2 minute read
During my Reformed phase some years ago, I read an essay by D.A. Carson containing a chart of theological progression. It showed a linear development. It started with exegesis, which led to biblical theology, then moved to historical theology, and culminated in systematic theology. The implicit message was clear: systematic theology is the pinnacle of Christian theological inquiry. As Wikipedia puts it, “Systematic theology… formulates an orderly, rational, and coherent account of the doctrines of the Christian faith.” In Western Christianity, that’s the goal.
That has never sat right with me. While I’m not denying that systematics are a valid and needed sub-discipline, I defy the Western presupposition that it is the crown jewel of Christian theology. The name itself is off-putting to my ears. On an intuitive level, “systematic theology” just sounds unnatural. It feels… calculated?… fabricated?… mechanistic? Gross. It reminds me of Treebeard‘s lament, “There was a time when Saruman would walk in my woods. But now he has a mind of metal and wheels. He no longer cares for growing things.” That isn’t the God of the Bible.
Insert: narrative theology. Again quoting Wikipedia, narrative theology holds that “Christianity is an overarching story, with its own embedded culture, grammar, and practices, which can be understood only with reference to Christianity’s own internal logic… there is also a stress upon tradition, and upon the language, culture, and intelligibility intrinsic to the Christian community.” As Jesus followers, we ground our individual identities in the Bible’s organic metanarrative and through it find our collective sense of origin, meaning, purpose, community, values, and destiny.
The postliberal theologians who first articulated narrative theology didn’t call for the abolishment of systematic theology, but instead suggested that the Western theological tradition‘s focus has long put the emPHAsis on the wrong syLLABle. Christian belief and practice shouldn’t focus on methodically dissecting the biblical texts in order to extrapolate timeless principles. To state the obvious, dissection requires death. Jesus followers should instead root their lives in the living, ongoing story by faithfully inhabiting and extending its narrative arc into the present.
The original beatniks were strong proponents of postmodern thought who valued disorganized narrative in their writings. I think of Jack Kerouac‘s 1957 stream of consciousness novel, On the Road, as a preeminent example of this style. If I could get a DeLorean up to 88 miles per hour, I’d go back and ask the members of the Beat Generation if they also had an appreciation for Jesus‘ parables, i.e. story-based teaching. My sense is that they loved all forms of poetic expression and narrative storytelling, especially using it to teach matters of faith and spirituality.
