The Church is Not a Zoo: Unity, Not Diversity, is the Church’s Communal Value

 

The Church is not a zoo ... and that is why unity, not diversity, is its communal value.  As Aristotle rightly noted, ethics develop from clarity about what is our end or goal (Nicomachean Ethics 1094a).  To make diversity our end rather than unity will produce an entirely different ethic for the Church.  The present essay will, positively, explore the significance of unity—and a particular unity in Christ—as the Church’s moral end by considering Paul’s words on the matter in 1 Corinthians 12, Romans 12.4-7, and Ephesians 4.1-6.18.  It will also address, negatively, the errors that result when diversity replaces unity as the Church’s community value—including when unity is regarded as a product of diversity seen as a value in itself (e.g., ecclesial multiculturalism).  The essay functions as a plea for a Biblical understanding of the Church at a time when our Christian ecclesiology is in tatters and many are advocating an error stemming directly from the culture rather than Scripture.

Community understood in terms of diversity may be examined with reference to the nature and purpose of a zoo.  We go to a zoo to see a variety of animals.  The greater the diversity, the better the zoo.  On a visit to the zoo, we don’t just want to see pandas from China but also platypuses from Australia, pythons from Africa, and pumas from the Americas.  Each separate identity of the animals provides value.

The Church, on the other hand, values unity.  Value is not in the separate identities of the individuals but the gifts they bring together for the common good (1 Corinthians 12; Romans 12.4-8).  That common good is called the ‘body of Christ’.  That is, the unity is itself not any sort of unity but Christ-unity, with Christ as head.  This unity is also described as unity in the triune God (1 Corinthians 12.4-6; Eph. 4.4-6).  It is not communal unity, as though being united in community is the value.  This is frequently misunderstood: being together does not make unity.  During the breakup of denominations that forsook Christian orthodoxy and ethics, many contended that unity needed to be maintained.  There is no Scripture to support this view, though attempts were made (John 17 is often misinterpreted along these lines, for example).

Unity that is unity with Christ as head of the body, the Church, is a unity that is founded upon the truth.  Ephesians presents this in a memorable, trinitarian affirmation:

There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all (4.4-6).

This trinitarian confession about unity in the Church seems to have been Paul’s general thought.  That is, he already articulated this in 1 Corinthians:

 

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone (12.4-6).

In Ephesians, the trinitarian basis of unity (Spirit, Lord, and God and Father—in the same order as 1 Corinthians) is expanded into confessions about beliefs (hope and faith) and concrete realities (body or Church and baptism).  Each is unifying.  Moreover, both 1 Corinthians 12.4-6 and Ephesians 4.4-6 place an emphasis on unity through the word ‘all’.  These unifying gifts, beliefs, and realities and this unifying triune God produce a unity for all in the Church that results in community but is a divine work.  That is, the Church is not a mere assembly, a human institution.  Its unifying factors are not in its human elements or diversity of human attributes but in its divine work of Spirit-giftedness, faith, baptism, and moral righteousness or holiness (more on this later from Ephesians 4 and 5).  The Church is not a human institution with divine validation.  It is not a servant of Christ—though that captures aspects of what it is—so much as the body of Christ.  It is raised to an organic unity with God, as Jesus’ high priestly prayer in John 17 so clearly also presents in agreement with the theology we have explored in Paul:

I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.  The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me (John 17.20-23).

 The value of unity is supported by the virtue of humility, exemplified by Christ (Philippians 2.1-11; Ephesians 4.2; Colossians 3.12; 1 Peter 5.5).  Paul says,

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned (Romans 12.3).

The passage then continues with the litany of gifts that make individual Christians ‘members of one another’ (v. 5).  We might, to grasp the gravity of this, contrast this with what occurs when diversity replaces unity.  If diversity were the value, then humility would not be the supporting virtue. Individual identity is ushered forward as a crowning virtue instead.  One’s value for the community is made to lie in oneself: my accidental attributes (ethnicity, gender, or social class) constitute a distinctiveness that is my contribution to the group, not my humble service. Rather, when unity is the value, the members make their contribution to and for the body instead of revelling in their distinctiveness: ‘If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body’ (v. 15).  Directly contradicting a theology of diversity, Paul says, ‘If all were a single member, where would the body be?’ (v. 19).  With diversity, the parts feature prominently; with unity, the body features more.  With diversity, human attributes feature; with unity, Christ features more.

Gifting by the Spirit deprives individuals of thinking that their contribution to the Church is something that is theirs.  Each is gifted by the Spirit for the common good.  Some gifts are in persons—apostles, prophets, teachers (Ephesians 4.11 adds evangelists and pastors)—while others are in activities—miracles, healing, helping, administration, speaking in tongues (v. 28).  Natural characteristics (ethnicity, gender) and life circumstances (social status) are not the contributions individuals make to the body.  The value of unity is not supported through human measures but is a work of God.  Each gift is a work of the Spirit, as Paul emphasizes in 1 Corinthians 12.7-12.  The Spirit baptizes all (Jews, Greeks, slaves, free) into one body (cf. Galatians 3.27-28).  Those thinking of the Church merely as a diverse community completely misconstrue the theology of unity.  It is not human diversity but the unifying work and gifting of the Spirit that is Paul’s point.  The ‘product’ (end, goal) is not diversity but a common good (v. 7).  In Ephesians, the apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers ‘equip the saints for the work of ministry (diakonia, service) for building up the body of Christ’ until they reach unity of the faith, knowledge of God, and maturity in Christ (4.11-13).

At a more human level in the body, the weaker or less honourable parts are given greater care as needed (vv. 23-25).  This is no affirmation of intersectional identity politics, where the marginalized are valued for their collected minority attributes or status.  These parts are not valued because such attributes are more honourable (such as when some minor ethnicity, gender and the like are given privileged status) but because they are given value by the other members.  (Nor are immoral identities or theological errors given any affirmation, let alone privilege.)  One of the recent twists in logic in western culture is the notion that minority groups are more valuable than majority groups, such as Christians versus other religions, women versus men, certain races versus others, certain sexualities over heterosexuality, etc.  Adoption of the postmodern value of diversity has allowed these fundamental errors to march through the front door of the Church.  Individuals bring their self-worth to the altar rather than being bestowed with worth, unworthy as they all are, through Christ.  The Eucharist provides frequent clarity on this central feature of Christian theology: our worth is not in ourselves but in what Christ grants through His sacrifice.  As Paul says,

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead (Philippians 3.8-11).

Several other related dispositions, virtues, practices, and dynamics are related to ecclesial unity.  Empathy is a characteristic of the Christian value of unity, such as sharing in others’ suffering or being joyful when another is honoured (1 Corinthians 12.26).  Love, like humility, is a virtue of Christian unity that undermines any focus on diversity as the value.  It is preferred to gifts precisely for the reason that gifts—good as they are—can be misconstrued as one’s own possession.  Having some kind of deep spirituality, such as prophetic powers, spiritual knowledge, or deep faith to perform wonders can lead to one’s own sense of self-worth, but love bestows worth on another (1 Corinthians 13.2).  In addition to humility and love, gentleness, patience, forbearing, and peace are virtues of unity of the Spirit (Ephesians 4.2-3).  Also, an important practice of the community to preserve unity—growing up into Christ, the head of the body—is to speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4.15).  This means to put away falsehood (v. 25): speaking the truth might be understood with reference to the earlier trinitarian statement of vv. 4-6, already quoted.  In other words, the ‘truth’ is theological truth, not something weaker like being truthful.  Later, the fight for truth will be described in terms of being equipped with God’s armor and prayer needed to stand against the devil’s schemes (6.11-18).  Truth matters because unity is not simply communal unity, where people may agree to walk together despite disagreements on key matters.  Communal unity is the product of unity in the truth, not a relaxation of concern over truth for the sake of communal fellowship, otherwise it is a false unity obstructing mature growth into Christ.

Unity also involves the cessation of activities that produce discord: bitterness, wrath, anger, clamour, slander, malice (Ephesians 4.31).  Replacing these are actions that promote unity: being ‘kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another’ (v. 32).  It further involves a transformation of moral character, no longer engaging in sexual immorality, impurity, covetousness, filthiness, foolish talk, crude joking (Ephesians 5.3-5).  Wrong in themselves, these behaviours also contribute to disunity in a community.  Unity in the Church also involves unity in the household (Ephesians 5.22-6.9).

Conclusion

The postmodern value of diversity has become a central value in contemporary theology and ethics.  The Church’s universal mission and consequent multicultural identity has come to be confused with a moral end of diversity.  The fact of the Church’s diversity is thereby turned into an ethic.  However, the pages of Scripture offer no support for this bending of Christian ethics to the left.  Instead, other virtues, practices, beliefs, and morals are formed around an opposite end to diversity: unity.  The purpose of this essay has been to demonstrate, first, that the two ends are not compatible—as though we might say that the Church’s unity is found in its diversity.  That sounds good, given the fact of the Church’s multicultural existence, but it is simply false.  

The second purpose of this essay has been to examine texts, particularly 1 Corinthians 12, Romans 12.4-7, and Ephesians 4.1-6.18 to develop a theological understanding of unity and of the Church itself.  While some might think that 1 Corinthians 12 is a text to celebrate a general value like diversity, this is not at all the case.  The point of such texts is always unity.  What this unity entails has been positively summarized in various ways, working towards a theology—an ecclesiology—that is Biblically established, even if only in part here.  The needed reformation of the Church in the 16^th century resulted in correction of certain doctrines of the Church but left the matter of ecclesiology somewhat unclear.  In our day, we have reaped the consequences of this in the disarray of the Protestant world (and this is not a way of praising Orthodox or Roman Catholic alternatives). We need to reach far back into Scripture to regain an ecclesiology at a time when everything regarding our understanding of the Church is in nothing less than a shambles (denominational heresies, independent churches, a loss of mission, merely human notions of community, replacing ‘ministry’ with ‘leadership’ concepts, reduction of ‘church’ to a service of worship, the loss of worship during lockdowns due to a virus, and so forth).  

Third, the purpose of this essay has been to demonstrate in what ways diversity leads to a human philosophy of community over against how unity is framed theologically.  The result is a more theological conception of the Church as the body of Christ, divinely constituted and empowered.  As Paul says, ‘In him [Christ] you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit’ (Ephesians 2.22).  This trinitarian understanding of the Church is precisely the basis for a theological doctrine of unity over against an anthropological notion of diversity.  Indeed, the Church is the body of Christ, ‘the fullness of him who fills all in all’ (Ephesians 1.23).  This unity in Christ contrasts with the collection of separate, accidental identities—diversity—that exist apart from him.  In a word, the present focus on diversity in churches, denominations, theological seminaries, mission organizations, and so forth is a value derived from postmodern culture and is a theological error with far-reaching consequences.

What Is Progressive Theology? Part Four of Four

[This series of essays seeks to define Progressive Theology and offer a critique of it.]

Progressive Theology,  Ethic of Diversity, and Revelation 7.9

Rudolf Bultmann famously asserted that ‘‘Every assertion about man is simultaneously an assertion about God and vice versa.’[1]  His actual understanding of this necessary relationship emphasized the anthropological far more than the theological, since his concern to demythologize Scripture leaned heavily into a scientific rather than theological understanding, and his existentialism meant that theology was meant to answer the question of human existence.  While Bultmann’s anthropocentric existentialism focussed more on the individual in light of the human condition, Progressive Theology, also anthropocentric, is focussed more on the social condition in light of power dynamics.  The language often used for this is ‘social justice’, which is understood in reference to group identities and their relationships.

One trajectory for Progressive Theology’s anthropocentrism entails a neglect of the Church as a theological entity.  It is conceived of as a community that serves human need.  The ontological notion of the Church as the ‘body of Christ’, as growing into a holy temple of the Lord indwelt by the Holy Spirit, as defined by Christ the foundation stone and the apostles and prophets as the foundation, as passing on the faith once for all delivered to the saints, as fulfilling the mission of proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and as made up of individuals gifted by the Spirit for the health and growth of the body is translated into communal categories.  Unity in Christ is understood as fellowship across various human divisions.  Rather than understanding that these human divisions are irrelevant to being baptized into Christ, they are celebrated as marks of unity.  Consequently, Christ is not the unity; unity is rather understood as multiethnic diversity and gender equality.  Moreover, diversity is made the value in itself, rather than the result of valuing the Church’s mission to all nations.  Diversity—a condition of humanity—is turned into a value that understands multiethnic churches to be the primary goal of Christian community.[2]  The result of this is that other defining characteristics, such as holiness and truth, are made less significant (if not ignored altogether).  Diversity is also treated as a virtue: we are considered better because we are ethnically diverse rather than fully matured through Christ our head.  Thus, the urban, large, multiethnic church is considered to be better than the rural, small, village church.  A rural community that has a simple identity—monocultural, religious, traditional—is regarded as backward, deprived, uneducated, boring, and so forth.  An urban, cosmopolitan community is regarded as preferable.  Those advocating for diversity as a value run into the problem of disvaluing such communities.  In the area of theology, orthodoxy stands out negatively as a monocultural product that, politically, is also regarded as an exclusionary hegemony.  Where diversity is valued, alternative interpretations, convictions, ethics, and practices are valued over against orthodoxy.  Instead of the diversity of Spirit-giftedness, the diversity of human categories is celebrated.

Another trajectory for Progressive Theology’s anthropocentrism is to prioritize ethics over theology and to understand ethics as primarily social justice.  This social justice is defined by culture.  Scripture is, of course, engaged: it has much to say about justice.  Yet the understanding of justice comes first from the culture, and Biblical texts are coopted for the foreign ideology.  Social justice is understood by the same values of society at large—in terms of tolerance, diversity, multiethnicity, and equality.  A Biblical understanding can be given to each of these values, but the Biblical understanding is not the same as the understanding of society at large.  However, Progressive Theology does not recognize this; it rather begins with what society says about social justice and merely uses verses in Scripture strung together to support the cultural ethic.  Particularly absent in such an ethic are doctrines that point to understanding humanity in more universal ways than in terms of their group identities.  An identity politics replaces teaching on creation in the image of God, universal sin, salvation through the cross, and identity in Christ.

Progressive Theology also derives its analytical method from the culture.  If Liberation Theology found Karl Marx and Marxism as the best way to challenge the inequalities in South America between the wealthy landowners and the poor peasants, Progressive Theology continues on this trajectory by adopting Critical Race Theory to address issues of diversity and multiethnicity today.  Not aware of how racist it is, it thinks it is attacking racism by adopting language such as ‘white church’ and ‘whiteness’.  It adopts racial identity in order to oppose racism and ends up as a highly charged, emotional racism. 

To understand this, note three types of passages about identity in Paul: (1) Paul’s own identity; (2) believers’ identity; and (3) Paul’s ministry to ethnic groups.  In each case, Paul redirects attention on ethnicity to identity in Christ.  First, Paul’s identity is in knowing Christ Jesus rather than his identity as a Jew, in righteousness through faith in Christ rather than as a Hebrew-speaking Jew, and in sharing in Christ’s suffering and experiencing His resurrection power rather than his following the law and zealousness as a Pharisee.  His identity in Christ makes all other categories irrelevant, and to relate to others out of those categories would undermine Christ.  He says,

Phil. 3:3 For we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God and glory in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh—4 though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: 5 circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; 6 as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. 7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. 8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

A faulty understanding of a minister’s identity is when the person’s ethnic identity is a basis for appointing a person to ministry.  ‘Appointing’ is also a replacement for a theology of ‘calling’.  Another faulty understanding of identity is when books for courses are chosen for the ethnic or gender identity of the author rather than the importance of the work for discipleship.  When people are advanced in ministry positions primarily for their education, popularity, looks, and so forth, instead of their obedience to Christ, their love of God, their commitment to the Church, their faithfulness to orthodoxy, etc., then a human approach to ministry is made to undermine the purposes of God.  An example of this error was in the Presbyterian Church (USA)’s insistence on quotas for women as elders.  This is the equivalent of an economy that focuses on equal outcomes rather than equal opportunity.  However, God’s concern is not some version of social justice in equality but in righteousness and obedience.

Second, Paul encourages believers to adopt his perspective of identity in Christ.  He does not celebrate the diversity of ethnicities in the Church but makes these differences irrelevant.  Once again, the new identity everyone gains in Christ makes human categories inconsequential.  Paul is not celebrating multiculturalism but singular identity in Christ:

Gal. 3:27 For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. 28 There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. 29 And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise.

Col. 3:9 Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices10 and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. 11 Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.

1Cor. 12:13 For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.

A faulty approach to communal identity has already been described in some detail above.

Third, Paul makes ethnic difference a matter of indifference in his ministry.  He can relate differently to Jews and Gentiles precisely because their differences in regard to culture are inconsequential.  The reason is that all that matters is the Gospel.

1Cor. 9:19 For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them. 20 To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law) that I might win those under the law. 21 To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (not being outside the law of God but under the law of Christ) that I might win those outside the law. 22 To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. 23 I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings.

 A faulty approach in ministry is to teach that a culture’s identity adds value to a multicultural Church.  This leads to syncretism rather than transformation of cultures under the Lordship of Jesus Christ.  Idolatry is at times the result.  Every culture is subject to the Fall and needs transformation.  The body of Christ is not a collection of cultures but a transformation of cultures into the culture of the Church.  Where cultural differences may continue (as we see in Romans 14-15), they are matters of indifference.  The celebration of multiculturalism presents a serious danger to the Church.  The postmodern value of diversity is strikingly naïve about human nature, sin, and evil.  Not everything is depraved about a culture, but every culture is to some extent depraved.  Some cultures are more depraved than others (think human sacrifice, oppression of women, and slavery, e.g.).  What Paul is concerned about is the Gospel and the blessings that derive from accepting God’s salvation in Christ.

Also, by valuing diversity, culture is considered static.  For example, a multicultural immigration policy or a preference for multicultural churches that sees the benefit of this diversity in an ethic of difference is short-lived.  The second generation of immigrants, for example, often adopt the new culture as they are formed in schools, clubs, by television and the internet, etc.  Even homogeneous cultures can change, especially in the world today.  The value of cultural difference is fleeting as communities are culture-producing and ever changing.

Diversity tends to run counter to other virtues, such as capability (natural capacities, e.g., physical strength, health, intelligence), expertise (training), diligence (character), faithfulness (communal identity), and individuality.  Regarding individuality, diversity emphasizes seeing individuals in light of their group identity and the group identity that they bring to any other group.  Ironically, advocates of diversity and multiculturalism are often motivated by an anti-racial ethic that ends up as racist itself precisely because individuals are identified in terms of their race.  (Racism is seeing and treating individuals in light of their racial identity.)

Example: Revelation 7.9 Read as a Text Advocating Diversity

In light of the culture’s recent acceptance of diversity and multiculturalism as values and virtues, Progressive Theologians began appropriating Biblical texts for this purpose.  One such text is Revelation 7.9, which says,

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb…

The passage is seen as a great statement of multicultural diversity in God’s plan for the Church and in missions.  To be sure, the Church is multicultural.  There is great diversity within it—sometimes good, sometimes bad, and sometimes indifferent.  However, it becomes a proof-text for the culture’s agenda in Soong-Chan Rah’s advocacy of a multicultural church and a text by which to upbraid ‘whitism’—European/American white culture.[3]  He says,

The imagery of Revelation 7 points to a gathering of all believers, across all races, ethnicities and cultures.  The call for those who are outside of Western culture is to lift up the message of the gospel through the unique expression of the image of God and the cultural mandate found in each culture.^[4]

All this fits with Progressive Theology’s use of Critical Race Theory to classify and castigate the perceived white hegemony of power.  The antidote to this is, for Rah, multiculturalism.  Effectively, he turns the diversity of multiculturalism into a primary value—even a virtue that will help the Church to do what it is supposed to do well.  He further sees the ‘white church’ as a hegemony of power and generational wickedness that must be opposed.  In so doing, he makes multicultural diversity become equal with looking at individuals in terms of their racial identity—a definition of racism—and turns an opposition to ‘whitism’ into a virtue—instead of the vice that it is with its anti-white agenda.  This reaches a new level of racism with Willie James Jennings’ lumping whites into a single white culture and then attacking it (despite attempts at qualifying this as about culture rather than people).[5]  The irony of attacking racism with such racism seems lost on such authors.

If one looks at translations of Revelation 7.9, one can observe some rather surprising things.  First, while the passage poses no translation difficulties, it is rendered various ways.  The Latin Vulgate has what the Greek has—no different readings arose through translation in much of the history of the Church.  The English Standard Version translation, above, is a fine rendering of the Greek.  Yet the King James Version that the plural, ‘nations’, is used instead of the singular of the Greek.  The New International Version makes each of the nouns singular: ‘every nation, tribe, people, and language.’  Martin Luther, oddly, translated ‘nation’ with ‘Heiden’—‘heathen’—and he only has three nouns.  The New Jerusalem Bible and Good News Bible, like the NIV, also have the nouns in the singular, and they introduce the word ‘race’.  There is considerable overlap or confusion in English between the words ‘ethnicity’ and ‘race’.  The former tends to refer more to culture and the latter more to colour.  The New Jerusalem Bible swaps ‘race’ with ‘tribe,’ and the Good News Bible swaps ‘race’ with ‘nation’.  As we move from such loose translations to a loose paraphrase like The Message, we find ‘races’ used for ‘peoples’.  All these changes are rather remarkable when the text is perfectly understandable with a more literal translation.  What is particularly interesting is the use of the word ‘race’ in the more recent translations and in The Message.  Apparently, the word ‘race’ gets introduced because of the focus on race since the 1960s.  Any reader today would think, from reading such renderings of Revelation 7.9, that race in the sense of colour is in view.

As we turn from translations to commentaries, we do not find a view like Soong-Chan Rah’s.  Commentators simply do not focus on diversity and multiculturalism, for good reason.  Yet different emphases are offered.  Is the text about size, universality, or, with the earlier part of the chapter, the inclusion of Jews and Gentiles?  Are there other points as well?  Brian Blount, for example, says that the point of Revelation 7.9 is the large size of the crowd: ‘the numbers are titanic’.[6]  Second, he notes that the four nouns point out the ‘vast crowd’s universal nature’ (the four corners of the world).[7]  We might note that the four-fold phrase of ‘nation, tribes, peoples, and languages’ in Revelation 7.9 appears a total of seven times (also in 5.9; 10.11; 11.9; 13.7; 14.6; and 17.15).  Third, the passage is stating that the crowd is made of both Jews and Gentiles.[8]  Fourth, Blount notes that the passage, including v. 10, has to do with spiritual and political salvation and judgement, which often go together (cf. Revelation 6.1-8, 12, 17; 7.1-3; 12.10; 19.1-2).  Since Revelation is written in regard to Rome’s wickedness, ‘the attribution of salvation to God and the Lamb’ is ‘as political as it is spiritual.’  Rome claims to offer salvation but cannot deliver.  He avers:

Though it is a vision about the end time, it maintains an ethical message commending politically active, nonaccommodating behavior in the present moment of the churches of Asia Minor.[9]

This political understanding of the text is surely warranted, given so much in the book of Revelation from beginning to end is about standing firm in the face of persecution and God’s impending judgement on the Roman Empire (e.g., chapter 18).  Despite this rather extensive understanding of the passage, Blount does not take a further step of trying to find a message of diversity in the text.

In addition, the text’s relation to the Old Testament needs to be considered. Greg Beale finds here a fulfillment of the Abrahamic promises of Israel (cf. Gen. 17.5; 32.12; 16.10).[10] Craig Koester considers the meaning of the 144,000.  He rejects the idea that these are Jews or martyrs.  Instead, ‘they are the heirs of the promises to Israel (7.4-8) and a group of people from many nations (7.9-17).[11]  Thus, the passage has to do with ‘the broad scope of God’s purposes for redemption.’[12]  Ian Paul says that the great multitude that no one could count brings Genesis 13.16; 15.5; and 17.4 to mind.[13]

What these commentators do not clearly point out is the connection between the story of the Tower of Babel in Genesis 11, the promises to Abraham, the inclusion of the Gentiles into Israel, and this fulfillment in Revelation.  Sigve K. Tonstad, however, suggests that the Jews of v. 8 and the countless number of people in v. 9 are a fulfillment of Isaiah 49.6, where the gathering of the Jews extends to the nations, in further fulfillment of the promise made to Abraham (Genesis 12.3).[14]  The story of Babel begins with all the earth having one language and voice.  Their striving for greatness leads God to confuse their language into many languages and to disperse them over the face of the earth (v. 9).  The story of Abraham begins the salvation history that will bring the nations back together: in Abraham and the people that come from him—Israel—‘all the families of the earth shall be blessed’ (Genesis 12.3).  Many texts in the Old Testament, particularly in Isaiah, view the nations being included in Israel or streaming to Zion.  Isaiah 2.2-4, for example, speaks of many peoples coming to the mountain of the Lord to be taught God’s ways.  Revelation 7.9 is the fulfillment: now the nations are included with the 144,000 (the fulness of Israel).  The families of the earth are blessed in Israel.  The dispersion of the peoples of the earth is reversed.

Thus, the point of Revelation 7.9 is not about diversity but unity.  Diversity is the point of Genesis 11.  It is negative, not positive.  Revelation envisions a reversal of Genesis 11. It is about unity, and it is specifically unity in Christ.  The great multitude of people from the four corners of the earth are brought together before the throne of God and the Lamb and are given a white robe and palm branches, signifying peace.  They are those who come out of the great tribulation, and their robes are washed white in the blood of the Lamb.  The vision is of peace and unity through the blood of Christ, which removes the stain of sin.  It is not a celebration of human culture, ethnicity, diversity and the like.  It is not the peoples’ multiculturalism but their being given white robes that have been washed in the blood of the Lamb that is celebrated.

In the early Church, diversity was the condition of the Roman Empire.  Slaves were typically foreign peoples, and so a Christian house church would have been multiethnic as a matter of fact: Jews, Greeks, Romans, Scythian slaves, and so forth.  The early Christians did not have an agenda of diversity in their churches.  Rather, given diversity, the focus was on unity—particularly between Jews and Gentiles taken as a group.  This unity was made possible through Christ (cf. Ephesians 2.11-17).  What the New Testament opposes is exclusion of any who profess Christ, given this unity in Christ.  Moreover, its vision of the mission of the Church is to go to all peoples to make disciples of them by baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey all Christ’s commandments (Matthew 28.18-20).  Thus, the Church’s unity and mission are the focus of the New Testament.  Church, mission, Christ, not ethnicity, culture, and diversity, are the focus.  The theology of the New Testament cannot be replaced with the anthropocentric vision of contemporary culture.  The theology of the Scriptures, however, is the answer to the misdirected longings of the culture.

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[1] Rudolf Bultmann, Theology of the New Testament (London, 1956) l. 191.

[2] Cf. Kenneth Matthews and M. Sydney Park, The Post-Racial Church: A Biblical Framework for Multiethnic Reconciliation (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel Pub., 2011).

[3] Soong-Chan Rah, The Next Evangelicalism: Freeing the Church from Western Cultural Captivity (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2009).

[4] Ibid., p. 134.

^[5] Willie James Jennings, ‘Can White People be Saved?  Reflections on the Relationship of Missions and Whiteness,’ in Can ‘White’ People be Saved?  Triangulating Race, Theology, and Mission, ed. Love L. Sechrest, Johnny Ramírez-Johnson, and Amos Yong (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Academic, 2018).  Willie James Jennings, After Whiteness: An Education in Belonging (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2020).

[6] Brian Blount, Revelation: A Commentary (Presbyterian Publishing, 2013), p. 150.  So also Eugene Boring, Revelation (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching; Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1989).  Oecumenius, writing about 990, saw the verse to be about countless thousands of Gentiles (Commentary on the Apocalypse 7:9-17).

[7] So also Leon Morris, Revelation (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity, 2009), p. 115.  He also emphasizes the inclusion of both Jews and Gentiles.

[8] Primasius, bishop of Hadrumentum and the primate of Byzacena in north Africa (d. about 560), echoing Ephesians 2.11ff, saw the verse to be about the unity of Jews and Gentiles (CCL 02:126).  Caesarius of Arles in Merovingian Gaul (d. 542), understood the verse to refer to engrafting of all nations (cf. Romans 11.) into the root: the whole Church is made of Jews and Gentiles (PL 35:2427).  Bede (d. 735) of Northumbria noted the fact that v. 8 pictures the naming of the tribes of Israel and v. 9 the ‘salvation of the nations’ (CCL 121A:323).  (See ancient authors in William C. Weinrich, ed., Revelation (Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture; Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2005)).  Gordon D. Fee, Revelation: A New Covenant Commentary (Cambridge, UK: Lutterword Press, 2011, 2013) says that the point is the complete number of God’s people and that this contains not just Israel but all peoples (p. 111).  James L. Resseguie, The Revelation of John: A Narrative Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2009): the ‘Israel of God includes all who follow the Lamb, both Jews and Gentiles (ad loc.).  John Christopher Thomas, Revelation (Two Horizons New Testament Commentary; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2016).  ‘…the sealing of the 144,000 precedes the innumerable crowd, the implicit implication being that a necessary connection exists between the mission of the 144,00 from the transformed Israel and the universal, eschatological people of God present in 7:9’ (ad loc.).  Also, Thomas says that the text moves from a nationalistic (144,000) group to an ‘inclusive and universalistic crowd’ and has an ‘innumerable crowd’ in view.

[9] Blount, p. 152.

[10] Greg Beale with David H. Campbell, Revelation: A Shorter Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2015) ad loc.

[11] Craig R. Koester, Revelation: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, Vol. 38A (New Haven, CT: Anchor Yale Bible, 2014), p. 427.

[12] Ibid., p. 428.

[13] Ian Paul, Revelation: An Introduction and Commentary (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries, Vol. 20; Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2018), p. 161.

[14] Sigve K. Tonstad, Revelation (Paidea Commentaries on the New Testament; Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2019), p. 176.

What is Progressive Theology? Part Three of Four

[This essay continues an attempt to define and offer a critique of Progressive Theology.]

The Hermeneutics of Listening and Creative Appropriation

In matters of interpretation, Progressive Theology is characterized by listening and creative appropriation.  ‘Listening’ in postmodernity replaces interpretation and research in traditional, Renaissance, and Enlightenment scholarship.  It does not seek some objective truth, whether held by tradition or subjected to rational and scientific enquiry.  Its goal is much more experiential, diverse, and empathetic, listening to the experiences of a variety of persons invited to the discussion, particularly those whose voices have not been heard.  The intended (or pretended) goal is non-judgemental love and compassion, as in the latest document of the Church of England—‘Living in Love and Faith’, rather than faithfulness to Scripture or the orthodox Church.[1]  Scripture is used (isolated quotes, values, themes) to present an ethos made up of largely abstract, undefined values that can then be filled in with very specific content from the culture that is diametrically opposed to consistent, Biblical teaching.  A value like ‘love’ can be made to mean anything, and when it is made to support interpretations of sexuality that Scripture consistently defines as sin but the culture embraces, only the most naïve among us will be persuaded that the Bible has been rightly interpreted rather than intentionally manipulated.  One  way to understand this ‘hermeneutic’ is in terms of ‘appropriation’.

In art, appropriation involves the use of existing objects in new and creative ways.  The objects are not themselves art, but the use to which they are put, being creative, meaningful, aesthetic, or emotional, is where the artistic component arises.  Here again, Picasso and Braque provide examples in their art.  They appropriated objects—cloth or newspaper, e.g.—into their art.  Like collage, appropriation in theology locates the use of whatever one wishes from others or the past in order to produce something new.  Postmodern Art continues with these earlier forms of appropriation.

Appropriation involves, firstly, a devaluation of authors and sources.  Their meaning and authority are devalued because what they produced (texts or doctrine) is simply reappropriated by readers for new purposes.  As in Postmodern Art, what is valued is the artistic contribution of the artist in a new context and for a new audience.  ‘Clever’ interpretations are lauded.  Creative, new, and relevant appropriation of familiar objects, such as Scripture or the Church, drown out any original meaning located in the Biblical author’s intentions or in the Church’s tradition.  Progressive Theologians may not even examine a commentary on the text in their appropriation of the wording of a verse for their own purposes, let alone have any classical education to allow them to examine the texts in their original contexts.  They quite possibly have no familiarity with tools of interpretation, such as Biblical languages, and no understanding of ancient cultures, literature, and history.  They speak on about the importance of culture—multiculturalism, global contexts, and diversity—without having knowledge of or much concern about the original culture of the written text, Scripture, or the context in which doctrine was determined—historical theology.  Like the Sophists of Socrates’ day, they place their emphasis on persuastive speech, rhetoric.  They grasp a verse for its rhetorical effect at this point in time with this particular audience.  They happily choose a translation—or even a paraphrase of Scripture—that best suits their purposes, undistracted and unhampered by bothersome issues like Greek grammar or textual criticism.

There is already a long history of this sort of purposive interpretation of texts in Liberation Theology.  The purpose is located in a value: liberation.  This Modernist ideal came to be understood in a more Postmodern way when it was attached to more defined group identities.  Interpretation moves into the realm of ‘reading’ instead, and reading is a task that serves the goal of liberation, that is, political, social, and economic justice for the oppressed community.[2]  If the reading is economic, the liberation reading can pick up on the many texts that advocate justice for the poor and extend this trajectory into contemporary situations—although all too often this has been confused with socialism and Marxism.  Feminist hermeneutics, however, typically advocates liberation from the Biblical text itself, with its alleged patriarchy and worse.  As Sandra Schneiders explains:

Whereas the contemporary poor can make a fairly straightforward transfer from the divine advocacy of the poor and oppressed in the Old and New Testaments to their own situation, women who are oppressed because of their sex and the demeaning construction of gender in contemporary church and society find that the Bible often underwrites their oppression by its assumption of male normativity, its presentation of sexist and even misogynist attitudes and behaviors as acceptable, and its justification of sexually based oppression as the ‘divine plan’ for the human race.[3]

Neither the text nor the interpreter is considered neutral, and so having the ‘right’ purpose in the theological task of achieving liberation is the goal.  In fact, the goal does not require one to be a Christian: Schneider notes that Mary Daly considers herself ‘post-Christian’ and that some others abandon Christianity for a goddess-religion.  Indeed, there is nothing authoritative about Scripture in this typical understanding of feminist hermeneutics.  Feminism is the authority, the text is subordinated, rejected, or appropriated for the readers’ purposes.  One example of this is feminist interpretation of the Atonement that rejects imputed righteousness and sacrificial, penal substitution for various moral influence notions.[4]

In their support of liberation theology, Christopher Rowland and Mark Corner do not quite advocate jettisoning a concern for exegesis, but they put the emphasis on purposive interpretation.  They advocate, for example, that the poor in Brazil should locate Jesus’ parables in a Brazilian context to draw out a contemporary meaning for the poor:

Throughout these readings of the parables there runs the conviction that Bible study is above all understanding what God is saying today.  In this process there are three key elements’: (1) reality, the social situation in which the Bible is read; (2) the Bible; (3) the community.[5]

In their approach to interpretation, Rowland and Corner appropriate the Biblical stories for a pre-established purpose: The mission of the Church as the people of God is to be on the side of the marginalized.’[6] They quote Carlos Mesters’ threefold approach to reading the Bible—see, judge, act—in Basic Christian Communities without scholarly or ecclesiastical input:

The principle objective of reading the Bible is not to interpret the Bible but to interpret life with the help of the Bible.[7]

Clodovis Boff argues for two approaches to interpretation: correspondence of terms and correspondence of relationships.[8]  He rejects the former, which is apparently what Mesters’ allows.  It finds equivalent situations in the contemporary situation to the Biblical text: the Sadducees are the bourgeoisie, the zealots are the revolutionaries, Roman power is contemporary imperialism (e.g., the USA), Jesus represents the Christian community, Egypt is oppression, exodus is liberation, the cross is political assassination, and so on.  While this approach is at times followed by some, Boff rejects it as not respecting the original Biblical contexts and not allowing for the complexity of the contemporary situation or our improved social analysis in the 20^th century.

Instead, Boff argues, Scripture should be interpreted for correspondence of relationships.  This involves understanding how the early Christian community understood itself in its political context and looking for how this corresponds to our current political context/s.  For example, just as Paul applied the exodus to Christian baptism, so Nicaraguan Christians were right to apply the exodus story to the overthrow of Somoza in 1979.[9]  Boff rejects the conviction required by anyone locating Biblical authority in the nature of the text as God’s Word; he rejects the belief that meaning is to be found in the author’s intention.  Instead, the context of interpreters keeps changing, and therefore the meaning of the text will keep changing.[10]

According to South African scholar, Gerald West, biblical scholars and ordinary readers need to engage in a creative dialogue to find relevant meaning.[11]  This will involve research in Biblical studies of a certain kind, research to arrive at social commitments, such as:

·       Liberation Theology: Liberation hermeneutics required commitment to experience of the poor and marginalized;

·       Postmodernism: Readers should turn from finding the elusive ‘right’ reading to the ‘useful’ reading and shift from ‘epistemology to ethics, truth to practices, foundations to consequences’;^[12]

·       Reader-Response Interpretation: The reader ‘creates’ meaning, not merely ‘receives’ it.

West concludes that Contextual Bible study requires a willingness to be ‘partially constituted by each other’s subjectivities.’^[13]

More recently, some scholars have begun to speak of a ‘public theology’.  This is advocated by a variety of scholars in Africa as they move from a purely liberation theology to a more extensive theology of relevance that addresses issues of social justice.[14]  These might include past theologies of the poor, feminism, and post-colonialism, but there are many specific issues to consider, such as corruption or race relations.  In one definition of public theology, the aim is to remove the sacred secular divide so that the Church is relevant in and for the wider community, including in concerns for social justice.^[15]  Public Theology is, however, something of a wax nose, capable of being shaped one way or another.  It advocates holistic theology and relevance, which is fine in itself, but without clarifying commitments to Biblical authority, orthodoxy, ecclesiology, and methods of interpretation.  It can, therefore, be assumed to be one thing by Evangelicals and quite another thing by persons with beliefs at odds with orthodox Christianity.  Activism is able to turn questions away from theology and Biblical authority and to activities and their results instead of being concerned with their connections through hermeneutical clarity and authoritative convictions.

Throughout this discussion of hermeneutics, the ideological interests of readers, framed in terms of liberation and social relevance/justice, have been highlighted as the major characteristic for Progressive Theology’s interpretation.  Also highlighted has been what might be called ‘listening’.  This is not the mid-twentieth century’s New Hermeneutic, which, in the face of existential readings of Scripture, advocated listening to the Biblical text.  Progressive Theology is concerned with listening to the readers.  ‘Listening’ was a feature of South Africa’s Reconciliation Commission immediately after the Apartheid era.  It has been called ‘Indaba’ in an attempt to locate it in a non-Western context, but it is very much the stuff of Western philosophical and cultural commitments, as discussed in Part Two of this essay in particular.  The Church of England, facing division between orthodox Christians and Progressives (including some claiming to be ‘Evangelical’), has been engaged in ‘shared conversations’ in which people are supposed to hear different views on sexuality.  This dynamic involves an intention of hearing the stories of ‘victims’, seeing them as human, having empathy for their circumstances, and igniting a desire for communal embrace rather than exclusion.  This illustrates well the role of experiential listening in Progressive Theology.  It replaces commitments to Biblical exposition and ecclesiastical teaching and is eager to reform both in light of the community’s shared conversations.  In this way, such positive terms like ‘shared’, ‘listening’, ‘welcoming’, ‘conversations’, ‘empathy’, and so forth become vehicles for undermining the clear teaching of Scripture and the witness of the Church for the past two thousand years.  Like the Modern Art form of Futurism, as noted in Part Two, Progressive Theology is an angry rejection of the old and an embracing of a future—in this case, the sexual revolution of Western society.

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[1] See ‘Living in Love and Faith,’ The Church of England; online at: https://www.churchofengland.org/resources/living-love-and-faith (accessed 12/12/2020).

[2] E.g., James H. Cone, A Black Theology of Liberation (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1990; originally pub. 1970).

[3] Sandra M. Schneiders, ‘Feminist Hermeneutics,’ in Hearing the New Testament: Strategies for Interpretation, ed. J. Green, (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995), pp. 349-369; here pp. 349-350.

[4] Joseph Morgan-Smith, ‘Incarnational Friendship: A Feminist-   and Womanist-Inspired Revision of Luther’s “Happy Exchange” Theory of Atonement,’ Priscilla Papers (January 30, 2017); online at: https://www.cbeinternational.org/resource/article/priscilla-papers-academic-journal/incarnational-friendship-feminist-and-womanist.

[5] Christopher Rowland and Mark Corner, Liberating Exegesis: The Challenge of Liberation Theology to Biblical Studies (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1989), pp. 12-13.

[6] Ibid., p. 15.

[7] Carlos Mesters, ‘Como se faz Teologia hoje no Brasil?’ Estudos Biblicos 1 (1985), p. 10.  Quoted in Rowland and Corner, p. 39.

[8] Clodovis Boff, Theology and Praxis (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2009).

[9] Cf. Rowland and Corner’s discussion of Clodovis Boff, Ibid.., p. 64.

[10] Ibid., pp. 66-67.

[11] Gerald West, ‘Reading the Bible Differently: Giving Shape to the Discourse of the Dominated,’ Semeia 73 (1996): 21-41.

[12] West, p. 27, quoting Cornel West, Prophetic Fragments (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988): 270-1.

[13] West, p. 38.

[14] See the first article in the following new journal: Sunday Bobai Agang, ‘Integrating Public Theology into African Theological Institutions’ Curricula,’ African Theological Journal Vol. 1.1 (2020): 3-21.

[15] Ibid.

What Is Progressive Theology? Part Two of Four

[This is a continuation of a four-part essay on Progressive Theology that seeks to explain what it is and to show its faults.]

Understanding Progressive Theology as Art

The work of theology has been understood as the interpretation of sacred texts, God’s revelation in Scripture.  Tools and methods for this study involve learning Greek and Hebrew, studying ancient literature to understand the historical and cultural context, and the intertextual study of Biblical texts within the canon of Scripture.  It has also been understood as the clarification of Scripture and the Church’s teaching at different times and in different cultures.  Such theological study requires an understanding of official Church teaching in its history.  Progressive theology, on the other hand, understands theology as activism, a response to social injustices and an up-to-date articulation of contemporary beliefs to support the activism.  What is allegedly needed for such an undertaking is a Critical Theory to march through the theology and Church of the past and on to the social justices of the future.

The recent formation of a far-left denomination, an extension of an already theologically left United Methodism, offers an example of what is taking place with Progressive Theology.  However, Progressive Theology is a deconstructive activism in all traditions, including ‘Evangelicalism’.  It is not Christian but poses as Christian.  This denomination, the Liberation Methodist Connexion, is just one example, but its extremes offer a helpful understanding of its inclinations.  The post-Christian mainline denominations are other, open examples of Progressive Theology, even though their decline originated in Liberal Theology.  In Evangelical circles, it is rather an undercurrent that pulls people away from Christian faith through progressive campaigns and activism that replace fundamental beliefs, the Church, and its mission.

According to the website of the Liberation Methodist Connextion, they are ‘journeying to a new way of being followers of Christ that refute the imbalance of powers, principalities, and privileges that have plagued Methodism: colonialism, white supremacy, economic injustices, patriarch, sexism, clericalism, ableism, agism, transphobia, and heteronormativity.’  Liberation Theology is an odd mix of modernity and postmodernity, a totalizing theology that aims to undermine power of any sort, as listed.  Like the Marxism it admires, it originates in the progressive ideological views of the Modernist nineteenth century but develops as a Postmodern deconstructivism.  The LMC description continues a little later with ‘LMX theology is not written in stone because our human understanding continues to evolve as we deepen our personal and collective understandings of God.’  If so, I would suggest that the better term for this is ‘art’.

Another writer, Jeremy Rios, has also suggested that we begin to speak of ‘Progressive Theology’ distinct from any meaning of the word ‘liberal’.  He suggests the following description of it: (1) theology is making progress, (2) finds experience to be the primary authority over Scripture, tradition, and reason, (3) prioritizes the love command in ethical matters, (4) sees Christian witness as not so much about salvation from sin as about its ‘woke’ witness of ‘inclusion, LGBTQ rights, marriage equality [homosexual marriage], … female clergy’ and (often) pro-choice advocacy, and (5) finds traditional theology to be a bondage.[1]  Such a definition does capture Progressive Theology somewhat, although points 1, 2, and 3 in particular could be said of Liberalism.  The key distinction between the two lies in that the latter was the theology of Western Modernity, an Enlightenment theology that intended to replace orthodox theology.  If so, Progressive Theology is the theology of Postmodernity, and point 4 is the most relevant in that regard.

As an artistic endeavour, Progressive Theology is not academic study or rational thought but the sort of activism one finds in certain types of art.  The types of art are those that might themselves be called ‘progressive’, such as expressionism, fauvism, futurism, cubism, collage, and dadaism.  What is needed is a different way to conceive of theology altogether than in terms of doctrines and academic study. Artists in these movements were both producers of art and social activists (or many were): the connection between art and activism is actual, not strained.

Collectively, these artistic movements are termed ‘Modern Art’.  Its origins were in the late 19^th century, with artists like Vincent van Gogh and Paul Cézanne, and its key development began in the early 20^th century with artists like Henri Matisse and Pablo Picasso.  Modern Art might be defined broadly as a rejection of the past and an experimentation in art that emphasized abstraction.  It entailed a move away from the subject—what was painted—to the viewer.  In literary terms, it was a move away from the author and the text to the reader, involving a reader-response hermeneutic.  While the term ‘modern’ was applied to these artistic movements, they really represented artistic expression that opposed Modernity.  They were ‘modern’ in the sense of being something new and different from Modernity, and so they represent in art what would later be termed ‘postmodern’ in philosophical and cultural studies. 

Several characteristics might be highlighted from the different Modern Art movements in the pursuit of defining Progressive Theology, considered as a theological medium prioritizing the observer/reader in the pursuit of particular types of social activism.  Fauvism, Futurism, and Expressionism together illustrate the turn in Modern Art from representation, naturalism, realism to an anthropocentric, unnatural, and abstract visionary experience for the observer, who is made a participant.  Fauvism, developed by Matisse and André Derain, advanced from Impressionism’s (e.g., Claude Monet) still realistic characteristics to Fauvism’s (‘les fauves’ means ‘the wild beasts’ in French) use of pronounced and unnatural colours (e.g., Matisse’s Le bonheur de vivre (‘Happiness of Life’, 1905-1906) or Jean Metzinger’s Paysage coloré aux oiseaux aquatiques (‘Colourful Landscape with Water Birds,’ 1907). 

Futurism, like the much later Postmodern Art, embraced a wide variety of mediums for art.  Begun with the publication of the poet, Filippo Tommaso Marinetti’s ‘Manifesto of Futurism’, the short-lived, mostly Italian movement was primarily an angry rejection of the past—of anything old—and harmony and an embracing of the new in the early 20^th century: youthfulness, science, technology, speed, violence, the city (versus nature).  Umberto Boccioni’s The City Rises (1910) captures many of these characteristics.

Expressionism is an artform that originated in Germany in the early 20^th century.  Its key feature was a move away from realism to subjectivism.  One might contrast the Neoclassical work of Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingre (1780-1867) to expressionist artists.  Ingre meticulously depicted on the canvas the actual folds of linen or peacock feathers in his La Grande Odalisque (1814).  Expressionism turned to the observer, not the subject, seeking to affect emotions and responses through ‘distortion, exaggeration, primitivism, and fantasy and through the vivid, jarring, violent, or dynamic application of formal elements.’[2]  Instead of Ingre’s objectivity, one might compare the evocatory colours, brush strokes, and scenes in Vincent van Gogh’s paintings, or the emotional fear and horror of Edvard Munch’s The Scream.

Progressive Theology is not interested in the technical detail of the interpretation of texts through linguistic and historical analysis characteristic of the Modern, Enlightenment period of Biblical studies.  Nor is it interested in the faithful representation of orthodox theology of the Church.  It even rejects the past to embrace the progress into the future.  It locates its value in what is produced in the reader as social activist.  It is also critical of the historical-critical method of Biblical studies for its over-emphasis on scientific methods—‘criticisms’—because this imagines that scholarship can be conducted objectively, without presuppositions, and produce assured results.  Moreover, such results are considered ‘inconvenient’ if they do not produce the sort of emotions needed for a particular activism that is expected.  Progressive Theology is also critical of traditional Christian theology, which accepts that presuppositions and perspectives needed to be understood and evaluated.  Its problem with traditional Christianity is that it is too beholden to Biblical interpretation and the theology of the Church when what is desired is the activism of Public Theology.

Cubism, an art form developed in the early 20^th century by Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque, incorporates multiple perspectives into the artwork.  Unlike more realistic presentation, such as still life and landscape art, cubism ventured further than Impressionism to explore perspectival representation.  If presentation followed rational and objective categories of space and time, thus rendering art that is realistic (a presentation in art of what is seen in reality), cubism re-presents the object from different angles in space and different moments in time.  Representation in cubism moves from exploring perspectives to being distortive to such an extent that the original object is itself lost.  One might compare Picasso’s Girl with a Mandolin and Portrait of Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler, both produced in 1910.  The former does still capture the form of a girl with a mandolin, whereas any expected physical features of a person in a portrait are lost in the representation of the latter work.

Picasso also introduced collage into art, and thus an aspect of Progressive Theology, too, is its hermeneutic of appropriation (to be discussed later).  The use of collage entails rearranging what others have already produced and, in the process, creating art.  Taking pictures and words from printed matter involves something not intended as creative work; the collage or arrangement in a new work is intended to introduce the creativity necessary for artwork.  Progressive Theology is often simply a collage, a rearrangement of authors, ideas, images, texts, and so forth.  Audiences are taken in by the pseudo-intellectual breadth, the connectivity of words or ideas, or the reappropriation of Biblical texts for new situations without regard to original intent.  Arrangement, like cut flowers, produces a work of art; arrangement of theologians or authors produces a creative theological expression.  I once heard a lecture by a world-renowned theologian who chose a reading from a survivor of the Holocaust and a reading from Friedrich Nietzsche, who is, at times, associated with the rise of Nazism.  The ‘theology’ presented in the lecture was nothing more than a creative arrangement of past authors that involved shock and aesthetic value.  Any reasoning in the lecture was secondary, it was, in this case, pure conjecture.  It had no Biblical grounds or historical theological references.  It was an evocative arrangement of quotations and ideas.  Many people in the audience were, nonetheless, taken in for the rhetorical power of the lecture.  Collage theology is Progressive where the value appears in the artistry, not in the interpretation of texts, as in traditional (and orthodox) theology or in the scientific analysis of claims in texts, as in Modernity (with its liberal theological outcomes).  Some Biblical text is set alongside some Greek philosopher not because there is a textual relationship and not because the ideas of one are contextually relevant for the other but in order to create something new, a point relevant to the present age.

In the post-World War I period, Dadaism brought a political dimension to art through its deconstruction of logic and reason by embracing chaos and the irrational.  Dadaism rejected an understanding of art as aesthetics—the idea that it should be appealing or pleasing.  An example might be the anti-art of Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain (1917), which depicts Politically, the movement was a response to capitalism, colonialism, and nationalism.  It was a nihilistic, artistic response to the world that produced the explosive destruction of World War I.[3]

Like Dadaism’s anti-aestheticism, Progressive Theology is anti-worshipful.  Its concept of social justice requires too much anger to be oriented in doxology.  The nature of its focus on justice in the public square wants from the Church only its endorsement of the rebellion against power structures in the public sphere.  As Dadaism was an anti-art, Progressive Theology is an anti-Church movement.  What produced the Church over the centuries by, say, the mid-20^th century is now considered something to be undermined: the mainline denominations, the theology of orthodoxy, the hymnody of historic worship, the commitments to faithful interpretation of sacred texts, the mission of Christianity carried forward, the unity of the Church in orthodoxy.  What one gets from the 1960s on in the west is a steady decline in the mainline denominations due to their own rejection of their heritage along with an embrace of a ‘public theology’ that traces the values of secular society over what was, once, a Protestant expression of Christian orthodoxy.  As Dadaism’s value lay in its anti-war politics, so Progressive Theology lies in its advocacy for social justice: only the conclusions are heard, not the arguments.  The arguments are artistic presentations that make the point, and the point is what really matters.  The Church itself does not matter, only social justice as currently defined by the culture.  Even the local church matters little: it becomes a worship service with a few programmes, but the activity of the local church is disseminated into what the culture is doing such that the Church fades into obscurity.  Believers are expected to get motivated and directed in the church’s meetings, but to find their activism in groups in the culture.  In other words, the church is itself not a social ethic—to reference Stanley Hauerwas once again.[4]

Summary

·       Progressive Theology treats theology as a medium of expression, like art—especially various forms of so-called Modern art (which are really postmodern).

·       Progressive Theology is not interpretation of sacred texts or clarification of Scripture and the Church’s teaching in different contexts but is activism in response to social injustices that moves the culture along a progressive trajectory.

·       Progressive Theology is an extension of liberation theologies into new areas, a continuous postmodern deconstruction of religion, ethics, institutions, culture, and so forth, as hoped for in Critical Theory (Cultural Marxism).

·       Like Futurism, it rejects the old to embrace progress into the future.  It does so through Critical Theory, a cultural Marxism associated with Antonio Gramsci and the Frankfort School that recently has been applied in particular to race.  It is, similarly, anti-natural in its embrace of a more anthropocentric vision (identity politics and ecclesiology, multiculturalism, gender identity versus biology, science versus morality).

·       Progressive Theology includes a deconstruction of Christian theology and ethics and an undefined, as yet undetermined, future for humanity.  It does not offer an alternative set of doctrines so much as an alternative conceptualization of theology and social activism.  It is more like activist artistic movements.

o   It is a move from realism to subjectivism (evoking emotions and responses from the observer more than to represent the subject) and therefore using distortion, exaggeration, primitivism, and fantasy.  It is inoculated against criticism and undercuts any ‘right’ interpretation of Scripture or notion of orthodoxy in the Church and replaces these with effectiveness in the social justice activism of the day.

o   Like Cubism, it incorporates multiple perspectives and intends to ‘re-present’ (present differently) the subject from different perspectives.  This is where intersectionality, diversity, and multiculturalism become cultural values, and the original object (Scripture, orthodoxy) is distorted or even altogether lost.

o   Like collage (and Postmodern Art), Progressive Theology has multiple familiar elements that have been appropriated (repurposed, rearranged, differently combined, etc.) to produce something artistic and new.  Viewers sense the vaguely familiar—in liturgy, in the reading of Scripture, in theological terminology—but everything is infused with alternative meaning (such as ‘atonement’, ‘resurrection’, ‘social justice’, etc.).

o   Like Dadaism, Progressive Theology embraces chaos and the irrational to deconstruct reason and logic.  It rebels against whatever is considered hegemonic, patriarchal, and authoritative as forms of ‘ableism’—systems enabling injustice.

Having offered this comparison in the interest of clarifying what Progressive Theology is, the next task is to look at Progressive Theology’s hermeneutic in greater detail.  In Postmodern Art (post-1970), a key characteristic is appropriation, which will help in defining Progressive Theology’s hermeneutics.

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[1] Jeremy Rios, ‘Let Define “Progressive Theology”, Mustard Seed Faith Blog (7 September, 2018); online at: https://jmichaelrios.wordpress.com/2018/09/07/lets-define-progressive-theology/.

[2] ‘Expressionism,’ Encyclopaedia Britannica; online at: https://www.britannica.com/art/Expressionism (accessed 19 November, 2020).

[3] Following Dadaism, Surrealism continued to explore the irrational and subconscious but without the social anger.  Salvador Dali’s The Persistence of Memory (1931) depicted melting watches, exploring in art what Sigmund Freud did in psychotherapy with the unconscious or dreams.

[4] Stanley Hauerwas, The Peaceable Kingdom, p. 99.