Uniting the Theological, Biblical, Mystical and Pastoral

Josep Benlliure Gil Life of Francis of Assisi

In a recent post (here) Collin Cornell shares some thoughts about how to teach Old Testament at seminary level. He notes a tendency in biblical studies to 'archaize' the bible through historical study. As he says, while this might, to some extent, undo the latent fundamentalisms and prejudices we bring to our use of the bible, archaizing the bible also has some deleterious effects. In particular, he notes that it enables the student to pull apart the biblical text but, as it were, not to put all the pieces back together.  The child-like pre-study use of the bible is transformed because historical study makes the text less sentimentally familiar, but the child-like whole is not replaced with a, potentially profound, adult use and understanding of the bible. There is something missing, and he suggests students have to be helped to love the text again through its study, not despite the study.  I think this is a common experience in theological studies in Australia. And it seems to me that what can also be missing, whether in my own study here at home, in the seminary, or in the local church, is the reunification of what we call biblical studies, systematic and historical theology, ascetical and mystical theology, and pastoral studies. Imagine learning to read scripture through the intelligent, questioning and faithful use of all the tools and wisdom Christian  theologia (in its fullest meaning) has to offer. I imagine being taught by Rowan Williams is, or being taught by Hans Urs von Balthasar was, such an experience. Being taught by John Gaden in the eighties was just such an experience for me.

Hans Urs von Balthasar

This kind of theologizing (and teaching) is not easy to do. Partly because to do it one needs familiarity with the texts as well as theology, historical and hermeneutical study, etc. All this takes experience and discipline. But it also requires us to be making connections between what is usually presented as discrete and separate(d) packages of thought, methods and purposes (Old Testament, New Testament, systematics, historical theology, pastoral studies, etc.). We also need to keep the creative juices going, and at some point those of us who read theology often end up just parroting what we read rather than doing something with what we read. And lastly, touching our depths, including the full panoply of human experiences and emotions, and then bringing this into our theological study and reflection (and praying), well, that is not easy and requires faith, courage and discipline, not to mention self-awareness.

1. I have hesitated to use the word 'spirituality' and instead opted for 'ascetical and mystical theology' but perhaps 'spiritual theology' would do. See here for helpful thoughts on 'spirituality' from Kim Fabricius.
2. For some critical warnings regarding the historical method in the study of Scripture see here.

Pastoral Care and Unbaptised Secular Psychology

There was a trend (that is still being played out) in the 70s and 80s toward the clergy re/training in the human sciences like psychology and social work, etc. For some it was a natural move given their liberal theological position that struggled to give faith, theology and even God any firm foundations other than as a cipher for justice and care for others. For some it also provided a little insurance against ecclesiastical caprice! This confusion between the human sciences and Christian theology and practice was evident in the training I received in pastoral care back in the mid-80s. A large part of our practice and reflection consisted of learning secular techniques of counselling and then constructing a theological justification for the use of these techniques. However, it was all a little too uncritical. (One of the ironies in this is that those who advocated the mostly uncritical use of the human sciences were often those most critical of the church's alleged uncritical baptism of political power in the time of Constantine and since.)

Now, the human sciences are an extremely valuable and pragmatic grab-bag of theory and practice that serve us all well. Good therapy, when you need it, is a great gift. However, to collapse Christian pastoral care into this grab-bag of psychology and medicine is a mistake. Pastoral care is more than psychology conducted in a Christian context or by Christians supplemented with prayer and Bible reading. (Although it can be this too.) When this collapse occurs the goals of Christian pastoral care and Enlightenment medicine and psychology become almost indistinguishable. For example, the tendency of the human sciences (and medicine) is to consider pain and suffering something to be avoided and eradicated. If it cannot be eradicated then the task is to help the client/patient cope with the pain. Well and good at one level, but we wouldn't want that to determine our response in toto. A specifically Christian response might be to spend some time on the person's relationship with God in the midst of the pain and suffering, and ask, "What practices might help this person remain faithful to God in the midst of this pain, and to know the continuing care of God in their life?" How might we help people cope with their experience of a providential God, their eschatological hope in the kingdom to come, and their current experience of confusion and alienation? The experience of pain and suffering can be a laboratory where we learn our need and renew our love for God in a more real manner. But that is a tough thing for a pastor to try these days because the aims of the secular human sciences and medicine have a virtual monopoly on the practice and goals of pastoral care.

The Christian Response to Suffering

"Suffering is presumed to have little of no meaning or purpose beyond the constant quest to eradicate it."(1)

There are lots of ways to respond, as a Christian, to suffering. To seek healing comes to mind, as does the eradication of the pain that is causing the suffering, or sitting in the dust with the those who suffer, prayer, lament, anointing, confession and absolution, and that's just for starters. The problem is that all these practices and their accompanying theologies share too much space in our heads with the Enlightenment's optimism and trust in humanity's ability to control 'nature' generally and overcome pain and suffering specifically. These days we have to fight pretty hard not to succumb to the now generally accepted principle that pain and suffering are to be avoided at all costs. (See quote above) In this view a return to health is understood in terms of the absence of pain and suffering for the autonomous individual. Once healed the autonomous individual can return to their individual life having the suffering and its cause eradicated from their life. In this view, we would have no need, at least in respect of that particular pain and its cause. There is, of course, something desirable and good in the eradication of pain and suffering. But as the sole way of looking at our human condition, or even the dominant way, it is mistaken because it misunderstands the human person and presents an utterly fraudulent hope. We are not autonomous individuals with healing returning us to a needless state, thank you very much. And second, we cannot live lives devoid of pain and suffering, and even if this particular instance of it can be eradicated, just wait, one day it won't be eradicated. One only has to look around us to see that the hope of avoiding pain is a vain one. (I'll be blogging later this week about the asceticism of life, or the asceticism that we should be teaching our children is an absolutely essential and unavoidable part of life.)

Jesus commands us to embrace the cross. Let's not make a straw figure of the crucified Christ as though he is commanding us to hate ourselves. Self-hate is not the only alternative to the unrequited hope of avoiding suffering. The call to carry the cross and follow Jesus is a call to actively suffer at times (witness, justice, etc), and not to fear the suffering that might come from bearing the pain of grief rather than burying it alive, and not to fear facing the truth of our psychopathologies and the pain such self-honesty will bring. But more than this, a specifically Christian response to suffering will also include those practices that help us remain faithful in the midst of suffering, and that help us continue to believe in the God who seems often absent. This last, so often overlooked, is an entirely appropriate response to suffering from those who claim to follow the forsaken, crucified Jesus. Jesus' cry of dereliction from the cross is, after all, a prayer, and is a prayer of faith, not disbelief. The lament, prominent in the Psalms and elsewhere in Scripture, is exactly one of those practices that can keep us faithful, but more on that later.



1. John Swinton, "Patience and Lament: Living Faithfully in the Presence of Suffering", in Francesca Arran Murphy and Philip Ziegler, The Providence of God. p. 276.