Metaphorical Theology

One of my courses this semester is called "Contemporary Neo-Liberal Theologians," and we're reading books by numerous writers who could loosely be termed neo-liberal because of a certain set of characteristics their approaches have in common. For class, we are to write a synopsis and assessment of each book to help guide our classroom discussion. Here's mine, for our first book, entitled Metaphorical Theology, by Sallie McFague. If it looks a little dense or brief, it's because we're not allowed to spill onto a second page! Our professor wants clear, concise writing that substantially engages with the main argument of the text. Thus, I had to cram everything I needed to say into one single-spaced page! Anyway, here it is. The book was a mixed bag- some very valuable contributions to cutting through the idolatry and irrelevance of certain theological models we employ in "God-talk," but some utterly needless culture-driven rather than Scripturally-driven critiques of incarnational orthodoxy as well.

I'd love to hear some comments from anyone who's read McFague, or who knows her work well enough to judge whether my description and assessment of her project is fair.
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Rob Arner 9-10-07

Sally McFague’s groundbreaking Metaphorical Theology: Models of God in Religious Language (Fortress Press, 1982) advances a new paradigm for theological reflection that attempts to take seriously the challenges of contemporary culture while maintaining fidelity to what McFague sees as the “root metaphor” of the Christian faith: the relationship between God and human beings. Her primary concerns, informed by contemporary experience, are the temptations that exist in theological discourse to turn certain models and descriptive language into idols to be ontologically absolutized, and the sense of alienation and irrelevance experienced by certain groups (e.g. women, minorities, etc.) as a result of certain overused theological models. The thoughts in this book are thus focused on describing an alternative approach to theology that avoids the idolatry of employing one theological model to the exclusion of all others (since no single model is adequate to encompass the totality of the human experience of the divine), while at the same time reaching out to those whose experiences the dominant Christian tradition has ignored or suppressed. McFague wants her readers to understand that our religious language and models have concrete consequences, and should be chosen and appropriated with the utmost of care. In a “thought experiment” in metaphorical theology, she explores the implications of the model of “God as Friend” as a gender-neutral and nonhierarchical complement to traditional language of “God as Father.”

The solution she proposes is an approach she dubs “metaphorical theology,” which takes the imagery of models and metaphors as its guiding structure. McFague stresses that metaphors always have an “is and is not” quality to them. They are forms of language that help illuminate particular facets of the object or concept under scrutiny by comparing it to another better-known object or concept, but at the same time they are not to be identified in totality with the known comparative model. In line with this, McFague rejects the traditional incarnational understanding of Jesus in favor of a parabolic view; “Jesus as a parable of God” is the way she states it, instead of the Johanine description of Jesus as the God become flesh. Likewise the sacramental, symbolic perspective smacks of too much literalism for her tastes.

This approach to theology certainly has much to commend it to the postmodern context in which McFague self-identifies (2nd Preface, page xi). One of its major strengths is its ability to look behind the religious language we use in order to examine the consequences of the models we appropriate. Christian worship is enriched exponentially by employing a diversity of models for the divine-human relationship and the Church’s liturgical language ought to express the “unsearchable riches of Christ” (Eph. 3:8) by seeking out new and expressive models to complement the existing tradition. Additionally, it exposes and deconstructs idolatry that can result when we forget that our models are only models, and not ontological realities in and of themselves.

However McFague’s metaphorical theology endeavor is too beholden to modern sensibilities. Throughout her book, McFague reveals in various ways that the starting point of her endeavor to reform historical Christian orthodoxy is “the modern mentality,” and she decries incarnational Trinitarian worship of Jesus as “Jesusolatry” (18). The underlying assumption is that “the modern mentality” cannot abide Jesus-centered worship (regardless of its truth!), so it must be scrapped in favor of a model which caters to what is deemed culturally acceptable. In my judgment, these priorities are backwards.

The face of Jesus

I'm working on a post interacting with what I've read so far from Bainton's book. Hope to get that up tomorrow night. For now, I'll just leave you with this beautiful image of Christ, which happens to be one of the most ancient iconographical images we have. It's from St. Catherine's Monastery at the foot of Mt. Sinai (yes, the Mt. Sinai), and dates from as far back as the 5th century:

I ordered this icon from an Orthodox monastery in Minnesota that reproduces these images and emblazons them on a piece of wood. I love it- it's an immense aid to my own prayer life.

The theological richness of the image is what draws me back to it again and again. If you divide the image down the middle of the face, using the nose as the center point, you see what is in effect two images melded together to create this beautiful icon. On the left-hand side, Christ is making a blessing gesture with his hand. His face is serene, approachable, tender, caring. He's conveying the blessings of God to the viewer with a truly benevolent gaze. This side (I think) represents the richness of the mercy of Christ; forgiving, compassionate, and just plain loving. Yet on the viewer's right-hand side, Christ is holding a book, perhaps a lawbook, perhaps the gospels. His face is stern, regal, kinglike. His eyebrow is arched, his eye is dark and penetrating. This is Christ the Judge, Christ the Lawgiver, Christ the King. There is no tender mercy conveyed in this side of his face, only a demand for fierce loyalty and obedience to his teaching and example.

The brilliance of this image to me, and what makes it so compelling, is the combination of both sides of Christ, the judge and the friend, the king and the suffering servant, in one rich tapestry. The message is that both sides are necessary for a full picture of Jesus the Christ. Christ the King demanding obedience is only half the story, an incomplete picture of the Savior of the world who knows all too well what it is to be a frail human being just like us. Likewise, Christ the merciful embodiment of forgiveness rings empty and hollow without the regal amd omnipotent lawgiver. For the ancient monk who crafted this incredible image, both sides are necessary to arrive at a full understanding of the person of Jesus. Jesus is a king all right, legislating his law of love among all who would call him Lord; yet he is a merciful king, looking with compassion on those who ask him for forgiveness.

I love this icon! But more than that, I love the Lord who it depicts in all his robust fullness. I know I am not worthy of such a holy master, but I am equally confident in the mercy and compassion he has promised. Kyrie eleison! Lord, have mercy!

Newness

Here's your standard blog intro post. What's to say?

I'm just beginning the next phase of my life's journey right now. On Tuesday I begin my first semester as a Ph.D. student at the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia (http://www.ltsp.edu/). My major concentration is Contemporary Theology, and my minor is in Scriptural Theology. I hope to do my dissertation in the field of Christian Ethics, offering a gospel-centered critique of war and violence as well as an alternative proposal for how those who claim to follow Jesus ought to respond to evil without embracing the "dark side" of coercive violence. St. Paul put it best: "Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good!"

Along the way, I'll be posting things of a more personal nature, such as my daily struggle with type 1 diabetes, my work for my home congregation Doylestown Mennonite Church, the antics of my African Grey parrot Sam, interactions with the immense amount of theological reading and research I have to do for my degree, and the joy that I experience as a disciple of Jesus and redeemed child of God. Don't expect posts here every day, for I am notoriously undisciplined and shamefully, rather lazy, but I hope to be here weekly at the very least.

You (whoever you are!) are welcome to interact with me here via the comments feature, or via email or AIM (TrpsNThere is my screenname. Long and obscure story behind that one.).

As for where the present moment finds me, I've decided to get jump start on my research before classes begin on Tuesday. I've checked out Roland Bainton's 1960 monograph Christian Attitudes Toward War and Peace: A Historical Survey and Critical Re-evaluation as well as Aldolf von Harnack's study from 1905 Militia Christi: The Christian Religion and the Military in the First Three Centuries, two classic studies that explore the early church's attitudes toward war and peace. I was referred to them by a really excellent book by Jean-Michel Hornus, It is Not Lawful for Me to Fight: Early Christian Attitudes Toward War, Violence, and the State.

As I discovered while doing research for my master's thesis, the official teaching of the Christian Church in the first three centuries involved a complete rejection of violence in all its forms as acceptable options for faithful Christian disciples. From abortion and infanticide, to capital punishment, gladiatorial combat, and particularly the violence of military service, all forms of the destruction of human life were rejected as inconsistent with the gospel of Jesus. The closest modern parallel is that which has been called the "Seamless Garment of Life" approach (see here for some basics and background on it: http://www.wau.org/about/authors/scullion1.html). In future posts, I hope to explore the implications and meaning of such a consistently pro-life ethic, grounded firmly as it is in the revelation of God to humanity in Jesus Christ.

Well, that's all for now. Hopefully that should give ya'll a flavor of what this blog will be all about. I'm going out to dinner now with Mom, my brother and sister-in-law, and my beautiful wife Lori to celebrate my 27th birthday tonight. The grace of Jesus Christ be with you all. :)