A High View of Scripture?

Embracing the Multilateral World of Theology

In the United States, Christian theology often passes as a guarded castle that grants access only to its loyalists. And…because I love theology…this makes me sad. My sadness comes from the conviction that theology, as a study of the nature and things of God, is supposed to impart to its audience the posture of curiosity, and, unfortunately, it tends to be the curious who are not allowed to cross the drawbridge into the castle, or they are kicked out of the kingdom once expressing curiosity from within.

In some circles, theology is designed to impart certainty and ramp up extra security around itself in order to spot and restrain those unauthorized by its gatekeepers. And, these gatekeepers, under the guise of Scriptural support (a.k.a. “a high view of Scripture”), are the ones erecting theology as a castle meant to withstand—and to look down from—instead of an inclusive gym in which we find equipment of different difficulties by which we can all perspire.

My early efforts to grow theologically found me in some castles, chile, ones that would herald their system of theology as superior. I inherited this impulse and cherished it for a while because, quite honestly, for people like me, there are very few things more gratifying than feeling like you’re mostly correct about God. The particular castles of theology I found myself in were part of the Kingdoms of Neo-Calvinism and theological conservatism.

I pledged my loyalty to this way of theology, especially in my “Neo-Calvinist” cage-stage. I felt so confident in my soteriology (view of salvation), ecclesiology (beliefs on church structure and life), and modeling of “biblical evangelism,” that I concealed myself from the Way of Life that Scripture was inviting me into. It didn’t matter, though, because I was convinced it was only “a high view of Scripture” that would produce in me a faithful life… not faithful living. Orthodoxy leads to orthopraxy is what I’d always been told (Right belief leads to right practice), but, for me at least, that was untrue on so many levels.

In the middle of my loyalty to the empire of conservative theology, I was genuinely in my Word and prayer every day trying to encounter the Almighty. The problem is that I wasn’t aware that this exclusive equipment I was using set me up for failure because it relied too heavily upon building a transformed life via knowledge acquisition and making enemies out of men and women who didn’t see the Bible the same way I did. This equipment taught me to look for God in Scripture but neglected to show me how to see God through my battered neighbor. So, here I was with a (presumably) theologically buff chest, yet, spiritual formation-wise, I had scrawny legs.

Of course, “Neo-Calvinism” and theological conservativism placed value on helping others in Jesus’ name, but only inasmuch the help wasn’t misunderstood as the means by which we’re saved. This was fine with me until I realized that to hold this conviction meant to avoid ministers and ministries whose central motivations were to “let [their] light shine,” demonstrating their theology by sharing their lives with those whom our country (and others) has oppressed.

This theological snobbery made it imperative that I only listen to voices that agreed with all of my values and beliefs. But, after examining my personal library and perusing the apps on my phone of churches whose pastors’ sermons I would listen to, I came to a staggering realization: I only read and listened to white men… for years.

I was okay with it, though, because many of them shared the unilateral view of the Bible that I had: Irrefutable. Inerrant. Infallible. Having my Biblical bias confirmed by the most powerful group of people in the U.S. made me feel like I was doing something right. It also settled me into the idea that the Bible was a book that affirmed the interpretations of believers with the highest seats in society. Then… I encountered the Psalms. I read stories in the Bible that contained gruesome scenes of a vulnerable people that knew enslavement for hundreds of years. I experienced the Bible as a work of “minority literature” showing different experiences in different time periods where God spoke to his Beloved people, welcoming them all from various regions, over and again.

This meant that the Bible contained a broad enough storyline that amplified the voices of people from dissimilar (dare I say it) intersections. Theologians in the castle don’t like this, though, because it rubs against the notion that the interpretive decisions they make are authoritative, that they can somehow separate their understanding of God from their status in society. It was crushing when I realized I did the same.

So… I got curious. I didn’t burn the books I had; I just bought new ones. I listened to sermons across denominations and genders, took Church History courses, and I learned that God’s Word really does have the power to transform us as individuals and groups when we don’t take it upon ourselves to minimize the theological perspectives we disagree with by immediately labeling them as a low view of Scripture.

The high view/low view of Scripture separation has agendas tied to it; I think it also has to do with genuine misunderstanding.

Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

For instance, one of the theological streams I would never allow into the castle was Liberation Theology. I was convinced that Liberationists (Black, Latino, and other liberation theology streams) hated the Bible because they utilized disciplines like sociology, anthropology, and political discourse to inform their understanding of God’s commitment to save and deliver. This felt like blasphemy to me. It didn’t trust the counsel of the Bible as sufficient (a low view of Scripture) to teach us how to live rightly with one another.

Maybe I’ll make this a series to write about why I don’t think this is the case anymore. But, a concise word that has helped me recognize my misunderstandings with Liberation Theologies is from Orlando Costas:

“Liberation theology challenges those who insist on the priority and normativeness of Scripture in theology and do not make a similar insistence on personal and social transformation as part of the proclamation and teaching of the Word. What is the value of a high view of the Bible if it does not lead to transformed lives, renewed communities, and liberated institutions?”

Orlando E. Costas, Christ Outside the Gate: Mission Beyond Christendom, pg. 131

“What is the value of a high view of the Bible if it does not lead to transformed lives, renewed communities, and liberated institutions?” The Kingdoms of Neo-Calvinism and Conservative Theology, during my residence between their walls, were so wrapped up in an eschatology (a view of end-times) that was too metaphysical (non-material-or far off from our present reality). They recognized the evils of our day and claimed that to remediate them we had to look forward to a future Day where God makes everything right, to tell as many people as we could about this Day, and to do our best as individuals to stay away from lust and greed by trusting Jesus as our personal Savior.

As great as those things are, we can still do them and ignore those around us who suffer. We must use other equipment in this inclusive gym of theology whose tools are multilateral if we are to experience the saving grace of God in Jesus Christ personally and communally. We can’t just double down on our perspectives and call them doctrinal fidelity in order to silence the voices of the “others.”

Obviously, there are rules. An inclusive gym welcomes anyone to participate in its membership benefits as long as we are treating people fairly. As soon as someone slams a dumbbell over another’s head, consequences ensue. Theology always fields the possibility of being wielded for evil, even the good theologies. Wisdom and community help us discern these things.

Sometimes the equipment in the gym is outdated or proven unhelpful, so we must do away with it. Hermeneutics is our equipment for interpreting the Bible; they always need to be examined for the purpose of identifying where we are growing in love for God and our neighbor, and where we are not. Some hermeneutics birth harmful theologies that need to be tossed out altogether. It’s not a user error; it’s a program error.

So, when we find ourselves caught in-between being a castle theologian or a gym member, it’s crucial that we go to God for help and for abundant love to listen to those that might challenge us (especially from the marginalized) and to respect those who are different from us. This is, without a doubt, harder for those in respected positions and who have seats of great influence. Young and Curious Theology aims to rest in the love of a God who has space for anyone to sweat in the gym of theology, and it also invites us to invest in a view of the Bible that has us looking outward as much as it has us looking upward and inward. Let’s focus on the voices that promote faith in Jesus and work toward justice and healing in our world.

Love, y’all. :)