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There’s a whole academic sub-discipline of theological study called practical theology. It’s exactly what it sounds like. The goal is to shift attention away from abstract and qualitative ideation to instead focus on concrete and quantitative application. Practical theologians seek to address what they perceive as a disconnect between lofty academic theory and the real, everyday beliefs and practices occurring within actual church communities.1 Most every topic is discussed with an eye on urgent, pragmatic utility… yyyyyyyyyyeah. I fuckin’ hate practical theology. I really do.
I’ll give you a real-life example of why practical theology vexes my soul. More times than I can count I’ve been asked, “Are you pro-life or pro-choice?” My go-to response is, “That question requires getting into a deeper understanding of the Kingdom of God. We’re made in God’s image and beloved by our Creator, so all human life is sacred and has innate dignity. I stand with the earliest Christians in holding a robust ethic of life from womb to tomb.” Here’s the point where their eyes inevitably glaze over, so they interrupt and insist I directly answer the simple question.
This is when I reply, “Because of the imago dei, the radical nonviolence of the Kingdom, and the common good, I support public policies like diplomacy, mandatory background checks, a strong social safety net, quality sex ed., universal healthcare, and reforming adoption and immigration laws while I oppose shitty interpretations of the second amendment, the death penalty, nuclear proliferation, landmines, euthanasia, and–I’ve got all sorts of caveats on this one, OK?–but, yeah, most abortion. I reject your premise. There’s nothing simple about that stuff.” See the problem?
The reason I can’t stand practical theology is because the world is complex. We’re all blinded by our presuppositions, biases, and prejudices. The only way I know to overcome that is to invest a ton of time doing slow study with impractical reflection and curious, open-ended conversation. You can’t do that if you’re constantly 1) simplifying, 2) caught up in the urgency of the moment, and 3) demanding instantaneous application. Yes, I understand that theology can get too bloody esoteric.2 That’s a valid criticism, but even more dumb, Western pragmatism is not the answer.
The original beatniks weren’t overly interested in the practical application of their writings. They valued unexpected, creative wandering, which is a quality I love. As for beatnik Christianity, the way I do spiritual formation doesn’t give people principles and skills for immediate application but makes those principles and skills available whenever they might one day be needed.3 It’s about teaching Jesus followers how to countercultually think, feel, and believe for a whole host of unexpected scenarios rather than what to think, feel, and believe in a specific situation.4
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It’s about moving from conceptual frameworks to lived experiences.↩
A classic example from Church history is, “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?” I crap you not. Thomas Aquinas really did have a strong opinion on the matter. It’s little wonder his theology makes me nauseous. Gotta love them medieval scholastics.↩
Think of it like having a hammer, screwdriver, wrench, pliers, tape measure, utility knife, cutter, small pry bar, chisel, tape, Sharpie and/or pencil, and level on your spiritual tool belt. Life takes all sorts of interesting twists and turns, so you never quite know what projects will come up. That’s part of the fun. However, it’s always helpful to have the right tools available and possess basic competence at using them when they are needed.↩
Just once I want to hear a preacher admit, “I have no clue how you should apply this or how we should apply this. It will depend upon an unbelievably complex constellation of variables, so it’s gonna require us individually and communally to exercise wisdom and discernment. What I’m doing is offering you a principle, then it’s up to you guys to prayerfully wrestle with it in your friendships, marriages, families, Sunday school classes, small groups, therapy sessions, and spiritual direction sessions. It’s not my job to spoon feed you. It’s my job to offer the meal.” I’d attend that church.↩
