Theology for the Masses

A few days ago, I posted a picture which I thought demonstrated the relationship between Modernism, Foundationalism, Fundamentalism, and Christianity.  I’d like to clarify what I am talking about there, here.

By Modernism, I mean the paradigm(s) of thought which owe their intellectual roots in the Enlightenment.  Essential traits of Modernism are as follows:

1. The elevation of reason as the ultimate standard.
2. The elevation of science as the ultimate measure truth.
3. The elevation of the observable as the only source of evidence.

A lot more could be said here, but those are the features I want to highlight.

Foundationalism is a modernistic epistemological framework which attempts to build a solid foundation of undeniable and fully provable (often by the criteria listed above) truth propositions upon which all other forms of knowledge are built.

Many, if not most, evangelical groups subscribe to a Foundationalist framework for building knowledge.  They all assert the absolute truth of the Bible, but, because of their unnoticed acceptance of the modernist and foundationalist framework, they  feel as though they must prove beyond a shadow of a doubt the foundation that is the Bible.  Once this is proved, then and only then can they proceed to demonstrate how the next piece of theology can be added upon the firm foundation that is the Bible.  Once added, then they can logically and rationally add the next brick. 

And so on.

And so on. 

After a while, you can build a nice systematic theology which is rigid and impenetrable.

…

Unless one of the bricks falls out.

Now you have a hole in your wall.  The bricks above now come a tumbling.  Suddenly, most of your wall has fallen down and you are standing there looking a fool holding a bunch of spiritual propositions (or laws).

You are very invested in making sure not a single brick ever moves.

After all, you have constructed theology.  Nay, you have constructed The Theology.  The truth.  It has set you free (to play within its walls, of course). 

…

Unless one of your scientific premises about the Bible, its accuracy (as you conceive it) and historicity (as you want it to be) is proven wrong by science, history, or any other endeavor.  Once you have proven the Bible, it and everything you build upon it suffers the same fear as one of the above bricks.

You see, the Bible is not prime in your endeavor, the scientific demonstration of the Bible’s authenticity is prime.

Because Foundationalists have capitulated to Modernism’s demands of knowledge and truth, we find ourselves arguing that the world is really a few thousand years old. 

We need to move beyond Foundationalism, beyond Modernism.

We need to grasp the edges of the scientific/historical/literary/modernist/foundationalist tablecloth and yank it out from under the Bible.

When we do, we will find that the Spirit of the Living God does just fine on his own.  Instead of needing justified, he justifies.  Instead of being an objective (i.e. scientific) description of reality/history/science, we find that the Spirit speaking through the Bible is the most objective thing in the universe because it describes the world as God wills it to be.

The scary thing is that we have to leave modernism behind.  Any such task is fought with fear because this necessarily means that we have to be postmodern.

This is not as scary as it seems on the surface or in Christian chain-emails.  In fact, though the road is dangerous, steep, and rocky, it allows us so much more.

… and Postmodernism did not give us relativism.  Modernism did.

But I’ll get to that in the next post.

Upcoming: How a post-modern framework might help us in our construction of Theology.  How Foundationalists often mistake the bricks for the foundation.

DeConnick, over at the Forbidden Gospels Blog, laments the propensity for immediate “misreading, mischaracterizations and negative assessments” by her “biblioblogging” peers.  Yesterday, DeConnick put up an excellent (and I mean excellent) list of 10 principles for the historical-critical interpretation of ancient texts.  It seems that there was a swift and negative reaction to the principles she outlined.

The real gem of her post is found in her discussion concerning the need for a recovery of dominated voices in our histories.  DeConnick says:

… So the kind of history that has been recovered and written has been the history of the dominant group, and it is the history that justifies and sustains that group. […] But we haven’t rewritten our histories to reflect what we are learning about the hidden histories and the marginalized past nor have we commemorated it as a society […]. Why not add a paper dollar to those we use already, and put Anthony on it? Why not make a government holiday commemorating the Suffrage movement? Why not rename important boulevards with the names of women we wish to commemorate? …

She ends her post saying that the challenge of our generation is

to understand our past more fully and appreciate the variety and complexity of it. We need to give proper credit to the marginalized histories for their own sake, but also with the recognition that the dominant stories would not be what they are if those it marginalized had not lived.

I am going to spend the rest of the day thinking how that can come to pass with my scholarship and lived life.

Bibliography:
Deconick, April. “What is it about biblioblogging…?.” The Forbidden Gospels, September 22, 2009. http://forbiddengospels.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-is-it-about-biblioblogging.html.

(via Biblia Hebraica)

As I am nearing the completion of my degree and am on the cusp of having time to think on theological matters once again, I am struck by the inclusion of letters, letters, from Paul [1] to various peoples in the Canon.  I am an absolute Canonist (this will show up in an upcoming post which will complete my Paul and 1 Cor 11 series which has been on hold as I completed many school projects.) and take as an article of faith that what shows up in our present Canon belongs in the Canon.

However, having a sentence included in the Canon does not mean it should be taken as completely prescriptive 100% of the time prime facie.  When we have letters, we have to realize that a) letters are very different beasts than Gospels, Apocalypses, etc. and b) there are many different types of letters out there, each meant to be read in a particular way. 

With this in mind I have been pondering how we are to read the Pauline letters.  If we do straight theology from them, we might (but we might not) be missing something…I can’t think of any examples in the specific (and I will have my mind back early next week).

Any thoughts?

1. or people writing in Paul’s name [↩]