Faith Seeking Understanding

The word “theology” combines a Greek word for God, theos, with the suffix –ology (from the Latin and Greek logia) designating a science, branch of study, or subject of knowledge. We could say, then, that theology is the science or study of God. In fact, many theologians have understood theology in this sense. The great Thirteenth Century Dominican theologian Thomas Aquinas, for example, began his compendium of Christian teaching, the Summa Theologica, with the claim that “sacred doctrine” is the science of revealed truths. (ST I.1-2.)

We should be careful, however, about what the term “science” meant to a Medieval thinker like Aquinas. For Aquinas there were two basic sciences — philosophy and theology. What we today call “natural science” was considered part of philosophy. By calling theology (“sacred doctrine”) a science, Aquinas meant that through reasoned reflection on revealed truths we can obtain some knowledge about God.

This idea that theology is a practice of reasoned reflection on revealed truths echoed an earlier sentiment of the 12th Century theology Anselm of Canterbury:

I do not endeavor, O Lord, to penetrate your sublimity, for in no wise do I compare my understanding with that; but I long to understand in some degree your truth, which my heart believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe in order to understand. For this also I believe, –that unless I believed, I should not understand. Proslogion I.

Anselm titled this text fides quaerens intellectum — “faith seeking understanding.” “Faith seeking understanding” is perhaps one of the best definitions of theology we can offer.

The phrase “faith seeking understanding,” however, immediately surfaces a set of fundamental questions in Christian theology: how exactly do faith and understanding relate to each other? More basically, what is the relationship between faith and reason?

We will not try to answer these questions definitively. Across a variety of theologies there are different answers and nuances. At one end of this range of answers we find fideism — the notion that faith is held against reason or indifferent to reason At the other end is rationalism — the notion that truth can be known only through reason. We will not suggest a simple “middle way” between these extremes, but any robust Christian theology will try to navigate a course that is neither merely fideistic nor merely rationalistic. Jesus said the sum of all the commandments is to love God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Vibrant Christian life, a good human life, is about truth, which entails the mind — our reason.

Faith, Understanding, and Encounter

The relationship between faith and understanding suggests one reason why theology matters for every Christian. Our faith is not just a vague feeling or intuition. Faith has an object and content. Because of this, the 20th Century Protestant theologian Karl Barth said

We can even dare to say that every Christian — in however primitive and rudimentary a way — can and must be a theologian, and that no matter how primitive and rudimentary he can and must be a good theologian, having a true vision of the One in whom he believes, having true thoughts concerning Him and finding the right words to express those thoughts.

CD IV.1 § 63, 2. [765].

Barth was not suggesting that “believing the right things” makes a person a Christian. As Barth said the object of faith is “Jesus Christ Himself, not a biblical text which attest Him or a biblical or churchly thesis which proclaims Him. ” [CD IV.1 § 63, 2. [760]. Christian faith is an “encounter” with Jesus. [Ibid., 761.] But faith at its most basic is trust that God is good and loves us. Therefore, a kind of “understanding” connects to faith. Or, better stated, faith and understanding are always intertwined, like the double helix of a strand of DNA. We can’t really ask which comes “first.” And because God revealed in Jesus is the object of Christian faith, this encounter happens not “in a featureless way which is at the mercy of every possible conception and interpretation” but in a way determined by the person of Jesus himself. [Ibid., 762]

Theology and Narrative

The discussion of theology as faith seeking understanding above can sound a bit dry and intellectual, even with the recognition that Christian faith involves encounter with the person of Jesus. Another way to think about theology is in terms of narrative, or the story of God’s relationship to the world and to us.

We can think of this story, from the perspective of Christian faith, in three acts woven through the stories of the Bible: creation, fall, and reconciliation. God created the world, including human beings, in plenty and harmony. Human beings rebelled against God (the “fall”) and disrupted this harmony, resulting in alienation, violence, and death. God acted to restore creation and to reconcile human beings with nature, each other, and with God himself. God’s action of reconciliation includes several interconnected scenes: he calls the Jewish people to a unique role; he enters into human experience and suffering in Jesus, who dies on the cross for our sins and rises again to defeat death; the community of God’s uniquely called people expands to include everyone; a future remains in which God, through Jesus, will bring all of history to a just conclusion.

Notice that this grand narrative raises interesting questions about how the story works and what the characters are like. We all know there is lots wrong with the world. We all know we don’t individually always live up to ideals of goodness, compassion, and truth. We all know that death finally comes for everyone, but most of us believe, deep down, that death shouldn’t have the last word. But we wonder, what is this character called “God?” How is it possible for human creatures to rebel in such a disastrous way? What kind of relationship does God have with Israel and why is this part of the story? How is it that this human being, Jesus, is God entering into human suffering? How does Jesus’ death make any difference for our sins and how does the astonishing and seemingly absurd claim about his resurrection relate to the power of death over us? How will God finally bring history to a just conclusion and how is this justice related to mercy and love?

Theology is a kind of commentary on the story. Without eclipsing the narrative itself, theology helps us consider why the story looks as it does, what the story means, and how the story might be true.

Theology and Witness

Theology is a form of public witness. It is an apologia, an explanation offered to people both within and outside a faith community, about why the community exists and why the community lives certain ways and practices certain things. Because Christian theology is intimately bound up with encounter and narrative, it is also a witness to the Gospel, the good news of the Kingdom of God arrived in Jesus. As a witness to the Gospel, Christian theology is missional, an invitation for those within the community to grow deeper in the love of God and for those outside the community to enter in.

Theology and Ethics

Whether we think about theology in intellectual terms as “faith seeking understanding,” or in narrative terms as commentary on the great story of creation-fall-reconciliation, we might still wonder “how does this affect my life?” Here we can suggest a close connection between theology and ethics. In fact, some contemporary theologians, such as Stanley Hauerwas and Oliver O’Donovan, argue that theology is ethics and that ethics is theology. In other words, theology tells us what it means to live a good life and informs the kinds of community structures and communal and personal practices that enable us to live a good life.

This doesn’t mean theology is all about do’s and don’ts, although all theologies include some principles of right living (for example, “love your neighbor as yourself”) and some limitations on destructive conduct (for example, “you shall not kill”). When Christian theology speaks of God’s goodness, of the beauty of the created world, of the “image of God” given to every human being, of God’s participation in our suffering through Jesus, it offers a basis for specific practices such as caring for the poor, advocating for justice, and honoring meaningful relationships including friendship, family, and marriage.

To return to Jesus’ restatement of all the commandments: the heart, mind, soul, and strength describe the fullness of the human person. When we love God with the fullness of our humanity we experience what it means to be fully human, which in turn allows us to love our neighbors as our selves. The heart, our passions, informs the mind, our intellect, which informs our soul, the shape of our being, which enables our strength, the power of our actions. The passion for God leads us to seek understanding so that our being is shaped in ways that produce loving actions. Theology, faith seeking understanding, commenting on the great story, is at the center of the good life.

Theology and Worship

Theology is also closely connected to worship. One of the main reasons we gather as a Christian community on Sundays and at other times is to worship God. In fact, a deep theme in all Christian traditions, as well as in Jewish and Islamic thought, is that one of the primary purpose of human life is to worship God.

But why should we worship God? In our secular, individualistic Western culture, the concept of “worship” is strange. It conjures images of mindless, degrading superstition. Theology helps us understand who we are as human beings, who God is as God, and why worship unites us with God in ways that bring peace, satisfaction, and joy.

One way in which theology informs worship is by directing the intention of our worship in the right direction, towards God. Worship is not merely an intellectual exercise, but as we said before, the heart, our passions, informs the mind, our intellect, which informs our soul, the shape of our being, which enables our strength, the power of our actions. Part of worship involves focusing the intellect on its highest subject, which is God.

Theology also helps us avoid false worship — that is, idolatry. If we direct worship to something other than God, we are committing idolatry, and we are in danger of becoming subject to practices that are mindless, degrading, and superstitious. Christian theology tells us that no human being can define God. God is always beyond the capacity of the human intellect. However, the human intellect can discern something about what God is like — by analogy — and some things about what God is not like — by negation. If someone suggests, for example, that we should worship God through making human sacrifices, we have good reasons to say God is not like someone who delights in such sacrifices, and we can avoid that harmful, idolatrous practice. More subtly, we may need to discern if our actions and practices suggest we are worshipping money, status, national or racial identity, or some other false god.

Theology and Contemplation

Finally, theology is also intimately connected to contemplative practices. The deep themes of Christian theology stretch the intellect beyond its capacity and fill the heart with wonder. The center of Christian theology is Jesus Christ, fully God and fully man. To be human is to be something less than God, and to be God is to be something infinitely greater than any created thing, including humans. So how can Jesus be both fully God and fully man? This Jesus, Christians say, died a falsely-accused criminal’s death on a Roman cross, a death that was for all the sins of the world. How could this one man’s death suffice for every man’s sin? And on the third day, we say, Jesus rose from the dead, and by his resurrection defeated the power of sin and death forever. How can anyone defeat death? Finally, Christians also claim that Jesus, the Divine Son, is not a different god than the God of Israel, whom Jesus called “Father,” and that the “Spirit,” referred to often in the New Testament, is also God. How can we claim to believe in one God but refer to these three persons of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit?

Christian theology’s core claims about Christology (the nature of Jesus), the atonement (the death of Jesus), the resurrection, and the Trinity draw us into the deepest mysteries of being. These are not concepts we master — they are realities we reflect and meditate upon.

Theology, then, is a practice that engages the heart, soul, mind, and strength. It flows from encounter with God in Jesus, brings wisdom and understanding, encourages us to inhabit the story of God’s redemption, inspires us towards ethical action and robust worship, and invites us to rest and contemplation. As such, theology is essential to any Christian life and to any Christian community.

What Theology is Not

We’ve said quite a bit about what theology is. Let’s mention a few things theology is not.

Theology is not doctrine. Or, better stated, theology cannot be reduced to doctrines. Doctrines are discrete claims about specific areas belief within a theological system or faith community. Theologies do tend to produce doctrines. Christian theology is no exception — the most basic sort of Christian theological framework will connect to certain doctrines. In our discussion of theology and contemplation, for example, we referred to doctrines of Christology, the Trinity, the atonement, and the resurrection. Without these doctrines, I’ll suggest during this class, we probably aren’t discussing Christian theology. But it’s helpful to remember that we don’t begin with doctrines. We begin, most broadly, with some sense of faith seeking understanding. The nature of that faith and of that understanding may result in some doctrines, but the doctrines are a kind of second or third level of derivation from the more basic theology.

This is important because, as time goes on, doctrines tend to proliferate while the beauty, simplicity, freedom, and mystery of “faith seeking understanding” gets lost. Often this proliferation of doctrines, sub-doctrines, sub-sub-doctrines, and so-on leads to unproductive disputes and divisions within a faith community. Over time, some favored collection of doctrines usurps theology and becomes a new standard for fidelity and community. For example, the Heidelberg Catechism, written in 1563 and still used by many Reformed churches, contains 129 questions and answers while the 1992 Catechism of the Roman Catholic Church contains 2,865 numbered paragraphs. It’s not necessarily bad that these different communions have created different documents for intellectual and spiritual formation in response to specific historical circumstances and concerns — if we can remember that these more detailed statements are derivative of much more basic theological truths, which in turn are derivative of the far more basic reality of God himself.

Further, theology is not the thing itself. A theology of God’s nature is not God. Theology is human understanding expressed in human words. This means theology is comprised of words about things. A theology about Christ’s divinity and humanity is not Christ. A theology of the atonement is not the atonement — and so on. Since theology deals with God, who by definition is infinitely beyond human thought, theology is human words about that which cannot be directly or fully described or expressed.

This means possessing a theology or doctrine is not to possess God and that lacking a theology or doctrine is not God’s absence. Studying theology therefore should not become a source of pride, and disagreements about theology therefore should not become occasions for hatred or violence. This doesn’t make theology unimportant, nor does it mean a Christian community should become lazy about what it teaches and proclaims. As we’ve said, theology is a practice of love that engages the heart, mind, soul and strength. It is an important element in how we as human beings relate to our creator and redeemer. Good theology facilitates deep faith and just practices; bad theology corrodes and traumatizes. Good theology invites the community and the world to worship God and to participate in God’s peaceable Kingdom; bad theology produces idols that degrade our humanity. Theology matters. But, good theology, paradoxically, counsels us to let go of our claims to possession and instead to be claimed by God’s love in Christ.

Finally, theology is not the object of faith or the goal of faith. The object of faith, that in which we place our faith, is God made known to us in Jesus. The goal of faith, the hope to which faith gives substance, is union with God in love. Theology is involved in the symbols through which we are initiated into the community of Christian faith and in the terms by which we confess our faith as the way of affirming for us, before God, the Christian community, and the world, that our faith resides in Jesus. We receive the waters of baptism and the gifts of the Lord’s Supper as the tangible sign and means of God’s acceptance of us; we confess, at our baptism or confirmation, in worship, and in church membership and ordination, that Jesus is our Lord and Savior. For us, and for our understanding, we have these signs and these words — but the signs and the words point beyond themselves to the mystery of Christ. Theology and the sacraments are provisional, but love endures forever.