[This is an ongoing project that is analyzing N.T. Wright’s
5 volume series, Christian Origins and the Question of God. This series is
widely read and bridges the gap between the academic and devotional world. It
is therefore worthy to be carefully analyzed so that all readers can understand
his key points while at the same time gaining a critical eye to some of his
rather bold claims. This series of posts are concerning volume 1 – The New Testament and the People of God.]
N.T. Wright’s final “theoretical” chapter in his series on
Christian Origins is one considering New Testament theology. Unlike his
previous chapters on the theory, I have far fewer challenges to his theory of
what theology is or how it applies to the New Testament. While I certainly have
frustrations with Wright on a variety of levels, here he is internally
consistent and I will not be attempting to show that he is presenting something
insufficient as theory. This is a vast improvement over his first four chapters
of his book. That being said, this chapter has a major problem in how he tries
to apply that theory of theology to
modern readers. His argument for the authority of the text as more universal
than a basic matter of faith is important because it provides a case study from
common tropes in the study of the New Testament.
As a historian of early Christianity teaching at a Christian
college, students are often shocked when I take a historical/sociological
approach to the study of the Christianity. Students (and some colleagues) are
shocked that I am not taking a “theological” approach to the subject. When
pressed for what a “theological approach” means and why that is so different from the historical/sociological,
the student has trouble saying anything beyond a vague discussion of “truth.”
N.T. Wright’s chapter provides an excellent case study in what people often
mean when they discuss a “theological” approach and what it is they are hoping
to see in that approach that is different from the historical. This analysis
will show the strengths and weaknesses of that approach.
First, the idea that a historical/sociological approach to
Christianity will not include theology is ridiculous. Theology is the study of
how humans interact with God. As such, any discussion about a religion is a
discussion about theology. Wright defines theology in a way that is relatively
standard and helpful:
It is possible to suggest a
sharply focused definition of theology: theology is the study of gods, or a
god. It is also possible, and today quite common, to work with a more
wide-ranging definition, interacting with elements of the worldview pattern:
theology suggests certain ways of telling the story, explores certain ways of
answering the questions, offers particular interpretations of the symbols, and
suggests and critiques certain forms of praxis.[1]
Wright’s definition is helpful here – he folds theology
within the pattern of worldview. He suggests that theology is a way of
understanding and providing ethical norms for how one lives one’s life.
It should be noted that Wright’s initial phrase that
theology is the “study of gods” is simply inaccurate. Gods, being defined as
“other,” does not allow for simple discussion of who they are on their own.
That practice is mere speculation. Instead, theology is how the gods interact
with humans. Wright later clarifies this point making this very claim:
Theology thus tells stories about
human beings and the world, stories which involve either a being not reducible
to materialist analysis or at least a provocative space within the story-line
where such a being might, by implication, be located. In the light of this
story-telling activity, theology asks questions, as to whether there is a god,
what relation this god has to the world in which we live, and what if anything
this god is doing, or will do, about putting it to rights.[2]
Theology (or at least Christian theology) has no interest in
discussing aspects about God that is unrelated to humans. Theology is instead a
study of interaction between God and
humans – both directly and indirectly. Here, Wright and I have no major
disagreement except perhaps aesthetically in an argument.
Further, Wright and I agree that one of the most important
aspects to understanding theology is not only what are the stated beliefs and
interactions with God, but also the consequent
beliefs that are usually unintentional. Wright presents this in the
following way:
These basic beliefs and aims, which
serve to express and perhaps safeguard the worldview, give rise in turn to consequent beliefs and intentions, about the world, oneself,
one’s society, one’s god.[3]
The study of theology is important in understanding which
beliefs were primary and which secondary – namely which were placed for the
intended meaning and which were elements with unintended consequences. For
example, no religion wants fewer people to be members of it. However, nearly
every religion (at least nearly every branch of Christianity) is exclusive.
Religions are exclusive as a consequence – the intended purpose was to
establish identity of “who we are.” If we want that identity to mean anything,
then boundaries have to be established to make clear who we are not – thereby
necessitating exclusivity.
The problem with Wright’s analysis is when he tries to do
more than describe the theology of the first century and instead begins to
suggest that we should be able to know more about theology now than simply
“this is what people held.” He chastises what he sees as the academic majority
for not taking theology seriously. Wright pedantically suggests as such:
Many thinkers, politicians and
even biblical scholars dismiss ‘theology’ as if it were simply a set of answers
that might be given to a pre-packaged set of abstract dogmatic questions, but
it cannot possibly be reduced to that level.[4]
He seems to have shifted foci. If he was discussing theology
as the things that the writers of the New Testament were thinking of, I do not
know of a single Biblical historian who would not consider it seriously and his
statement would be nonsense.
Wright has pulled a classic bait and switch – he got
everyone agreeing with him on the importance of considering the theological
elements of the New Testament to then shift the conversation to a current state
that we, the modern readers, need to adopt in order to read the arguments
carefully. Wright rightly points out that theology is a normative discourse:
The whole includes a necessarily
normative element. It will attempt not just to describe but to commend a way of
looking at, speaking about, and engaging with the god in whom Christians
believe, and with the world that this god has created. It will carry the
implication this is not only what is believed
but what ought to be believed.[5]
Again, this is completely accurate for the discussion of the
first century – the New Testament was not written by people who were not
thinking normatively – of course they were. The problem is that Wright now
wants modern readers to adopt this very same approach.
Wright is offended by the idea that scholars avoid such
normative discussion and that it is relegated to the matter of opinion:
[The academic study of
Christianity] has been helped by the impression which is given, precisely
within the post-Enlightenment worldview itself, that matters of religious
opinion are simply private options which do not engage with the public world.[6]
Wright sets up a discourse wherein he accuses the academy
(if indeed it rightly is one thing) of adopting a post-enlightenment view that
considers religion as “private options.”
Quite frankly, Wright is correct that the academy views
religion as something very personal. He seems to suggest that this is a new
development and that it shows the failure of the academy. It is certainly the
case that there were times in the history of Christianity wherein religion was
not nearly as individual (meaning
that people were far less creative in how they constructed their religious
belief), but not really a time when religion was less personal in Christianity. That something is personal is simply to
suggest that one has adopted it as a major component of one’s own worldview.
The source and content of that (whether one thinks it was revealed by God
directly, provided by the community, chosen by the individual) does not change
the fact that it is personally held. What Wright seems to want to do is to
chastise the academy for recognizing that some things are “matters of faith.”
Wright, of course, would never admit this – he would always
suggest that some things are matters of faith – he simply struggles to discuss
what makes this approach so different. This brings us back to the common trope
that one should consider the text more “theologically.” This seems to mean that
the teacher should assume everyone holds the same views as he or she does and
then tell everyone what is normative about
it. The reason this is so frustrating for a teacher is that the actual content
is not tremendously different. If I teach a class telling the students “The
Gospel of Mark considers x normative” is that really different in content than
saying, “X is normative as expressed by the Gospel of Mark?”
Wright admits that the content is not primarily of major difference and instead it is simply a matter of authority. Wright argues that a major component of the “theological” is that of authority:
Wright admits that the content is not primarily of major difference and instead it is simply a matter of authority. Wright argues that a major component of the “theological” is that of authority:
Since (a) stories are a key
worldview indicator in any case, and (b) a good part of the New Testament
consists of stories, of narratives, it might be a good idea to consider how
stories might carry, or be vehicles for, authority.[7]
This seems to be Wright’s main purpose in discussing the
“theological” approach – he wants to find a way that the text can be seen as
authoritative for his readers. He suggests that this is like unto a 5 part play
wherein we only have the first four parts and we are set to create the fifth.
He argues that in such a system, there can be authority still present even
though it is a human development by us (rather than the original play):
Nevertheless, there will be a
rightness, a fittingness, about certain actions and speeches, about certain
final moves in the drama, which will in one sense be self-authenticating, and
in another gain authentication form their coherence with, their makings sense
of, the ‘authoritative’ previous text.[8]
Here, Wright’s goals are made clear. If we follow his logic,
the original 4 parts of the play are the “known authority” – namely the story
of the Biblical text. The thing he wants “authority” over is the fifth part – how we are living our lives right now. When
Wright discusses authority concerning theology of the Biblical texts, he doesn’t
want to discuss the authority of the texts, he wants to discuss the authority
of how we are living right now.
This chapter of Wright’s book is very helpful because this
seems to be precisely what is challenged to me regularly when discussing the
New Testament. The earlier rhetorical divide between “The Gospel of Mark considers
x normative” and “X is normative as expressed in the Gospel of Mark” is not
what people mean when they request the “theological” approach. They seem to
want to know less about if the texts are authoritative – they want to know what is authoritative for their life
right now. Rather than the two comments about the Gospel of Mark, they want a
statement more like, “You should follow x and y” with a sidebar that reads “which
by the way, happens to be built upon an idea found in the Gospel of Mark.” The
discussion is not a discussion of the content of the text, nor even its nature
(as inspired or not), but rather, a discussion of how one currently ought to
live one’s life.
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