Stepping into the River
There is an old line from Heraclitus that says, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
The invitation that Thomas Oden makes in How Africa Shaped the Christian Mind, is for the reader to come to the water’s edge and look at the river of Christian faith and history in a new way. He invites the Western Christian in particular, to see that the rushing river is not the same as we might have previously seen it. Not only is the history and development of Christian thought and practice tied up more closely with the African continent, cultures and peoples than is generally known, but as we begin a learning journey about the uniquely African contributions to the faith, the reader can be transformed as well.
Oden builds his case with both large claims and minute details. He writes, “my purpose is to seek out the core of the African legacy to Christianity. How did Africa shape the Christian mind?” (42) He then goes on to line out a variety of ways that Christian thought and practice were developed in the African context from the earliest days. These include the idea of the university, growing out of the great library at Alexandria, Egypt, and the practice of exegesis from Origen of Alexandria and Augustine of Hippo (which is in modern day Libya). Oden digs deep to show the way that Cyprian and the bishops in northern Africa developed practices for debating and resolving doctrinal disputes and theological questions. The patterns that these early African leaders mastered were largely followed by the later ecumenical councils of the church.
Oden also shows the way that monasticism was first practiced in the deserts of North Africa and how it pointed the way toward a future European varietal. It is clear in his writing that Odeon has a deep passion for his subject and a clear purpose to bring out the real history of contributions that Africans made in the early centuries of Christian faith development.
One of the challenging aspects of reading this book is that there is at times, almost a polemical tone to his writing. Here is an impassioned scholar who wants to communicate his life’s work, but even to the most receptive reader, there is a sense that he is upset with someone (and it might be us!). He writes, “These are bold assertions. They remain to many European intellectuals largely ignorable… Is it because the intelligentsia and refined historians have intuitively assumed the mental superiority of north to south?” As readers, we are stepping into a stream that has been flowing, and even if we didn’t know it, there are lively debates afoot.
Another of the challenges in reading this book probably comes from my own Western eyes and ears. Most of the examples given of the early Christian influence and contributions come from Northern Africa in general and Egypt in particular. To the Western or American mind, “Africa” is usually equated with sub-Saharan Africa, where racial categories seem more clear-cut. The region where most of the work that Oden is studying takes place is one that has significant cross-currents of influence. These include the Mediterranean or “Greco-Roman” world of that time, but also the deep influence of Arabic culture and Islam, which arrived in the 7th century. The clear challenge that Oden wants to make to Western Christian readers is to remember that Coptic Christianity had thrived there long before Islam arrived. But because of the current make-up of Northern Africa (largely Arab and Muslim), it is not surprising that readers don’t naturally equate this region with its Christian past.
Oden wants to work to bridge this divide between the regions of Africa. He writes, “reconnecting black Africa to the historic center of Coptic Christianity is crucial…” (98). It is indeed crucial to the overall argument that he wants to make, which is that “Africa” can be viewed as a whole, and should not be picked apart piecemeal (especially by those of European descent), because this would work to diminish the real contributions of Africa to the world Christian movement.
Even holding onto some of the challenges of reading this book, and some of the legitimate critiques, I am still really glad to be engaging with it. My reflection is that it’s an important work and one that many Western Christians (myself included) need to read. Oden uses the image of the river valleys that helped formed the Christian faith, the Medjerda and the Nile. Those walking outside of these verdant areas were living in the desert. It seems that for us who have yet to fully learn what the riverbed of African Christianity has to teach, we have also been out in a dry and parched land. One can survive for a while walking that way, but to truly be refreshed and to flourish, it takes a trip to the river.
For me personally, this is a great book to begin with as we start our studies. It’s a return to a river that I have been to before, and yet, what I already sense is that it’s not quite the same as I knew it. This is a time for new learning and growing. To step into this river means learning the language of scholarship, to engage the questions that are present, and also to be swept up with the larger purposes and possibilities ahead. I am open to what Oden wants to teach in his book, and I am seeking to find the kind of person I will become because I am stepping into the river.
About the Author
Dave Watermulder
8 responses to “Stepping into the River”
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Dave,
Your piece beautifully captures the essence of Oden’s book. Thank you!
I’m fascinated by your reminder of the author’s focus on the early development of ecumenism as being African in origin. Learning from these models, Western Christianity sought an ecumenical pathway in its earlier stages, but began splintering with the Reformation. Today, by some accounts, there are 33,000 unique Protestant denominations. Somehow we’ve forgotten those earlier lessons from the African river valleys you’ve mentioned.
How to reconcile, how to come to consensus, how to remain focused on the bigger picture – these are lessons ecumenism and Africa can teach us.
Dave,
I appreciated the river analogy and how appropriate that to be in our perception of history. We see and experience the river that is in front of us. We even tell the story of what we saw and experienced to others, sometimes that makes it into the history books. As we try to understand our own history, it is indeed good to have many (along the riverbank) share their understanding so we have a broader perspective. Thanks for your insight.
Thanks for your insights. You capture what I believe to be the essence of the book and raise several interesting criticisms, particularly recognizing his ‘polemical tone’. If this text is any indication of what we have in store over the next 3 years I am both greatly anticipating and feeling slightly nervous about the road ahead.
Hi Dave! Thank you for an insightful blog. I read your statement “but even to the most receptive reader, there is a sense that he is upset with someone (and it might be us!)” with interest. I’m wondering what you believe his lens of frustration might be? From my perspective, I wondered if it is a justice issue for Oden? I’m sure there are other theories and I’m just curious about yours?
Hey Jean,
That’s a great question. Yea, I think he definitely sees it as a justice issue and feeling like an important piece is being lost. Part of it is directed at African people, and the struggle to have them lay claim to their heritage. But part of it is definitely directed toward Western
Christians who have skipped over that history and essentially ignored it.
Thanks for your post Dave. This notion of the author seeming upset, I felt as well. And yet, like you, I was very open and receptive to his research. See you soon!
Dave, I think many of us read this book more as a pep-rally speech for Africa rather than a true scholarly source, and because of that, we wanted to be motivated for him, but found it hard to agree at the same time. I think there were too many accounts of Oden practically bashing on all outsiders in his attempt to unite Africa, and that rational only alienates any readers that are not actually African.
I liked how you pointed out his argument for the picking apart of Africa; I actually found this a little annoying. The reality is that I believe that, at least for the most part, Africa has successfully picked itself apart. War, famine, and drought may have all played apart, but the reality is, it is really too late to come along and try to get everyone else to take the blame for it.
To me however, that is exactly what it seemed Oden was trying to do.
Dave,
Thanks for your post and review of Oden’s work. I agree he showed passion for his cause to regain the Christian legacy for Africa and does not show much mercy for the Euro-West (E-W) worldview. However, in my experience after living and traveling through several African countries, he does not seem to acknowledge the tribal influence that will contextually influence the new generation of future African scholars. While we may make individual and independent decisions on a variety of matters in the E-W, most African’s would naturally and culturally seek guidance and support from their tribal elders and council. The tribe would come together to meet and discuss these matters at their tribal meeting hall. Well, it is not really a hall, but a large open-air hut with a thatched roof supported by wooden poles without walls. In Botswana they are called a Kgotla. There is a deep connection among African people groups to their tribe, and it is common during holidays for the urban areas to empty out as everyone travels into the bush to their tribes. I wonder if Oden spent much time with the people groups he is writing about?
See you in Cape Town.
Stand firm,
M Webb