Practicology
July 17, 2009, posted by Helen, under The Practicing Church | | 21 Comments
Is it just me, or are there just too many “–ologies” out there? Theology, ecclesiology, eschatology—oh, and there are other multi-syllabic terminologies, too, like orthodoxy, orthopraxy, hermeneutics, rhamazeutics, and salmonellics. (If you can’t tell where I stopped using actual words and started poking fun—I just proved my point.)
It’s all a bit much for me. I never went to seminary—mainly because I never actually intended to be a pastor. I learned to study the Scriptures by paying attention in church, and my degree is in music—which means I can sing you the four spiritual laws, the nine gifts of the Spirit, the seven motive gifts, Psalm 23, and “Jesus wept.” (I could also probably list all 66 books of the Bible in order, if only I could remember how the song goes.)
That said, and taking my tongue out of my cheek—I guess I have always been geared toward a practical understanding of Scripture, and the practical application of it, both in myself and in others. I am academic by nature, so I think I’d do well enough in seminary; but at the same time, I have always believed that God intended the Scriptures for all of us, and I am very skeptical of scholarly types who make others feel like they are unable to “get” the Bible without their special assistance. (I guess that’s why I tend to dislike too many “-ology” words, because they tend to place knowledge out of reach.)
Truth is, I’m not as impressed by how much someone knows about the Bible as I am whether someone is living out what they know. I’ve known too many people who can spout platitudes and dissect Scripture, but can’t love their kids. And so I’m a pragmatist in these matters—I’m interested in a working knowledge of the Scriptures, and I’m always looking for what works.
Actually, it’s this practical approach that has ultimately drawn me down this path, away from the institutional forms of faith. My concerns with institutional Christianity are far more about practical issues than doctrinal ones. I have enough history with the institution to see that for the most part, it isn’t really working—and where it may have gotten us by in days past, it’s rapidly losing its traction in the world. And I have enough understanding of the Bible to know that much of how the institution operates really isn’t even in the Bible. So if it’s not working, and it isn’t mandated by Scripture—why in the world are we holding on to it? There’s got to be a simpler, more practical way. This is what fuels my current journey.
I guess what I’m saying by this is that most of my foundational beliefs in God and the Bible (i.e., my theology) have not been changed all that much by my leaving old forms behind. This may actually be part of why I so often feel I don’t belong in any “subset” or “club” right now where Christianity is concerned. Evangelicals tend to treat me as a backslider because of my out-of-the-box approach (not because they actually examine my theology). And I have to admit that I still feel like an oddball in the more emergent camps because I still lean conservative, both in my doctrine and in my politics.
What has changed, though, is the way I live out these beliefs—how I frame them in my life. Here are some of the changes that have happened with me:
- My beliefs do not define me anymore. My theology parallels common charismatic evangelical doctrine, but I don’t label myself as an “evangelical.” I am a Christian, and this means I am in fellowship with other Christians. It’s as simple as that. And my faith is not as much about what I believe, but Whom I believe.
- I hold my theological beliefs loosely, and can entertain other views without being threatened by them. I have learned a great deal by interacting with people who don’t see the world the same way I do. I can articulate my beliefs and why I believe them, but I embrace the mystery of God, knowing I don’t have this all figured out. I trust the Holy Spirit to guide me into all truth—not the National Association of Evangelicals.
- I am more interested in people than I am in theology or orthodoxy. It’s more important to me that I form honest, life-giving relationships with people for whom Christ died, than it is that I use relationships as a bait-and-switch to get people to believe what I believe. I have completely abandoned sales-pitch evangelism. (By the way—I think God is more interested in people than theology as well.
So if there’s an “-ology” I’d coin to describe all this…I’d want it to be “practicology”—the study of putting our faith into practice. A faith that works itself out in life. I’m already bent that way, but this journey has only intensified that conviction in my life.
Jeff’s article was originally posted here.
First, an admission: I am a lover of -ologies.
Upon that admission, another must follow immediately: In the academy (I’m on my 3rd graduate degree :-), I’m a bit of an outsider and I think you’ve named the reason:
Second to ecclesiology, I think practicology is my favorite. Thanks for naming and defining it.
““practicology”—the study of putting our faith into practice”
Putting them together? That’s the fun part.
“Putting them together? That’s the fun part.”
Practicclesiology? :)
Thanks, Laura.
“Practicclesiology”
I like it. I’m putting that in the blog-fodder. :-)
[...] RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!Over on The Practicing Church, Jeff McQuilkin coins the term “practicology” in response to the overabundance of academic theology that rarely if ever gets out of the [...]
[...] of blogs. It was started by Jeff (at “The Practicing Church”) in his post called “Practicology.” After reviewing the many “-ologies” which various groups espouse or emphasize, [...]
[...] you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!In a response to the dialogue between Jeff McQuilkin and me, Alan Knox raises a crucial –and possibly the crucial–issue in the alleged [...]
Most of the 12 disciples of Jesus had no good scholarly education, I’m sure some of them couldn’t even read. And yet, looking at what they accomplished…
I have to admit here, that I’m not interested in -ologies any more. The Good News has to be simple enough for simple people, otherwise something is wrong. I read so many very complicated books about Bible issues, but not one of them worked. But these disciples went around, healed the sick, told them about Jesus, and faith spread.
Can it be that some of us (including me) are to learned to be of any use spiritually?
gecko,
Scholarly education is not required, but neither is it necessarily a hindrance. After all, the Apostle Paul, who certainly did much to spread the gospel, was very well educated. The hindrance is heart: distractions of the heart happen regardless of education (though it may be that those of us in the “learned” category have more distractions).
Hi Laura,
sorry for not answering sooner, I was on holiday.
I agree with you completely. I just think that the gospel has to be so easy that everybody can understand it and live accordingly. In my experience some very well learned folks have written some very complicate books of how to pray, heal, evangelize, … And I’m sure that the not well educated folks don’t understand these complicated theories. And I don’t think that’s it then. Probably it’s easier to find a complicated theory for why something is not working than just admitting that something must have been wrong; I don’t know. And I just don’t understand why in some churches one has to do several schoolings until they let you serve and help.
Although all these -ologies may be interesting, I’m sure they are not the core of Christianity or of “otherlyness”
gecko,
No worries. Hope you had a fine time.
I agree that the gospel is simple enough that everyone can understand it. Those who complicate it should be ashamed. On the other hand, there is more to biblical truth than the gospel and, since God had it written down, it is of value. Even so, theologians sometimes overly complicate the complex stuff, burying ideas under jargon, when they should be taking those complicated issues and making them as clear as possible. This is what good theologians try to do.
As to whether ministers should be required to have formal seminary training, that is a hot potato I’m not willing to take up. It’s just too complex. :-)
Hi Laura,
again I agree with you. I just don’t think that there are so many complicated issues as there seem to be. And although I often got a new point of view or a new insight from some -ologies, I extremely dislike the exclusiveness or “insider-clubs” some people are making out of them. -ologies are dangerous because they often are the reason for separation or quarrels. I know that it’s some people who do this, not the “founder” of these -ologies, but the result is still ambiguous.
With serving and helping I didn’t think of people in leadership, on stage or helping spiritually. I thought of people playing an instrument, working in the café or in the bookshop, cleaning the building…, not the leaders. Is it really necessary to do a course to bake a cake in the right attitude? Maybe this sounds a bit cynical, but I hope you get the meaning.
gecko,
I get your meaning. Now, as I said in the first post, I love -ologies; taught correctly, they are beautiful pictures of our great God. On the other hand, aside from teaching ministries, most who serve in the church do not need formal theological education. I do think each local church should teach its people well, but well means equipping for service in church and as church in the world–you don’t need -ologies for that.
Beautiful Pictures of our great God – that’s an expression I like. Beautifully put.
Thanks. Changing the general perception of theology has been one of my passions.
I can see. To me -ologies can be a synonym of theories. They usually challenge my brains, but don’t change my heart. I came to a point, where I had to see that I hid behind new theories and their discussion. I couldn’t perceive any more what I really wanted or felt, because the discussion and thoughts of a new theory were so loud. Now, as I put all those books away, I feel more like being myself again. And in the time I used earlier for reading, thinking about and discussing, I can now help others (small things, but they matter). Probably there have to be both – theory and practice. And as I had so much theory before, I have to catch up now.
I remember sitting in many a class during my MDiv and ThM, wondering why the tiny details were of such importance to some of my fellow students. I still wonder such things. Now, to be certain, some of the details are important, but they are never important to the detriment of practice. Our knowledge of God is supposed to inform a life of loving obedience and fellowship, not a perpetual stay in the library.
One might say that as a seminarian, I’ve been quite an odd duck, a theologian hanging out with the Christian Ed and Spiritual Formation types. Didn’t quite fit in either place, but I’d rather offer theological insights to folks on the front line than sit and sip coffee with nit pickers. (Sounds a bit harsh, I know, but alas, so it is.)
The best thing I did was read a bit of Barth as I prepped my thesis. I was astounded at the devotional nature of his theology. It opened my eyes.
I know this – it’s hilarious. You open a new book, and it reveals a new insight to you. Puzzle pieces fall into place and you cannot stop reading because everything just fits. I’ve been there, too, and I hope to experience this a few more times. But this was only the case with every tenth book or so. And to be honest, some of the books I simply didn’t understand. They were so far away from my life, I was asking myself what kind of problems were invented there…
But I still continued reading, even if only out of fear to miss something. Now, being a mother of three small children, I don’t have the time to read nor the time to digest what I read. And I began to dislike those who always have a good advice according to a certain -ology or theory, but never gave me a hand.
Being overworked I decided to stop reading theories. I read only the Bible and was astonished how simple and direct it is. I decided to change into somebody who gives a hand, not only theories. It was easier than I thought, it feels like having arrived in real life, doing and helping others do the nitty gritty things of everyday life, praying and then really seeing things changed, asking and getting answers.
And I began to be thankful for theory-people again, because they read all the books and give me short versions or those insights I need in this moment. I mean those theory-people with a wide background, some patience and experience. Not those – like I was – supersmart and always being on the track of something “big”.
This is why I had to get some distance between -ologies and me. I hope I didn’t bore you.
gecko,
Not bored at all. Though my “real life” is quite a bit different–single, no kids–the multitude of theological theories–especially the apparently unnecessary complexity (I hope I never hear the word “nuanced” in a sentence again…ug) is right next to useless most of the time. The best thing I learned, and I can’t remember from whom, is that the theories of theology are like the foundation of a house. They are absolutely critical, but they re not the point. The house–rather the family living there–is the point.
Hi Laura,
Nice picture! Not to forget that there are different houses. As long as quality standards (statics, material, craftmanship) are good, it doesn’t matter how the house looks (color, style, size, location). That’s what makes life, and faith life, interesting. Our God is so big and has so many aspects!
gecko, nice take on the metaphor. Agreed!
[...] Practicology:Jeff McQuilkin questions the usefulness of -ologies and coins the term, “practicology,” in response. [...]