Spiritual Warfare against Uncertainty

Over New Year, I read John MacArthur’s (2007) The Truth War: Fighting for Certainty in an Age of Deception. The inclusion of the theme of certainty in the subtitle, as well as the general focus upon truth, makes this book of particular relevance for my literature review of evangelical publications which condemn the notions of truth at work in what I’m now calling the ‘emerging church milieu.’

Revealingly, in his subtitle MacArthur does not contrast certainty with uncertainty, but rather with “deception.” For him, not knowing is a form of unbelief and unbelief among church leaders deceives others. He writes that, “It is unbelief cloaked in a religious disguise and seeking legitimacy as if it were merely a humbler kind of faith” (xvi) and, “Advocating ambiguity, exalting uncertainty, or otherwise deliberately clouding the truth is a sinful way of nurturing unbelief” (xi). MacArthur therefore sets out to show not only the certainty of Christian truth (i.e. that “we can be supremely confident, even in this era of doubt and uncertainty” [51]) but the nature of uncertainty as unbelief.

Though the “Emerging Church Movement” is explicitly mentioned as the target of this book’s unfriendly fire, MacArthur does not engage in a thorough examination of the emerging church milieu. Rather, he limits himself to a few texts, primarily Brian McLaren’s (2004) Generous Orthodoxy, and (2001) A New Kind of Christian, Stanley Grenz and John Franke’s (2001) Beyond Foundationalism, and makes minor references to Andy Crouch’s (2004) ‘The Emergent Mystique,’ Donald Miller’s (2003) Blue Like Jazz, and Rick Warren’s (1995) The Purpose-Driven Church.

While MacArthur states that “Truth never changes with the times, but heresy always does” (100) and is clear that such heresies include Judaizers (85-88), Gnosticism (88-94), Sabellianism (100-102), and Arianism (102-115), the contemporary heresy he identifies in this book is blurred, as both the emerging church and mainstream evangelicalism are criticised.

At the conclusion of the book, contemporary evangelicalism is the clearer target: obsessed with PR and marketing approaches to packaging the gospel, overly concerned with methodology rather than theology in order to present itself as relevant and cutting edge, accommodating of political correctness, and catering to reduced attention spans (146-150, 152-154, 166).

But at the outset, the postmodernist uncertainty of the “Emerging Church Movement” is presented as the threat, where “The remodeling (sic) of our ideas about truth and certainty poses a severe danger to the heart and core of the Christian gospel” (xxiii). MacArthur states (rather than demonstrates – he does not engage any postmodernist theorists) that whilst “Postmodernists despise truth claims” (12), “Uncertainty is the new truth” (16). However, for MacArthur, both the “overconfident rationalism and human conceit” of modernity (10) and the irrationalism of postmodernity (13) are “dead wrong and equally hostile to authentic truth and biblical Christianity… Rationalism needs to be rejected without abandoning rationality” (13). Such an understanding of postmodernism, however, mistakes a desire to rethink human reason in late- or postmodernity for a wholesale rejection of reason and embracing of irrationalism.

For MacArthur, both the emerging church and the state of evangelicalism today require that “faithful Christians” (xxiv) respond through spiritual warfare, as “it is actually a sin not to fight when vital truths are under attack” (xxiv). Whilst MacArthur is not advocating physical war (28-32) – contrasting Christian spiritual warfare with Islamic (lesser) jihad and in the process ignoring Islam’s greater jihad which is spiritual in nature – he describes this warfare as “cosmic,… engaging the armies of hell, which are arrayed against Christ. Their weapons consist of lies of all kinds – elaborate lies, massive philosophical lies, evil lies that appeal to humanity’s fallen sinfulness, lies that inflate human pride, and lies that closely resemble the truth. Our one weapon is the simple truth of Christ as revealed in His Word” (49). For MacArthur, then, this war is a “Truth War” in the sense that it is a war fought against the untruth of others and a war fought with the weapons of truth.

Whilst this war is waged against evil ideas rather than against the people who believe them (180), such believers are explicitly and implicitly regarded by MacArthur as:

• “trendy thinkers” (1)
• “grossest hypocrite[s]” (37)
• “false teachers” (42)
• apostates (43-44)
• “wolves in sheep’s clothing” (44)
• “shallow and insincere people” (45)
• “those who are immature, weak, ignorant, or cowardly” (48)
• “satanic missionaries” (62)
• “spiritual terrorists and saboteurs” (82)
• “truth vandals” (97)
• “ungodly” (136)
• even lewd (120)
• power hungry (143)
• “proud” (143)
• celebrities (169)
• “confused” (178)
• “soiled underwear” (181)
• “evil” (181)
• and “no true friends of Christ” (184).
  
  

MacArthur writes, “Speaking plainly: if you are one of those who questions whether truth is really important, please don’t call your belief system ‘Christianity,’ because that is not what it is.” (xx) However, this is to misunderstand those within the emerging church milieu, who do not question the importance of truth, but rather question its nature.

MacArthur’s understanding of truth is stated as biblical in its content, its effects, and its nature. Thus, truth is “what God decrees” (183), including “the doctrine of justification by faith, the principle of substitutionary atonement, and the absolute authority and perfect sufficiency of Scripture” (47). Secondly, truth is salvific: “Truth (the simple truth of the gospel, to be specific) is necessary for salvation” (119), and salvation is understood as personal – “truth is the only thing that can liberate people from the bondage of sin and give them eternal life” (119). Thirdly, truth is an objective reality. “Truth exists outside of us and remains the same regardless of how we may perceive it. Truth by definition is as fixed and constant as God is immutable. That is because real truth (what Francis Shaeffer called ‘true truth’) is the unchanged expression of who God is; it is not our own personal and arbitrary interpretation of reality… Such a self-willed approach to the truth is tantamount to usurping God” (xx-xxi). Truth is “the way things really are” (2) and “cannot be adequately explained, recognized, understood, or defined without God as the source” (4).

But MacArthur doesn’t actually prove this latter point, he just states it. He gives a very brief history of secular philosophy: Socrates, Plato and Aristotle (truth through nature), “DesCartes” (sic) (truth through reason), Locke (truth through the senses), Kant (truth through a combination of rationalism and empiricism), and Hegel (truth as progressive evolutions), whence the irrationalism of Kierkegaard, “Nietzche” (sic), Marx and Henry James flows (6-7). He then states that, “Elaborate epistemologies have thus been proposed and methodically debunked one after another… After thousands of years, the very best of human philosophers have all utterly failed to account for truth and the origin of human knowledge apart from God.” (7). However, there is no critical engagement with these philosophers in order to demonstrate their utter failure.

On the back cover, it is claimed that this book “reveals:

• The pitfalls of postmodern thinking
• Why the Emerging Church Movement is inherently flawed
• Past skirmishes in the Truth War and their effect on the Church
• The importance of truth and certainty in a postmodern society
• How to identify and address the errors and false teachings smuggled into churches.”
  

I’m not sure The Truth War does these things to the degree hoped for by MacArthur – or even by myself, as there is not much here to get my teeth into in terms of an academic response.

MacArthur does not engage with postmodern thinking to a sufficient level to reveal its pitfalls, and does not even reference other scholars and theologians who have endeavoured to do so. His presentation of ideas within the emerging church milieu (restricted to roughly three texts, and conducted across relatively few pages) is likewise insufficient to provide a base understanding from which to demonstrate any flaws. While I agree MacArthur introduces the reader to four heresies (Judaizers, Gnosticism, Sabellianism, and Arianism) with a clarity that comes from their introductory nature, the effect of these heresies on the church is not treated with any historical or theological depth.

MacArthur signals the fervour among fundamentalists for truth and certainty in late- or postmodernity, and observes the apathy of many others concerning religious truth. He likewise paints broad brush strokes of postmodern approaches to truth. While the back cover claims MacArthur reveals the importance of truth and certainty in a postmodern society, MacArthur himself seeks to show the importance of his understanding of truth and certainty for a postmodern society. The ways in which he attempts to demonstrate this importance require the threat of damnation (133).

Finally, his advice for identifying false teachings and wolves in sheep’s clothing emphasises biblical discernment: “The only way to develop the discernment necessary for detecting such subtle error and correctly assessing its danger is by applying oneself conscientiously to the task of rightly dividing the Word of God” (133-134). I’m not completely sure what “dividing the Word of God” is, and MacArthur doesn’t feel the need to explain. Maybe it’s one of the many references to evangelical culture I don’t get. But elsewhere MacArthur is clearer: “God’s Word is plain enough” (157), “far more issues are black and white than most people realise” (195), there are “universally self-evident truths” (3), and “The true meaning of Scripture – or anything else, for that matter – has already been determined and fixed by the mind of God. The task of an interpreter is to discern that meaning’ (xxi). Whilst humanity cannot know God’s mind exhaustively, we can know it sufficiently to identify it’s opposite (183), as “Most of the truths of God’s Word are explicitly contrasted with opposing ideas” (195). Nowhere does he address contemporary literary theory in order to debunk the death of the author thesis.

MacArthur’s correspondence theory of truth and realist approach to language are signalled by this and other examples of his stance on biblical interpretation. These theories rest on ‘sure’ foundations, the construction of which as ‘true’ and ‘certain’ necessitate MacArthur’s association of uncertainty with untruth and unbelief, and therefore deception. He does not, however, critically examine any of these assumptions, and this is the main flaw of his work.

Progressive Spirituality and the Emerging Church Milieu

Over Christmas I read Gordon Lynch’s (2007) The New Spirituality: An Introduction to Progressive Belief in the Twenty-first Century. Despite some minor quibbles (for example, his confusion of the 2nd and 3rd waves of feminism, and his inclusion of Willow Creek and the Alpha Course alongside “other forms of experimentation with the ‘emergent church’,” - two disappointing misunderstandings, both on p.25), Lynch’s study of what he refers to as “the progressive milieu” is impressive, absorbing, and stimulating.

Through an extensive review of print and online media, Lynch argues that far from being amorphous and/or insignificant entities, both this milieu and what he terms a “progressive spirituality” are organised around and arise out of identifiable sets of values, beliefs, and practices.

Firstly, then, the progressive milieu is constituted “by individuals, groups and networks who tend to be either liberal or radical in theological terms or green and left-of-centre in political terms” (20). Those involved are sympathetic to liberal democracy’s core values (for example, tolerance, autonomy, diversity), hold green or left-wing political attitudes (for example, concerned with environmentalism, social justice, civil rights), and/or are theologically liberal or radical. Lynch includes in this latter characteristic a willingness “to revise religious tradition in the light of contemporary knowledge,” a sympathetic relationship to feminist critiques of institutionalised religion, and beliefs that “there is a truth inherent in all religious traditions” (98).

Lynch portrays progressive spirituality (which is not the only spirituality possible within this milieu – a point to which I shall return at the end of this post) as arising out of four imperatives within the progressive milieu:

• “the desire to find new ways of religious thinking and new resources for spiritual growth and well-being that truly connect with people’s beliefs, values and experience in modern, liberal societies” (23-25);
  
• the development of “a spirituality that is not bound up with patriarchal beliefs and structures, and which can be relevant and liberating resource for women” (25-29);
  
• “attempts to reconcile religion with contemporary scientific knowledge,” particularly grounding spirituality in contemporary scientific cosmologies (29-25);
  
• and “moves to develop a spirituality which reflects a healthy understanding of the relationship of humanity to the wider natural order and which motivates constructive action to prevent ecological catastrophe” (35-38).
  
  

After tracing the development of progressive spirituality from these four imperatives, Lynch sets about clearly defining the ideology of progressive spirituality. This ideology is “a cluster of related ideas and values that recur with striking regularity” in the various media produced by the milieu (41). However, this ideology should not be understood as a spiritual worldview that is espoused universally by all those sympathetic to the wider progressive milieu. As mentioned above, Lynch’s methodology leans heavily towards a multi-media literature review (albeit supported by an amount of interview and ethnographic data), and he uses Antonio Gramsci to characterise the producers of these various media (books, magazines, articles, pamphlets, websites, etc.) as “‘organic intellectuals’ whose life and work is embedded within the social structures and relationships of the progressive milieu, and who represent its leading intellectual edge” (41). The resources thereby produced are used in a myriad of different ways for a multitude of different purposes, the exploration of which is beyond the scope of Lynch’s current publication (72).

Lynch presents the four key elements which characterise the religious ideology of progressive spirituality thus (43-65):

• “a belief in the immanent divine unity which nurtures and sustains the unfolding cosmos;
  
• “the sacralisation of nature;
  
• “the sacralisation of the self;
  
• “and a belief that these spiritual truths can be discerned within and beyond different religious traditions” (98).
  

This latter point revolves around an understanding of religion as historically and culturally contingent attempts to “approach the mystery of the divine presence – a mystery which ultimately defies definition” (60). However, while “no single tradition can claim to be the final, authoritative revelation of the divine” and are to be “treated as metaphorical ways of conceiving the divine [rather] than direct representations of the truth” (60), Lynch’s characterisation of progressive spirituality implies that it understands truth as correspondence and as accessible (albeit only in part), through a variety of religious practices. Lynch writes, “Progressive spirituality does resemble postmodernism in its celebration of different religious styles and traditions, rather than the pursuit of a unitary style that characterized some form of modernism, but in reality, progressive spirituality is much closer to modernism. Underlying the range of religious traditions that it welcomes, progressive spirituality sees a common essence of truth… It may be less optimistic about social and cultural progress than some earlier forms of modernism – but progress it seeks, nevertheless, towards a more spiritually grounded, sustainable and just society” (68). Hence the name, perhaps?

In relation to my PhD research, Lynch’s work touches on several interesting areas, as well as sparking thoughts about how I can present the ‘emerging church’ phenomenon to readers of my thesis. I’ll detail three particular areas of commonality between spiritual progressives and those involved in emerging Christian communities, before reflecting on the methods Lynch uses to introduce The New Spirituality of his title.

Firstly, Lynch recognises the central role which opposition plays in the development of collective identity among nascent movements. Progressive spirituality “distinguishes itself very clearly from certain other forms of religion and cultural ideology,” for example authoritarian religions and secularism, and “defining these opposing religious and ideological viewpoints plays an important role in giving shape and content to the identity of religious and spiritual progressives” (63). Constructions of ‘others’ by progressives (which is, as Lynch observes, “not to say that it has no external validity”) are vital in the process of community formation on ideological and practical levels. This construction of oppositional others is clear also among emerging Christian communities. Lynch’s description of religious progressives is helping me to think about how constructions of fundamentalist and modernist evangelicalism function for the ‘emerging church.’

Second, progressives’ views about social boundaries are also akin to positions taken by emerging Christian communities, particularly as these positions are articulated by the “organic intellectuals” of the ‘emerging church.’ Lynch writes, “By and large, progressive religious groups and networks are not interested in boundary issues of who does and does not properly belong to these groups or who does or does not fall within acceptable boundaries of ‘orthodoxy’ in progressive faith. Indeed the strong emphasis on tolerance and valuing of diversity amongst progressive groups, means that concerns with tightly maintained boundaries and group orthodoxy tend to be seen as the regressive and unhealthy obsessions of more traditional forms of religion” (42). The ideology which Lynch identifies with progressive spirituality is not, therefore, a ‘statement of faith’ which must be subscribed to by all progressives. Rather, the ideology is understood as a “potential basis for mutual identification, communication, and collaboration” (42). In much the same way, subscribing to more bullet points of ‘emerging church-ness’ does not make one more emerging, but rather enables broader and deeper levels of respect, dialogue, and support.

A third interesting point of comparison concerns another aspect of progressive identity. Lynch acknowledges that “collective identity within such movements is socially constructed, focused around overlapping and sometimes contradictory accounts of both the movement’s goals and methods, and the social and cultural environment in which it operates. This process of ongoing negotiation occurs not simply through explicit conversations about the movement’s identity, activities and context, but also takes place through the movements’ developing practices and rituals, and the way in which it produces and uses cultural artefacts. It is also a process that is embedded in a range of social relationships” (89-90). Crucially, then, identity formation is conducted within a range of contexts which produce both underlying cohesions and localised divergences. Lynch’s approach is thus able to take note of both these instrumental aspects of identity, and I am interested in what the “field of beliefs and aspirations” (90) might be within which individuals and groups negotiate what it means to be ‘emerging.’

A final point to be made about Lynch’s study of progressive belief relates to the method through which he introduces his readers to his subject. This “new spirituality” is first grounded within a particular religious milieu, the “progressive milieu,” and Lynch identifies the criteria through which individuals and communities can be confidently placed within this milieu. While allowing that this milieu might enable other types of religious ideology, progressive spirituality is then presented as the most prevalent spirituality within the progressive milieu, and its key characteristics are explored. The roles and practices of religious organisations and networks situated in the milieu are then likewise examined.

My attempts to accurately describe the ‘emerging church’ phenomenon to lay and academic readers, both familiar and unfamiliar to it, led me away from the language of ‘emerging church’ towards the more inclusive and plural phrase ‘emerging Christian communities.’ The realities of my fieldwork methodology then led me further to describe participants as ‘members and friends of emerging Christian communities.’ However, even this phrase is not entirely suitable. Firstly, the use of the word ‘members’ suggests an (over-)emphasis on boundaries which is not always present, and a differentiation between types of relationship (members and friends) could introduce social structures which may or may not be already apparent. Further, not all the individuals participating or communities represented understand themselves as ‘Christian.’ But over the last few days, Lynch’s approach to the progressive milieu and progressive spirituality has sparked further ideas about how to present my research subjects to readers.

Due to the similar nature of the two phenomena, Lynch’s approach can be mapped on to a study of emerging Christian communities without much modification. A relationship to the term ‘emerging church,’ however complicated, suggests that individuals and communities can be assigned to what I shall call the emerging church milieu. Inhabitancy of the emerging church milieu can accommodate a number of different understandings and usages of the phrase ‘emerging church,’ whilst simultaneously allowing me to dispense with speech marks!

I will then attempt to identify the defining features of the emerging church milieu, which will enable individuals, organisations, and networks to be placed within it without excluding the possibility of real differences amongst them. I will also examine the roots of the emerging church milieu, as well as the roles and practices of organisations, etc., within it. Through my exploration of the concept of truth among those involved in the emerging church milieu, I will then explore two potential (though not exhaustive) spiritualities within this milieu. Though I have yet to fix on names for them, you can guess from my thesis structure that I might call them Emergent Spirituality and A/theistic Spirituality.

This leads me to a criticism of Lynch’s approach, which lies solely with his choice of terminology. What Lynch describes in this book is one spiritual possibility for those in the progressive milieu, yet his assigning of the appellation ‘progressive’ to both the spirituality and the milieu implies a value judgement which is refused elsewhere in the book. It’s designation as a progressive spirituality suggests not only it’s prevalence in the milieu of the same name, but also it’s superiority and suitability over and above any other spiritual possibilities. The possible spiritualities which arise from the milieu should therefore be given different names from it, in order to avoid this confusion in an otherwise useful map for looking at contemporary spirituality.

Moving Forward

I had a good supervision session yesterday, my last one for a while as my supervisor is going on sabbatical next term [single tear rolls down cheek] I gave her an(other) overall structure for the thesis, which I feel comfortable working towards while she's away in Italy - although I imagine it will morph as I go along! It's already, like, the seventeenth structure I've had! My research questions (how do members and friends of emerging Christian communities understand the concept of truth, and what might the philosophical, theological and political implications of such concept(s) look like?) form the backbone of the thesis structure.

The Introduction contextualises my research questions by briefly framing them in the criticisms levelled at the "emerging church." I explain how the structure of the thesis relates to the main contentions I wish to make, and introduce themes which are peppered throughout.

Chapter One introduces the reader to emerging Christian communities through a thematic exploration of my (at the moment!) chosen terminology ("emerging Christian communities"). It consists of a sociological reflection on the position of these communities in the Christian landscape, an historical tracing of the emergence of these communities in the UK context, and a review of possible future trajectories. The last section of this chapter details the criticisms laid against the "emerging church" by evangelical detractors with particular emphasis on the ways in which these communities are imagined the undermine the truth claims of Christianity.

Chapter Two is a methodological chapter which details the multi-method through which I conducted this research. It introduces the reader to the participants and their communities, and reflects on theoretical, ethical and practice concerns generated by this project. I argue against the reductionist methodologies of other "emerging church" research which privileges the voices of certain individuals over others, thereby justifying my decision to conduct research on several levels in order to hear the voices of a spectrum of individuals. I also present my use of the Internet as both a research tool (e-questionnaires, Facebook) and as a research site (blogs, and other related spaces). I take the reader through the process of moving from an online context to an offline one, and back again, reflecting on the implications of these moves for research relationships.

Chapters Three and Four begin to unpick the philosophical implications of participants' understandings of truth. With regards to philosophy, there are two strands which emerge. An individual participant might stand firmly within one strand rather than the other, but several participants hold both strands in creative tension, and the communities from which participants come cannot be understood to fully exhibit one strand to the full exclusion of the other.

Chapter Three draws out the first strand. Here there is ontological realism and epistemological fallibility. Either there is or there isn't a God (the principle of bivalence) but human knowledge cannot fully grasp the nature of this reality. In this strand, deconstruction is understood as a phase which is a necessary response to modernist (evangelical) Christianity, but which must at some point give way to the process of reconstruction. Some elements within postmodern philosophy are understood to be relativistic or nihilistic, and Christianity cannot go the same way. This ontologically realist, epistemologically humble, and reconstructive strand has implication for evangelism, tending to emphasise cultural postmodernity, as well as a chastened (i.e. not nihilistic!) philosophical postmodernism, in order to contextualise mission in shifting paradigms.

Chapter Four details the second strand. Here there is a reluctance to answer (or even ask) questions of ontology. Rather than making judgements regarding the realist or non-realist nature of the Christian narrative, participants prefer to talk about hyperrealism. Also in contrast to the first strand, participants' epistemologies are not so much chastened as a/epistemologies, or epistemologies of active unknowing. Uncertainty and doubt is accompanied by the de-nomination of every naming of God. Deconstruction is understood as an inherent part of the Christian narrative, of Jesus' example, and of the Christian life. Christianity is understood as auto-deconstructive. Deconstruction, questioning, unravelling, are central to Christian faith, not as a necessary phase before the rebuilding, but as coexistent with faith. Truth is understood as an event which occurs to us and transforms us through a call, following the work of Jack Caputo. This understanding of truth as a call has implications for the type of community which develops around such a concept. A final section here explores the a/theism of participants and their understandings of orthodoxy as believing in the right way (i.e. lightly) rather than right belief.

A brief pause before I move on to explain the other chapters. I know what you are going to say, but it is not the case that Ikon can be neatly fitted into the second strand, with the other communities in the first! My differentiation between these strands doesn't work that way. There are participants within Ikon who, while holding to some of the tenets in strand two, identify more closely with strand one. And there are participants in other communities who have more affinity for the second strand than for the first. These two strands are not mutually exclusive, and can be (and often are) held in tension by participants.

Chapter Five meditates on the theological implications of participants' notions of truth and the philosophical strands drawn out in the preceding chapters. It examines Radical Orthodoxy in the light of participants' understandings of truth and argues that this theology is only useful for some of them. It also reformulates Radical Orthodoxy into what can be referred to as a "Generous Radical Orthodoxy." [titter, titter] I argue that Radical Orthodoxy's tone of certainty and preoccupation with being are the reasons that other participants can be said to exhibit a closer affinity with Weak Theology.

Chapter Six is the final chapter of the thesis (as it stands at the moment!) and explores the implications for politics of emerging understandings of truth. Here the two philosophical strands, which have continued to diverge theologically, re-converge politically. However truth is philosophically understood and in whichever theology these understandings feel at home, participants' responses to truth dovetail with each other. Here I explore notions of responding to the call and Caputo's kingdom without kingdom. I was tempted to also tackle a critique of Neo-Pragmatism from the perspective Generous Radical Orthodoxy and Weak Theology, though I think this was a little ambitious of me. Maybe. Maybe not. We'll see. Maybe a journal article, eh?

The conclusion will obviously do all standards things conclusion tend to do. I'll draw together all the threads of the thesis, breaking them down to show the various philosophical theories of truth at work among Christian communities. I reflect on the cultural contexts from which these understandings of truth emerge, and identify fruitful areas for further enquiry. Blah, blah, blah!

That's where my thinking is concerning my research questions and the structure of my thesis. I haven't yet finished transcribing the 30 interviews I conducted (in fact, I'm no way near), but I've been reflecting on the emerging themes [titter, God, I need a holiday!] and with this structure I feel more confident that I move forward with reading, etc., while I simultaneously try to finish the transcriptions. So... apologies to all participants who were looking forward to sitting down and having a good mull over their transcripts whilst sipping mulled wine - and I know that was, like, all of you!

As I transcribe, further themes are coming up which I will not be able to develop far in this thesis. For example, participants' views on Jesus, the historicity of the Bible, the nature of revelation, etc. I hope to be able to incorporate these themes into blog posts, however, so that everyone can continue those conversations even though they will not feature heavily in the thesis (whenever that gets done!).

As part of an open sourced approach to research, please let me know what you think of these preliminary thoughts.

Voices of the Virtual World wins Award

The first volume of the Wikiklesia Project, Voices of the Virtual World: Participative Technology and the Ecclesial Revolution, has won an award of merit from the Society for New Communications Research. From the press release:



"The Society for New Communications Research is a nonprofit global think tank dedicated to the advanced study of new communications tools, technologies and emerging modes of communication, and their effect on traditional media, professional communications, business and society."



A post revealing the other 2007 winners can be accessed here.

Radical Orthodoxy: Too Strong for My Taste!

This is a long one. Apologies.

On something of a Radical Orthodoxy roll, I’ve started reading Steven Shakespeare’s (2007) Radical Orthodoxy: A Critical Introduction.[1] He addresses several criticisms of Radical Orthodoxy which concern me (particularly the imperialism and dualism of the position) and explores themes which RO under examine (dialogue, compassion, and agnosticism). These reflections dovetail nicely with the emerging themes of my fieldwork, particularly emphases on doubt, unknowing, and a/theism. It’s here where I leave RO in search of weaker theologies! (I’m not sure this is where Shakespeare himself is willing to go, though!!!).

This introduction to Radical Orthodoxy is more accessible than James K.A. Smith’s (2004) introduction which I blogged about at the beginning of the week (here and here). At the end of his introductory chapter, Shakespeare helpfully summarises the ‘bold claims’ of Radical Orthodoxy (40) thus:

• No part of the world can be understood apart from God.
• The idea of an independent secular realm is something we have invented.
• Secular philosophies claim to be based on pure reason. However, they are really Christian theology gone bad, religions of power promoting violence.
• Liberal and other progressive theologies [he introduces RO’s critiques of liberal theology, liberation theology, feminist theology, and eco-theology] play into the hands of secularism, accepting that the world can be known independent of its relationship to God [through reason, the social sciences, or nature, for example]. Conservative theologies try to reintroduce God into the world from the outside. Both fail to overcome the problems created by the creation of a secular world.
• The cure for this secular disease is a recovery of Christian tradition and community.
• The key elements of Christianity are participation, a dynamic sharing in the nature of God; and the belief that death and violence are secondary to God’s gift of peace in creation, renewed in Christ.
• Christian faith saves the world from becoming the plaything of impersonal forces [such as the “free” market]. It treats creation as a gift, not as a given. (40)

Shakespeare then moves on to further introduce Radical Orthodoxy through a framework of three interlinking themes: language, community, and desire. These three themes form the basis of the next chapters, each with summaries attached. I’ve largely skim-read these chapters with an eye to my research topics (truth, realism, knowledge, doubt, being, event) and moved straight on Shakespeare’s ‘looking ahead’ chapter, reflecting on criticisms of Radical Orthodoxy, and suggestions for the future of theology. I’ll present these criticisms and suggestions, before focusing in on where Shakespeare’s presentation of Radical Orthodoxy intersects with my research topics.

Shakespeare draws attention to four interlinking criticisms of Radical Orthodoxy: dualism, imperialism, rootlessness, and monism. Firstly, the dichotomy between Church and world, Christian theology and all other approaches to truth, Christianity and secularism, can be seen to result in a ghettoisation of the religion which is ultimately akin to the modern (secular) banishing of religion to a corner which RO seeks to avoid. Secondly, RO is engaging in an exercise of power when it asserts the domination of the Christian story over all others, drowning out differences between Christianity and other theologies and differences among Christians. Christian theology, the Church, and Christian life is idealized and homogenized in relation to an Anglo-American context and addressing only the issues raised in this western locality. Thirdly, the idealization and abstraction of the Church threatens to leave RO without any real church. Finally, following on from the criticism of dualism, Radical Orthodoxy is also charged with monism (the view that there is only one reality), because in dividing Christianity and secularism, only Christianity is given essential reality, because the secular doesn’t recognise its fundamental dependence upon God.

With these criticisms in mind, Shakespeare moves on to consider where Radical Orthodoxy might go from here. His three suggestions for the future of theology mirror the pattern of language, community, and desire found earlier in the book: language in dialogue (175-176), community in compassion (177-178), and desire and unknowing (178-180). I’m going to focus on the last of these brief suggestions (which deserved to be given more than a few pages each) because it intersects with my research questions.

To temper the confidence (arrogance?) in many RO texts, Shakespeare reminds readers that knowing and speaking are contextual activities in which interpretation is unavoidable and absolute certainty never available. He introduces Christian agnosticism, the agnosticism that runs through much of the Christian and Jewish tradition, in which St Augustine says, ‘What do I love, when I love my God?’ (178). The via negativa exposes the limitedness of our language about God, our God-talk, our theology. He recognises the ambiguity, anxiety and uncertainty of belief: ‘the sense of being called to follow, without knowing the end of the road, is palpable. It reaches its most intense pitch in Jesus’ own cry of desolation from the cross’ (180).

Shakespeare’s call for desire, agnosticism, and unknowing begins to connect one suggestion for a theology of emerging Christian communities with another: Radical Orthodoxy and weak theology. Though he briefly mentions John Caputo’s (2001) On Religion, and Pete Rollins’ (2006) How (Not) To Speak of God in a footnote (where he also mentions I text I might look at further: George Pattison’s (1996) Agnosis: Theology in the Void), Shakespeare doesn’t engage at depth with the concept of weak theology and its related emphasis on a/theism in connection with Radical Orthodoxy’s failings. I suppose I should be glad of this, however, otherwise there would be little for me to attempt in my PhD thesis! For now, I’m going to draw out two elements from Shakespeare’s presentation of RO for later contemplation: truth and ontology.

Shakespeare wonders whether Radical Orthodoxy places greater importance upon aesthetics than on truth (31). For RO, truth is ‘story-shaped’ (80). The Church is the community which tells the right story about God and the world, as only it recognises the created nature of the world and its participatory role in God’s redeeming of that creation. And this story is justified through aesthetics rather than reason: it is the attractiveness of the story (not its truth - correspondence to reality) which persuades. John Milbank writes that truth ‘first of all abides in the body of the faithful’ (Being Reconciled 2003:122). It is a creation, and in creating, the faithful participate in the creative nature of God. So, ‘truth, for Christianity, is not correspondence, but rather participation of the beautiful in the beauty of God’ (Milbank, Theology and Social Theory 1990:427). Truth is therefore a relationship to participate in, rather than a knowledge to be grasped. John Milbank and Catherine Pickstock argue that, following Aquinas, this participation in truth enables us to share in the divine nature (32), though this interpretation of Aquinas has been questioned by John Marenbom (Deconstructing Radical Orthodoxy 2005:49-64). In my thesis I will be examining RO's concept of truth in more detail, and exploring it’s appropriateness for emerging Christian communities.

Within Radical Orthodoxy, there is a marked emphasis upon ontology, possibly in reaction to the observable postmodern emphasis on epistemology. I may not have been astute enough to pick up this emphasis if I wasn’t also reading John Caputo’s (2006) The Weakness of God at the moment – I’ll explain soon...

Radical Orthodoxy lays much of the blame for the myth of secularism at the feet of Christianity itself, and in particular, Duns Scotus, who predicated being univocally, i.e. attributing existence to God the Creator and God’s creations in the same sense. Aquinas, on the other hand, advocated an analogical worldview. Being can be attributed to both God and God’s creations but not in precisely the same sense, only analogically (10). Following Aquinas, RO speak analogically in order to posit that God’s creations only have being because they share in the being of God, though not in precisely the same way. Creation ‘is of itself nothing, and only exists by participation’ (Milbank BR 2003:114). God’s creations ‘can only be understood if we see them in relation to what has given them being, keeps them in being, and brings them to their perfect end’ (24). In rejecting Duns Scotus’ worldview and advocating Aquinas’, however, RO overemphasise ontology, particularly the being and existence of God. This translates into the confidence which Shakespeare rightly recognises as a key criticism and source of contention and infuriation (4).

This certainty in the being, existence, and experience of God would lead John Caputo to categorise Radical Orthodoxy as a ‘strong theology,’ something which I intend to explore a lot further.

In reading Caputo's TWOG, which is in clear conversation with Catherine Keller’s (2003) The Face of the Deep, I have started to reflect on how Radical Orthodoxy treats the second century doctrine of creation ex nihilo. Shakespeare summarises: ‘The doctrine of creation says that God makes the world out of nothing, simply as a free expression of love. There is no pre-existing force, chaos or evil which God has to fight with to bring the world into being’ (26). This peaceful bringing into being contrasts with secularism, in which being competes with being for survival, in which ‘being reduces to war’ (Smith 2004:195). However, as Keller and Caputo show, this doctrine is itself violent, suppressing and excluding the elements (the deep, tehom; the empty earth, tohu wa-bohu; and the wind, ruach) that are clearly present before God’s creative act in the biblical narrative (Gen.1:2). God does not create the world out of nothing, not out of a void, but out of substances already present, like any artist.

This brings us back to the discussion of ontology, and Radical Orthodoxy’s ‘strong theology’ of being and participation. On reading Gen.1:2 more closely (Caputo mischievously talks about the literalism of a close literary reading in order to prickle the hairs of biblical literalists, TWOG 2006:56), ‘God is not responsible for the fact that the elements are there, but for making them stir, making them live by staking out great expanses that God fills up with living things. Creation is not a movement from non-being to being – which is what makes the hearts of metaphysicians everywhere skip a beat – but from being to beyond being, from a mute expanse of being to the bustle of living things, from barrenness to the bloom of life, from silence to the word that makes the empty full and the barren buzz with life’ (TWOG 2006:58-59). Creation is a bringing of life to being rather than a bringing of being itself, a call for being to be beyond being. Radical Orthodoxy’s ‘strong theology’ of being is in sharp contrast to Caputo’s ‘weak theology’ of event. This is something I’m definitely going to look into more. This post is already long enough!

[1] References are to this volume, unless otherwise stated.

Review of WWJD? on Amazon.co.uk

I've posted my review of Caputo's What Would Jesus Deconstruct? here on Amazon.co.uk.

Reformed Radical Orthodoxy: Towards Theological Philosophy

Wikiklesia editor John La Grou was very kind about yesterday's introduction to Radical Orthodoxy, reflecting on the "secular" as 'the language of defeat - an admission of blindness to the unseen realities constantly at work in and around us.' But not only this - the "secular" is an idol, a constructed sphere outside, beyond, above, God.

Now, onto Reformed Radical Orthodoxy...

Alongside this presentation of the key issues and themes within Radical Orthodoxy, James K.A. Smith (2004) introduces the Reformed Tradition in both support and critique of RO. At times, he suggests areas in which RO is in need of being Reformed; at others, Radical Orthodoxy is used to push the Reformed Tradition further. This ‘reformed rendition’ of Radical Orthodoxy (80) is the product of bringing RO claims into ‘critical dialogue’ with Herman Dooyeweerd in particular (155), in whose work Smith recognises possibilities for both the confirmation and development of Radical Orthodoxy. Here, RO, specifically John Milbank, is seen to be reductionist in its analysis and rejection of disciplines such as philosophy. Smith argues that Dooyeweerd can be utilised to clarify the RO critique of philosophy.

Smith argues that Milbank’s critique of the autonomy of philosophy which entails a rejection of this discipline and the formulation of ‘a theological account of what it is to be and know in general’ (Milbank, 1999:22), reduces philosophy as an activity in itself to the particularly autonomous form that philosophy has taken and continues to take.

Milbank can be said to thus create a false dichotomy: ‘It is indeed for radical orthodoxy an either/or: philosophy (Western or Eastern) as a purely autonomous discipline, or theology: Herod or the magi, Pilate or the God-man’ (Milbank, 1999:32).

But, as Smith questions, ‘does not such a conclusion and program confuse a contingent mode of philosophical orientation with the possibilities of an alternative mode of philosophical research? In other words, isn’t Milbank confusing the particular direction (Western) philosophy has taken with the structure of philosophical investigation as such? Could we not entertain the possibility of “a Christian philosophy, ruled and reformed by the central biblical motive” (ITWT, 107) – and as “ruled” obviously not autonomous?’ (155, citing Dooyeweerd, 1999:107).

Smith argues that this conflation of philosophy-as-such with autonomous philosophy, and the subsequent antithesis between philosophy-as-such and theology and the resulting rejection of the former, is a consequence of the ambiguous treatment of the Fall within Radical Orthodoxy (165). Smith uses Leibniz to construct a 'creational ontology' to augment the 'participatory ontology' of Radical Orthodoxy (204-229). Drawing attention to Leibniz's understanding of the 'creational structures' which inhere every created thing to enable self-sufficiency and dependence, and his recognition of the referential nature of these structures - 'a structure of "referring and expressing" that points to an origin' (220). Thus, creation has its telos in God. For Smith, the Fall is understood as the occasion for the distortion and misdirection of these creational structures. Postlapsarian creation retains the referential structures of its “good” creation (Genesis 1:31), but now these structures can be either directed towards God or away from God. Redemption, then, is understood as the redirection of these structures towards the Creator, ‘to the creational telos of humanity: the Triune God’ (253).

Smith’s reformed rendition of RO’s participatory ontology towards a creational ontology, can now be related to his analysis of Milbank’s rejection of philosophy (and other disciplines) as reductionist. He writes, ‘it is important to distinguish between the creational structure and the postlapsarian direction that structure can take and has taken’ (255). Further, it is important to recognise the possibility of Redemption, of constituting the direction of Fallen realities such as autonomous philosophy as otherwise than they are currently. Redemption is the redirection of the creational structures to their ‘creational aim by the Word, who came to heal’ (245). Thus, autonomous philosophy is not rejected and replaced with theology (for this would be to make an idol of one of the created disciplines over the others), but rather its creational structures, which are inherently good, are redirected towards their Creator, forming what RO might call theological philosophy.

Smith, following Dooyeweerd, prefers to talk of confessional philosophy. Smith presents Dooyeweerd's 'unique ontology' (171), wherein creation is structured by ‘multiple aspects or modes that inhere in every created thing’ (171). Each aspect has a corresponding theoretical discipline, for example, mathematics is the discipline which theorizes the numeric aspect, economics is the discipline which theorizes the economic aspect, ethics is the discipline which theorizes the moral aspect, and so on. Philosophy, however, is somewhat different to the other disciplines, as its object of study is not one particular aspect of reality but rather the relational interactions of the aspects, as well as reflecting on epistemology and ontology (Dooyeweerd, 1999:9). However, this does not licence the autonomy of philosophy, because, for Dooyeweerd, each discipline is rooted in particular religious commitments or ground-motivations, ‘either the radical biblical ground-motive or one of any number of “apostate” ground-motives’ (172). For a Christian, then, each of these disciplines must be grounded in Christianity’s ‘central spiritual motive power,’ the ‘radical and central biblical theme of creation, fall into sin and redemption by Jesus Christ as the incarnate Word of God, in the communion of the Holy Spirit’ (Dooyeweerd, 1999:30).

And this includes philosophy. Rather than crown the discipline of theology queen, as Milbank seems to when calling for 'theology alone' (Milbank 1990:6) - which would amount to the idolatrous elevation of one created aspect and its discipline above all the others - ‘Dooyeweerd and the Reformed tradition, therefore, would call for, not a theological resituating of the disciplines but rather a confessional framework for all the disciplines’ (173). This reforming of RO results in a clarification of the call for theological philosophy, or sociology, or whatever discipline, by articulating it as a call for disciplines rooted in the Christian confession. ‘In the end, this is perhaps what RO is really after: an account of the multiple aspects of being-in-the-world that is rooted in God’s self-revelation in Christ’ (174).

[update 27/11/07 10.34am: just found this mp3 from a CBC broadcast. Thanks to sacra doctrina for the link]

Radical Orthodoxy: a 'symphony in five movements'

In conversation with an 'EC skeptic' in the comments on an earlier post, I've decided to post a few more of my reflections on Radical Orthodoxy in the next few days - perhaps along with some other possibilities for postmodern theology - in order to start to think about why I'm more attracted to Caputo's particular 'theology without theology' than these other works. It's my partner's birthday this week, so forgive me if these reflections aren't rapidly forthcoming, though!



To start with, however, I thought I'd present James K.A. Smith's (2004) useful introduction to Radical Orthodoxy, entitled Introducing Radical Orthodoxy: Mapping a Post-Secular Theology. This book is both an introduction to the political, epistemological, and ontological claims of Radical Orthodoxy as a ‘theological sensibility and spirit’ (67)[1] and a sustained conversation of critique and support between this emerging theology and the articulation of similar (and different) notions among the Reformed Tradition, particularly in the works of Herman Dooyeweerd. Throughout his work, Smith identifies such thinkers as John Milbank, Graham Ward, Catherine Pickstock, Daniel Bell, D. Stephen Long, and William T. Cavanaugh with the ‘loose tendency’ (Pickstock, 2001:405) or ‘theological sensibility’ (Ward, 2003a:117) labelled “Radical Orthodoxy”[2].



Radical Orthodoxy is a 'post-secular theology' in the sense that 'there is no secular, if by “secular” we mean “neutral” or “uncommitted”; instead, the supposedly neutral public spaces that we inhabit – in the academy or politics – are temples of other gods that cannot be served alongside Christ' (42). Thus Radical Orthodoxy's post-secular theology needs to be clearly identified as a Christian post-secular theology, a theology based on the unapologetically confessional narrative of creation, fall, redemption, and consummation.



Recognising that Radical Orthodoxy is not ‘a defined agenda or a school with established doctrines’ (66), Smith presents this ‘certain spirit of theologically driven cultural engagement’ (67) through the metaphor of a ‘symphony in five movements… themes that characterize the “sensibility” of RO’ (70). These themes are:



(i) a concern to form a critique of modernity, liberalism, dualisms, universal reason, immanentism, and “the ontology of violence” (Milbank, 1990:278-325) in which ‘being reduces to war’ (195). In its place, Radical Orthodoxy seeks to provide an alternative ontology, an “ontology of peace” (Milbank, 1990:380-438), in which human intersubjectivity is construed as grounded in harmony rather than opposition, power and war. These critiques of modernity similarly apply to so-called postmodernity, which Radical Orthodoxy understands as ‘hyper-modernity’ (139), where (supposedly) postmodern theorists such as Derrida and Foucault ‘replay and play out the ontology of modernity’ (92). Proponents of RO, then, seek to show that ‘only RO is truly postmodern because it is precisely other than modern’ (71) because of its alternative ontology of peace. [Proving this last point is also precisely what Smith does not do in his (2006) Whose Afraid of Postmodernism? - a criticism which I mention in an earlier post].



(ii) a promotion of the aforementioned post-secular nature of the contemporary (Western) situation. The secular/sacred dualism of modernity is transcended through the recognition that even supposedly secular realms hide fundamental commitments to certain beliefs, ways of thinking, and practices. In short, they are ‘theologies or anti-theologies in disguise’ (Milbank, 1990:3). ‘The secular is not areligious, just differently religious – a religion of immanence and autonomy’ (Smith 2004:131) and hence also of violence and contest, and therefore pagan to the Christian religion of participation (iii) and peace (i). However, ‘[o]nce, there was no “secular”’ (Milbank, 1990:9), for before the myth of secular, neutral, autonomous reason, it was acknowledged that no realm stood outside the realm of creation and its Creator, and therefore nothing stood outside the “jurisdiction” of theological discourse. Faith, banished from science due to its contaminating influence on “facts,” is now (re)admitted. This theme of Radical Orthodoxy is in large part the reasoning behind the retrieval of pre-modern (and therefore pre-secular) sources.



(iii) an ontology of participation and materiality. Reality is understood as a creation gifted by the Creator, wherein the material is suspended from the transcendent. Thus, while ‘every created reality is absolutely nothing in itself’ (Pickstock, 2001:416), insofar as ‘it participates in the gift of existence granted by God’ this ontology of participation is the only ontology which can grant creation meaning (75). This participation of creation in the transcendent is supplemented by the participation of the transcendent in creation not only during Creation itself but also at the Incarnation, simultaneously investing it with value and ultimately redeeming it. ‘[O]nly transcendence, which “suspends” these things in the sense of interrupting them, “suspends” them also in the other sense of upholding their relative worth over-against the void’ (Milbank, et al, 1999:3). This participatory ontology stands in marked contrast to the “flattened” ontology of modernity, which, following Duns Scotus, predicates being univocally, attributing being to the Creator and the created in the same sense. The promotion of an alternative, theo-ontology (121) is another instance of RO’s recovery and reinterpretation of pre-secular sources (ii).


(iv) a commitment to the central role of sacramentality, liturgy, and aesthetics in leading humanity towards the divine, based on the double participation of the transcendent in creation and creation in the transcendent(iii), which reaffirms the status of the material and human activities, including poesis (77).


(v) again leading on from the principle of God’s participation, revelation, and concern for the created world in (iii) and (iv), there is an emphasis on ‘the redemption and transformation of this world (socially, politically, and economically)’ (79). Radical Orthodoxy 'looks at “sites” that we have invested much cultural capital in – the body, sexuality, relationships, desire, painting, music, the city, the natural, the political – and it reads them in terms of the grammar of the Christian faith' (Ward, 2000b:103). Radical Orthodoxy is concerned to show that modernity has created a “logic of parody” by which Christian “sites” such as God, the ecclesia, and the Kingdom are parodied by competing (supposedly secular but ultimately religious and therefore pagan) renditions of these sites as the monarch (Ward, 2003b:43), the state (Bell, 2001:72), and the city (Ward, 2000a), respectively. However, these alternatives are fundamentally at odds with the Christian “sites” that they mimic, for they utilize a ‘dis/placement strategy whereby immanent sites are invested with the task of fulfilling transcendent desires’ (139) and will thus always frustrate rather than fulfil this desire for God. Therefore Radical Orthodoxy advocates a ‘critical distance’ from secular modernity (139), and the development of a distinctly Christian post-secular, post-modernity.



Having introduced Radical Orthodoxy thematically, Smith then undertakes a conversation between this post-secular theology and the Reformed Tradition, a conversation which facilitates the creation of a reformed Radical Orthodoxy or Radical Orthodoxy in its reformed rendition. But more on this tomorrow!


[1] References are from Smith, 2004, unless otherwise stated

[2] In regarding Radical Orthodoxy as a ‘sensibility shared to a greater or lesser degree with several other contemporary theologians’ (Ward, 2003a:117), Ward includes Rowan Williams, Fergus Kerr, Nicholas Lash, Stanley Hauerwas, David Burrell, and Peter Ochs (Ward, 2003a, p.115)

Emerging Metaphors

I'm collecting metaphors.

Despite their (un)popularity among "emerging church" discussions in the blogosphere, Carson and Smith articulate their criticisms with far fewer conflict metaphors, than do other authors. For example, the titles of these evangelical publications, unambiguously calling for a biblical consideration of truth:

Douglas Groothuis’ (2000) Truth Decay: Defending Christianity Against the Challenges of Postmodernism

Art Lindsley’s (2004) True Truth: Defending Absolute Truth in a Relativistic World

John MacArthur’s (2007) The Truth War: Fighting for Certainty in an Age of Deception

Defense and defending, war and fighting... And this is even before an analysis of the language used inside the covers!

Anyway, I just received the next installment: Roger Oakland (2007) Faith Undone. So far, so good - the title, at least, passes the conflict metaphor test. Although, there are obviously quite a lot of loaded phrases in use here! And I've yet to start turning the pages, of course.

It's published by Lighthouse Trails so I guess I already know the answer to the question posed in their subtitle: the emerging church... a new reformation or an end-time deception

Tellingly, they don't even include a questionmark at the end!!! A grammatical hint at a foregone conclusion, perhaps?

"What Would Jesus Deconstruct?" Reviewed and "Who’s Afraid of Postmodernism?" Revisited

John D. Caputo’s What Would Jesus Deconstruct? The Good News of Postmodernism for the Church (2007) is the second in Baker Academic’s The Church and Postmodern Culture series.

The first (James K.A. Smith’s [2006] Who’s Afraid of Postmodernism?) was a good introduction to three postmodern “bumper stickers” (“there is nothing outside the text,” “incredulity towards metanarratives,” and “power is knowledge”) – and I used a few of his filmic vehicles to explain postmodernism to undergraduates in a lecture on postmodern christologies – but it failed in its attempt to convince me that ‘a “radical orthodoxy” is the only proper outcome of the postmodern critique’ (2006:25; my emphases) and that, in the last chapter especially, applied Radical Orthodoxy is the only appropriate outcome for the “emerging church.”

To begin with, Smith never addresses other possible theological and ecclesiological outcomes of the postmodern critique in order to argue for the supremacy of Radical Orthodoxy (or perhaps, rather the “out-narration” of other possibilities by Radical Orthodoxy). Secondly, when we reach the last chapter, we’re left with the thought: this is the emerging church???!!!???

While I agree that ‘what the emerging church is reacting against is a deep, hurtful experience of sectarianism [and] the antidote to this is a generous orthodoxy and healthy catholicity’ (2006:132), when this is translated into a ‘radically orthodox church’ experience in the last few pages, I’m not sure this looks much like the emerging Christian communities that I’ve been exploring for the last few years.

Much more relevant to the experiences of those I’ve been interviewing and observing, Caputo’s What Would Jesus Deconstruct? gives more voice to doubt than to orthodoxy. At heart, this book is a call (kletos) to deconstruction through an exposition of the above phrase. Caputo argues that there is a deeply deconstructive event that ‘stirs within the figure of Jesus’ (2007:26), and that deconstruction is the hermeneutics of the kingdom of God, a kingdom which he has described elsewhere as a ‘kingdom without kingdom’ (The Weakness of God).

“What Would Jesus Do?” ‘…what Jesus does, is deconstruct’ (2007:30), and with this presentation of deconstruction comes a plethora of correlatives: hyperrealism, undecidability, destinerrancy (possibly my favourite Derridean neologism at the moment!), vocation, theo-poetics, weakness, justice, the impossible, gift, forgiveness, hospitality, and love. This book is a call to deconstruct the name of God / Jesus / Church / Kingdom in order to release the event that stirs within these names.

Caputo’s work has lots of resonances with my study. Not least, his understanding of truth as a name which needs to be similarly deconstructed in order to release the event of truth: ‘“truth” means what is trying to come true, which points to our responsibility to make it actually come true’ (2007:61). For Augustine and Derrida truth means ‘facere veritatem, doing or making the truth’ happen (2007:134).

Similar to the format of Smith’s first volume, What Would Jesus Deconstruct?’s last chapter considers the future of the church, through John McNamee’s (1993) Diary of a City Priest and Pete Rollins’ (2006) How (Not) to Speak of God – the title of which you’ll understand a lot more after Caputo’s previous explanation of the step/not (pas) (2007:42ff). Two very different texts, both with a lot to say about the place of doubt, of uncertainty, of the impossible. As Caputo writes, ‘faith is impossible, the impossible; one is called on to have faith in a world in which it is impossible to believe anything… Doubt as the condition of faith, not its opposite, making faith possible as (the) im/possible’ (2007:121).

Maybe my reading of this book in a day and my reviewing of it only a few more later mean that I’m currently too close to the text to treat it as I have Smith’s Who’s Afraid of Postmodernism?, but I can at least ask the same question of Caputo’s final chapter: Is this the emerging church???!!!???

From my memory, and from the book’s index, Caputo only uses the term “emergent” once, and “emerging” never. So maybe this question isn’t a fair one. The two communities described by Caputo are very different – McNamee’s St Malachy’s is ‘an institution that struggles against institutionality; Ikon is hardly an institution at all’ (2007:129) – as are the texts and their authors, though postmodernism’s ‘tropes and movements are everywhere at work’ in both (2007:129). And I am growing in my conviction that Ikon is not an “emerging church,” as that term is communally defined, used, and understood – despite the clear resistance involved here.

Nevertheless, the book’s forward is written by Brian McLaren. ’Nough said?... or is it?

However, I haven’t found the number of instant reviews of What Would Jesus Deconstruct? among “emerging church” bloggers that I was expecting . Maybe you can point me in that direction if I’m not looking in the right places? Or, maybe, this (positive) text is going to take a while to seep into the collective “emerging church” conscious, in contrast to the (negative) texts which seem to be read by everyone as soon as humanly possible and debated hotly (for example, John MacArthur's recent critical contribution).

Finally, I love Caputo’s (Eckhartian) emphasis on Jesus’ prayer, Eloi Eloi, lama sabachthani as the ‘perfectly auto-deconstructing prayer: it is addressed to God – which presupposes our faith that we are not abandoned – and asks why God has abandoned us’ (2007:127). I love that.

Postmodernism, Truth and Religious Pluralism

Egged on by David, I thought I'd better post again! That push coincides with having just found this call for papers on 'the church and postmodern culture' blog here. A little slow of me, I know, but I've been trying to finish book chapters and articles left, right and centre - and still haven't quite done them!

The Fourth Biennial Conference of
The Society for Continental Philosophy & Theology.

Postmodernism, Truth, and Religious Pluralism.

April 11-12, 2008Gordon College (Wenham, MA).

Keynote Speakers:
Roger Haight (Union Theological Seminary)
and Richard Kearney (Boston College).

The blurb runs: With the so-called “return of religion,” it is almost impossible not to address the issue of religious pluralism, which acutely raises the question of truth. What kind of positive sense of religious truth is possible in a postmodern era? What is religious truth—is it representational, propositional, orthopractical, symbolic, aletheiological, or something else altogether? How does the notion of “truth” square with a multiplicity of religious traditions? Is the very term “religion” appropriate in a pluralistic society, since the term is distinctly western? How might the earnest faith of a Christian, say, be compatible with the equally earnest faith of other believers or even non-believers? With the varieties of religions (not to mention the varieties of expressions of religions), how can their respective differences be respected? Are there forms of religious expression that simply cannot find a place in the public square?

And: We encourage papers that draw on continental figures; philosophical traditions such as deconstruction, feminist philosophy, hermeneutics, and phenomenology; and religious traditions such as Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, and Judaism.

I can't very well NOT go, can I?!?

Emerging Christian Communities

To help myself think through that sticky aspect of the sociology of religion known as typologising the life out of your research subjects, I thought I'd post about the various communities from which participants come.

So far, interview participants have come from a range of communities. Here are the links to the web presences of some of them, along with their own self-descriptions:

fEAST, Hackney
"We seek to be a Christian community that provides the opportunity to learn, be inspired and nourished in an atmosphere of intimacy and vulnerability. We also seek to be a space for creative worship, where everyone can talk freely and a place where people receive support for their daily lives. We want to be encouraged to be active in our community and beyond, being committed to the principles of justice and peace. We don't want to forget the need to be made uncomfortable by the gospel of Jesus."

Vineyard, Sutton
"Our mission is to help people live life to the full. We seek to be a truly welcoming and dynamic Christian community where people can connect with God, with others, and with opportunities to make a difference in our world.You can think of Vineyard Church as a group of people "doing life together"."

The Garden, Brighton
"We think of ourselves as a project, an ermerging community based in Brighton, Sussex, who are seeking to work out how to live passionately in response to 'the other' in a way that embraces the artistic, the intellectual and the practical and which challenges us to take seriously matters of justice, compassion and the planet. At the moment most (not all) of us have some sort of Christian history but we aspire to create space, beyond propositional statements of belief, for those with any faith or none who feel this may work for them."

Industrial Mission Association, UK
"The Industrial Mission Association is an organisation for lay and ordained people who want to be involved in, or to deepen their understanding of, the relationship between the Christian faith and the economic order. Membership is open to all men and women who, on the basis of the Christian faith, are committed to instituting economic change and helping the Church to respond to the needs of urban industrial society."

Visions, York
"It's hard to describe Visions in one sentence! A church for people who don't like church. A place that feels like home where we can talk about and experience the love of Jesus Christ. A place where you can be yourself, with all your doubts, fears and messiness and people will accept you anyway. But we're also a bunch of Christians interested in deepening our faith journey through discovering and using our talents in the visual arts, dance music, and technology."

Dream Network, North West England
"DREAM is a network of groups who are on a spiritual journey towards Jesus. We welcome anyone who wants to travel with us."

Foundation, Bristol
"Foundation is a Bristol emerging church / alternative worship group. We are a registered Anglican “Fresh Expression”. Our goal is to bring the experience of Christian community into a healthy relationship with contemporary culture."

Search, Basinstoke
"Search is a place for those who want to encounter worship in a different way - a way that engages the senses and the mind. It is also a place where we will hopefully encounter God and build a sense of community with other searchers."

MayBe, Oxford
"a community following in the way of Jesus for a better world now. Grace, space, wonder, grit, resistance, laughter, presence. Community, exploration, creativity, simplicity, engagement, play, Christ."

Vaux, Vauxhall
"Vaux was a community of artists and city-lovers who sought to explore the Christian faith through the media that came naturally to their hands. Using collages of film, dance, sound, installation, liturgy and image, Vaux formatted monthly 'services' at 310 Kennington Lane, Vauxhall. After a break of about a year we're meeting again. Just to gather, re-juvinate and re-ignite, with no pressure or pre-conceptions. We'll see what happens..."

Ikon, Belfast
"iconic, apocalyptic, heretical, emerging, failing. Inhabiting a space on the outer edges of religious life, we are a Belfast-based collective who offer anarchic experiments in transformance art. Challenging the distinction between theist and atheist, faith and no faith our main gathering employs a cocktail of live music, visual imagery, soundscapes, theatre, ritual and reflection in an attempt to open up the possibility of a theodramatic event."

BarNone, Cardiff
"For the last few years Bar None has been a safe space for people to explore what they believe and what the bible says, a place for people to test the validity of the Christian faith. Pubs are often the most relaxed environments – literally public space – around that we are starting to build a regular crowd of people interested in discussing faith and life. For us it’s just about doing the important stuff of church but in a pub. Some of us are Christians who struggle with doubts and the diversity of opinion within the church what’s ‘truth’. Some of us aren’t sure what we believe and are trying to work it out as we go along."

24/7 Prayer Movement, UK
"24-7 Prayer exists to transform the world through movements and communities of Christ-centred, Mission-minded Prayer."

Spirited Exchanges, UK
"Is your spiritual or faith journey leading you into uncharted territory? Spirited Exchanges is a network offering support and encouragement to people who are experiencing faith and its struggles at the edges of or beyond Church."

Sanctuary, Birmingham
"Sanctuary a safe place for British Asians or anyone interested in exploring eastern and western spiritualities in Christ. It is a place of space, peace, meditation, food, and friendship. Everyone is accepted as they are, just as God loves and accepts them, and Sanctuary is a place where they can experience that love and grace in community."

Journey MCC, Birmingham
"spirituality without religion. Journey is made up of many different people; our only common goal is to create a space where we are able to explore, discuss, experience, worship and listen. We recognise that we are all pilgrims on a search for meaning and need to find ways to share our thoughts and our experiences-if not always our agreement. We’re not interested in orthodoxy….. we’re interested in authenticity."

I originally contacted communities which I had identified as "emerging churches" through internet searches and empirical research by other researchers, but a call for participants was (very kindly) placed on Jason Clark's blog (along with a sexy picture!) and this generated a more diverse response from those involved in engaging with contemporary culture. The rich group of people who are now involved in this project is wonderful, but it's tough to start thinking about typologies for the communities from which they come. You can see, for example from Foundation's description of themselves as an 'emerging church / altnerative worship group' and 'Anglican fresh expression', that I've got some work to do - and that these distinctions don't seem to be problematic in practice! I've got several types to choose from / several boxes to force things into, including:

emerging church
fresh expression of church
alternative worship
neo-monasticism
inherited/traditional church
post-church
not-church

I need to work on how I'm defining these labels, in order to work out which communities to put where, and whether I can create a spectrum which reflects the diversity going on rather than reinforcing any existing binaries. Helen Cameron, for example, differentiates between emerging church and fresh expressions by classifying the former as mission to the de-churched and the later as mission to the un-churched. But Ian Mobsby classifies emerging church as a sub-group of fresh expressions, alongside inherited church fresh expressions. So, I'm working on my own thoughts about these different types of Christian community.

In the meantime... some thoughts on the recent direction that self-definition among the emerging church took. While definition and classification remain dirty words among emerging Christian communities, there have always been attempts to do just that. There was a flurry of definitions around 2005, produced by both those involved and those not - and I need only to point you to a few posts by TSK for you to find some others. However, over the summer this year a method of definition emerged through the textual and visual definition of buzz words in response to criticism from the Pyromaniacs team - see here, here, here, here, and here! The more I think about it, this deserves it's own post. I'll be back.

Religion, Spirituality and Gay Sexuality

Spurred on by a supervision session yesterday, I'm still trying to turn my Masters thesis into a journal article, possibly for Theology & Sexuality, or maybe something more sociology of religion focused. So far, however, cutting the 27,000 word dissertation down to something manageable between 6,000-8,000 is proving hard. At the moment, it's 11,700 and - as usual when you're trying to cut down on words - it's got everything I want in it! It's entitled, "Queering the Subjectivization Thesis: Self and Selflessness among Lesbian Christans" and here's the abstract:

This article explores Heelas and Woodhead’s subjectivization thesis in the context of non-heterosexual religiosity. Heelas and Woodhead (2005) contend that a current sociological trend in the UK religious landscape, which places individual subjectivities and spiritualities above anonymization and conformity within traditional religious institutions, is a sign of changing notions of selfhood. This is a shift from a ‘life-as’ subordinated self to a ‘subjective-life’ ‘self-in-relation.’ This article questions the notion that these forms of selfhood are necessarily mutually exclusive, and uses the self-understandings of a small, localised group of British lesbian Christians to argue that it is possible to achieve integration, rather than continually oscillating between the two poles without mediation. These women simultaneously retain their sense of self and remain within a religion which encourages selflessness. This existence is supported by their choice of worshipping community, the Metropolitan Community Church, and their constructions of the Christian religion.

The research for my MA in Women and Religion, specialising in LGBT Theology, was conducted in 2005, so I'm going to go to the British Sociological Association's Study of Religion Group's study day in November to get involved with the more recent research in the field. Hosted by UWE's Unit for the Study of Religion and Spirituality, the Religion, Spirituality and Gay Sexuality study day has a good line-up, though Andrew Yip (Nottingham Trent), whose research featured heavily in my dissertation, sadly isn't on the provisional programme. I've met Kristen Aune (Derby University) and Marta Trzebiatowska (Exeter University > Aberdeen University) several times and love both their work. Also of interest to me will be Alex Toft (Nottingham Trent)'s paper, "Bisexual Christians: The Lived Experiences of a Marginalised Community." Aside from Andrew Yip, most of the work among LGBT Christians several years ago was US-based, so I'm looking forward to hearing about what's going on now.

The themes I explored in my MA dissertation, particularly the grey areas between Heelas and Woodhead's supposedly mutually exclusive poles of 'life-as' and 'subjective-life,' have relevance for many emerging Christian communities, who also exist in the ground between religion and spirituality, traditionalism and individualism. I'll bring out these themes more in the course of starting to draw my PhD thesis together. At the moment, though, I just have several interesting spider diagrams (!) and a stack of tapes to transcribe.

Blogs and New Text Values

I've just finished (what I hope will be!) the final draft of a chapter that will be published in a book entitled, Reading Spiritualities and, having just regained Internet access after moving house, I thought I'd try to whet some appetites! I blogged briefly about this before here.

The book is being edited by my PhD supervisor, Dr Deborah F. Sawyer, and another PhD student of hers, Dawn Llewellyn, and came out of a conference they organised in 2006, Women Reading Spiritualities. Although I gave a paper based on my Masters research among LGBT Christians, I've written something more directly related to my PhD thesis for inclusion in this volume.

My chapter is called, "The Desire for Interactivity and the Emerging Texts of the Blogosphere" and looks at blogging among emerging Christian communities in order to reflect on the nature of blogs as texts. The chapter argues that the desire for interactivity, identified by feminist literary theorist Lynn Pearce in all reading practices, can be most clearly seen in the reading practices surrounding blogging, as this often results in textual interactions which are articulated in the comments section or in a reader's own blog. There are several values associated with text by postmodern literary theorists which can also be seen in the blogosphere. However, I reflect on the nature of authorship and authority in the blogosphere, and make some arguments regarding a disparity between these "new text values" and text in the blogosphere. I hope someone will find it an interesting read!