One summer day when I was about ten, I started down the attic stairs of a New Jersey vacation house, wondering whether God had predetermined every worldly event. If each occurrence is preordained, I pondered, then I must be predestined to march straight down the stairs. Abruptly, I stopped on the third step. Here was my chance to thwart the Divine plan simply by returning—for no sensible reason whatsoever—to the top of the stairs! Boldly I turned and charged back up the steps.
When I reached the top, however, I could feel God laughing at me. Obviously, God had meant me to return to the top. Humbled, I started down the stairs again.
But scarcely had I begun, when I thought that surely Divine providence had predestined me to continue directly to the bottom this time. Eager to catch God by surprise, I turned once more and leaped up the stairs. Of course, no sooner had I reached the top than I realized that God could have meant me to do this, too. I concluded that there was no way I could know (at that point in my life at least) whether worldly events were predetermined or not.
Without knowing it, I was doing theology in its most basic form. Theology is not restricted to a scholarly elite. Everyone-including a ten-year-old-who seeks to translate personal spiritual awareness into thoughtfully structured form is a theologian.
We Friends are suspicious of theology. Didn’t it play a large role in the separations of the nineteenth century, which shattered the Society of Friends into many splinters? Haven’t we feared that the issue of Christocentricity versus non-Christocentricity could be used as a wedge to divide our meetings? Perhaps it is better to- refrain from articulating our, views too loudly.
There is another way, however. Theology doesn’t have to be used to distinguish the “saved” form the ”unbelievers” or to define a rigid creed. Rather, theology can help us share and understand our spiritual experiences. Through trying to articulate incidents from our lives, we can grow closer to people with whom we feel we have little in common. In addition, we can find soul mates among people who, centuries ago, pondered questions identical1to those we have now. Our desire for a consistent, holistic understanding of the scattered elements of our lives can be fulfilled.
What is theology? It is a response—a pondered human response to the presence of God among us. It is also a response to the concerns and strivings of people who seek richer, better-integrated lives.
Theology starts with revelation, with the active self-disclosure of the One called God, Elohim, Sustainer, Ruah, Spirit. A person can experience revelation through worship, prayer, existential searching, Bible study, thoughtful reading and everyday existence. The crucial point is that the first movement i theology is not a human one. A would-be theologian cannot set forth theological truths, nor even write about the views of another theologian in a manner which discloses the Divine reality unless the first movement is from God.
For a long time I had no authentic experience of the Light within. I thought a lot about the human condition, but I couldn’t make any sense out of God. Even now, if I try to force my spiritual life into words, or imagine things about God of which I have no experience, my words are barren. I need to wait expectantly and go forward only as far as I am led.
Theology thus starts with human limitation. This limitation has other aspects beside the need for patient waiting. Divine truth can never be expressed by humans except from a human perspective. No person can have an understanding of God or of Divine truth regarding the world outside of the relationship or dialogue between God and humanity. The task of the theologian is to express what is revealed within this dialogue.
Another limitation is that of language. Words cannot adequately express Divine revelation, and all theology is approximation. Not only is language in general unable to capture Divine truth, but each theologian writes m a specific language formed within a particular culture, and this inevitably colors what is said. Theologians today write with the recognition that their work cannot be the final word but is, at best, a true expression of God’s revelation which can speak to and for others of the same culture. Although works of theology written centuries ago can still enlighten us today, new theology will be written as different cultures experience God’s presence anew and seek to describe it in their own evolving linguistic forms.
A further limitation is that theology is never complete. No single work, nor all works of theology together, can ever encompass God’s revelation for all time. Human thought aims at comprehensiveness and strives to form a system, yet it is limited by its all-too-brief and partial glimpses of its object. Theology is always in process, never finished.
If, however, theology is so seriously limited from the outset, the question arises as to why it is attempted at all. Clearly there are other ways to respond to revelation than – through thoughtful prose-including song, poetry, art, dance, direct action, loving warmth and thanksgiving. All of these express the joy of God’s presence. Each of these, too, is limited and cannot capture God for all time. Yet some people are much better suited to one type of response than to another. The crucial point is that those who have experienced God’s presence have a special gift to share. As Matthew’s Gospel notes:
You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. Let your light so shine before the ‘ people that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in the heavens.
—Matthew 5:14-16 (Translated by Dodson through comparison of the Greek and the RSV)
Let us express the joy we know in communion with God! If our facility is with words, theology can be a way to verbalize our experiences and s are them with others.
Early Friends had a special theological perspective concerning the source of revelation, which grew from their spiritual experiences. Whereas the majority of Protestants saw the Scriptures as the essential resource for Divine revelation, early Friends, while intimately acquainted With the Bible, recognized the continuing direct revelation of God in the present through the Holy Spirit. In his journal George Fox related his own
conviction concerning the source of Devine truth:
… [the priest} told the people that the Scriptures were the touchstone and judge by which they were t; try all doctrines, religions, and opinions, and to end controversy. Now the Lord’s power was so mighty upon me, and so strong in me, that I could not hold, but was made to cry out and say, ‘Oh, no, it is not the Scriptures,’ and was commanded to (ell them God did not dwell i-n temples made with hands. But I told them what it was, namely, the Holy Spirit, by which the holy men of God gave forth the Scriptures, whereby opinions, religions, and judgements were to be tried, /or it led into all Truth, and so gave the knowledge of al Truth.
—George Fox, 1649 (Nickalls, p. 40)
Robert Barclay, theologian of early Friends, provided a normative view regarding the role of the Bible in revelation:
[concerning’ the Scriptures]… because they are only a declaration of the fountain, and not the fountain itself, therefore they are not to be esteemed the principal ground of all truth and knowledge, nor yet the adequate primary rule off faith and manners. Nevertheless, as that which giveth a true and faithful testimony of the first foundation, ‘ they are and may be esteemed a secondary rule, subordinate to the Spirit, from which they have all their excellency and certainty . . . .
—Robert Barclay, Apology Third Proposition
The Bible, because transmitted by fallible, essentially limited human beings, cannot contain all Divine truth nor adequate directives for faith and morality. The source of Divine truth, which the seeker must experience in order to gain genuine knowledge, was and still is the Holy Spirit, through which God speaks to humans in “outward voices and appearances, dreams” and “inward objective manifestations in the heart.” (Barclay, Apology, Second Proposition) The Bible is an invaluable spiritual resource, and it is too often ignored. However, it should not be leaned on as a crutch. We too can know revelation like that to which the Scriptures give witness.
Theology thus cannot be mere biblical interpretation. It can start with Scripture illumined by the Spirit. For some theologians, the attempt to formulate God’s revelation as perceived in the illuminated Scripture remains the sole task of theology. For others, including Friends, Divine revelation is also known through other forms. The theologian’s task is the careful, thoughtful expression of personally experienced revelation, no matter how this Divine truth is revealed.
Traditionally, a major task of Christian theology has been the interpretation of the rich body of symbols, practices and theologies developed century after century in response to Divine revelation. Friends have found much of this abundance to be clutter which hinders the concrete experience of God. Among the abundance, however, can be found jewels which speak directly to us, resonating with meaning we ourselves have experienced. A symbol, practice or theology ca’n help us understand our own lives, while rooting us firmly in a rich past. The Cross, the vine (John 15), expectant waiting, a Gregorian chant—all can help make our spiritual lives more vibrant.
Ways in which human limitations restrict theology have already been noted. But there is a positive side to the human factor. A theologian who receives revelation is a person who was born and will die who has suffered done wrong, hoped and feared, a person who longs for answers to deep, elusive questions. These human experiences and longings can become prayers which are answered. Here a significant role of theology in the life of a community and culture becomes clear. To the extent that theologians are able to grasp the deepest longings of their age and articulate a Divine response as accurately as possible, their theology can provide liberation and fulfillment for seekers. Theologians cannot manufacture their own solutions to human dilemmas and authentically call this theology. However, their attentive, concerned listening, both to tjle strivings of their community and to God, can result in meaningful, joy-filled lives for those who hear the r words.
Theology itself can contribute to oppression. The act of Writing down a revelation is an unavoidably biased act, given the cultural presuppositions and language of the writer. Some biases are expressed in Scripture and then generation after generation. For example, the Bible was written and has been interpreted for centuries, by people-the vast majority of whom have been men from androcentric cultures. Along with the revelation of God, traditional theology has expressed an androcentric bias and thus has helped perpetuate the oppression of women in male-imposed and unfulfilling roles.
The solution to the problem of bias-insofar as a solution is humanly possibilities in careful attention on the part of a theologian to the unnecessary suffering of the community and culture, and the ways in which theological formulations reinforce this suffering. A theologian must always express revelation, but the verbal forms in which revelation is couched are not revelation itself. These forms should change if they are found to contradict the revelation of Divine love, which urges an end to avoidable pain and to obstacles hindering human fulfillment.
Each of us can be a theologian. We can enrich our spiritual lives and those of [eople around us by articulating our spiritual experiences. In drawing on theological writings from the past, we can find continuity and wipe out feelings of isolation. We can define answers to our toughest concerns. Like ten-year-olds, we can dare to find out what God is saying to us.
Once I sat in meeting for worship absolutely certain that I had a message which needed to be . shared. However, I felt no leading whatsoever that I was the one to give the message. I waited and waited, feeling I would burst from the tension, until a woman across the room got up and gave’ my message much better than I could ever have given it. What was happening here? What did this mean in terms of the movement of the Spirit in our lives? These are questions for theology.