depth, richness, complexity and perplexity, with other things (e.g. ideologies about scripture which leave scripture itself behind, self-help material, vague generalities regarding the "meaning of life," a CEO God rather than the Trinity, etc.)

(2) From George Lindbeck (and Wittgenstein): The insight that meaning is contextual. Words do not mean things, people do. And people speak words in a context. When the crusader, lopping off his enemy's head, say's "Jesus is Lord!" what does "Jesus is Lord" mean? It doesn't mean the same thing as when the martyr says it. This point has innumerable applications for theology, church life, evangelism, witness, etc.

(3) From Paul Ricoeur: On good literature (and especially Scripture) as opening up "possible worlds." The narratives of Scripture suggest new worlds we can can live in--worlds that give us hope for a better future. Preachers ought to read Ricoeur and consider how, when preaching the text, they can invite their listeners to enter the world of the Bible and to substitute its grand, hopeful (not all of them seem so, of course) narratives for their own little ones (materialism, "success," fatalism, etc.)

(4) From Sally McFague: On parable and metaphor as illuminating the mysterious intersection of the divine and the human, the sacred and the secular. Jesus' parables, she points out, are masterpieces of parabolic theology, in which the infinite is expressed through the finite, the Kingdom of God through the reality of the human. Coins, sheep and Samaritans become vehicles through which God's redemption is made tangible and accessible. Theologians ought to work hard at seeing the presence of God in the stuff of real life.

Does God Always Get What God Wants?

The question may sound odd. Jarring, even. Our default sensibilities react sternly against the idea. Doesn't God, the all-powerful, all-knowing one deserving of all superlatives, always get his way? For many, great comfort lies in the belief that nothing happens outside God's plan. Every fallen sparrow was scripted. Thus every war, disease, (seemingly) untimely death, job loss, divorce, is part of God's intended plan. But for some, this view of God and God's "will" is less than satisfying. Does God really "want" cancer, genocide, and rape? If He does not want it, but yet it exists, it seems God does not always get what God wants. We could imagine two scenarios: (1) God won't prevent (all) evil and suffering because he can't or (2) God can't prevent (all) evil and suffering because he won't. The first option emphasizes God's limitations in the face of the complexities in the universe he decided to create. His hands are tied. Nancy Eiseland, in her beautifully challenging book, The Disabled God, argues for something like this option. She cannot relate to a God who could prevent all physical disabilities, by a wave of the magic wand, as it were, but simply chooses not to. The second option emphasizes God's unwillingness to intervene at every point, because of some greater good that he wants to ultimately actualize. In this perspective, God could prevent any evil or instantiation of suffering, by a simple exercise of divine power. Either option one chooses, it seems that God doesn't always get what God wants, in a sense, because the world is not yet what it should be.

In another sense, however, we can say that God decided to create this particular kind of world--a world in which sentient beings (demonic and human) are free--free to love or free to hate. Free to be thankful or free to be miserly. Free to rejoice with and for others, or free to plot and scheme against them. It's also a world in which the natural world is free--thus humans are not protected against tragedy, disease and trouble. God decided to create this kind of world, knowing what the consequences would be. And yet, we can say in another sense that in particular instances of evil and suffering and tragedy, God does not always get what God wants.

One day, when Christ returns, the Kingdom arrives in full, and the "new heavens and the new earth" supervene human history, we trust that God will have what God wants. But even then it's not so simple, because if a dimension of existence remains eternally in mis-relation to God (Hell), will God have what God wants? Not according to 2 Peter 3:9, which tells us that God desires no one to perish, but for all to come to eternal life.

A Pseudo Review of Tony Jones' "The New Christians" (Part 1)

While this book has been around for a year or so, it's safe to say that the "new Christians" are still, well, relatively new. I hadn't had an opportunity to read Tony Jones' book until yesterday. I'm glad that I finally picked it up. This is an excellent, thoughtful introduction to the emergent Christian movement. Jones weaves the impulses, intuitions, values and concerns of postmodern Christianity around the story of the "birth" of Emergent Village. It's a good balance of auto-biography, theological/philosophical reflection, and testimonies ("dispatches") of Christians who are learning to practice and sustain their faith differently from what has been modeled to them in the era of "crusades" and mega-churches. Jones defines emergent Christianity as "an effort by a particular people in a particular time and place to respond to the gospel as it (once again) breaks through the age-old crusts. And it's the shifting tectonics of postmodernism that have caused the initial fissure" (p.37). Some of those who vigorously oppose movements like emergent Christianity may simply not recognize that emergent Christianity is not a capitulation to culture, but is a Gospel-informed response to the questions, concerns and presuppositions embedded within the culture of postmodernity. Of course, some might argue that emergent Christianity is not grounded on the "Gospel," as they understand it. But it would be difficult, on the basis of Jones' book, to make the case that what impels the New Christians is a hetero-Gospel. Rather, what the reader discovers here is a critical response to the particular way that culture and Christianity have been conflated in the evangelical church during the twilight of modernity. And, as Jones' persuasively argues, it is precisely their adherence to the Gospel and their allegiance to Jesus which drives them to do faith, church and witness differently. Emergents do not wish to be either liberals or fundamentalists (both of which are captive to modernist epistemology), but faithful Jesus-followers in their particular context.

Narrative Theology - Just do it!

The following is a write-up on a Narrative Theology course I'll be teaching this summer. I'd love for as many of you Bethel students as are interested to sign up! It should be a good time:

Narrative Theology



God. Story. Community.

Is your theology stale and propositional? Is it individualist and modernist? Then you need a narrative theology facelift. Narrative theology (also sometimes called "post-liberalism") is, in part, based on a conviction that at the heart of biblical faith are stories about God and God's relationship to his people. Rather than attempt to construct a coherent set of "timeless," eternally valid propositions, theology should be deeply attuned to the variety, the complexity and the configurations of these stories. But narrative theology isn't just the recognition that the Bible contains lots of stories. Rather, it is based on the assumption that the way we think, understand ourselves, worship, and theologize most effectively is by telling and embodying stories in communities. The "narrative turn" in theology during the last half of the 20th century is, admittedly, not as new as it seems. Numerous theologians throughout history have recognized that theology should be driven by story, that the story of the Bible is passed on to us through communities of faith, and that dynamic rationalities are storied epistemologies. This course will cover historical precursors to what is now known as the discipline of Narrative Theology through writings of St. Augustine, Karl Barth, Richard Niebuhr and Hans Frei. We will then engage the writings of more recent and current "players" in the movement, such as George Lindbeck, Paul Holmer, Stanley Hauerwas and-on the "post-conservative" side of the discussion-Kevin Vanhoozer. Attention will also be given to influence of the philosophy of language on narrative theology through the works and influence of Ludwig Wittgenstein and Paul Ricoeur. Finally, the course will explore the relation between NT and current expressions of both feminist and evangelical theologies.

Pietism Conference at Bethel University

March 19-21, 2009

From intellectual inquiry to spiritual practice to social reform, Pietism has exerted an enormous influence on various forms of Trans-Atlantic Christianity, and on Western culture more generally. However, this contribution remains largely unacknowledged or misunderstood because some negative stereotypes—some undeserved, others deserved—cast Pietism as a quietistic, sectarian religion that is interested primarily in a narrow set of concerns.

The goal of this conference is to provide scholars from all traditions an opportunity to explore the many dimensions of the pietist heritage, with a view to understanding the ongoing relevance of the "pietist impulse" for contemporary problems and questions across disciplines.

Plenary Speakers:

Donald Dayton: Author of Discovering an Evangelical Heritage
Emilie Griffin: Author of Doors into Prayer
Shirley Mullen: President, Houghton College
Roger Olson: Professor of Theology, Truett Theological Seminary, Baylor University
Jonathan Strom: Associate Professor of Church History, Candler School of Theology, Emory University

* The above is taken from Bethel University's website.

I will also be doing a paper at the conference entitled: "The Living Church and the Living Word: Kierkegaard and Grundtvig on the Locus of Revelation."

Get your tickets now, you won't want to miss it!

Don't Squeeze the Cottenelle: Or, "Would You Switch Denominations Before you Switched Toilet Paper?"

Tomorrow I'll be speaking, along with Dr. Michael Slusser, a Catholic theologian and priest, to a ministerial fellowship in Fairbault on the topic of "Ecumenism: How it Affects Our Churches and Ministries" (or something along those lines.) We'll be centering our discussions around a 2008 Pew Forum "Religious Landscape Study" which concluded that American religious life is "both very diverse and very fluid." The study surmises: “Looking only at changes from one major religious tradition to another (e.g., from Protestantism to Catholicism, or from Judaism to no religion), more than one-in-four U.S. adults (28%) have changed their religious affiliation from that in which they were raised." The numbers get even higher when the switch happens within a major religious tradition. Reinforcing the Pew study, the Ellison Research firm released findings which showed that Americans are more likely to switch their denominational affiliation than to switch their toilet paper brand. Many are less likely to go from Charmin to Cottonelle (or Crest to Colgate) than from Methodist to Catholic. There are a good many denominations to choose from, even in smaller town like Fairbault, and many folks may not know much--or care that much--about the differences (in particular the historical and theological differences) between them. George Lindbeck's famous insight that, at a sociological level, doctrines function like "language games," serving to distinguish denominations from each other while allowing ecumenical fellowship around other important points of commonality (such as ethical issues) may be reaching a breaking point. The distinctiveness of each denomination's language games may be blurring away recognizable boundaries, allowing for a free and easy switch of church membership and involvement.

The question this phenomenon raises, as Dr. Slusser puts it, is whether this is a good thing or a bad thing--and why? Does this change reflect a move in a positive direction? Does it suggest that people are willing to jump denominational ships in order to experience personal spiritual transformation? (i.e. that they are perceptive consumers of what brings them spiritual health?). Does it suggest that denominations are enough alike that such switching is relatively easy? Or, does it suggest that our churches are losing the ability to state clearly--and within historical continuity--our doctrinal and liturgical distinctives? Or, if they can state them clearly, that they are unable to convince their adherents to commit to them--at least not more so than they're committed to Crest or to Cottonelle?

What about you? Do you embrace the "fluidity" of American religious and denominational identity or do you think it is course that needs correcting?