Transforming Christian Theology: For Church and Society

11. Theology as Telling the Story

79 11. Theology as Telling the Story M odern assumptions are clearly part of what’s getting in the way of developing vibrant theologies for our day. Remember: in the modern paradigm, one’s beliefs must fit together into a system of propositions—a system that builds up from indubitable foundations through logical inferences to conclusions that should be compelling for all rational agents. “Modern” theological systems are like the skyscrapers in New York City: their girders are driven deep down into immovable bedrock; their structures are constructed according to scientific principles of engineering that ensure structural integrity; and they rise, story upon story, to objectively measurable heights. As we saw, postmodern talk about belief works very differently. It’s much more simple, and personally more demanding: we begin by trying to tell our story. As theologians like Hans Frei and James McClendon have emphasized, we recite a narrative—in this case, a narrative of how God’s call and action have intersected with our own lives. Brian McLaren puts it beautifully: Rather than trying to capture timeless truth in objective statements systematized in analytical outlines and recorded in books and institutionalized in schools and denominations, narrative theology embraces, preserves, and reflects on the stories of people and communities involved in the romance of God.1 I want God to be at the center of my life, and I believe that God’s will and nature are powerfully visible through Jesus Christ. Language about God will therefore pop up frequently as I recite (to myself and others) the ever-evolving story of my life. Once the problematic modern assumptions are off the table, why should I be afraid of this fact? Is it somehow embarrassing that I can’t tell my life history without using the words God, grace, 80 | Transforming Christian Theology resurrection, redemption, and eschatological hope? I would rather confront the hidden standards of political correctness that are causing the embarrassment than give up speaking about God. Some such “PC” standards must be at work, right? Why else would so many of my fellow mainline Christians have become so silent about their beliefs? (One of my first church memories is the gusto with which the adults in my Presbyterian church used to sing the refrain, “I love to tell the story, ’twill be my theme in glory, to tell the old, old story of Jesus and his love.”) Some readers have interpreted the terms story and narrative to mean “fiction.” When I ask you to start doing theology by learning to tell your own story with and before God, I am not asking you to believe that it is false! Doing theology means consciously reflecting about your real life as it has become intertwined with a real God. The trouble is that people are really good at repeating statements about God—usually statements they’ve learned in church—but they’re not as good at linking these statements richly and deeply to their own lives. So just to be clear: the emphasis on storytelling in this chapter is not meant to encourage you to talk as if there were a God (while all the time really knowing that there isn’t). Instead, it’s the first step toward making statements about God that you really believe and that really do something in the world. Telling Theological Stories at the Personal Level Telling our personal stories should be the easiest of all, so I start here. Clearly, autobiography is the property neither of conservatives nor of liberals . Giving an account of God’s work in one’s life as one understands it is called giving a testimony. Like giving testimony in court, we recount what we have seen and experienced. That’s not all theology is, but it’s a great place to begin. There is a long and rich tradition of “telling one’s story” within most Christian denominations, including most of the mainline traditions. In the conservative evangelical world that first formed me as a Christian, we were asked to give our testimony so often that it became a highly formed and nuanced narrative, adaptable to multiple audiences. As a summer missionary in Europe during college, I learned to give my testimony in halting German to small groups of Austrian teenagers who had come to play soccer with us on their local soccer field (or, more accurately, who had just wiped us off 11. Theology...