Monday, March 12, 2012

A question for historical theologians

Historical theologians (and you know, some of my best friends are historical theologians...) are a curious bunch. They are dedicated to reach into the obscure pockets of the theological works of the past and telling us what someone REALLY thought. It is onerous and exacting work, and anyone who tries to do constructive theology owes them a debt.

Now, constructive theologians often making grand sweeping statements about the history of theology in order to bolster their case. Two examples:
1) the Barth-sponsored reading of Calvin and the Calvinists, which alleges that there is a marked difference between the two.
2) the Rogers-McKim reading of the Princetonian school (Warfield etc) which alleges that inerrancy was pretty much their invention and borne out of their commitment to Scottish Common Sense Realism.

In both instances, careful historical theology has shown where polemics have stood in the way of understanding what actually occured, and have given us a more nuanced view of the past and more options for discussing significant matters of controversy in the present. The historical theologian can always play the trump card of 'I have really read all of this work in its context and in its original language and in the unpublished manuscript and I can tell you that the true picture is more like X than Y'. It really is hard to get around that kind of breadth of knowledge.

However - there is a point up to which this becomes perfectly useless in tracing the history of ideas. What do I mean? I mean that what we need to deal with is not Augustine as he actually was (for example) but 'Augustine' as the tradition received him. Now, 'Augustine' is somewhat similar to Augustine, but not the same. Sure, find me an unread and untranslated sermon that shows that he didn't really think xyz, but in the final analysis, who cares? What matters is rather what successive generations of theologians have meant when they wrote about 'Augustine'.

An example came up in discussion recently about John Owen. Now, John Owen is probably best known - though certainly not exclusively - for his work on the atonement The Death of Death. A historical theologian friend of mine said recently though that, since this was an early work, it was not fair to judge Owen on this work. Granted. But Owen is not 'Owen'. And ultimately, 'Owen' is more interesting in the history of theological thought than Owen. So is 'Arius', as opposed to Arius.

This is not to say we should embrace unfair readings or short cuts or that more work on these great figures won't yield impressive fruit. But historical theologians need to engage more in tracing how ideas have been passed on, don't they - justly or not. In fact, this raises the point: can we ever really sum up the thought of an individual thinker as a consistent whole in any case? Thinkers are organisms. They change their minds, contradict themselves, forget things and get emotional about stuff. They respond to controversies and battles... are we not better served by asking what their legacy was? Don't we need a reception theory for theological thinkers?

3 comments:

Karl Hand said...

Then of course, one would have to differentiate between how theologians are traditionally thought to have been received, and how they really were received. For instance, there is a distinction between the Fathers and Calvin's use of 'the Fathers'... and also between 'Calvin's' use of 'the Fathers', and Calvin's use of 'the Fathers'. And there is also a contrast between 'Barth's' understanding of Calvin's use of 'the Fathers', and Barth's understanding of Calvin's use of 'the Fathers'.

This is why I'm in Biblical Studies...

Dan Patterson said...

Interesting post. How far can we take the idea here? I thought of inserting a random guy called Paul into your statement in the place where you had Augustine. It reads:

Now, 'Paul' is somewhat similar to Paul, but not the same. Sure, find me an unread and untranslated sermon that shows that he didn't really think xyz, but in the final analysis, who cares?

Whoever this Paul character was, I think we should do what we can to present him in his own right for the sake of those who continue to read and develop upon "Paul’s" thoughts, who, all the while thought it was Paul who they were dealing with.

Perhaps Paul was an important theologian that we should work to get right. I think other theologians like Augustine, Owen and whoever else we might like to name should be understood in the same way: that the truth that they were trying to convey is the measure by which we understand the divergence or not of their thinking in the legacy that is attributed to them.

The whole discipline of historical theology does not need to be undermined because we cannot know exactly what a theologian believed. And with regard to the theologians changing their ideas and contradicting themselves, etc., surely this is one part of the historical theologian's work - to express this change and to show that, for example, Owen and ‘Owen’ is not univocal on all things atonement. In a sense keeping other theological disciplines accountable.

What is the role of the historical theology? I see at least four tasks: firstly, finding out what A believed; secondly, finding out what C believes; thirdly, finding out how C arrived from A; and fourthly, comparing and contrasting A and C.

Mike W said...

All this should remind us that as teachers, we not only have a responsibility for what we say, but also how it is received.
Our statements may be careful and balanced, but if we allow our students to take them, popularise them and end up spouting rubbish, then we haven't really done our job very well.
Worse still is when we use our careful, balanced statements to defend the rubbish being spouted.

To pick a controversial one, I've never heard a college lecturer explain Penal substitutionary atonement in a way that sounded like divine child abuse, but it is regular fare in our churches. And so sitting in the pews, the lecturer may have been careful and thoughtful, but, as Michael says 'who cares', because this is what has been passed on.