One of the results of post-modern thought in theology is a new found interest in multiperspectivalism. Multiperspectivalism is a communal approach to idea generation that seeks to create ideas from multiple perspectives. This is different from Frame's "Multiperspectivalism", in several ways, most notably that Frame's Multiperspectivalism is a description of how any given individual knows anything. In my use of the term, I intend to communicate a method of generating communal knowledge. Where you once had a doctrinal tradition expounded over and against other doctrinal traditions, we now have the presentation of competing perspectives as mutually beneficial perspectives. This is alternatively seen as good or ill, depending upon one's traditions and presuppositions, but it is sufficient at present to acknowledge that this situation is the case.
A few examples will suffice to demonstrate this situation. In his
Symphonic Theology (P&R Publishing, 1987), Vern Poythress suggests that the non-technical language used in the Bible presents differing perspectives getting at a single truth (the example Poythress uses is the plural nature of the four gospels). This kind of statement is significant because it was written by a tenured professor at a highly rigid evangelical school (Westminster Theological Seminary, which recently dismissed Peter Enns because his published work
Inspiration and Incarnation did not conform to the Westminster Confession), and was published by a very narrowly focused publishing house (as its name, "Presbyterian and Reformed" implies). Poythress may only be presenting material common to linguistic science, but he is able to do so in a context that typically places creed above all else. This is an indication of the level of acceptance that multiperspectivalism has gained. Other examples include the plethora of works out now that contain "multiple perspectives" on items of theological controversy. In the not too distant past one would never have seen a book dedicated to dividing equal space among four opposing views of baptism. Even more poignant, perhaps, is the increasing number of multiple perspective conferences being held by the Southern Baptist schools and seminaries. These kinds of historically-embedded institutions (Presbyterian and Southern Baptist) have theological traditions as rich and inflexible as pre-Vatican II Rome. The results of multiperspectival theology have been staggering. My purpose is not to examine whether this recent trend is
good or
bad, but only to note that we are not doing multiperspectival theology
well.
How can I make such a statement, and how do I intend to defend it? Multiperspectivalism is based upon certain presuppositions - it is the solution to a set of difficulties that modern language theory presents us with. Because this post is not about language theory, and for the sake of space, I will present the basic presuppositions that lead to multiperspectival approaches of communal theology. The most basic presupposition is that people come to theological convictions based upon their own specific circumstances and experiences. For example, a Catholic in Utah may view his Mormon neighbors as sincerely good if theologically misguided people. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, however, had a very different view. He consistently presented Mormons as insidious cultic murderers, who would kill to keep their membership rituals secret. It is safe to say that both have the same idea in view - that Mormon theology is wrong at some level. However, the respective views on what this means or how it works out are very different. Another basic presupposition is that a perspective is not the whole truth. My understanding of even well documented historical events, such as the terrorist attacks of 9/11, constitute a very narrow slice of the pie. A third basic presupposition is that a parallel examination of these perspectives is not an exclusive competition, but an inclusive complementation. These basic presumptions lead to a multiperspectival approach to communal theology.
But are we doing multiperspectival theology well? Let us return to our presuppositions and revisit what makes multiperspectivalism important. There are three things upon which our basic presuppositions are built. The first is divergent experience. Without divergent experience, our first presupposition breaks down. In order for our knowledge and beliefs to depend upon our divergent experience, we must have divergent experience. This is not a binary relationship, however. It is not as if the simple fact of divergent life experience necessitates multiple theological perspectives. Rather, there is a range of effect here, where the greater the divergence of experience, the greater the divergence of theology we expect to find. This is true even for dogmatic faith. Thus, the broken communion between the two-thirds-world Anglican church and the English/North American Anglican church. Although they embrace the same creed and liturgy, they have moved far enough apart to even break fellowship. This is largely a result of vastly different experience. This is one reason for the continuing interest in the history of the early church and its theology. We are finding that the evolution of Christian theology over the last two thousand years presents a very divergent understanding of some basic theological points. Several post-reformation protestant writings, for example, posit Rome as the harlot of Revelation, and the Pope as the Antichrist. Conversely, prior to the Reformation it was universally acknowledged that the one catholic church constituted the people of God, with the bishops and Pope as God's divinely appointed ministers. Such radically divergent views are clearly products of their respective times.
The second thing upon which our presuppositions are built is the limited scope of anyone's knowledge or ideas. While this can again be accepted as self evident, it should be noted that this idea has a range of influence upon our presupposition. The greater knowledge and experience a person has, the less narrow his views are likely to be (interestingly, this idea corroborates the old adage of the wisdom of grey hair). For example, a person raised in Spain is likely to experience Christianity only as Roman Catholic. A person raised in Papua New guinea may have an equally (or even more) narrow understanding of Christianity, albeit radically different. A world-travelling theologian who spends time in divergent traditions is likely to have a more holistic understanding of Christianity. The idea behind multiperspectivalism is that no community can consist of world travelling theologians inhabiting divergent traditions, especially when that community is itself a religious tradition! Multiperspectivalism is a way to take the narrow views of a community's individuals, and create a communal knowledge that is more robust and indicative of the whole.
The third thing undergirding our presuppositions is that many good Christian men and women have held quite opposing views. In the evangelical tradition alone you have Tom Nettles (traditional Baptist), Richard Pratt (traditional Presbyterian), Robert Kolb (traditional Lutheran), and John Castelein (traditional Church of Christ) presenting their views on baptism in one volume (
Understanding Four Views on Baptism, Zondervan, 2007). In fact, throughout church history there have been many very devout men who disagreed sharply on some things (one thinks of Whitfield and Wesley). Given the good fruit of these people, we conclude that it is more beneficial to examine their perspectives as complementary, rather than competitive. This is not to say that all differences are matters of perspective, or that all perspectives are valid, but rather that it is more beneficial to examine a perspective before discarding it.
The primary performance analysis, then, asks "are these elements present in evangelical multiperspectivalism, and if so, to what degree?" The answer to this question will determine if we are doing multiperspectivalism well.
Our first presupposition is that divergent experiences are necessary for good multiple perspective discourse. Do we have this is evangelicalism? I would answer no. There seems to be a sort of bait-and-switch going on here. We headline events with such titles as "perspectives on multi-campus churches", then invite four pastors from middle class white suburban Baptist churches to respond. It is hard to see how these men can have any significantly divergent experience. Sometimes, it is presumed that including members of differing denominations or creeds constitutes a multiple perspective debate. Usually, such is not the case. While academic knowledge of a different theological stream may help somewhat, most of the participants are still of identical socio-economic status, gender, nationality, race, and ethnicity. I suggest that a truly multiperspectival conversation needs to include people of the same tradition, but different socio-economic status, education, ethnicity, and nationality. What does a Panamanian Baptist have in common with a Southern Baptist? Where does she differ? What does a Christian in Sudan look like? Do they even have denominations? What can people with truly divergent experiences add to our conversations? I enjoyed a class on early church history that I shared with young, old, male, female, black, white, and even foreign seminary students. We had some interestingly brisk discussions surrounding baptism. I found these to be hugely beneficial. But most evangelical traditions do not include this kind of diversity in their multiple perspective discussions.
Our second presupposition is that a fuller picture of the truth can only be realized by fusing multiple perspectives. This stems from the inherent limitations to any one human's knowledge. Therefore, a robust multiperspectivalism includes an array of divergent knowledge and experience. I think evangelicalism has also largely failed here. Most multiple perspective approaches may have a few divergent theologies, but they tend to end there. For example, some have tried to synthesize Piper and Wright on Paul's view of Justification. These are divergent views, to be sure. But what about learning outside of theology? Do we also try to bring the other sciences into our discussion? What about sociology, psychology, anthropology, biology? I think many Christians have a healthy distrust of these academics. Certainly some in these branches have made sport of intentionally trying to tear down the Christian faith. However, we should not throw the baby out with the bath water. Indeed, sometimes ignorance of these fields leads to Christians hurting more than helping in their mission. Is the missiologist given the opportunity to interact with the linguist? Are they then brought into conversation with the systematic theologian? This is a point of failure in evangelicalism, I believe. I already mentioned the situation that occurred between Enns and Westminster. Enns was presenting work that he believed brought modern ANE scholarship to bear on systematic theology. His work was rejected for not conforming to a creed (by the way, to clear up any misconceptions, Enns spoke with the board and resigned his position, he was not fired). If we presuppose creed, then multiperspectivalism becomes nothing more than interpreting other ideas into our presumed theology.
Our final presupposition is that the best way to handle divergent views is through conversation, where ideas are synthesized, subordinated, revised, excised, and even held in tension. Traditionally, theology (and, incidentally, all other fields of study) has taken the position that there is only one sort of pristine theology that we are ever refining. Multiperspectivalism presumes that our theology is more of a lifetime quest. No imperfect human can ever have perfect knowledge. Therefore, we pursue multiple perspectives on the greater whole. But I generally do not see evangelicalism doing this. Instead, most purported multiperspectival conversations are centered around impersonal currents of mainstream Christianity, rather than around the personal interpretation and application of believers and theologians. So a conference billed as "multiple perspectives on Baptism" typically includes three or four main streams of Christian thought, with the proponents presenting traditional and almost cliché arguments and defenses. This is poor execution. These defenses and attacks are first of all well-worn, and second, have usually been framed in an era where defeating your opponent meant more than coming to a deeper knowledge of the truth. These kinds of structures do not work well with multiperspectivalism. Instead, I propose that we present multiple perspectives as inclusive and personal, rather than exclusive and impersonal. If we cannot do that, then we need to eschew the multiple perspective model
en toto.
In conclusion, I do not believe that American evangelicalism is doing multiperspectivalism well. We have largely failed to include truly divergent people, we have largely failed to include truly divergent ideas and beliefs, and we have largely failed to hold such ideas in complementary fashion. I do not propose, however, to suggest a solution, only to note that we might want to reconsider using this sort of language if we don't intend to do it justice.
I'm a Pharisee. And I'm a Calvinist.
This post is a response to Shane Claiborne's article for Esquire magazine (which, if I have to tell you, is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by this blog. In fact, it is filled with the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, so don't read it. To read Shane's article, link here).
From the AP:
That, after all, is what Christmas is all about. From St. Athanasius:
I always loved science. My first Lego set was a "technic" model, complete with rack-and-pinion steering (at age six). In high school I blueprinted motor designs for Harley-Davidsons, tuning intake and exhaust length to leverage sonic resonance. Right now I have Maglight in my toolbox that I converted into a light-saber by replacing the bulb with a laser diode lifted from an old cd-burner. But reading through The God Delusion, I was struck again by how Dawkins just doesn't get it. I am referring to morality and causality. He writes about a time when he heard a scientist give a lecture. The scientist was corrected by another scientist, and he immediately admitted that he was wrong, and changed his lecture. Dawkins writes that he nearly got teary-eyed over the exchange. But notice what actually happened - the scientist who changed his mind was not wrong in a moral sense, but only wrong in the sense that he had incomplete knowledge. Dawkins is celebrating improved knowledge, but not improved morality. This is poignant precisely because Dawkins believes that religion is immoral. Dawkins claims to have the moral authority to condemn religion, but he neither develops this theme (which would be a bit, ahem, religious), nor turns his lens of criticism upon science. If religion is so evil, let me only ask the following. Who gave us the internal combustion engine, and anthropogenic global climate change? Who gave us the bomber, the machine gun, and the gas-chambers of WWII? Who gave us nuclear weapons? Who is cluttering the atmosphere with space junk? You see, Christians believe that people are born sinners. Scientist or priest, we will always turn our power toward destruction, unless the Lord intervenes. So before we start tarring and feathering those we disagree with, perhaps we should spend some time in quiet introspection.
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