When we, as embodied human beings, experience the world around us, we tend to make certain assumptions or begin to ask questions. A few classic questions are: “Why is there something rather than nothing?” “What is the meaning of life?” or another way to ask this is “What brings meaning to life?” “Who are these people around me and what is my relationship to them?” “What is the definition of family in such a fragmented and alienated culture?” These questions are inherently theological because they ask how we are in the world in relation to that which is not ourselves. In other words, is there anything beyond and/or outside of the individual self? And, if so, what is it?
We all ask these questions. The problem is, if we don’t take the time to explore and examine our presuppositions, then we are left with half articulated beliefs that seem proper or correct in the moment but doesn't have real substance for the long haul called life. So, when life happens and we come to the end of our understanding, we tend to either turn to anger and frustration or to simply reject faith all together; especially faith represented by the established church. I think that this is amazingly characteristic of our contemporary culture. How do we respond to this within our culture? Or, more honestly, how do we respond to this within ourselves?
Again, we ask the question, why do theology? Well, you are here at this graduate school doing a degree at this particular time and place. I assume that you are interested in theological questions or you would not be here because you would have gone to a different school. However, you are diverse in your goals. Some of you are counseling students, some are training to be pastors and some of you are not sure why you are here . (There is nothing wrong with not really knowing why you are doing a degree. That was me when I went to do my master's degree and now I'm teaching at a seminary. You never know where you'll end up!) In that context, the challenge of this class (which is my task as much as it is your task) is to learn to connect our individual questions about life, the universe and everything to the discipline and tradition of Christian theology. I will be honest. I don’t really know how to do that in a classroom, and I don’t know how to do that for each of you.
So, I would like to challenge you, to charge you with this task: work hard in this class to push your own questions outward in order to connect those personal questions to the wider tradition of theology. In the midst of this, it is OK to disagree with me, with one another and even yourself. (I saw a bumper sticker once that said: “Don’t believe everything you think.” It is a good philosophy when approaching theology!!)
I believe that theology should be transformative and even life-giving. But, in my own story, it wasn’t until theology was connected to my own questions that I could even understand the broader theological questions. In fact, it wasn’t until I connected theology and music that I became a theologian. Throughout my theological journey, I have worked to connect my questions and my ways of thinking with the traditional questions. It was hard work. I’m still working hard, and that is why I am here at Mars Hill Graduate School teaching. I want to understand how theology connects with life, with us as individuals and how the hard work of individual exploration can connect us back to a wider community that transcends time and space: throughout the world and throughout history. When we sing, when we proclaim and profess, when we preach and when we laugh and cry with one another as brothers and sisters in Christ, we do so with Christians throughout the ages and the world. We sing “Holy, holy, holy,” together in the broadest sense of that word.
Therefore, as we start this class, we need to acknowledge that we are not the first people to ask the ultimate questions. We are also not the first ones to offer answers. It is the height of arrogance to say that we understand the relationship between God and the world better than those believers that lived 50, 150 or 1500 years ago. However, we do understand the world differently. We have a different context and a different Zeitgeist. But to answer these questions in isolation, ignoring the tradition, is naïve at best. Despite our attempts to answer these questions in isolation, we should acknowledge that we all have inherited many assumptions and beliefs, often unexamined. In this class, with respect I hope, we will work to question, critique, explore and sometimes even answer these inherited presuppositions.
So, why do theology? Because it hits us in the intimate places where we live. It shapes the way we are in the world.
To the Task!
Chelle
