Thinking Deeper on Systematic Theology and Biblical Theology

I'm carrying on a series of earlier posts (see here) reviewing some of the essays from McGowan’s Always Reforming: Explorations in systematic theology (Leicester: APOLLOS, 2006). Next up are the two related essays by Stephen Williams, ‘Observations on the Future of System’, p. 41-66, and Richard Gamble, ‘The Relationship between Biblical Theology and Systematic Theology’, p.211-239.

Using the topic of the Calvinist-Arminian dispute as a starting point and drawing on the works of Charles Simeon, Williams highlights the following key points in his essay: Firstly, that when one looks hard at his or her convictions in systematic theology, one discovers that coherence of convictions often happen in what he terms as the ‘religious (and if we may add piety) context’ of systematic theology over the ‘speculative context’ (p.45). In another words, as he states elsewhere, “Life, rather than thought, is the zone where coherence is demonstrated.” (p.52). Secondly, Williams advocates that systematic theology should follow the lead of biblical theology in being concerned more about the relation of particular doctrines to life than the mutual relation of doctrines (p.49). This leads in to the third point – that there may be a ‘wider system’ than what our individual ‘traditions’ of systematic theology has to offer us. If so, such a ‘wider system’ should be uncovered in relation to biblical literary genres and salvation history (p.53). Finally, we should be more concerned about ‘doctrinal rules’ (of engagement) rather than ‘doctrinal moves’. He states, “What matters is the notion that moves that we make within the body of doctrinal rules should not be the primary focus of our theological attention if theology is geared to worship, obedience, proclamation and service. The rules are what matters most.” (p.59).

In Gamble’s essay, he begins by first defining theology and the characteristics of scriptural revelation – how it is historically progressive, involves redemption, has a historic-organic nature to it, and how it consists of different literary genres. Gamble then goes on to explore the relationship between systematic theology and biblical theology, and his conviction comes clearly across – “[...] biblical theology is and should be considered the natural, proper, and even exclusive, structural framework for systematic theology.” (p.228). This would mean a ‘major recasting of most systematic loci or topics’ (p.226). Gamble recognises the ‘classical method’ of structuring systematic theology used at the time of the Reformation, and that this method has somewhat been largely passed onto us. The implication of allowing biblical theology to ground and drive our systematic theology would be that a more ‘objective’ way of arranging the topics or subjects in systematic theology – one that ‘comes from within [the bible’s] own pages’ (p.238). Unfortunately and disappointingly, Gamble stops short here in showing us or giving us a model of how this could be done.

There is a common trend observed in both essays – and that is a call for systematic theology to be more grounded in biblical exegesis within the context of a recognition of salvation history (i.e. biblical theology). Gamble has rightfully pointed out that at least one implication of the above conviction would be a rethinking of the loci or topics of systematic theology. Interestingly, in another book I’m currently reading, Michael Goheen and Craig Bartholomew, Living at the Crossroads: An Introduction to Christian Worldview (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008), actually propose four levels of engagement when one reads Scripture – firstly, Scripture itself. Secondly, biblical theology which traces out the narrative shape of the biblical story. Thirdly, as one considers the narrative shape of Scripture, what one finds is a Christian worldview which sets out the main elements of beliefs that constitute the biblical story and sets them within a coherent framework. Fourthly, systematic theology and Christian philosophy which seeks to reflect on these Christian beliefs at a more theoretical level. They state, “The point of a Christian worldview [...] is that the biblical story embodies and implies a framework of basic beliefs that can be set out to equip Christians in their lives.” (p.27). I have a point of agreement and a point of disagreement with Goheen and Bartholomew. I think they might be on to something in suggesting the concept of a worldview as a bridge between biblical theology and systematic theology. Carson has also earlier suggested such a move in his Gagging of God. This is all the more so following recent definitions of the concept as involving not just the mind, but more so the heart , i.e. fundamentally, a worldview is about orientation and commitment of the heart. Thus the concept of worldview could have some mileage in (coming back to Gamble’s conviction) shaping the loci of systematic theology. The point of disagreement is that Goheen and Bartholomew might have drawn up too sharp a distinction between intellect and practice in their definition of systematic theology, relegating systematic theology to the former. More recent definitions of systematic theology have been keen to include the element of sapentia (wisdom). John Frame for example defines theology as ‘the application of the Word of God by persons to all areas of life’ (p.10 in Always Reforming) . This would mean a much closer coherence and overlap between the concepts of worldview and systematic theology than what Goheen and Bartholomew’s four-level scheme would have allowed for.

Harvesting the Drama Metaphor for Ethics Part II

See here for Part I of post.

In the 2nd section of his book, Wells moves on to examine five practices carried out as part of improvisation within the theatre – assessing status; accepting or blocking; questioning givens; incorporating gifts or ‘overaccepting’; and reincorporating – and seeks to see how these five practices could be applied to ethics. Well’s main proposal is that such improvisory practices enables the Church to know better how it should carry out its practices as it lives in Act 4. Wells proposes the main practice that should characterise the church should be that of ‘accepting all offers – to let go of the impulse to block and to enjoy the freedom of perpetually accepting’ (p.115).In the case of less than ideal offers, even evil offers, the church should not rely on ‘blocking’, but instead should ‘overaccept’. A (somewhat lengthy) paragraph from the book captures what I think is at the heart of Well’s argument:

“I have argued in my treatment of improvisation so far that Christian ethics is about learning to take the right things for granted. It is commonplace to perceive life within the context of a story, and one takes a circumstance or development for granted if it is true to the character of the story. Christianity perceives reality in terms of a particular story, whose broad dimensions I set out [...] as a five-act drama, spanning creation-Israel-Jesus-church-eschaton. The key to Christian living is to have a thorough perception and embodiment of what forms of life are appropriate to Act Four. Many, perhaps most, of the church’s mistakes derive from a mistaken apprehension of which act it is in. It is not the church’s vocation to create (Act One) or to conclude (Act Five) the story. The Messiah has come (Act Three), and it is the church’s role to follow in Christ’s footsteps (Act Four), not to act as if the fullness of God were yet to be revealed (Act Two). Thus the simple task of the church is to keep the story going, in the face of numerous temptations to block and kill the story when it becomes uncomfortable or threatening. Because the Christian story is larger and greater in depth and scope than the smaller stories that present themselves, Christians can overaccept the offers that come to them from the world in the light of the larger story. Rather than use violence, which bypasses the imagination, kills the story, and sits uneasily in Act Four, the church addresses threats to its integrity by perceiving what such offers could mean in the context of the five-act play.” (p.143-144)

Wells then moves on in the 3rd section of the book to apply his improvisory model to the four issues of human evil, diseases and sicknesses, cloning, and genetically modified food (!) In each of these issues, he consistently applies the five practices mentioned above within improvisation to the issue.

Overall, Wells’ methodology of carrying out ethics in Improvisation could be described as a ‘post-liberal virtue ethic couched in the theatrical language of improvisation’. ‘Post-liberal’ because Well’s emphasis on the location of theology and ethics being grounded in the practices of the church appear often enough to show his indebtness to those in the post-liberal tradition (e.g. Lindbeck). ‘Virtue’ because Wells’ central focus in the practices of the church is always on the formation of habits within the church, especially those formed through its acts of worship. The following paragraph captures both these emphases of Wells’:

“I argue that Christian ethics must always be grounded in the practices of the church. I suggest that the central role of Christian ethics is the formation of habits and disciplines – that it is those habits and disciplines that largely shape what the church regards as crises and dilemmas – and that it is those same habits and disciplines that largely govern the church’s response to such crises and dilemmas. [...] And I describe two central practices, overaccepting and reincorporation, that epitomize how communities should seek to reflect the pattern of God’s activity and embody the Christian story in their common life.” (p.213)

While Wells’ model could be one way of seeing how the theatrical metaphor could be applied to ethics; and while Wells has provided at times some interesting insights and reflections into ethical issues through his ‘improvisory practices’, one wonders if this is the most ideal way of utilising the theatrical metaphor. My main concern is the lack of consideration of the rest of the four Acts (Acts 1, 2, 3, and 5) within the Drama, and a result, due weight is not given to these other Acts. One seems to get the impression that for Wells, Acts 1 and 2 are merely there to remind the church not to behave as if it was still in the first two acts (as if it was creator or as if the Messiah has not come). But Wells has failed to give due attention to how Acts 1 and 2 could in fact have some degree of continuity into Act 4 for ethical consideration. Act 3 also seems to be there so that the church in Act 4 can directly follow on from its Saviour. This fails to consider how Jesus himself fulfils Act 1 and 2, and how in doing so, might have implications in terms of the Church’s following in Act 4. In another words (and in Wells’ terminology), ’overaccepting’ might mean more than just directly following Jesus in Act 3, but rather an overall consideration of how the whole Drama (Acts 1-3 and 5) might impact the exact stance of the church in ‘overaccepting’. This leads in to my last ‘questioning of the givens’ (in Wells’ terminology again) – Is virtue ethics the main way to carry out ethics within the theatrical metaphor? While it is definitely part of the consideration, wouldn’t the fact that there is Act 5 set the main way of doing ethics as more teleological in nature, or at least give more attention to it?