So, orthodoxy for its part is actually a refusal to go further in explaining, a deliberate drawing of the doctrinal circle in a wide rather than a narrow way. It is a victory for poets over bureaucrats: for those who want language that generates new possibilities of meaning over against those that would close them down and specify and deaden. The Nicene formulae (and their later Chalcedonian counterparts) refuse to explain how their may be a Son and Father who are equally God; or a person who is God and man. For Williams, then, the job of doctrine is to teach us silence as well as to circumscribe and guide our speech. Orthodoxy becomes then the steel framework around which Christians in each generation must build and rebuild, with considerable effort and not a little pain.
Now, parts of this vision strike me as problematic and a kind of postmodern retrojection back on the 4th century (he does this, bizarrely in my opinion, with Cranmer as well!) It could easily be caricatured as a very Anglican, very English approach to doctrine - i.e., the English are happy for minimalist view of the role of laws and constitutions because so much of their culture proceeds by convention and agreement. Notably, in the US, the opposite is true: laws and conventions have to do what they say on the packet. Americans (and other colonials!) find the vagueness of the English not liberating but rather frustrating, and a little dishonest (it isn't, but that is how it is perceived). Williams (showing his Hegelian colours) does rather focus on the agonising process of deliberation as an end in itself over against the decision/s of any such debates, too.
BUT: there is also something very appealing about Williams' notion of orthodoxy too. Earlier, for example, in talking about the atonement we struck an attempt to exclude the very old and certainly biblical idea of sacrificial substitution from an orthodox understanding of the atonement; and on the other side, Vanhoozer's warnings about rationalism and reductionism as tendencies in evangelical theological thinking. Both pitfalls are avoided if orthodoxy is practiced as Williams would have us practice it, certainly.
3 comments:
I feel like Williams' treatment of Orthodoxy gets it half right. On the one hand, there is a certain amount of circumscribing the boundaries going on in the delimitation of orthodoxy. Nicea and Chalcedon both seem to draw a box and say 'play in here'. There are certain confines within which orthodoxy works and outside that is clear heresy.
On the other hand, Williams' case that this leads to a refusal to speak, a case for silence, is over-represented, and in fact rests on his deeper assumptions about the epistemology of theology. Drawing the boundaries, at Nicea for instance, didn't signal that all else was unable-to-be-spoken-of. Silence isn't the necessary corollary of a refusal to define further.
And, to be fair, Williams is not merely in favour of silence. It is just that Christian talk about God is always for him provisional and open to judgement: it is never final.
Of course, for WIlliams, Scripture itself is the beginning of that Christian talk about God.
I think he has some good points -as far as you explain them -but on the other hand if he takes a more negative approach to theology -an apothatic theology isn't that a risk the other way -saying less than may be as bad as saying more than? Obscuring what is revealed and making it mystery again
Post a Comment