I was kindly provided with a copy of Reformed Dogmatics in Dialogue by Lexham Press, though all thoughts and opinions are my own.
Yesterday I was mistaken for a heroin addict. I was at the GP surgery when the receptionist carefully asked me whether the blood test I was requesting was because I needed a particular medicine named “Methotrexate.” At the time both my wife and I were confused as to why she was being so coy until we spoke with my Father-in-Law who suggested she had probably mixed up Methotrexate and Methodone—an addiction recovery drug. This is fairly common with words which sound similar, but sometimes the same thing happens with just one word which to different ears means different things.
In the case of this article, in which we’re discussing a book which discusses theology, it’s worth us taking time to make sure that we’re on the same page about what we mean when we say that word. I’ve met people who use the word theology sparingly or are even uncomfortable using it because of a perceived notion that theology is the domain of professors, academics, and on occasion, false teachers. I throw that last one in there because there seems to have been a rise on social media and in the wider world in the last decade or so of some atheists and anti-theists studying divinity or theology specifically in order to take down traditional orthodoxy. This is not theology.
When I say theology—and what should be assumed when anyone uses the word—is study and experience which draws us closer to God. Whether that be in our reading, in the painful extremes of the wilderness, or beholding the beauty of his majesty in the creation of the stars in the sky, theology helps us to carry out the first response of the Westminister Shorter Catechism.
Question. 1. What is the chief end of man?
Answer. Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him for ever.
Westminster Assembly, The Westminster Confession of Faith: Edinburgh Edition
This question takes the primary position in the Catechism precisely for this reason; because everything else beyond this is secondary. Theology, the study of God, should warrant a response from us which follows from that study. Imagine if you met a chemist who said, “I study chemistry, but I don’t believe any of it actually works,” or a mathematician who argued that nothing they studied was based in fact or had any bearing on real life. Study of any kind which doesn’t affect the student is worthless, but a study of God which does not bring the Christian to greater love, glorification, and enjoyment of him is wicked. The enemy believes, but that knowledge doesn't make him righteous.
I should say, for those who may be discouraged by that, that this change might not be immediate, in fact it often isn't, but we should expect our study of theology to draw us into a closer relationship and knowledge of our Lord, not simply leave us more knowledgable and puffed up.
Why then is Theology so Complicated?
All of this is to say that this book, Reformed Dogmatics in Dialogue, is not a simple or easily accessible book. It is what I have previously named “a Waterfall,”—a book which requires diligent harnessing to get the most out of it. Like a powerful waterfall with which one could mill grain or derive power, labour is required on the part of the reader either through the study of the source materials, a meditation on the subject matter and its ramifications or even one’s own writing to expound upon specific details which require further thought and perhaps even simplification. Why are these kinds of books necessary then? Well, Waterfalls purify water through filtration and oxidisation, drawing out nutrients and pouring them into the rivers, streams, or lakes below. Without such purification, entire ecosystems would collapse. Likewise, deep and serious thought on theological matters, which delves into what some may believe to be insignificant matters, purifies our thinking in a way that simplicity does not. In fact, deeper understanding begets better simplification. The best example I have of this is serving in my Church’s kids group, in which I’m asked about everything from animals in heaven to the nature of the Trinity. Sometimes prior simplifications and misunderstandings have to be overturned. The Trinity is a good example because most parents and Christians struggle to understand the triune nature of God themselves, and so explain it poorly when trying to make it understandable for children. A better understanding helps to explain even the most complex matters to the lowliest of our church family.
In one of the essays in this book, Sweeney and Vanhooozer speak to this necessary work;
Word and Spirit leave no mark upon the unconverted mind. The “natural man” may attain extensive knowledge of the Bible—its ancient Near Eastern backgrounds, its writers and their languages—but not the spiritual data it describes.
Even the saints, though, must work to understand the Bible rightly…We “must be pretty well versed in the Scripture [s], before [we] can see their scope and drift, their connection, harmony and agreement,” [Jonathan Edwards] explained. “A notional knowledge of divine things, must go before a spiritual.” For intimacy with God comes from time spent in reading the Bible, meditation, and prayer…God “gives us the gold” in providing us with Scripture but bequeaths it “in a mine that we might dig for it and get it in a way of our own industry.” This deepens our desire for it and draws us near to him. If biblical treasure were “thrown plentifully before every man’s face, and everyone could have it without any labor or industry, it would not be prized as it now is.”
Doug Sweeney and Kevin Vanhooozer, SCRIPTURE, Reformed Dogmatics in Dialogue: The Theology of Karl Barth and Jonathan Edwards, 2022, 27.
The placement of this quote so early on in the book stands in testament to the sincerity of the theologians represented throughout the book, though some are more academically inclined and others pastorally minded, each has written for the glory of God and the good of his people. While I have, in the past professed a certain amount of suspicion for Barth and his theology, this book was personally helpful for me in understanding what his place is in Church history, this came not through careful argumentation from the contributors, but instead through a consistent pattern of humble admiration expressed even when they themselves were in disagreement with him.
Talking
The best way I can explain this book is that it merges the format of a Spectrum book—i.e. inviting theologians with differing views to argue for those views and discuss them—with historical theology. While Edwards and Barth are not here to participate personally in the endeavour, they are both vicariously present on each and every page, faithfully represented by a group of writers who, like the two men, love our God and want to see him honoured. It’s clear to us in 2022 that each of these men had their own issues, this book is not an apologetic for the men and their lives, but instead takes a look at various particulars of theological thought, from Sin to Atonement, as well as more philosophical matters like politics, liberalism, and aesthetics. Whilst there are many who would not quote or endeavour to read these men’s work, this book is nonetheless important as an exploration of the impact each has had upon the generations since their works were written.
Last year I tried to read Desiring God by John Piper for the first time, which was a far harder task than I had thought it would be. Piper’s writing is winsome and beautiful in a way most aren’t, so it should have been easy, right? What I struggled with was that it seemed as though I’d heard almost every single sentence before. Piper’s effect on the church, on preaching, and on the delivery of Theology in so many churches, whether personally or through the passing of the baton of “Christian Hedonism” onto younger pastors, was so clear that I ended up having to put the book down and I haven’t picked it up since. Whilst I’m not suggesting that you’ll have the same experience reading Barth or Edwards, I think it likely that if you choose to read this book, you’ll find yourself having similar “aha” moments, finding the source of particular sayings, leanings, or theological stances in these pages.
Whatever your thoughts on either of these men, talking through their impact, and more importantly their theology, is an important task because it will help us to grasp the purpose of theology I mentioned earlier. This book, ultimately, is not about these men, but about the God they spent their lives imperfectly studying, and the theology they produced which has led countless numbers of people to understand, enjoy, and glorify God.
Grace and Peace,
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