This quarter I'm working on a paper (which hopefully will eventually turn into a chapter of my dissertation) on Bonhoeffer's intellectual formation. It really is a fascinating study. I'm specifically looking at what Bonhoeffer studied while he was in Tegel prison and how that impacted the formation of his concept of 'religionless' Christianity. I'm amazed at the volume of material that Bonhoeffer worked through during his time in prison, and then the resulting productivity. He was reading history, philosophy, theology, science, novels, poems and music. I hardly know where to begin or how to focus my investigation. And this is not to mention all of the other influences before his imprisonment. Some important names are bubbling to the surface, though, including Wilhelm Dilthey, Jose Ortega y Gasset, C. F. von Weizsacker, G. W. F. Hegel, Rudolf Bultmann and Karl Barth (just to name a few). I'm still in the gathering stage of my research, so I don't have many conclusions to offer at this point. But I can offer some thoughts on how this project is impacting me on a personal level.
You may remember that earlier this summer I read Paul Tillich's "A History of Christian Thought." Now, the thing about studying history, is you begin to realize the incredible interconnectedness of the development of ideas. Every historical figure is indebted to another historical figure. Sometimes they are indebted in a negative sense, by being against a line of thinking. Other times, a breakthrough occurs only because someone takes the next step beyond the previous great thinker. But in every case, what comes next is only possible because of what came before.
All of this study of the development of ideas is making me think of my own influences. The big one for me is, of course, Bonhoeffer. After all, I am dedicating the next several years of my life to producing new scholarship on him. Certainly I won't make it out the other end without his profound influence on my life (for better or for worse - I'm counting on for better). And I have to admit, in large part I picked Bonhoeffer for my doctoral studies (and ThM studies for that matter) because I want to be influenced by him.
I often have people ask me why I picked Bonhoeffer. The short answer is that I needed something to study if I wanted to do doctoral work, and Bonhoeffer piqued my interest during my MDiv studies. But the deeper answer is that in Bonhoeffer I find not only a theology but a life that profoundly illustrates the incredible potential of following Jesus Christ. Bonhoeffer challenges me, and helps me, to think seriously about theology and about how theology should change the way I live. Bonhoeffer convinces me that theology and life go together; there is just no way around it. What I believe must have everything to do with how I act. And if it doesn't, then I have to ask myself what I actually believe.
My interest in Bonhoeffer is certainly driven by intellectual curiosity; I wouldn't put myself through the pains of doctoral work if my mind didn't thoroughly enjoy the task at hand. But, to be honest, studying Bonhoeffer can't be just an intellectual exercise for me. I'm pouring my life into this because I am convinced that through and with Bonhoeffer the church can better understand its place in the midst of this world. And this is where I arrive at the concept of discipleship.
I certainly don't know how it will all come together, but my hope is that by the end of this leg of my journey, I will have a theology of discipleship to offer. My dissertation will certainly be full of scholarly nuance and more footnotes than all but my examiners will probably read, but I want it to be something that equips me for a future of disciple-making. I want to offer a way for people to think about how their belief in the triune God actually makes a difference in their daily lives. And then I want to help students or church-goers or people just wondering about God to process their belief into a life of trust and hope in Jesus Christ.
This gets me thinking about one last thing. I was talking to a friend this week about curriculum and curriculum development for the church. And I can't help but think about how the concept of discipleship, which is so personalized, can be disseminated through educational ministries. In my mind, the teaching ministry of the church is for disciple-making (this certainly is not a new idea). But the difficulty lies in the difference between information and formation. How is the curriculum we use to spread information involved in actual spiritual formation? The answer certainly depends on a number of factors. Perhaps the greatest of these factors is the commitment to discipleship of the teachers and leaders of our educational ministries. When discipleship is a core value of a church, what is taught will be reflected in what is lived out within the congregation, and into the surrounding community and world.
Because what we think makes a profound difference in how we act. At least that's what I get from Bonhoeffer.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
The Religious Enlightenment
Well, I'm now two weeks into my first doctoral seminar, and I'm very happy with the course and with the trajectory of my PhD program. My seminar is called The Church in Modern Society and is exploring the influence of the Enlightenment and secularization on the development of theology and the church (mostly in England and America) from the 17th through the 20th centuries. It really is a fascinating and important topic to explore and understand.
One of the questions that we've been looking at these first two weeks is the notion that the Enlightenment and Christianity were historically over and against each other. I know I at least remember learning that with the advance of reason in the Enlightenment, the church was put on the defensive and faith was characterized as struggling to hold out against the mighty forces of science and reason. In some ways, this has been true in modern history; but in many ways this is certainly not the case.
Take John Locke, for example (no, not the John Locke from the TV show 'Lost,' but the philosopher-scientist John Locke from 17th c. England). He has been widely looked to as one of the fathers of the science of reason and logic, and has therefore been understood as being against the Christian faith. One of the questions we looked at in reading Locke in our seminar, then, was whether based on his writings we could discern if he was an 'orthodox' Christian.
We read his essay/book "The Reasonableness of Christianity." That's a pretty 'Enlightened' title, isn't it? In this book, Locke meticulously employs the modern constructs of reason to clearly argue for the truth of Christianity. And what is the central question of truth for Locke? It is whether or not Jesus Christ is the Messiah. Now, Locke might end up straying slightly from some other traditional theological positions, but anyone who combs through the Bible to prove that Jesus is the Christ, and that to be a Christian means living in faith and obedience to Jesus, is in my mind on the right track.
There are more examples of Enlightened thinkers who actually see and use reason as proof of faith, and not the other way around. Isaac Newton, for one, discovers and articulates an entirely new worldview using physics, and then offers the order of the cosmos as clear evidence of God's providence. Newton then partners with other leading Christians and scientists to promote the Christian faith through reason and science (see the Boyle lectures beginning in 1691).
It can be argued, then, that the Enlightenment should really be called the Religious Enlightenment. And what's amazing is that just in the last 30 or 40 years, historical scholars have been reassessing their interpretation of the Enlightenment as being embodied in reason against faith. As we look more and more at the primary sources of Enlightenment ideas and notice that the fathers of the Enlightenment were employing reason with faith to understand biblical Christianity for their time, it becomes clear that this really was a Religious Enlightenment.
Now this is certainly not to say that the Enlightenment was completely religious through and through. It is at this time, for example, that the deist movement and secularization begin to rise. But we must be more careful and nuanced in how we understand the development of faith and reason, because how we understand history has (or at least should have) a profound effect on our current worldview and our vision of the future.
One of the questions that we've been looking at these first two weeks is the notion that the Enlightenment and Christianity were historically over and against each other. I know I at least remember learning that with the advance of reason in the Enlightenment, the church was put on the defensive and faith was characterized as struggling to hold out against the mighty forces of science and reason. In some ways, this has been true in modern history; but in many ways this is certainly not the case.
Take John Locke, for example (no, not the John Locke from the TV show 'Lost,' but the philosopher-scientist John Locke from 17th c. England). He has been widely looked to as one of the fathers of the science of reason and logic, and has therefore been understood as being against the Christian faith. One of the questions we looked at in reading Locke in our seminar, then, was whether based on his writings we could discern if he was an 'orthodox' Christian.
We read his essay/book "The Reasonableness of Christianity." That's a pretty 'Enlightened' title, isn't it? In this book, Locke meticulously employs the modern constructs of reason to clearly argue for the truth of Christianity. And what is the central question of truth for Locke? It is whether or not Jesus Christ is the Messiah. Now, Locke might end up straying slightly from some other traditional theological positions, but anyone who combs through the Bible to prove that Jesus is the Christ, and that to be a Christian means living in faith and obedience to Jesus, is in my mind on the right track.
There are more examples of Enlightened thinkers who actually see and use reason as proof of faith, and not the other way around. Isaac Newton, for one, discovers and articulates an entirely new worldview using physics, and then offers the order of the cosmos as clear evidence of God's providence. Newton then partners with other leading Christians and scientists to promote the Christian faith through reason and science (see the Boyle lectures beginning in 1691).
It can be argued, then, that the Enlightenment should really be called the Religious Enlightenment. And what's amazing is that just in the last 30 or 40 years, historical scholars have been reassessing their interpretation of the Enlightenment as being embodied in reason against faith. As we look more and more at the primary sources of Enlightenment ideas and notice that the fathers of the Enlightenment were employing reason with faith to understand biblical Christianity for their time, it becomes clear that this really was a Religious Enlightenment.
Now this is certainly not to say that the Enlightenment was completely religious through and through. It is at this time, for example, that the deist movement and secularization begin to rise. But we must be more careful and nuanced in how we understand the development of faith and reason, because how we understand history has (or at least should have) a profound effect on our current worldview and our vision of the future.
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