My recent post on whether or not we must begin theology with Christ has engendered a lot of discussion. One of the thoughts that led me to post on this is the incredible difficulty of “beginning with Jesus” in our theology. I fear that we too quickly turn the Jesus with which our theology begins into an object that is far to given at the outset. We have a pretty good idea of what Jesus is about and his signficance from which we then can construct our theology.
However, in the gospels, and particularly the resurrection narratives, one of the central features of the Risen Christ is his irreducible otherness, his mysterious distance from us, his refusal to be easily circumscribed in a way that we might “cling to him” (John 20:17). He bears the scars of the crucifixion and yet appears in rooms with locked doors. He is the Jesus we knew throughout his life, and yet his now beyond us in a new way, a way that we cannot bridge to have immediate access to him. When we talk about the Risen Christ we are always in some sense talking about a Stranger. This is a central insight of Rowan Williams’ christology.
So, if this is the case, then “begining with Jesus” or having Christ as “the center” is no easy or straightforward matter. It involves a long and agonizing process of, well, discipleship in which we must labor and strive to find points of contact with the one who is always alien, always beyond our grasp.
I guess my fundamental point is that being Christocentric in our theology is no easier than the actual task of following Christ. It is not a methodological decision that we can just make and be done with it. If we find it easy for Christ to be the “center” of our theological constructs, we may well have domesticated Christ in ways we don’t suspect, attempting to turn the Stranger into a familiar. I am all for being Christocentric in theology, in fact I think it is absolutely indispensible for us to be so engaged in the theological task. However, I believe we often underestimate the difficulty, both intellectual and existential of truly being Christocentric. Christocentric theology, if it is truly Christocentric should be a very painful and difficult process. For Christ the Stranger cannot be assimilated into any theological system. The task of theology is to become assimilated to him. And that is a costly task, one that may cost our very lives. And almost certianly it will cost our academic credibility.
I agree Halden . . . this is being a theologian of the cross, as Luther might say.
And there is no more elemental way of becoming Christocentric than being baptized and celebrating the Eucharist.
I certainly agree with you, Halden, which is why no theologian should think of her task as creating a “system.” We are not creating systems; we are exploring and explicating the mysterious and disturbing reality of Jesus Christ. This is why Barth is a wonderful example of doing theology: he was always ready and willing to start again at the beginning and rethink everything in the light of Christ.
Halden, this is a good post which made me think.
Thanks
Excellent post.
This is reminiscent of some of my Orthodox friends who see ‘Theology’ quite literally as ‘Knowing God’.
A Christocentric theology is surely nothing less than a theology for-and-on the (Emmaus) road.
Hi Halden,
I recently read McGrath’s The Order of Things and he addresses this question in a couple of his essays in that book – one being ‘Iterative Procedures and Closure in Systematic Theology’
Admittedly these two essays were working papers as part of his larger Scientific Theology project but if I remember correctly in the first essay, he suggested starting with the observable: ‘the actuality of the church’ from which one moves to Christology (which gives the church its identity) and eventually to Trinity (which he sees as the end point of theology, not the start point). But the task of theology is also an iterative process in that the outcomes of this first iterative pass become the assumptions in the second pass and so on (like an iterative loop or a spiral staircase) with closure being the point where one reaches a theological plateau.
In the second essay he expands on some of his thoughts on using ‘the actuality of the church’ as a starting point for a systematic theology.
I probably haven’t done his view justice (I’m just an interested lay person and not very well read) but it may be of interest to you.
In any case, I think any theology which does not have Christ as the ‘generative centre’ would probably not be theology at all.
The apostles encountered a most remarkable event. They tell you Christ is risen, Jesus is alive. He is Lord. If you say “Yes I believe”, then why on earth or in heaven would you base your theology on anything other that this. How could it be difficult to be Christocentric in your theology, surely this Truth completely changes everything. It sticks in your face an overwhelming revelation. To be Christocentric in our lives, now that is a different matter, St. Paul says the flesh rebels against the Spirit. We know the Truth but our flesh rebels (his thorn).
I think theology that is not Christocentric is anti-Christ by definition and has no place in Christian study. It is striving for the truth by “another way”. “He who is not for me is against me”. That is not to say that we should not consider “other ways”. Yes we should, but only to map a route to Christ on which we always stand, that way we can engage respectfully with others and prepare the ground so that the Gospel can be recieved. St Paul did no less. Some people argue that if you do not leave Christ and stand where the other stands you cannot know truely the position of the other and your study is compromised. Underlying this argument is an assumption that one is “blinded” by Christ. This is not true. You understand all things clearly and truely in Christ. It is His light that reveals both Himself and “the other”.