Critique the following definition of theology: "Theology is talk about God."

Technically, the origin of the word 'theology' is the two cognates 'God' and 'word(s)' meaning a study of or discourse on God. Yet, historically, and more to the point in the present context, this simple definition remains problematic. Historically, the discipline of theology, as in Clement of Alexandria and other earlier Christian writers, was simply discussion on self-definition (revelation) of their God in contrast to the polytheistic and mythological culture. In this case, theology was reflection on the worship and practice of the church (lex orandi, lex credendi (p 188)). Other uses of the term included more specific discourse on the identity of the specifically monotheistic God, roughly equivalent to the later established subset of Christian doctrine called 'The Doctrine of God' (Chapter 9). This process of trying to define or identify in rational terms the Christian notion of God (and thereby all of existence (onto-theology)) began to call for more abstract and increasing philosophical arguments on the nature of God. A growing split between theology as reflection and theology as construction or faith as lived and faith as intellectual exercise begins to show. This is also seen in the shift of how and to whom theology is written, from occasional works dealing with pertinent topics and issues (even the creeds are this) written for the faithful or to those living in Christian community such as monks to massive constructions of abstract and speculative thought such as Thomas Aquinas' Summa Theologia written by and large for a select few (although many recent scholars point out the more accessible works of Aquinas as counter-evidence to this trend). The formation of the western universities brought the term into a broader use, in congruence with the increasing constructive abstraction of the original usage of the term, so as to embrace all Christian doctrines, not just the doctrine of God. At this point, theology became synonymous with the Rahner definition given 'as the science of faith, ' meaning a methodical explication and explanation (hence, scientific) of the entire scope of divine revelation grasped by Christians in the act of faith.
The above split of theology's audience, initially the worshipping church and later the intellectual world, brought about several major issues in theology. The first is bred in the bones of theology's early prominence in the western academy being the increasing isolation of theology as a science from theology as praxis. With the shift to the academy, theology, in some opinions, lost touch with the church it was supposed to serve. The Enlightenment challenged the esteemed place of the discipline and its claims to universal explanatory power in matters of existence. Philosophy, once a 'hand-maiden' (ancilla) to theology, was thought to be the sole judge of 'Truth' through the premises of universal reason (pp 89-93 and then post-modernity pp 112-115) and challenged the historical particularity of Christianity's 'articles of faith' as a mode of such a universal principle (p 383-386). Theology, to remain credible in such an environment, continued to move further away from its origins in church life and praxis, and began seeking foundations in other human sciences (p 101-104). 'Theology' expanded to include the study of the phenomenon (experience) of religion, initially almost exclusively Christian in preoccupation (although the 19th century did see work on the analogy of Christian faith to classical philosophy and a little inter-religious dialogue) but presently in our more pluralist context, Christian theology is but one aspect of a greater 'religious studies' programme. This reflects the post-Enlightenment preoccupation with method, particularly the justification of the grounds of theology or the 'how' we can know God rather than the more classical methodological approach of 'what' we know of God derived from revelation (pp 148-149).
There is also another challenge to the use of the word 'theology' in its broad sense from feminists who think theology, in microcosm and as a symptom of a wider gender exclusion, is rife with masculine identity concepts and instead use the term 'thealogy' (from the feminine form of God)

What appears to be the most useful way forward in the present context is to add the adjective 'Christian' to theology when one refers to what has been in the Christian west the discipline of theology. This has the two major benefits. First, it tries to take seriously that Christianity is not an abstract philosophy but something lived by communities of faith who reflect on that faith as given and as creative in response. This tries to re-root the praxis base of the discipline. Second, it assumes that 'theology' is talk about or study of the Christian God who is revealed in Jesus Christ and testified in Scripture and Christian tradition if Orthodox or Catholic. It is this latitude of investigation that makes theology so dangerous and so exciting, and perhaps even a prayerful discipline once again.

What difficulties with the idea of theology as an academic discipline lie behind the growing interest in spirituality within the churches and seminaries?

The emergence of theology as an academic discipline, with its own language (e.g., Latin in the medieval period), technical language and conceptuality, created a schism from the earliest forms of theology found in the writing of St Paul and the early church fathers. The early forms of theology, for various reasons such as simple identification and clarification of practices, seemed to be rooted in church life in style and approach. Even if the intended audience, as with the early apologists, were not Christian, the intent was clarification of Christian belief or description rather than the prescription of an inclusive thought system. In short, the early apologists argued that 'this is what we Christians think or do and why.' Following this the earliest Christian communities of scholars - monastic houses - wrote theology in order to assist their members further in the disciplines of Christian living. Theology was orientated to praxis, not theoria. The concept of the university (knowledge of all things) altered theology's role, shifting its audience from the faithful to the academic. This shift, exacerbated by the Enlightenment's critique of Christianity and theology's retreat to a more inclusive ground for its discipline, has, in turn, as Edward Farley points out, created further seemingly disjointed sub-disciplines of biblical studies, historical theology, systematic and philosophical theology, pastoral theology, spirituality and even ethics. Each arguably takes their cue from a dominant non-Christian mode of reasoning or method of interpretation of data. These include sociology, anthropology, history or ancient near-Eastern studies, psychology and various forms of philosophies. There is even a new form called neuro-theology that looks to the human brain structure as the ground of religious experience. Of course, how much prolegomena (p 148) each mode of reasoning or method assumes or how prescriptive that foundation is to Christian theological method varies in each technical field. But that is exactly the point at which the academic discipline of theology seems so profoundly to veer off from its roots as a discipline which serves the church - the apparent need for so much additional training in order to make sense of it all and the great distance this seems from the felt needs of spirituality and even ethics makes the connection a remote one.

This problem, while acute today, is not new to the Christian west. Recall that many understand the Reformation as an antidote to sterile scholasticism, while the pietist and revivalist movements are likewise argued to be reactions to greater theological obscurantism of Protestant hyper-orthodoxy. Renewal movements in Eastern Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism, and in the later Vatican II, are also attempts to redress this imbalance in these traditions. Even the massive work of Karl Barth is an attempt to address this gap between academy and church with his insistence that the rigorous thinking of the theologian, biblical scholar, pastor and ethicist (he doesn't break the disciplines into sub-disciplines) is really directed to and rooted in the church and its life in response to revelation - hence the name of his work being 'Church Dogmatics' (To further illustrate this point he originally called it Christian Dogmatics). Barth is unique in the modern period, if only for the vision (and execution) with which he understands and proceeds with theology as a science of the church (p 149). Nonetheless, the pendulum swing of 'academic' and 'church' theology seems as old as the church.

Finally, the idea that the fruit of an academic theology results only in a sterile spiritual life must be challenged, for this begs the question of what spirituality is. For many, spirituality is a quasi-mystical transformation of the self as a result of profound experiences of God in sacrament, individual or communal life. However, many theologians and Christians, especially committed to liberation themes, would argue that spirituality must be extended to ethics in more concrete and systemic rather than individual ways. In this case, the bridge between theoretical or academic theology and spirituality is the direct involvement of the Christian in political or ideological struggles. Therefore, a strong case can be made that liberation style theologies are, in fact, attempts to concretize academic theology and are 'spiritual' or 'praxis' based, geared towards assisting the Christian community in its struggle to live in relevance as the church.

Explain the role played by the following in the development of theology: Peter Lombard's Sentences, John Calvin's Institutes, and the work of F. D. E. Schleiermacher.

In each of the above theologians there is the concatenation of a wider theological approach which signals either a mode of method or a new direction in method. Lombard's Sentences is usually given as the first example of a theological textbook organized in such a manner as to give scholasticism its method and theological outlook (pp 34, 36-39). Although it is largely a collection of writings from Scripture and patristic writers (notably Augustine) the influence of the text flows from its central role in theological education as other 'commentaries' on the text became part of the theological purview of the time. Lombard's genius was in juxtaposing difficult texts and ideas for the student to debate and thereby stressing a logical and rational explanation for theological positions. The main themes of Christian faith, previously articulated by the creeds and in catechism, become considerations of method surveying all theological themes. Calvin, on the other hand, represents a different tack in method, although his work is no less rational in presentation. His Institutes, going through numerous editions and revision, sets a standard for Protestant theologians to the modern period with an emphasis of a solely Scriptural account of theology, less concerned with philosophical proofs and more concerned with exegesis. Of course, he uses patristic sources as well and implicitly philosophical themes but the mark of the work is its attempt to be an exegetically based work trying to make sense of the central theme of God's revelation in Christ (p 75). Schleiermacher's work marks a new approach in theology altogether, this being reinforced even in his title The Christian Faith (Der christliche Glaube). Schleiermacher shifts the focus of Christian theology from Christian doctrines as descriptions of Christian faith to Christian experience as prescriptive in relation to those doctrines. The 'how' of that experience becomes central reversing the earlier creedal, scholastic and reformer's preoccupation with 'what' or 'who' of theology. The issue of prolegomena becomes tantamount.

Many commentators make much of the issue of how the material in the three texts is presented, for in that one notes commitments to method. For example, Lombard's work follows a form beginning with the Trinity (God before creation), then creation and fall to the incarnation and lastly to the church and eschatology. It is argued that this system is based on the Platonic philosophy of reditio, the return of creation to God with the incarnation and subsequently church fulfilling the place of platonic gnosis or remembrance. The stress here is on a non-Christian schema (although counter-arguments derived from the ecumenical creeds also follow this order). Calvin, and Melanchthon, likewise, places Christology or redemption at the center of the doctrines of God and the church but works from a model based on an exegesis of St Paul's Romans with its exploration of God, law-redemption and the church. The stress here is on exegesis from a biblical text and on the centrality of Christ and his work as the revelation of God. Most notably Schleiermacher varies the organization of the material, famously placing the doctrine of the Trinity at the end of his theological work almost as an addendum reinforcing the methodological assumption that what is imperative in method is not revelation (for the Trinity is the most revealed of all Christian claims) but experience. Simply or crudely put, Schleiermacher's programme of absolute dependence does not necessarily imply a notion of the Trinity. Finally, Barth represents the reaction to Schleiermacher's method in that he returns to the reformation's form of systematic exposition. In this case, the Trinity becomes, once more, the beginning of an exploration of who the God of the Christians is. For Barth, 'God' is properly the revelation of the 'Father, Son and Holy Spirit'. Theology becomes an exploration of that identity as given in revelation and grasped by faith through Jesus Christ.

Do you have to be Christian to be a Christian theologian?

The answer to this question is really dependent on how one understands the adjective 'Christian'. Many conservative theologians understand this to mean assent to Christian doctrine (usually the ecumenical Apostles' and Nicene creeds) filtered through their tradition (such as the Augsburg Confession for Lutherans or the 39 Articles for Anglicans) and subsequent participation in the life of Christian community. The measure of Christianity is denominational 'orthodoxy and orthopraxy'. Others, thinking themselves Christian, might choose not to stress the doctrinal definitions and opt for a more open interpretation of belief clustered around a core commitment that what is truly Christian is an exampled or discipled (meaning being a disciple of Jesus) life. Once more, the stresses in the notion of 'example' or 'disciple' will vary with some opting for moral tones and others commitments to 'love' or 'forgiveness' and so forth. In this case, 'orthopraxy', living in accordance with the mandate of Jesus in a Christian community, is the definition of 'Christian'. For example, there is little doubt, even to the harshest critic of F D E Schleiermacher, that he was a committed 'churchman', serving, preaching and participating in his Reformed denomination throughout his career. His definition of 'church' may vary from his critics, but his commitment cannot be questioned. It seems then that the question of commitment is more central than the question of identity.

Commitment challenges the theologian's ability to detach from belief systems in order to do theology. Intrinsic to this definition is another built in bias, again reinforcing an issue in modern theology, which is the issue of how inclusive is the Christian claim of 'ultimate' reality or truth. Some such as Wolfhart Pannenberg argue that if Christianity's claims are true then they must be true in all areas of human life and existence. In this case, the theologian cannot ignore the critiques of all human sciences, which may claim a part of truth or challenge Christian thought, and even may have to ground or dialogue with Christian truth in those sciences. As David Tracy notes Christian truth claims cannot be granted special status but must be scrutinized in the public forum using the notions of intelligibility, justification and coherence. In this position, commitment can bias the theologian away from the objective pursuit of truth in all things.

Recent work, particularly from liberation forms of theology (feminist, womanist, black and Latin American) has challenged the above bias between commitment and truth as being both naïve and a hindrance to Christian thought. It is naïve in that no scholarship, as argued in both the postliberal (pp 118-120) and postmodern critique (pp 112-115), is immune to commitments, not even the most objective field of enquiry in the empirical sciences such as physics. It is a hindrance to theology in that it removes the 'study of God' away from its roots in the church and that God's redemptive intrusion into human history is nothing more than a clarion call to commitment. This is a reinforcement of the relationship between 'spirituality' and Christian theology mentioned earlier. More conservative theologians, albeit founded often on differing ideological ground, share this latter point. They insist that theology is nothing more or less than service to the Christian church and its praxis. To be disinterested is to miss the point of doing theology, which is an understanding (Anselm) or response geared towards enriching the mission, life and worship of the church.

More urgent in this discussion, perhaps, is not whether commitments are hindrances to an academic discipline or even to the task of theology but rather what constitutes the grounds for dialogue between one academic discipline from another. In this case, we return to the question of Tertullian 'What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?' (p 17).

Is the notion of 'heresy' now an irrelevance for Christian theology?

To speak of heresy is both to speak of a technical or historical definition and to refer to a theological concept. Heresy, technically, is usually interpreted as variance from a formal (although often very subtle) statement of doctrine associated with the rise of the Roman, Orthodox and magisterial Reformation churches. Each church had to deal, often severely, with 'heretics' in their formative periods. Historical research has attempted to denude the notion of its theological implications in favour of a political concept or definition. To be heretical was to vary in doctrine (and subsequently praxis) from the established and politically dominant church. Heresy becomes not only theological but compounded with other issues such as race, ethnicity and social status (pp 478-79). In this case, heresy is an arbitrary description of norms: norms only because they refer to those who are able to enforce orthodoxy or those have a vested socio-political interest in those norms. Schleiermacher gives a good example of a theological consideration of the concept with his definition that heresy is derivation from the essence of Christianity although it may share the appearance of Christian life and worship. It is an inadequate or incomplete from of Christian faith. In this instance, and this is debatable for many, he cites the core of Christian belief to be the redemptive act of God in Jesus Christ.

Schleiermacher's definition is particularly interesting for it gives an account of four 'organic' or natural heresies that seem to be recurrent tensions in the history of Christian theology. He proposes that the core of Christian orthodoxy is the doctrine of redemption through Christ informing all other Christian doctrines of God, Christ and humanity. Two logical options follow for heresy. A heretical doctrine is one that removes the claim that Christ alone has effected or won salvation for humanity. The following chart illustrates the possible outcomes:

Mis-stressed Christology Nature of Redeemer Nature of Redeemed
Totally God: Jesus as the Christ cannot be in need of redemption. To be the Christ is to be God. Pure divinity or unique ontological status with God. Cannot, by definition, be mixed with humanity. Therefore the incarnation is not complete and only 'appears' to be so. Humanity is left outside the life of God, and real redemption as humans (we must become divine) impossible. This is doceticism. We are fallen or material (non-spiritual) beings whose materiality must be eradicated or absorbed - not redeemed - into divinity or be transformed to true spiritual essence. This is Manichaeanism.
Totally Human: Jesus of Nazareth cannot effect redemption. To be the Christ is to refer us to God in a like manner. Emphasis is on Jesus' similarity to us. Being like us means that he must likewise be dependent on God for redemption. How, or the ground of this similitude, Jesus is dependent on God becomes the focus of investigation, usually in the form of obedience to God. This is Ebionitism. By accessing or imitating the mode of Jesus' redemption by God. Whatever allowed Jesus to be redeemed must hold true for all of humanity and therefore must be our common anthropological nature. Salvation is found by adherence to this human nature. This is Pelagianism.