We Need A New Theology
This was the third time in my schooling that I have read, “Who Needs Theology?” by Stanley J. Grenz and Roger E. Olson. I love this book. Every time I read it I come away with something fresh about the way I look at “doing theology.” This time was no exception.
I always appreciate the authors’ assertion that we are all theologians, but this time I was struck by their idea that “not all theologies are equal” (22-35). These levels of theology are really helpful in explaining why I do what I do (study theology and leadership full-time) and why others, well, don’t. One is not better than the other. I work on the stuff that lay theologians and ministerial theologians use to study. I guess, according to Grenz and Olson, that makes me a professional theologian (32). I feel like my job is to study and write and teach people to study and write and teach. I think that is a pretty great job, especially as a part of my personal calling to tell people that sometimes “bad is better” (but that’s for another post).
I thought I had a lot to say about this chapter in the book until I wound my way toward the end and found something I highlighted and dated the first time I read this book in 2003: “A Christian is someone whose life makes it easier to believe in God. Good theology fosters this in us.” Wait, good theology is what helps us live a life that makes it easier for our neighbors to believe in God? Well if so many of us are doing theology at the ministerial and professional level, then why are so many people so disinterested in believing in God, much less knowing God intimately?
You know I couldn’t write a post this week without talking about the election, right? To say I’m struggling with the outcome would be a massive understatement. I’ve never experienced an election like this before. I’m used to people being disappointed and angry when their candidate loses, this time is different. On Wednesday, I did very little besides cry and communicate with people who are scared, angry, and or ready to quit. I cried because people I love are afraid for their well-being and their lives. These are STRONG people who have been fighting prejudices and biases their whole lives, but they aren’t sure they can fight this. Tonight, a queer friend told me that the little hope she had left is gone. She wants nothing to do with the church or God. Another friend told me that her child came home from school and asked why God hates Muslims. Apparently somebody told him that the “Christmas boxes guy” is friends with Trump and God told him Muslims are bad. I bet you all have stories that follow this same thread if you are friends with non-white people, Muslims, LGBTQ people, or immigrants. This may not be our theology, but it IS a theology being represented across this nation.
A few weeks ago, I was talking with a woman who told me that she is tired of Christians being persecuted and tired of people turning their backs on the church. I told her I don’t really attend church right now because I am still trying to get over some trauma I experienced in churches. I asked her how she saw persecution happening and she gave me a list of discomforts that don’t really amount to persecution but are more a loss of privilege. As I sat here on Wednesday reading triumphant posts from some of my friends (some of the 80% of white evangelicals) who voted for Trump, I realized that, for many of them, their joy is based on the hope that they will get their privilege back. They talk of returning to prosperity, prayer in schools, and having their tax dollars go to educational choice. They talk of protecting innocent unborn babies and not having to spend so much on insurance. They talk of legislating morality and they believe God is blessing these hopes through this election. This is such a stark contrast to those who are making contingency plans should they have no insurance or lose the government aid that helps them feed their children, or who are worried their immigration papers will be revoked, or who are walking their children to school this week because the taunts that “Trump is gonna send you back where you belong” are constant and loud. They are hoping God is still listening to them.
Something is wrong with our theology. As evangelicals, we used to be the voice of hope. We shared the good news of the present and coming Kingdom. We were the ones who built soup kitchens and worked to teach children how to read. We championed the orphans and the widows and offered refuge to the oppressed. What happened to us? When did we stop living in such a way that made it easy for our neighbors to believe in God?
About the Author
Kristin Hamilton
11 responses to “We Need A New Theology”
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A raw and honest post Kristin – thank you.
I hope that you are able to fall back in love with the church again in the future.
As Dorothy Day once wrote:
“As to the Church, where else shall we go, except to the Bride of Christ, one flesh with Christ? Though she is a harlot at times, she is our Mother.”
This is one of my all-time favorite quotes, Geoff (and Dorothy Day is a BOSS). It’s not that I don’t love the church anymore – I really do. When we left our last church bloodied and bruised I begged God to let me do work in a non-profit that had nothing to do with the church. I was reminded that my calling was to be a prophetic voice to a broken church and I entered Seminary (rather than a Masters in Teaching program) and then the DMin program. The truth is I feel like I’m standing with Jesus looking at Jerusalem and he is weeping because we as the church don’t see what we are doing to people. There isn’t an evangelical holiness church (my tradition) that would consider me for ordination right now because of my stance on LGBTQ* affirmation so I am content to love the church and speak to her with love and passion.
“We championed the orphans and the widows and offered refuge to the oppressed. What happened to us?”
Kristin, I am saddened too. At the risk of being overly simplistic, may I say that somehow Christians have decided to identify with the Republican party without being “reflective” or good “critical thinkers”?
As for losing sight of the Gospel of love and service, I’m afraid that even us Christians (I’m speaking generically) have bought into the world’s system of comforts and convenience. We are looking out for #1. We have forgotten – “Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you“(James 1:27, NLT).
I loved the part in the book too, that said that our lives should be something that makes our neighbor want to know more about Christianity. I’m afraid we lost some ground recently. My only hope is to try and be faithful in my little corner of the world.
“Please, Lord Jesus, help me to serve You unselfishly.”
What a great prayer, Mary. I think you are right that we have opted for comfort and convenience without reflection on who we are called to be in Christ. That verse from James has set heavy with me since our time with Krish at the Advance. I know so many great evangelical (and other traditions) churches who do this work, but it is overshadowed by the noise of a quest for political power and an insistence on having our “rights.”
Kristen, You were able to right much more – and better – than I was able to. Thank you for that. Obviously, this election and it’s ramifications are so raw for many of us that it was inevitably going to seep into the posts this week, but I do think that the topic of theology is central to helping us think about all of this stuff: what we think about who God is and how we are supposed to interact with God is – if we are really trying to live according to our beliefs about God – central to how we engage politically, what we fight for or against, etc.
One might also argue that a critical first step in evaluating our theology might be determining what we are making ‘Lord’ of our lives….. but that might be a bit judgmental.
Finally, really, really love the quote about a Christian being someone whose life makes it easier to believe in God – that is some good stuff right there. Thanks again.
We probably need to be a little judgmental, Chip, at least with ourselves. I was so upset after the election that I had to ask myself, “Am I upset because this guy won, or because I believe the work of Jesus lost a little bit today?” My next self-reflection became, “Well what are you going to do about it?” I wanted to leave. I wanted to call people names, crawl into bed, and never get up again. But that dang self-reflection thing and the voice of the Holy Spirit checked my privilege and called me back to read the Sermon on the Mount. I really believe this is part of doing theology. We wrestle with who we believe God is and what we believe God is asking us to be. It’s stinking inconvenient.
Man, I love your heart and passion friend.
I, too, am trying to sort out my relationship to the evangelical church right now, with this election being a tough catalyst. Here are some stories that make it really hard for me to simply dismiss my evangelical friends, most of whom, I imagine, voted for the president-elect:
* a church in the midwest that feeds people who are homeless every single Sunday for over 15 years (even when Christmas Day falls on a Sunday), who knows them all by name, builds relationships, picks them up for worship. Who helps people who’ve been homeless find housing, get baptized, go on mission trips, reunite with families. That’s commitment to the marginalized.
* a church who works with single moms in a gang-infested neighborhood, helping these parents learn how to build strong families. Who celebrate with kids who’ve stayed out of gangs and improved in school by letting them “earn” Thanksgiving dinners for their families.
There are many things these congregations do not do well, many people who do not feel welcomed there. But I want to be hopeful that in some small ways, their witnesses have made it easier for someone to believe in God.
I share your hope, Katy. I know so many evangelical congregations that do good in their communities and remain committed to loving the world. These are the congregations that keep me tethered to evangelicalism even if I find it hard to identify with that moniker any more because of the damage being done.
I don’t want to abandon the church or dismantle it, I want to see these small examples take over until the norm is for people in all communities to see the love of God shining.
Some great thoughts, Kristen. At the Multi-ethnic Church Conference last week, one of the topics was how our eschatology affects our desire to engage in social justice.
For example, if I believe that Jesus is coming to rescue me before it all goes up in flames, then I may not spend a lot of my time engaging in issues of justice.
On the other hand, if I believe that Jesus is coming to create his Kingdom “on earth as it is in Heaven,” then I will be fervent at engaging in political and social issues. ‘
Your post reminded me how our theology affects our practice.
Well said, Stu. This is such a good point. I saw many times this week, “I’m just passing through” and “The earth isn’t my home” and “Grateful that my future is in heaven, not here.” It is very easy to wash our hands of politics if we don’t consider ourselves actual citizens (except when our own rights are infringed upon).
Absolutely right, Stu!
I’d love to recommend Richard Middleton’s book, A New Heaven and a New Earth: Reclaiming Biblical Eschatology (https://www.amazon.com/New-Heaven-Earth-Reclaiming-Eschatology/dp/0801048680/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1479103958&sr=8-1&keywords=9780801048685) to read in your spare time. He writes about ethics as “lived eschatology” and what we mean by salvation, and eschewing our triumphalist assumptions. He suggests “Judgment is ultimately not for destruction, but rather for transformation. (See Isaiah 2, Is 60)” Much goodness and conviction.