Theological Pursuit
“We are all theologians.” This was the spicy retort I received from our boarder when I corrected her on the ministry of C. S. Lewis. Technically, I had intoned, Lewis was an apologist and not a theologian. Her response, full of vinegar, expressed a common cliché disseminated in some circles to encourage the layperson that they too are engaging in theological work.
In the specific field of theological formation, Lewis never produced works of systematic or biblical theology as such. His work entailed a defence of Christian thinking with respect to unbelievers or believers seeking a foundation for their faith. Yes, you could call some of his work theology. I would not call him a theologian in the same realm as Karl Barth, Millard Erickson, or N. T. Wright, though Wright calls himself a historian, not a theologian.
There are essentially four types of theology. The four types include biblical theology, historical theology, systematic theology and practical theology. Systematic theology and practical theology are held in tension. Practical theology works to bring theological learning at the academic level into the actual experience and needs of the Christian community. Biblical theology places its emphasis on the teachings of the individual authors and books of the Bible. Historical theology is the study of the history of Christian doctrine, examining the origins and developments of belief in the present day. Finally, systematic theology is concerned with the doctrinal traditions of the faith.
We can see that the self-identification of some as theologians becomes somewhat more difficult as we attempt to define theology itself. My point is, we are not all theologians in the formal sense. We may be apologists, like Lewis, with a solid doctrinal platform. We may be pastors who like to read theology and listen to lectures from esteemed intellects. We may be laypersons who enjoy an intense debate about heaven, hell, judgment or salvation around a cup of coffee. But we are not all theologians.
What qualifies a person to be a theologian? Merely declaring yourself to be something does not make it so. I have often called myself a historian. Yet a historian is someone who studies and writes about the past and is regarded as an authority on it. So, my initial reaction to the original question is that a theologian is someone who studies religion, examines the human experience of faith, and writes about it. Quite simply, a theologian is someone who studies God. The key to your identification as a theologian in the academic world is whether others consider you an authority on the matter of God.
Perhaps implying an individual needs to write a volume on a theological theme goes too far. If by pursuing God and knowing everything we can about him makes us theologically keen, then our passion for God makes us theologians. Indeed, you may be pursuing God through the writings of the scholars and, of course, the Scriptures themselves, and never thought to give it a title other than godliness. “As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (Psalm 42:1–2a ESV). Who cares what you call it? You want more of God!
In this issue of Theodidaktos, we will examine the teaching letter that was authorized by the Board of Leadership and Outreach and penned by Conference Pastor Layton Friesen. The four articles are a response to the four theological concerns that our conference leaders have wrestled with in recent times: salvation through Christ alone, heaven, hell, and judgment. You would think that such fundamental doctrines held for centuries past by the church of Christ would need no further analysis. However, we know that every generation of believer needs to wrestle with our understanding of God and his work in the world. We need to own it. Owning these truths means unpacking and repacking them with a contemporary language that speaks these ancient truths in a twenty-first century tongue.
You will note that the writers do not automatically submit to the doctrines as presented by Friesen. There may be pushback on wording, on interpretation, or on a doctrinal emphasis. On the one hand, these responses are typical of our hypercritical culture where nothing is accepted as written by educated readers. On the more positive side, how wonderful that we can have a conversation about the wonders of God and refine each other through meaningful engagement.
Are we theologians? I would not be so bold as to claim this title. But we are thirsting for God and desirous of his sanctifying presence. Come and drink with us.