Problems of Theological Liberalism

Last month I posted an article about the appeal of theological liberalism, based on Chapter Three of my book The Limits of Liberalism, which I am updating and slightly revising this year. This post is about Chapter Four, which sets forth several of my misgivings about theological liberalism.

Preliminary Issues

Before looking at the more serious attitudinal and theological issues, first consider a couple of preliminary matters. The first is the difficulty of finding a position between the extremes.

In ancient Greek mythology, Scylla and Charybdis were the names of two sea monsters situated on opposite sides of the Strait of Messina between Sicily and Italy. The fearful monsters were located close enough to each other that they posed an inescapable threat to sailors who sought to pass between them. 

Avoiding Charybdis meant passing too closely to Scylla and vice versa. Accordingly, contemporary Christians are confronted with the challenge of having to pass between the Scylla of theological liberalism and the Charybdis of fundamentalism.

Many have been so intent on escaping Charybdis that they have sailed straight into the jaws of Scylla. But I repeatedly assert that we must always be careful not to flee one extreme only to fall into the opposite extreme. 

A second preliminary issue pertains to liberalism’s intended audience. Liberal theology is primarily espoused by the highly educated, sophisticated segment of society. However, the societal location of a majority of the people in the world is far from the privileged position of most who develop or affirm liberalism.

Attitudinal Issues

Three of the attitudinal problems of liberalism are found in its tendency toward compromise, arrogance, and uncertainty.

In Chapter Five, I suggest that liberals have sometimes been guilty of “throwing out the baby and keeping the bathwater.” They have tended to keep the generic teachings of Jesus and the Bible about doing good and being nice, while rejecting the traditional emphases on the uniqueness and the significance of Christ and the Bible.

Further, the liberals’ rejection of fundamentalism has often led to a sense of superiority. But whenever we belittle others and criticize their religious views because of our own “superior” position, is that not a form of arrogance?

Then, in fleeing the “monster” of fundamentalism, which often expresses absolute certainty, many are swallowed by the “monster” of liberalism, which tends to eschew certainty and even in some cases to glory in uncertainty.

The certainty of the fundamentalist can, and often does, lead to a form of arrogance on that side of the spectrum, but the lack of certainty—or of strong conviction about core theological beliefs—is a weakness in those who come down on the other side of that spectrum.

Theological Issues

Specific theological issues are dealt with in the subsequent chapters of my book, but this section of Chapter Four begins with a discussion of the problem of the starting point. Which comes first, revelation or reason?

In traditional and neo-orthodox theology, God’s initiative in revealing Godself to humans is the starting point for knowing God. In liberal theology, even if there is a recognition of revelation (which there may not be), it is secondary to human reason and experience.

The proclivity to place too much weight on human reason and too little on God’s revelation is a major problem of theological liberalism.

In addition, there is the problem of liberalism’s excessive optimism and tolerance, which I won’t elaborate further here.

Finally, of prime importance is the matter of truth. Within liberalism there is a strong tendency to slide into a relativism which, to quote Lesslie Newbigin, “is not willing to speak about truth but only about ‘what is true for me.’”

The problem of liberalism is seen more in what it denies than in what it affirms. Moreover, the limits of liberalism are found in that what it says is often true enough, but it falls short by not acknowledging all of the truth.

Affirming Secularization, Opposing Secularism

One of the most influential theological books published in 1965 was Harvey Cox’s The Secular City. Through the years I have thought much about that immensely popular book, which sold over one million copies.

Secularization vs. Secularism 

Cox’s first chapter is “Biblical Sources of Secularization” and the first subsection is “Secularization vs. Secularism”—and that distinction is one that I have considered highly important from the time I first read it while still in graduate school.

According to Cox, secularization is the historical process by which one dominant religion no longer has control over a particular society or culture. But secularization is much different from secularism. 

So, what is secularism? Secularism, Cox contends, is “an ideology, a new closed worldview.... It menaces the openness and freedom secularization has produced.” Among other things, it especially menaces religious faith (and this is my contention, not explicitly expressed by Cox).

Cox wrote in the introduction to the 1983 edition of his book that the “sharp difference” between secularization and secularism was central to the entire argument of his book.

Why Affirm Secularization?

“Secularization,” according to Cox, “represents an authentic consequence of biblical faith.” Thus, “Rather than oppose it, the task of Christians should be to support and nourish it” (2013 ed., p. 22).

For those of us who place a high priority on religious freedom—and Cox (b. 1929) is an ordained Baptist minister, and true Baptists have always been advocates of religious freedom—secularization is good partly because as Cox says early in the Introduction of his book,

Pluralism and tolerance are the children of secularization. They represent a society’s unwillingness to enforce any particular world-view on its citizens (p. 3).

Thus, secularization is consistent with the principle of the separation of church and state, which I have often written about. (For example, see here.) As Brian Zahnd points out in his book Postcards from Babylon (2019),

in the American experiment the United States deliberately broke with the Christendom practice of claiming to be a Christian nation with a state church. It was America that pioneered the experiment of secular governance (p. 46).

In February 2010 I mentioned Cox in my blog article (see here) about Lesslie Newbigin, the outstanding British missionary who spent nearly forty years in India. In 1966 he wrote Honest Religion for Secular Man—and that was the most influential book (for me) that I read in 1967, my first full year in Japan.

As I wrote in that blog posting, Newbigin averred that Indian society changed, largely for the better, through the process of secularization. He gave these examples: “the abolition of untouchability of the dowry system, of temple prostitution, the spread of education and medical service, and so on” (p. 17).

And like Cox, he contended that secularization, which must be clearly distinguished from secularism, has roots in the Judeo-Christian faith.

Why Oppose Secularism?

The distinction between secularization and secularism, such as made by Cox and Newbigin (and me), is not widely recognized now. “Secularism” is the general term used for both—and Andrew Copson’s informative little book Secularism: A Very Short Introduction (2019) describes secularism in words very similar to how Cox explains secularization.

As an ideology, though, secularism is confined to “temporal” or “this-worldly” things, with emphasis on nature, reason, and science. For the most part, there is rejection of transcendence or anything that is not obviously a part of the visible world.

When secularism is truly an ism, it is a worldview that has no room for God, by whatever name God might be understood—or for Truth, Beauty, and Goodness.

While, certainly, I affirm the right of people to be secularists, if that is their free choice, still, I firmly, and sadly, believe that true secularists are missing much of great significance.

Recognizing the difference between secularization in the public square and secularism in one’s personal worldview, I staunchly affirm the former and oppose the latter—as I generally oppose all isms, including Christianism, which I plan to write about next month.

There Really Are "Alternative Facts"

This article was prompted by the death of Peter Berger a year ago. Berger was not only a world-renowned sociologist but also a notable lay Lutheran theologian. He is best known for The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge (1966), which he co-authored with Thomas Luckmann.

A Bit about Berger

Born in Vienna, Austria, in 1929, Berger immigrated with his family to the U.S. when he was 17. Although he attended a Lutheran seminary, he ended up becoming a sociologist rather than a minister. 

In 1981 Berger began teaching at Boston University and was the founding director of BU’s Institute on Culture, Religion, and World Affairs from 1985 until his retirement in 2009.

An early and vocal opponent of the “God is dead” movement in the 1960s, Berger was much appreciated by evangelical Christians, as is attested to in this Christianity Today article posted two days after his death on June 27, 2017.

A Bit about Plausibility Structures

According to Berger (and Luckmann), knowledge—and people’s conceptions/beliefs of what reality is—is socially constructed.

There is an objective and a subjective aspect to reality, and the society in which one lives, one’s culture or subculture, by necessity interprets/constructs objective reality subjectively. That interpretation/construction forms one’s plausibility structure.

Lesslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (1989)

“Plausible” is an adjective that means “seeming reasonable or probable.” Synonyms include such terms as “believable,” “credible,” “logical,” and “rational.” 

All interpretations of reality are not equally plausible, of course. There is, for example, pronounced differences between what is considered plausible by the dominant “white” culture in the U.S. and by the traditional culture of American Indians.

And more and more there seem to be pronounced differences in the plausibility structures of devoted Democrats and fervent Republicans in this country.

Because of the distinctly different plausibility structures, there really are “alternative facts,”—for “facts” are only what the society one belongs to agrees upon as being real or true.

Why Is This Important?

Consider a couple of examples.

Most Christians believe that God created the world and that at least some of the miracles as reported in the Bible, especially the Resurrection, are true. For those of us who grew up in the church and with belief in the message of the Bible, Creation and Resurrection are “facts” (although even among Christians now those facts are not interpreted in exactly the same way).

But for those with a completely “scientific worldview,” that is, with a belief system that only accepts that which can be proved by the scientific method, the creation of the universe by God and miracles cannot be factually true. Their plausibility structure rules out all “supranatural” causes.

Or, consider the matters of abortion and homosexual activity. If one’s plausibility structure holds it to be factually true that all abortion is murder of preborn humans and all homosexual activity as an abomination and a sin against God, then there must necessarily be ongoing opposition to abortion and such practices as same-sex marriage.

Consequently, those with that plausibility structure see Christians who are pro-choice (= pro-abortion in their understanding) and/or who affirm LGBT rights as having defective faith and perhaps as not being real Christians.

Moreover, with that worldview, there is no way one could vote for a political candidate who is pro-choice and/or who favors same-sex marriage. Such is just not plausible. (This matter is well described in this 7/21 Washington Post article.)

This article just scratches the surface of an extremely important topic, but perhaps it is becoming clear why it can truly be said that because of diversely different plausibility structures, there really are alternative facts.

Is Proclaiming Jesus’ Resurrection Political Incorrect?

A few weeks ago I posted a blog article about political correctness. For the most part I favor the effort to be politically correct, for in its best form political correctness shows empathic understanding of those who are often discriminated against or belittled.

There was some questioning of a more recent article, though, along this very line. There was no direct reference to my not being P.C., but it was implied that what I wrote about the origins of Christianity and of Islam was problematic.

From the beginning I knew that there would likely be some pushback, for what I wrote could be used as an excuse to criticize, discriminate against, or mistreat Muslims today. I tried to counter that possibility by writing what I did in the final paragraph.

Christians around the world have just celebrated Easter (except for those in the Orthodox tradition who will not celebrate Easter until May 1). If there was, in fact, something historical about the resurrection of Jesus, Easter is an event that decisively differentiates Christianity from other religions.

Many have understood Jesus’ resurrection much too literally, seeing it is some sort of miraculous resuscitation of his physical body. That is not the kind of resurrection I am writing about.

On the other hand, many liberal Christian interpretations emphasize that Jesus’ resurrection was mainly metaphorical or “psychological” rather than historical. That is, it is explained as the “resurrection” of the spirit of Jesus in the hearts and minds of his early followers.

John Shelby Spong, for example, contends that the Jesus’ resurrection took place in Galilee, where the disciples had fled after Jesus’ crucifixion, rather than in Jerusalem, where Jesus had been buried in Joseph’s tomb.

Liberals need some way to explain the resurrection so Christianity can be considered just one religion among many that are equally valid and valuable.

That is not the kind of resurrection I am writing about either.

Recently, I have written a review of a book about the life and thought of Lesslie Newbigin. In that process I looked again at some of his notable writings, especially The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (1989). Newbigin (1909-98), an Englishman, was one of the premier missionaries and missiologists of the 20^th century. (Several years ago I wrote a blog article in praise of Newbigin.)

Newbigin repeatedly used the words “public truth” in referring to the Christian message, and one of his smaller books is titled Truth to Tell: The Gospel as Public Truth (1991). The idea of public truth, of course, stands in stark contrast to the relativistic idea of truth in post-modernism and often in liberal Christianity as well.

He wrestles with the problem of truth not just from the standpoint of religious faith but also epistemologically, making repeated references to the significance of Michael Polanyi’s emphasis on “personal knowledge.”

In Truth to Tell, Newbigin avers, “To believe that the crucified Jesus rose from the dead, left an empty tomb, and regrouped his scatted disciples for their world mission can only be the result of a very radical change of mind indeed.”

He goes on to assert that “the simple truth is that the resurrection cannot be accommodated in any way of understanding the world except one of which it is the starting point” (p. 10-11).

Belief in the Resurrection should never lead to arrogance, condescension, or triumphalism. That belief should, however, lead faithful Christians to have confidence in the uniqueness of Jesus and to proclaim, boldly and lovingly, the significance of that pivotal event—even though some might consider it politically incorrect.

More about Newbigin

The posting on Feb. 1 was “In Praise of Lesslie Newbigin,” but there is much more I would like to share about this British missionary who spent nearly forty years in India. At this time I will just share two or three quotes about Newbigin’s ideas on secularization and social change in India.

In Honest Religion for Secular Man (1966), Newbigin writes about how Indian society has changed, largely for the better, through the process of secularization. He gives these examples: “the abolition of untouchability, of the dowry system, of temple prostitution, the spread of education and medical service, and so on” (p. 17). And he contends that secularization, which must be clearly distinguished from secularism, has roots in the Judeo-Christian faith.

Along with Harvey Cox (The Secular City, 1965), Newbigin sees secularization as being rooted in what both he and Cox refers to as the desacralizing or desacralization of nature. “The freedom to make revolutionary changes . . . came along with liberation from bondage to the sacral powers presiding over the natural world” (p. 33). The Old Testament clearly presents a worldview based on history rather than on nature, and that worldview is partly responsible for the rise of secularization.

In two previous posts, I wrote about the difference between cyclical and linear worldviews. Similarly, in Honest Religion Newbigin says that in India the traditional religious view is a “cyclical, non-historic, way of thinking” that seeks an escape from history. Such views are challenged by “the idea of God’s acts in fulfillment of his purpose—in other words, by a linear way of thinking about the world of change” (p. 50).

In direct connection with that assertion, Newbigin wrote in The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (1989), “For centuries Orthodox Hindus believed that the miserable condition of the outcastes or untouchable communities was the result of the sins of their previous birth [karma] and that it was therefore part of the cosmic order not to be interfered with. By common consent the preaching of missionaries among these communities was one of the major factors, if not the decisive factor, in bringing about the change of view which has led to legislation . . . to give them justice” (pp. 158-9).

It is widely known, of course, that many of the social changes in twentieth-century India were because of the work of Gandhi, a man for whom I have long held great admiration. It also has to be recognized that Gandhi was, and remained, a Hindu. But there is ample reason to believe that most of what he accomplished in terms of social justice for the people of India was in spite of his Hindu faith rather than because of it.

In Praise of Lesslie Newbigin

In the Jan. 8 posting on this blog, I made reference to the prevalent worldview of India. I do not know a lot about India, and, unfortunately, nothing from first-hand knowledge; I have long had the desire to go to India, but have not yet (and may never have) the opportunity to do so. But I have read rather extensively about India and the religions of India, and through the years I have been an appreciative reader of one who spent nearly four decades in India.

Lesslie Newbigin was born in northern England on December 8, 1909, so this past December there was some recognition in the media about the centennial observance of his birth. After completing his education at Cambridge University, he was ordained by the Church of Scotland in 1936 and sent as a missionary to Madras, now Chennai, the fifth largest city in India. In 1947 he became one of the first bishops in the newly formed Church of South India.

After serving a few years as the Executive Secretary of the International Missionary Council, Newbigin went back to India and continued to serve there until his retirement in 1974. But after returning to Great Britain, he continued an active life of teaching and writing. An article about him in the January 2010 issue of Christianity Today is titled, “The Missionary Who Wouldn’t Retire.” He had years of meaningful ministry back in England before his death in 1998.

I am particularly fond of Newbigin because of his book Honest Religion for Secular Man (1966), which I read during my first year in Japan, in late 1966 or early 1967. Since then I have profited from other books written by Newbigin, particularly The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (1989), which I have just finished for the second time.

In my Jan. 22 posting, I wrote about contextual theology. That is the subject of the twelfth chapter of Newbigin’s 1989 book, in which he writes, “True contextualization accords to the gospel its rightful primacy, its power to penetrate every culture and to speak within each culture, in its own speech and symbol, the word which is both No and Yes, both judgment and grace” (p. 152).

And then last fall, there was some discussion on this blog about religious pluralism. In that regard, I am in full agreement with Newbigin who contends that “we must reject the ideology of pluralism. We must reject the invitation to live in a society where everything is subjective and relative, a society which has abandoned the belief that truth can be known and has settled for a purely subjective view of truth” (p. 244 of the same book).

I have a list of the ten philosophers/theologians I have been most influenced by and most appreciative of. Newbigin is on that list, so I am happy to share this posting with you, in praise of Lesslie Newbigin.

Here is a 1996 picture of Newbigin: