For thirty years, I had the privilege of teaching theology courses. “John Wesley’s Theology Today” and “United Methodist Theology” were the ones I taught most frequently. In both of them, and in other courses as well, one of my main emphases was that theology is always a response to something other than itself. And that one of the requisite acts in studying theology is to ask, “What is this theological statement responding to?” To see that helps us to interpret theology within the larger context from which it emerged.
This phenomenon is playing out in spades in our day as people across the theological spectrum are making theological responses to all sorts of things. Even when we disagree theologically about them, we often discover that we are “doing theology” out of shared concerns. To recognize this is important; if nothing else it calms the waters of disagreement so that a more irenic debate can occur. And when that happens, godly compromises occur that do not happen when contentiousness reigns.
In the past few days, I have experienced two confirmations. The first is ecclesial, as the current United Methodist Church’s General Conference currently going on in Charlotte is conducting its business in a spirit far more charitable than on previous occasions. Responsive theology is clearly directing things so far.
The second confirmation comes from a book I came upon, ‘Response Theology’ written in 2022 by John T. James. [1] Enroute to his convictions, he notes that the theology which will move us forward into Christian maturity is rooted in love, creating attitudes and actions which are more gracious, generous, and healing that mean-spirited theology can ever be.
My purpose in this post is neither to comment on the UMC General Conference (that would be premature since it’s not over) nor to offer a review of James’ book. Rather, I want to expand on my longstanding conviction that theology is always a response to something. I note these things.
First, the significance of response theology. I simply mean that it’s better than reactionary theology. Response theology has a mindfulness that knee-jerk impulsiveness does not have. Response theology is careful to do its homework, which in-and-of-itself means it advances more slowly, which is usually a good thing. Response theology is interdisciplinary, in ways that reactionary theology is not. It moves ahead with a deliberateness and depth that reactionary theology lacks.
Second, the structure that emerges in response theology. E. Stanley Jones called it the Round Table. [2] The roundness symbolizes that it is God’s table. Everyone there is a guest, not a host. The Round Table is a place of learning, not argument—a gathering in which each participant offers their best. The Round Table is a means of grace, an expression of holy conferencing—a forum, not a fight. Respect, not judgmentalism prevails.
Third, the surprises in response theology. This point emerges from the previous one. When finding and following God’s will (corporate discernment) is the intention, it is watered by the conviction that the Holy Spirit will intervene, guiding us in ways we would never have imagined in our partisan camps and silos. Response theology takes its cue, not from the moment, but from the witness of history—namely, one of things that’s always said when God moves among us is, “Well, I was not expecting that.” Response theology is open and receptive in ways reactionary theology is not.
Fourth, the sentiment in response theology. Simply put, it aims to do the will of God on earth as it is in heaven. Faithfulness, not winning, is its motivation. And it is the kind of faithfulness that recognizes the incomplete, imperfect, and evolutionary nature of the theological task. Response theology looks for bridges (new beginnings) not walls (“pure church” certainties), knowing that even when we leave the Round Table, we will be back again as God’s light from many lamps further illuminates our journey.
For these kinds of reasons, I hold to my conviction that theology is always a response, or at least good theology is. It’s why I choose to hang out with responsive theologians. They offer us ways forward in this time of new awakening, and from the One River, they invite us to drink Living Water from many wells. [3]
[1] John T. James, ‘Response Theology’ (WestBow Press, 2022).
[2] E. Stanley Jones, ‘Christ at the Round Table’ (Abingdon Press, 1928).
[3] The concluding metaphor comes from Matthew Fox, himself a responsive theologian, and his book, ‘One River, Many Wells.’ (Tarcher/Penguin, 2000).
Oboedire 