:: In.a.Mirror.Dimly ::

A while back I was visiting a friend at a Christian college and he introduced me to a friend that I didn’t know was an atheist. We got to chatting about evil and the existence of a just and all-powerful God. I trotted out some philosophical stuff about God and evil that I’d learned in college and he became quiet. I asked him for his thoughts and he replied, “What you just said sounds like a vile, terrible God.”

Whoops.

When I look back at some of my worst moments in a theology, I keep noticing one particular trend. It seems there are times when I’ve ventured into hypothetical topics that are better dealt with in more concrete situations that arise.

A few years later my grandfather passed away and in my time of grief I turned to the book of Ecclesiastes and found comfort and hope in the midst of difficulty. Now, when I talk about evil or the misfortunes of this world, the theology that developed in the midst of those experiences holds real value. The hypothetical philosophical arguments aren’t quite as important after you’ve walked through something—or at least walking through something tells you whether or not such things are true.

Without going through a laundry list of topics I should and should not cover, I’d like to resolve this coming year to make a conscious effort to focus my theological energy on real situations that I have encountered, rather than playing the hypothetical theology game.

For instance, I have no business weighing in on whether or not homosexuals should be ordained as clergy until it comes up in my denomination or church, or among people I know. What difference does it make if I weigh in on what Episcopals in New Hampshire are doing? I know what I think of it all and I have opinions, but I feel that the amount of theologizing I’ve done about such topics does not match the significance of these matters for my own life, the lives of those around me, or the people whom I am called to serve.

It’s easy to be short on grace for hypothetical people, but when I encounter them in my real life, then we are dealing with names, faces, and feelings. It’s harder to give in to stereotypes, fears, and unqualified statements. I’ve experienced this myself when certain folks hear my name associated with the emerging church and immediately a bunch of folks in a discussion forum slap the “new age postmodern relativism heresy” label on myself and my book. If they’d taken the time to chat with me or to read my book they could have spent their energies on far more productive pursuits instead.

I hope in the coming year to focus my theological energy on the issues and opportunities that concern me personally. Both myself and others have made hurtful or generally useless comments when weighing in on a matters that really are none of our business. Here’s to a year of relevant and spiritually useful theology.