[p.4]
R. Paul Stevens is the Academic Dean and
Associate Professor of Applied Theology, Regent College, Vancouver, B.C.
I believe in Christianity as I believe that the
Sun has risen - not only because I see it but because by it I see everything
else. - C.S. Lewis
Living theologically - my title is an oxymoron, like black light,
constructive criticism, or servant leadership - two ideas that normally do not
belong together. What has theology to do with everyday life?
Theology is usually considered an abstract discipline. It is
rational, reducible to propositions, and capable of being categorized (liberal,
conservative, evangelical, Reformed, liberation). It is not usually thought of
as practical. People in business, law, the professions and the trades often
regard the study of theology as a process of becoming progressively irrelevant.
The hardest words of critique are offered by insiders. For example, Lesslie
Newbigin says:
Christian men and women who are deeply involved
in secular affairs view theology as the arcane pursuit of professional
clergymen. This withdrawal of theology from the world of secular affairs is
made all the more complete by the work of biblical scholars whose endlessly
fascinating exercises have made it appear to the lay Christian that no one
untrained in their methods can really understand anything the Bible says. We
are in a situation analogous to one about which the great Reformers
complained...1
Theology! God-words. God-study. God-thought.
Then there is life! Everyday life. Getting up in the morning life.
Paying the bills life. Watching a hockey game life. Trying to find a job life.
Trying to say 'I love you' to your spouse life. Raising a family in a
postmodern culture life. Computers, credit cards, freeways, gridlock, virtual
reality, running a small business, movies, the economy, racial tension, sexual
appetite, recession, radar imaging from satellites, fashion, television,
ambition, workaholism, debt, prayer, Bible study, theological discourse - what
do these have in common?
It should be obvious that I am pleading for a different definition
of theology than what is commonly thought, one closer to the Bible.2
Such is supplied by the Puritan William Perkins, who said, 'Theology is the
science of living blessedly forever'.3 J.I. Packer,
in the same tradition, says that theology is for achieving God's glory (honour
and praise) and humankind's good (the godliness that is true humanness) through
every life-activity.4 If these definitions come
close to capturing the biblical approach to theological education then the only
theology that is truly Christian is one being applied. I would not want to be a
professor of unapplied theology! One reason is that the movement of the Bible
is always from the indicative to the imperative, from doctrine to duty, from
kerygma to didache, from theology to ethics, from revealed truth to
extraordinary living. Francis of Assisi once said that humankind has as much
knowledge as it has executed. That means that what you really know - in the
fully biblical and Hebraic sense - is what you live. You have passed some
examinations and written some academic papers. But these are trivial tests
compared with life itself. For example, James Houston recently suggested at a
pastors' conference that the curriculum vitae of a pastor is usually written on
the face of his wife. There was a stunned silence among the predominantly male
audience.
In this paper I will explore the life-theology connection by
looking through three lenses, each providing a way of looking at the rich
connection designed by God but largely fragmented in contemporary theological
education.
1. Orthodoxy
Orthodoxy is made up of two words, one of which meaning 'straight'
or 'right' (from which we get the English word orthodontist, the person who
makes straight teeth) and the Greek word for 'glory' or 'worship' - doxa.
Doctrine that lines itself up (ortho) with Scripture is designed to
be a blessing to everyday life and, at the same time, to bless God
(doxa) in life itself. It aims, as Packer says, at true godliness that
is true humanness.
Redeeming the routine5
The whole of our life has the glorious prospect of living out the
great doctrines of the faith. The doctrine of the Trinity, for example, directs
God-imaging creatures to live relationally. Those who proclaim that God is love
are invited to be included in the love-life of God and so become lovers
themselves Qn. 17:21). To believe in God the creator is to accept trusteeship
of the earth. The incarnation revolutionizes our attitude to things and
promotes a radical Christian materialism. The atonement equips us to live
mercifully. Ecclesiology evokes the experience of peoplehood, living as the
laos of God rather than a bouquet of individual believers. Eschatology
teaches us to view time as a gift of God rather than a resource to be
managed.
All of this involves straight thought. Far from denigrating
thought, the Bible invites us to love God with our minds (Mt. 22:37) by
thinking comprehensively (taking the whole into consideration, including
paradox, ambiguity and the aesthetic), thinking critically (not allowing our
minds to be conformed to this age), thinking devotedly (by taking captive every
thought to make it obedient to Christ - 2 Cor. 10:5). The fruit of such
thinking should be a blessing for everyday life. Thinking Christianly is part
of the 'science of living blessedly forever'.
The danger of unapplied theology
But orthodoxy involves more than merely speaking correctly
about God. We could do that and still be damned, like the friends of Job
- Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar - who spoke with impeccable correctness about God
but in the end received God's judgment: 'I am angry with you [Eliphaz] and your
two friends, because you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job
has' (Job 42:7). Remarkably, God judged Job as orthodox and his friends (who
could have had degrees from both Fuller and Regent) as heretics. Why? It is not
only a fascinating question but a vital one.
A careful study of the book of Job reveals that the only authentic
theologian in the book was Job himself. The reason is sublimely simple: while
the friends talked about God, Job talked to God. P.T. Forsyth
says that 'the best theology is compressed prayer'.6 While Job's friends delivered their lectures about God,
Job talked to God, and in so speaking - with all his holy boldness - he spoke
well of God. His theology was orthodox. We will return to this later.
The danger of mere intellectual orthodoxy is that we are tempted
to think we can manage God. Our doctrines then become idols - static, fixed and
inflexible. According to Psalm 115:8, 'those who make [such idols] will be like
them'. They will
[p.5]
become people who are static, inflexible and unsurprising. In
contrast, the Lord 'does whatever pleases him' (115:3). And those who worship
the Lord become free and spontaneous. God can never be contained by the human
mind. If he could then God would be too puny a God to be worshipped. The point
of theology is to understand God (to stand under God in reverent awe),
not to over-stand God by attempting to control him through theological
discourse. Much that passes for theological education is the extension of the
tree of knowledge of good and evil through history offering the temptation to
transcend our creatureliness. True worship is the opposite invitation.
Orthodoxy welcomes mystery and confesses with Job, 'these are but the outskirts
of his ways' (Job 26:14 KJV). As Robert Capon said: 'The work of theology in
our day is not so much interpretation as contemplation... God and the world
need to be held up for oohs and ahhs before they can be safely analyzed.
Theology begins with admiration, not problems.'7 So
orthodoxy is about worshipful living.
Truthful living for God's glory
Doctrine that does not lead to doxology is demonic (Jas. 2:19).
That is why those who set out together on a theological education experience
are on a dangerous journey. We must make sure we are heading in the right
(orthodox) direction. The goal of biblical theological education is to increase
our love for God and to make us more human. For this reason the academy must
work in partnership with the church and the marketplace since there is in these
real-life ministry and life situations a built-in reality check. More
important, there is a built-in love check. We cannot learn to love the church
as Christ does (Eph. 5:25) without being in both Christ and the church. The
church cannot be loved in absentia the way some people get their
degrees. The congregation is essential for our God-given goal of forming people
who will worship God through preaching, examining a balance sheet, preparing a
family meal, praying with a friend, pruning their rose bushes, and equipping
the saints.8 According to Ephesians the purpose of
congregation and life-based education is that the saints will live for the
praise of God's glory (1:12, 14) - that is, to live doxologically.
So, looking at the theology and everyday life connection through
the lens of orthodoxy, we see that the great doctrines of the faith beg for
application. They bless everyday life. They point us simultaneously to the
adoration of God and to the possibility of living a genuinely human existence.
But we must now look through a second lens - orthopraxy - to discover what is
involved in the connection of theology and daily life. Orthopraxy literally
means right or straight practice.
2. Orthopraxy
We are in desperate need today of a theology of good works,
especially evangelicals. We are saved by grace and not by works - that is the
gospel. Further, faith without works is dead - and that is part of the gospel
too. But how can people saved by grace work? What is right practice? When is a
work Christian?
Humanizing theological living
Is it evangelism, preaching, pastoral care, counselling - all the
subjects loosely called 'applied theology' or 'ministry division' courses? I
can only point in passing to the fine piece of analysis done on right practice
by Craig Dykstra.9 Dykstra notes the ubiquitous
tension between the so-called academic fields of theology, Bible, history,
ethics (disciplines in which practice is thought to have no intrinsic place) -
and the applied theology division which is often relegated, in some people's
minds, to 'how to' techniques for clergy. It is now widely recognized in
theological circles that we must break out of the dichotomy of practical skills
and theoretical knowledge. Perhaps we will never resolve the tension. Indeed,
we may better speak of useful and fruitful tension as we work on integration.
As we do this we can put the question differently along these lines: what is
theological about praxis and what is practical about theology?
In contrast to the dichotomizing of theology and practice in the
theological academy today, the NT presupposes a community in which every person
is a theologian of application, trying to make sense out of his or her life in
order to live for the praise of God's glory.10 On
the most basic level orthopraxy is about practices that are in harmony with
God's kingdom in the church and world, that bring value and good into the
world. It is not obvious, however, that one cannot do the doctrine fully in a
classroom or library, or learn the doctrine in the classroom and do it later.
Instead of training for ministry and then going into it, we assume you should
not 'go into the ministry' unless you are already 'in it'. The best education
is education in ministry and not just for it. It is transformative not
preparatory.11 Behind this is an important
principle of spiritual theology: any attempt to know God apart from the
activities of life is unreal.12 My own experience
is illustrative. After two years in theological college I was suffering from
academic burn-out. My wife and I moved into the slums of Montreal and tried to
serve God in an inner-city church while I continued my M. Div. part-time. This
rejuvenated my theological education. I engaged every course with questions
that came out of daily ministry and our immersion in the poverty of the city.
This points to a truth we must explore, that there is more to orthopraxis than
application. There is revelation and illumination.
Knowing through doing
There is a growing critique of the traditional linear,
cause-effect approach in theological education: first you get the theology and
then you apply it. In contrast, we must aim at a circle of learning: theory
expressed in practice, which leads to deeper theoretical/theological
reflection, which leads to praxis again, and on it goes. We should speak of
this as a spiral of learning as we keep re-entering each phase at a deeper
level.13 Obviously by relegating praxis to the
post-academy experience we are shortchanging learning. Perhaps this is easier
to grasp in Africa or Asia than in the West. The orthodoxy-orthopraxy tension
in the West reflects the intrinsic dualism of Western civilization, and the
lingering effects of the Enlightenment.
In contrast, the Bible invites us to wholistic living that
embraces propositional truth, as well as truth learned through image,
imagination and action, all a seamless robe. For example, the apostle Paul
hammered out his doctrine of justification by faith in the context of the
Gentile mission. He was a missionary theologian. Ray S. Anderson notes, 'Paul's
theology and mission were directed more by the Pentecost event which unleashed
the Spirit of Christ through apostolic witness rather than through apostolic
office. This praxis of Pentecost became for Paul the "school" for theological
reflection.'14 The gospels point to the same unity
of knowledge. Many of the commands of Jesus link revelation with obedience: 'If
you obey my commands, you will remain in my love' (Jn. 15:10); 'If you hold to
my teaching, you are really my disciples' (8:31); 'If anyone keeps my word, he
will never see death' (8:51). Sometimes Jesus invited people to 'believe this';
more often Jesus said 'do this and you will live' (Lk. 10:28; see also Mt.
19:21). Especially in the Gospel of Luke Jesus teaches that obedient action is
the organ of further revelation. If they do not obey the law and the prophets,
he said, 'they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead' (Lk.
16:31). He puts these words on the lips of Abraham in the parable of the Rich
Man and Lazarus and proclaims that even his resurrection from the grave will
have no evidential apologetic value if they are not acting on the light they
have. We know more through doing what we already know.
Biblical theological education is not inert theology and
unreflective action but 'praxis-laden theory' and 'theory-laden praxis'.15 Immanuel Kant said something similar when he offered
the maxim that experience without theory is blind but theory without experience
is mere intellectual play.16 What we can learn by
doing is much more than simple technique. Every action has implicit theory just
as every theory has implicit action. So theological reflection in
ministry or a societal occupation is essential to living theologically. But in
these things we are not trying to squeeze blood from a rock. Daily life is
bursting with theological meaning just as theological truth is laden with
blessing for daily life. God can be known and loved through praxis in the
realities of everyday life. What a strange marriage psychology would require
one to love fully and only then to kiss, rather than to kiss in order to love!
What a strange perversion of the Christian life that would forbid one to act
until one knows, and not act in order to know! We are formed theologically not
only by reading and reasoning but by action and by service.
[p.6]
My own story may be illustrative. I abandoned professional
ministry at thirty-eight years of age, took up the trade of carpentry for five
years and planted a church. It proved to be a theological education immersion
experience. I learned theology through that.17 I
prayed as much as a carpenter as I did as a pastor, possibly more, because I
was so frequently beyond my comfort zone. But the experience deepened my
theology and spirituality. Indeed, as Eberhard Jüngel said, 'Everything
can become the theme of theology on the basis of its relation to God.'18 In this we have a clue to our basic question - what
makes practice Christian?
Inside Christian practice
What makes an activity Christian is not the husk but the heart.
Preaching, caring for the flock and equipping the saints can be profoundly
secular. Listening to a child, designing a software package, and examining a
balance sheet can be profoundly Christian. What makes a work Christian is
faith, hope and love. This is a crucial point. Orthopraxy is not merely
accomplished by the skilful performance of ministerial duties like leading
Bible studies, praying for the sick and doing acts of justice. This
misunderstanding has seduced many non-clergy laity to aspire to ministerial
duties in order to be 'doing ministry'. They become paraclergy instead of
regarding their ordinary service in the world as full-time ministry. It is not
the religious character of the work that makes service Christian but the
interiority of it. William Tyndale said, 'There is no work better than another
to please God; to pour water, to wash dishes, to be a souter [cobbler], or an
apostle, all are one, as touching the deed, to please God.'19 I can preach a sermon to impress people; I can fix our
shower door at home for the glory of God. I have probably done both. The
difference is faith.
Luther deals with this brilliantly in his Treatise on Good
Works. He uses the analogy of husband and wife as an example of the
Christian practices that spring from gospel confidence. Where the husband is
confident of his acceptance he does not have to do big things to win his wife's
favour. In the same way the person who lives by the gospel 'simply serves God
with no thought of reward, content that his service pleases God. On the other
hand, he who is not at one with God, or is in a state of doubt, worries and
starts looking for ways and means to do enough and to influence God with his
many good works'.20 Faith defines orthopraxy.
Faith by definition cannot be calculating, or even self-evaluative, just as the
eye cannot look at itself, designed as it is for looking at another. When the
eye is single or sound the whole of one's bodily life is filled with the light
of Christ (Lk. 11:34-36). Life centred on God transforms the ordinary into the
extraordinary so we discover what Alfons Auer described as 'the sense of
transparency in worldly matters'21
The unselfconsciousness of such faith is the matter raised by the
disturbing parable of the sheep and the goats (Mt. 25:31-46). The unrighteous
protest that if they had seen Jesus in the poor, hungry or stranger, even if
they had known Jesus was disguised in the poor, they would gladly have done a
service directly to the Lord. So the unrighteous are surprised that their
failure to love their neighbour was a failure to love Jesus. They would have
gladly done Christian practices for Jesus but not for others! Apparently that
is not enough. In contrast the righteous found to their exquisite surprise that
what they did not regard as a ministry to Jesus (but just loving their
neighbour) turned out to be a Christian practice approved by the Lord. They too
protest, 'Lord, when did we see you, hungry, naked and thirsty, and feed you?'
Jesus says, 'Whatever you did for one of the least of these my brothers, you
did for me' (25:40). We onlookers are caught up in the parable and are
surprised also by the implication that compassionate actions (surely
intrinsically Christian practices) are Christian precisely because they did not
have a spiritual reward in view! They are Christian, Luther would say, because
they arise from gospel confidence, from the generosity of a heart set free by
acceptance in Christ. It is this element of surprise for which we are least
prepared when we ponder the parable. Perhaps the purpose of theological
education is to set us up to be as surprised as the righteous on the day of
judgment to discover we acted in love without knowing it was for and to
Jesus.
True Christian action - orthopraxy - is gratuitive, free from
contrivance, free from a calculating spirit, free from contract - I do this for
God and he does that for me. Orthopractic living is essentially spontaneous.
With Jesus in our hearts we love because there is someone in need, not to gain
approval by God or to receive the benefits of Christian action. This is the
issue behind the question that dominates the book of Job. Satan said, 'Does Job
serve God for nothing?' (Job 1:9). In the end our own service to God can be
tested by the same probing question. One of the great lessons of the book of
Job is this: Job proves that faith is not for the this-life benefits of having
faith. Not for healing (indeed he never even prays for healing); not for the
restoration of his fortunes (this comes after he meets God again). Faith is for
the glory of God. Christian practice, whether developing a compensation package
for a business or empowering the poor, is for God's glory. The South American
liberation theologian Gustavo Gutierrez comments on this insightfully (and
remarkably in view of his theological orientation):
The truth that [Job] has grasped and that has
lifted him to the level of contemplation is that justice alone does not have
the final say about how we are to speak of God. Only when we have come to
realize that God's love is freely bestowed do we enter fully and definitively
into the presence of the God of faith... God's love, like all true love,
operates in a world not of cause and effect but of freedom and
gratuitiveness.'22
Orthopraxy is action in harmony with God's purposes in which we
can discover God and his truth. Orthopraxy is not necessarily clerical, though
it includes the work of the pastor. Whether washing dishes or preaching, being
a cobbler or an apostle, 'all is one, as touching the deed, to please God'.
Orthopraxis is not measured by excellence, by efficiency, or by its religious
character, but by faith, hope and love. We must cultivate the heart and not
merely the husk of such action. But that points to a third lens through which
to investigate the theology-life connection: orthopathy.
Orthopathy literally means right passion. The word was coined by
Dr Richard Mouw. There is also a hint in the writings of the Jewish author
Abraham Heschel who said the prophets embodied the divine pathos, that is, what
God cares for.
3. Orthopathy
The cultivation of the heart - a more wholistic way of knowing -
is the very thing our postmodern culture is inviting.23 But the biblical response to the postmodern challenge
is not to abandon reason but to allow God to evangelize our hearts as well as
our heads, to care for what God cares for. As Micah said, 'He has showed you, O
man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to
love mercy and to walk humbly with your God' (Mi. 6:8). How can theological
education cultivate these? Such orthopathic education would require healing the
fragmentation of theological knowledge and recovering the view promoted in the
Middle Ages that theology is a habitus,24 a
disposition of the soul. As a practical knowledge of God unifying head and
heart, theology has the character of wisdom. But where do we get
wisdom?
Educating the heart
It is often conceded that the academy cannot be a solo educator,
but there is little evidence that the academy needs the home, the congregation
and the marketplace, though all four are linked by God in a daily life system
for learning. The first school, of course, is the home. The congregation and
the academy are poor substitutes when it comes to the education of the heart. I
refer to my own orthopathic education in a story I develop in Disciplines of
the Hungry Heart.
Though my parents never intended it, their spiritual nurturing
included exposing me to the ministry of the poor to the rich. They built our
lovely family home on a three-acre plot next door to a one-room shack without
water, electricity, indoor plumbing or a furnace. Albert Jupp lived with his
aged and ill mother in that smelly, dank shack. As he was occupied with the
care of his mother, Albert was unable to hold down a steady job. Somehow he
eked out an existence beside the Stevens, his rich next-door neighbours. Today
the rich hardly see the poor except on television or from an air-conditioned
tour bus.
Each night Albert would get a pail of water at our outside tap,
which was always kept running, even in the dead of winter when our neighbours
had their taps safely protected from freezing. My mother was one of the most
generous souls on
[p.7]
earth, and her sensitive conscience would not allow her to set a
fine meal before our family without thinking of Albert and his mother. So night
after night I was asked to make a pilgrimage up the hill to the shack with two
portions from our table for our poor neighbours. I confess that as a teenager I
usually resented doing this. But what I think was bothering me was how that
nightly visit to the Jupps made me think about my own existence as a rich young
man. Daily I was confronted existentially with the truth that the rich cannot
know God well without relating to the poor. My neighbour made an evangelical
invitation to my heart.
In a remarkable series of seven sermons on the parable of the Rich
Man and Lazarus, the fourth-century Church Father John Chrysostom addressed the
illusions of wealth. In these prophetic sermons, Chrysostom argues that the
rich are not owners of their wealth but stewards for the poor.25 Appealing to the prophets of the OT (Mal. 3:8-10),
Chrysostom warns about the spiritual dangers of the rich. 'The most pitiable
person of all', he says, 'is the one who lives in luxury and shares his goods
with nobody.'26 In contrast, 'by nourishing
Christ in poverty here and laying up great profit hereafter we will be able
to attain the good things which are to come'.27 In
this last quotation Chrysostom hints that ministering to the poor
simultaneously heals the hearts of the rich and nourishes Jesus. What should be
observed is the truth that God has provided for the education of our hearts in
love and compassion through our everyday family experiences and through our
neighbour. Both are a means of grace.
Neighbour as educator
As we have already seen, the neighbour becomes a means of grace
precisely when the neighbour is taken seriously as neighbour and not as a means
of grace! We cannot simply deal with the poor, the stranger and the outsider in
principle, or engage in theoretical or strategic considerations of how to care
for our global neighbours. It is in the context of actual
neighbour-relationships that we are invited to live the life of faith. It is
precisely in the unplanned and uncontrollable circumstances of our lives that
we can find God and be found by him. Bonhoeffer spoke to this with great depth
in a conversation he reports he had with a young French pastor.
I discovered later, and I'm still discovering
right up to this moment, that it is only by living completely in this world
that one learns to have faith... By this worldliness I mean living unreservedly
in life's duties, problems, successes and failures, experiences and
perplexities. In so doing we throw ourselves completely into the arms of
God.28
We find God (and get our hearts educated) in the centre of life
rather than the circumference. This was the case for Job.
Passion for God
Job is a stunning example of orthopathy. His school was his life.
He, like David, was a man after God's own heart. As he went through test after
test, sometimes with obvious weariness, Job began to want God more than he
wanted health. Indeed - and this is seldom noted - Job never asked for healing.
What he wanted was the friendship of God (Job 29:4). So most of Job's speeches
are directed to God, inquiring of God, challenging God, exploring God,
demanding of God, confronting God with holy persistence (Jas. 5:11). At times I
think his orthodox friends with degrees from Regent and Fuller may have hid
under the table expecting God to liquidate him for his impertinence. But in the
end the God-talkers were condemned and Job was justified, being blessed with a
first-hand experience of God (42:5). Was this because Job spoke well of God
(the primary theological task) by speaking to him boldly, with passionate
faith (the primary theological method)?
Job used his experience of the absence of God in order to know God
better. P.T. Forsyth once said, 'Prayer is to the religious life what original
research is for science - by it we get direct contact with reality.'29 Job was not a half-hearted researcher. He took God on,
like Abraham pleading, Jacob refusing to let God go until he had blessed him,
like the Syro-Phoenician woman begging for crumbs under the table, like Paul
asking three times for the thorn to be removed, like - dare we say it? - Jesus
in the garden exploring his own heart options with the Father until he could
freely do the Father's will through submission rather than compliance. Job
withstanding God, wrestling with God, extracting revelation from God and in the
end knowing God - is this orthopathy? Is this proof positive that the kingdom
of God is not for the mildly interested but the desperate? God-knowers
(orthodox, orthopractic theologians) will 'take' the kingdom by violent,
passionate (orthopathic) faith (Mt. 11:12). Luther described the qualifications
of a theologian this way: 'living, or rather dying and being damned make a
theologian, not understanding, reading or speculating'.30 By undergoing the torment of the cross, death and hell,
true theology and the knowledge of God come about. Job, the OT theologian,
would say 'Amen'. Caring for what concerns God, caring for God's concerns in
daily life, and caring for God above all - this is orthopathy.
In conclusion
Orthodoxy. Orthopraxy. Orthopathy. All three point to the marriage
of theology and everyday life: theology and life linked in praise (orthodoxy),
practice (orthopraxy) and passion (orthopathy). What God therefore has joined
together let no theological institution put asunder.
Might not the most pernicious heresy in the church today be the
disharmony between those who claim to be theologically approved but live as
practical atheists? Is the greatest challenge not graduating from Regent or
Fuller, but in the end, at the conclusion of our life-long theological
education, having the Lord say, 'I know you'? Would not the most fearful
failure be to have God say, 'I never knew you' (Mt. 7:23; 25:12)?
One of the Desert Fathers was approached by an eager young student
who said, 'Abba, give me a word from God.' The wise mentor asked if the student
would agree not to come back until he had fully lived the word.
'Yes,' the eager young student said.
'Then this is the word of God: "You shall love the Lord your God
with all your heart, soul, strength and mind." 'The young man disappeared, it
seemed forever.
Twenty-five years later the student had the temerity to come back.
'I have lived the word you gave. Do you have another word?'
'Yes,' said the Desert Father. 'But once again you must not come
back until you have lived it.'
'I agree.'
'Love your neighbour as yourself.'
The student never came back.
References
1 Lesslie Newbigin,
Foolishness to the Greeks: The Gospel and Western Culture (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1986), pp. 142-143.
2 The working
definition of theological education developed within the Coalition for the
Ministry in Daily Life is as follows: 'Theological education for all the people
of God is the life-long, life-based (rooted in life and not abstracted), and
life-oriented (directed toward the totality of life) process of forming and
transforming persons, communities, organizations and institutions into
Christian maturity for the purpose of serving God and God's purposes in the
world' 'Consultation on Ministry in Daily Life: Task Group Report', 14
November, 1992).
3 'The Golden Chain
(1592), in Ian Breward (ed.), The Work of William Perkins
(Appleford: Courtney Press, 1970), p. 177.
4 From a lecture at
Regent College, Vancouver, B.C., September 1992.
5 This is the title of
the excellent book by my friend Robert Banks (Wheaton: Victor Books,
1993).
6 P.T. Forsyth, The
Soul of Prayer (London: The Independent Press, 1916 / 1954), p.
11.
7 Robert Farrar Capon,
An Offering of Uncles: The Priesthood of Adam and the Shape of the World
(New York: Crossroad, 1982), p. 163.
8 A strand of witness
through the OT and NT points to education in the thick of life and in the
context of daily ministry: the family as the primary educational unit; the
reinforcement of public festivals; structured patterns of instruction through
creeds and stories; the schools of the prophets; congregational instruction in
the synagogue; the disciple community around Jesus engaged in action as well as
withdrawal for reflection; Paul's travelling seminary with his missionary
co-workers (Timothy, Gaius, Tychicus and Trophimus); the Hall of Tyrannus as
education in the marketplace (Acts 19:9-10); and the local household churches,
undoubtedly the primary place for the education of the whole people of
God.
9 Craig Dykstra,
'Reconceiving Practice', in Barbara Wheeler and Edward Farley (eds),
Shifting Boundaries (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster/John Knox, 1991),
pp. 35-36. Dykstra defines a Christian practice (as distinct from activities)
as inherently cooperative (not a solo action), inherently good (generates
value), and inherently revelatory (bears epistemological weight). Unfortunately
he then lists as Christian practices those activities which could appear
obviously to be done in the name of Jesus: interpreting Scripture, worship and
prayer, confession and reconciliation, service, witness, social criticism, and
the mutual bearing of suffering (pp. 45, 48).
10 While the Bible
offers several models of and contexts for theological education, there are some
consistent themes: (1) it is community-oriented rather than individualistic;
(2) cooperative rather than competitive; (3) life-centred rather than
school-based; (4) transformational rather than exclusively informational; (5)
life-long rather than seasonal, packaged and concentrated; (6) available to all
the people of God rather than to a clerical elite; and (7) concerned with
equipping the people of God both for service in the church (the ecclesia)
and for societal service to God (the diaspora).
11 Extensive research
and theological reflection on the congregation as the centre for spiritual and
theological formation has recently taken place. Representative of this are the
following: Craig Dykstra, 'Reconceiving Practice', in Barbara Wheeler and
Edward Farley (eds), Shiftiing Boundaries (Louisville, Kentucky:
Westminster/John Knox, 1991); Edward Farley, Theologia: The Fragmentation
and Unity of Theological Education (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983);
Joseph C. Hough and Barbara Wheeler (eds), Beyond Clericalism: The
Congregation as a Focus for Theological Education (Atlanta: Scholars Press,
1988).
12 I attribute this
thought to a formative paper delivered by Dr F.W. Waters in 1962, 'Knowing God
Through Thinking and Service', a presentation that started my own journey of
integration.
13 See Max
Stackhouse's discussion of theoria, praxis and poesis in Max
Stackhouse, Apologia: Contextualization, Globalization, and Mission in
Theological Education (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988). His approach does not
negate the importance of straighl thinking: indeed, he critiques liberation
theology for its faulty theoria on pp. 84-105.
14 Ray S. Anderson,
The Praxis of Pentecost: Revisioning the Church's Life and Mission
(Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1993), p. 196.
15 Philip S. Keane and
Melanie A. May, 'What Is the Character of Teaching, Learning, and the Scholarly
Task in the Good Theological School?', Theological Education XXX ( No. 2
(Spring 1994), p. 40.
16 Quoted in Ludwig
von Bertalanffy, General System Theory (New York: George Braziller,
1968), p. 101.
17 The reflection that
was inspired by this practice is documented in Liberating the Laity
(Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1985).
18 Eberhard Jungel,
The Freedom of a Christian: Luther's Significance for Contemporary Theology
(Minneapolis: Augsburg Press, 1988), p. 22.
19 William Tyndale, 'A
Parable of the Wicked Mammon' (1527), in Treatises and Portions of Holy
Scripture (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1848), pp. 98, 104.
20 Martin Luther,
'Treatise on Good Works', WA. Lambert (trans.), James Atkinson (ed.),
Luther's Works Vol. 44 (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966), pp.
26-27.
21 Auer, op. cit.,
p. 230 (italics mine).
22 'Gustavo Gutierrez,
On Job: God-Talk and the Suffering of the Innocent, trans. Matthew J.
O'Connell (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1987/88), p. 87.
23 See Stanley J.
Grenz, 'Star Trek and the Next Generation: Postmodernism and the Future of
Evangelical Theology Today', Crux XXX No. 1 (March 1994), pp.
24-32.
24 Farley,
'Interpreting Situations', p. 18.
25 St John Chrysostom,
On Wealth and Poverty, trans. Catherine P. Roth (Crestwood, NY: St
Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1984), p. 50.
26 Ibid., p.
57.
27 Ibid., p.
55, emphasis mine.
28 Dietrich Bonhoeffer
in a letter from Tegel Prison 1944, quoted in Melanie Morrison, 'As One Who
Stands Convicted', Sojourners, May 1979, p. 15.
29 P.T. Forsyth,
op. cit., p. 78.
30 D.M. Luthers
Werke: Kritische Gesamtaugabe (Weimar, 1993-), 5. 163: 28-29, quoted in
Alister E. McGrath, Luther's Theology of the Cross: Martin Luther's
Theological Breakthrough (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1985), p.
152.
© 1995 R. Paul Stevens. Reproduced by
permission. |