Monday, March 6, 2017

Apologetics


On Christian Apologetics and Contextual Theology

For the adult ed. series on

Borg, The Heart of Christianity

Rev. Dr. Tom Sorenson, Pastor

March, 2017



One way to understand Marcus Borg’s work is to see it as Christian apologetics. Apologetics is a type of Christian theology. It is not theology that apologizes for Christianity as the name might suggest. Rather, it is theology that seeks to make the Christian faith understandable and accessible to the people of a particular time and place. It is theology written to speak Christian truth to people of a particular historical, cultural, and linguistic context. Many Christians today may find the notion that Christianity must adapt itself to particular contexts puzzling or even just plain wrong. I mean, aren’t the truths of the Christian faith eternal and unchanging? That’s certainly what we’ve been taught that they are. Aren’t they? Well, yes they are, and no they aren’t. The foundational beliefs of Christianity are eternal. God is eternal. The Christian confession of Jesus Christ as the Son of God is eternal. Yet the specific human contexts within which Christianity lives and functions and to which it endeavors to speak are not eternal. They change all the time. A faith that cannot find ways to address the specific and changing worlds with which it is faced will die. Only a faith that can adapt itself to changing contexts will survive.

Perhaps this example will help here. The Christian Bible was not written using language and categories from Greek philosophy. It was written using language and understandings from the Jewish religious heritage. That heritage did not concern itself much with philosophical issues like the nature of reality (ontology) or with the question of how we humans can know anything at all (epistemology). At least it did not discuss those issues in so many words. It doesn’t address those philosophical issues in anything like the way Greek philosophy did. Christianity, however, quickly moved away from its Jewish base and origins into the world of the Greeks, Greek being the dominant language and culture of the eastern Mediterranean world in the first century CE. As a result, and in order so speak meaningfully to a Greek world, Christians began to use language from Greek philosophy to talk about God and Jesus Christ.

We see them doing that, for example, in the Nicene Creed. That Creed dates from the year 325 CE and the First Ecumenical Council. The Nicene Creed was formulated in Greek by Christian bishops thoroughly steeped in Greek culture. Thus we find Greek words in that creed like “homoousious,” usually translated as “of one being” or “of one substance.” The root word behind that word, “ousia,” means substance as substance was understood in the Platonic philosophy of the fourth century CE. That word appears only rarely in the Greek originals of the New Testament texts, where it means only something like “goods” or “property.” In the New Testament it has none of the meaning it had in Greek philosophy. The Nicene Creed used the word in its Greek philosophical meaning. That Creed was written by Greeks for Greeks not by Jews for Jews, so it spoke in the contemporary cultural idiom of the Greeks.

In the year 451 CE another Ecumenical Council, the Fourth, issued another creed of a sort sometimes called the Definition or Formula of Chalcedon, Chalcedon being the city in Asia Minor where the Council met. The Formula of Chalcedon dealt with the identity of Jesus Christ and the nature of the Trinity. Like Nicaea it used language from Greek philosophy, having like Nicaea having been written by Greeks mostly for Greeks. It says that Christ has two “natures,” using the Greek word physis for nature. It says that these two “natures” appear in one “Person,” using the Greek word “prosopon.” The one “Person” appears in one “hypostasis,” an essentially untranslatable Greek philosophical word that is also sometimes translated as “person.”

The words physis, prosopon, and hypostasis all had specific but quite complex meanings in Greek philosophy. They spoke meaningfully to the original Greek audiences of the Creeds, but the people who produced the Bible over the centuries would have understood them not at all. Neither do most people today. Take the word prosopon, translated as person, for example. We translate it as person, but it didn’t mean anything like our modern psychological sense of what a person is. The word originally referred to the masks Greek actors held before their faces to indicate the character they were playing or the character’s emotional state. We call that object a mask not a person. Prosopon came to mean something which expresses the nature of a thing or person. Fifth century Greeks would have understood that that’s what prosopon meant, or at least the educated among them would have. The people who produced the Bible would not have understood it at all, for Jewish thought had no equivalent; and all of the biblical authors (except probably for the author we know as Luke) were Jews. We don’t understand prosopon today either unless we’ve made a point of studying its meaning. We translate it as person; but we mean something very different by person than the Greeks meant by prosopon, so we read the Nicene and Chalcedonian Creeds differently than their authors and original audience did. The language of Nicaea and Chalcedon spoke to the people of their times and places. It didn’t speak to Jewish people of its time, and it doesn’t much speak to us.

That’s contextual theology. Theology must speak to the people of its context, that is, of its time and place. When it does it may not speak much at all to people of a different time and place. Theology that seeks to reimagine the faith so that it speaks to the people of its time and place is called apologetics. That’s what Borg is doing. It’s also what I do in my books Liberating Christianity and Liberating the Bible. People today say that the world is changing. It is more accurate to say that it has already changed, it’s just that not everyone knows it yet. The kind of Christianity that Borg calls the Earlier Paradigm is a kind of Christianity that spoke to people in our country primarily in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It is the Christianity probably all of us were taught as we grew up in the church. What far too many people haven’t realized yet is that the world has moved beyond it, and Christianity must move beyond it too if it is to survive.

Most Christians don’t know it, but that Christianity that we were all taught is not ancient Christianity. It is actually quite modern Christianity. It is grounded in certain assumptions about the nature of truth that are modern not ancient. They come from the European Enlightenment of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and they come from the Scientific Revolution that was such an important part of the Enlightenment. Those assumptions include most significantly the belief that truth consists only of facts. Because in the time of the Enlightenment and ever since science has made so many astounding discoveries about the natural world that we take to be fact, truth got reduced to fact. People began to assume that the Bible must be speaking about facts because only facts are true. Thus, if the Bible is true it must be factual. That’s why some Christians cling so desperately to a belief in the factual truth of, for example, the six days of creation story with which the Bible opens. They cling to believing that it is factually true because for them if it isn’t factually true it contains no truth at all. These Christians don’t know that in the time when Genesis 1 was written it would have occurred to no one that the purpose of such writing was primarily to convey facts. The purpose of such writing was to convey what theologians (other than Borg and some others aiming at a popular audience) call mythic truth. Mythic truth is truth told through story not through factual reporting. It is truth to which a writing points, a truth that lies beneath and beyond the writing to which the writing points but which it can never fully capture. European culture, and through it the dominant North American culture, lost belief in that kind of truth in the Enlightenment. That’s why we were all taught, for example, that the story of Noah and the ark happened as a matter of fact just as the Bible supposedly tells it (supposedly because in that story there are actually two versions of how many animals Noah was to take—you can look it up) when actually the author of that story surely never considered that he was writing fact just as the authors of either of the creation stories in Genesis ever considered that they were writing fact.

Our loss of an appreciation of mythic truth is just one example of how Christianity that spoke to a world that had lost that kind of truth no longer speaks to a great many people today. The world has changed. One of the ways in which it has changed is that the leading elements of western culture have rediscovered mythic truth. Borg calls it metaphoric truth, but the technically correct term for it is mythic truth. Using the intellectual tools developed in the Enlightenment we have discovered that it just isn’t possible to believe that everything in the Bible is factually true. No, Joshua didn’t make the sun stand still in the sky because the sun doesn’t actually move across the sky. It just looks to us like it does. See Joshua 10:12-13. But we have also rediscovered that many—not all but many—parts of the Bible that surely are not factually true are nonetheless profoundly true. The creation story of Genesis 1:1 to 2:3 is a prime example. Many Bible stories are more true than any mere fact could ever be. They are more true because they speak of God, and God ultimately transcends all of our meagre facts.

Other examples of how the Christianity of the modern, rationalistic world has become outmoded could easily be given, but I trust the point is made. The world changes. Culture changes. Christianity must and throughout its history has changed to speak to new and newly emerging worlds. Christianity in western Europe and North America has been doing that for at least a century as the reality that the world of modernism was changing into the world of postmodernism started to become apparent. Bog’s book The Heart of Christianity is a very good popular introduction to how contemporary Christianity has changed in response to a changed and changing world. It is a good example of popular contextual, apologetic theology.

What Is Modernism"?


This is a piece I wrote to help people uninformed about current Christian theology prepare to read Marcus Borg's book The Heart of Christianity.

What is Modernism?

Rev. Dr. Tom Sorenson, Pastor

March, 2017



In his book The Heart of Christianity Marcus Borg uses phrases like “modern” or “the modern period” as though everyone understood what he means by them. I rather doubt that everyone understands what he means by them unless they have taken the trouble to study the matter and learned what they mean. So I want to give a brief introduction here to the notion of “modernism,” a word that points to all of the things Borg and others mean by words like “modern.”

To understand what modernism is we need to understand that an enormous shift in how people understand the world took place in western Europe in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Historians call this shift “the Enlightenment.” It is perhaps an unfortunate term. It suggests that before the Enlightenment people lived in darkness. Indeed, I have seen a Soviet writer say of a man (on whom I wrote my Ph.D. dissertation) who worked in the field of public education that he brought not enlightenment to the people but “endarkenment.” Dark is the opposite of light, yet we must understand that people who lived before the Enlightenment weren’t necessarily “in the dark.” They just understood things differently than did the people of the Enlightenment and everyone whose world view has been shaped by it. That “everyone,” by the way, includes all of us. We are all children of the Enlightenment whether we’re aware of it or not.

We start with a brief review of how people in western Europe understood the world and the nature of truth before the Enlightenment, that is, in what we call the premodern period. In the premodern period the most profound truth was understood to come to us through divine revelation. People knew about God not because they reasoned their way to an understanding that there must be a God and to an understanding of the nature of that God but because they believed God had revealed Godself to them. That revelation came in different ways depending on whether a person was Catholic or, starting in the early sixteenth century, Protestant. What Catholicism and Protestantism had in common was a belief in divine revelation as the source of profound truth. Premodern people could be very rationalistic. The great theologians of what we call Scholasticism in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries like Anselm of Canterbury and Thomas Aquinas were rationalistic in the extreme, but they applied rationalistic analysis to what they took to be revealed divine truths. Thus, when Anselm wrote his book Cur Deus Homo (Why God Became Human) he assumed the divine identity of Jesus Christ as revealed truth. He didn’t reason his way to it. He reasoned his way to what he thought it meant (an understanding, by the way, that essentially took over western Christianity and is even today what most people, but not most postmodern people, think Christianity is).

In the premodern world most people probably took the accounts in the Bible to be factually correct. They took them to be fact because they had no reason not to. The Scientific Revolution that was such a big part of the Enlightenment hadn’t happened yet. For example, it looks to us like the sun revolves around the earth. The Bible says the sun revolves around the earth and that Joshua made it stand still. So for premodern people the sun revolved around the earth and Joshua made it stand still. Premodern people probably took the story of Adam and Eve in Genesis to be factual. Science had not yet discovered all the clues about the evolution of the human species, so they had no real reason not to take that story as fact.[1]

Premodern people mostly took the Bible as factual, but they didn’t think that factual truth was primarily what the Bible was about. They understood that it contains truth far more significant than mere factual truth. They usually called that truth “allegorical” truth. They saw the great stories of the Bible as allegories, as stories that point beyond their mere facts to far deeper truths. They did not limit the truth of the Bible or the truths of the Christian faith to mere facts. They knew to look below the surface of the stories for far deeper truths.

The Enlightenment can be said to have started in 1637 CE when Rene Descartes, a Frenchman, sat in his study and wrote in French “Je pense, donc je suis.” A few years later he said it in Latin, "Cogito ergo sum.” In English it’s “I think, therefore I am.” Descartes had set out to reason his way to truth because he had given up on religion as a way to truth. He took, or at least said that he took, nothing as revealed truth. The only thing he took as a given was his own existence. He knew he existed because he knew himself to be sitting there thinking. Hence “I think, therefore I am.”

Descartes rationalism, his claimed use of his own reason as the way to truth, became the distinguishing criterion of the Enlightenment. Human reason became the guide to truth in virtually every field of human endeavor, something it had never been before. Adam Smith applied reason to economics and came up with capitalism. John Locke applied human reason to politics and came up with a political theory that formed the basis of the American Constitution. Scientists like Isaac Newton and a great many others applied human reason to the study of the natural world.[2] They discovered new fact after new fact about that world. Indeed, what they discovered was taken precisely as established fact. The notion developed and became universally accepted that a scientific fact was an established, indisputable fact. Scientific fact was truth no one could deny. The belief in the infallibility of scientific fact actually isn’t very scientific, for science sees its “facts” only as hypotheses that can be challenged and changed when newly discovered data disputes them. Einstein proved that Newton’s theories of gravity actually missed the mark, but in Newton’s time and long thereafter no one knew that they did or believed that they could have. They and so many other scientific discoveries were taken as established fact.

Scientific truth as factual truth was so powerful that truth got reduced to fact in every area of human endeavor. Everyone wanted the truth of their field of study, whatever it was, to be as solid as scientific truth appeared to be. That meant it had to be factual truth. Even the truths of religious faith got reduced to factual truths. People came to believe that if the Bible wasn’t factually true it contained no truth at all. Premodern people never have believed that way, for what they called the allegorical truth of the Bible would remain even if the apparent facts in it turned out not to be facts at all.

The conviction that there was truth deeper than fact mostly got lost in the Enlightenment. A central part of modernism is the belief that only facts are true. That’s why so many Christians cling to the untenable belief that everything in the Bible must be factually true. Take the six days of creation story with which the Bible opens for example. It is impossible that that story is factually true, but people cling to its factuality by doing things like saying that the days that it names are actually geologic periods. The Bible doesn’t call them geologic periods. Still, if they are geologic periods they can be factually true. Turning the days into geologic periods in no way solves all of the factual problems of that story, but people cling to it anyway.[3] They cling to it because they are children of the Enlightenment. For them only facts are true.

The reduction of truth to fact that was a central feature of the Enlightenment took over western Christianity. We see that takeover in starkest relief in the beliefs of Christian Fundamentalism. Fundamentalism is a product of late-nineteenth-early-twentieth century American Christianity. It’s central tenets appeared only in a series of pamphlets published between 1910 and 1915. It insists that Christianity consists of five essential beliefs. They are:



1.      The inerrancy of the Bible.

2.      The literal (that is, the factual) nature of the biblical accounts.

3.      The virgin birth of Christ.

4.      The bodily resurrection (and ultimate return) of Christ.

5.      Christ’s death as a substitutionary atonement for human sin.



Fundamentalism is the Christianity of modernism reduced to its most basic beliefs. It is Christianity stripped of all truth but factual truth. Not all western Christians by any means became true Fundamentalists, but the factualism of Fundamentalism was shared by almost all American Christians during the time most of us grew up and were introduced to the faith.

Western culture has moved beyond modernism. At least its cutting edge has, and all of western culture will. One central feature of what we call (for lack of a better term) postmodernism is the recovery of truths deeper than mere factual truth that was a characteristic of the premodern world. Borg calls that deeper truth metaphorical. I call it mythic or symbolic, those being the technically correct terms for this kind of truth. Whatever we call it, it is a feature of premodernism that is also part of postmodernism. One significant difference between premodernism and postmodernism in their understanding of truth is that postmodernism accepts scientific discoveries as true in the realms of human knowledge to which they apply. Those discoveries hadn’t been made in the time of premodernism. Thus, postmodernism knows in a way that premodernism did not that the earth is not the center of the universe. We have no problem with it being a tiny planet orbiting an insignificant star far from the center of one galaxy out of an almost countless number of galaxies in the universe. We have no problem with the earth being 4 billion years old. We have no problem with the equivalence of matter and energy, as in E=mc2. We have no problem with human beings being the result of a very long process of the evolution of species. Premodernism knew none of those things nor a great many more. Modernist Christianity in its most elemental form has to deny them, or most of them, because it insists on reading the Bible as inerrant fact. What Borg calls the emerging paradigm accepts scientific truths because it knows that, while they may be more or less factually accurate, they are not the only kind of truth. There is truth that is far deeper than they are that is not inconsistent with them.

So that’s what modernism is, for our purposes at least. It is human reason and science raised to the level of ultimate truth; and it is the reduction of truth primarily to fact. Borg’s “earlier paradigm” is the Christianity of modernism. His “emerging paradigm” is at least the beginnings of a Christianity of postmodernism. The Christianity of modernism cannot survive more than maybe another hundred years or so because modernism has had its day and is fading into history. Postmodern Christianity is on the rise. We’d better pay attention.



[1] Not all premodern people took it as fact. The Church Father Origen, in the third century CE, said he thought taking it as fact was foolish. His voice was, however, that of a small minority of people. Most people took the story of Adam and Eve to be fact.
[2] There were scientific precursors to the Enlightenment. By the time Descartes wrote Cogito ergo sum astronomers from Copernicus to Galileo had already upended the earth-centered universe that everyone had believed in.
[3] One quick example. Genesis 1:3 has God creating light on the first day and “there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.” Evening is when the sun sets. Morning is when it rises but the sun isn’t created until the fourth day. See Genesis 1:14-16. The sun didn’t exist on the first day, according to this account. If this is a factual account, where did the light come from on the first day? Biblical literalism says “nothing is impossible for God.” In a sense that’s true, but in another sense it is the ultimate cop out of those for whom the Bible must be factually true. It doesn’t answer the question, it ducks it.