Over the past weeks, I've attempted to make a case for my position on spiritual warfare -- particularly for recovering a theology of "the principalities and powers" and therefore articulating a theology of revolt. So, let me summarize that argument and make a few observations.
First, a summary:
Sure, lots of folks are uneasy with this language. And they have good right. It can appear reactionary. That is, we've historically abandoned areas of Christian thought and language that have been contaminated by toxic elements in Christianity. For example, we have, as I said, abandoned the language of spiritual warfare because we've seen that language tragically misused and abused. But rather than thumping our Bibles to continually point out that Christ's victory over the satan was won on the cross, we got timid and evacuated this language altogether. And I think this has damaged theology as it effectively separated liberals from Jesus and his Kingdom proclamation. Dislocated from Jesus we've no robustly biblical ways to unpack our central confession that "God is love". Unplugged from Jesus we defaulted to liberal humanism. Not a bad move, but the confession "God is love" was thinned and hollowed out to become an insipid vision of liberal tolerance rather than a robust conflict against the forces of dehumanization in the world and in our own hearts.
Okay, with all that as a summary of where we've been in this wild ride, let me offer some final reflections.
First, liberal theologians are too focus on epistemology. We're too wrapped up in the arguments about modernity and post-modernity. Which means we're too wrapped up in Christian metaphysics. Sure, doubt can be a theological and moral source, but it will only go so far down the Christian path. You can give up God for Lent only so often before the novelty wears off and you just start giving up Lent completely. Doubt is a powerful moral and theological resource that cannot be abandoned, but doubt will struggle to sustain Christian practice and witness throughout the lifespan. At the very least, doubt has failed to do this for me. I've needed something else, some positive vision to fight for. I think recovering the language of spiritual warfare can help with this.
Second, liberal theologians need to recover the language of sin. We've become so worried about judging people -- yet another form of the reaction to toxic Christianity -- that we've evacuated the language of sin. If the language of sin is used at all it is usually reserved for structural sin, systemic injustice (a la Niebuhr, loved and admired by no less than President Obama). But this leaves us fairly well mute when it comes to the personal realm, where we experience addiction, infidelity, lust, vanity, and selfishness. This means that we've tended to have a great deal to say (usually in Facebook rants) about, say, famines in Africa, but less about the moral struggles of day to day living. I think this is a huge hole in theology. And I think recovering the language of spiritual warfare can help with this.
Finally, theology needs to connect better with the poor, uneducated and marginalized. For a variety of reasons the language of spiritual warfare is the idiom of disenfranchised groups. In working with poor and prison populations I've had to learn to talk like a Pentecostal. To be sure, I unpack this language in other ways (a la Wink and Stringfellow). Regardless, if we want to communicate with the poor and marginalized (who also tend to be people of color) we will need to learn to sound a bit more charismatic. We may even -- gulp -- have to raise our hands during a worship service.
Basically, the language of theology is too white, male and European. I'd recommend less talk about Derrida, Lacan, and Heidegger and more talk about the devil and the Holy Ghost.
And, obviously, I think the language of spiritual warfare can help with this.
First, a summary:
God is love.Basically, I'm arguing that any theology of revolt must be grounded in the biblical confession that "God is love". Of course, this confession makes the "Narratives of the Vulnerable God" more accessible, even as it's necessary to let go of Greek notions about divine power. (Sorry, but a Jesus that looks like Superman just isn't a biblical Jesus.) Therefore, "spiritual warfare" language is necessary for any theology of revolt.
This means that God is weak in the world, not exerting top down power over the world (there's no such thing as omnipotence, and it's a good thing, too).
Thus, love exists among a plurality of antagonistic powers, forces of violence and dehumanization, forces we'd call "satanic" in that they are manifestations of anti-love (and, thus, in the Christian imagination anti-Christ).
Creating outposts of love in the world -- making the Kingdom of God come to earth as it is in heaven -- thus involves constant, daily struggle, a spiritual battle and war that is both moral and political, social and individual.
And critical to keep in mind in all this is that this battle and war is fought with love and for love. Jesus "wins" a "victory" over satan on the cross. Jesus does battle with satan at Golgotha. That is the paradigmatic example of spiritual warfare.
And if that vision has been bastardized in the Christian witness, with "warfare" looking like power and dominion rather than self-giving and weakness, then that is no reason to abandon the metaphor of spiritual warfare but cause to reclaim its biblical roots. Let's not abandon the language of spiritual warfare to heretics.
Sure, lots of folks are uneasy with this language. And they have good right. It can appear reactionary. That is, we've historically abandoned areas of Christian thought and language that have been contaminated by toxic elements in Christianity. For example, we have, as I said, abandoned the language of spiritual warfare because we've seen that language tragically misused and abused. But rather than thumping our Bibles to continually point out that Christ's victory over the satan was won on the cross, we got timid and evacuated this language altogether. And I think this has damaged theology as it effectively separated liberals from Jesus and his Kingdom proclamation. Dislocated from Jesus we've no robustly biblical ways to unpack our central confession that "God is love". Unplugged from Jesus we defaulted to liberal humanism. Not a bad move, but the confession "God is love" was thinned and hollowed out to become an insipid vision of liberal tolerance rather than a robust conflict against the forces of dehumanization in the world and in our own hearts.
Okay, with all that as a summary of where we've been in this wild ride, let me offer some final reflections.
First, liberal theologians are too focus on epistemology. We're too wrapped up in the arguments about modernity and post-modernity. Which means we're too wrapped up in Christian metaphysics. Sure, doubt can be a theological and moral source, but it will only go so far down the Christian path. You can give up God for Lent only so often before the novelty wears off and you just start giving up Lent completely. Doubt is a powerful moral and theological resource that cannot be abandoned, but doubt will struggle to sustain Christian practice and witness throughout the lifespan. At the very least, doubt has failed to do this for me. I've needed something else, some positive vision to fight for. I think recovering the language of spiritual warfare can help with this.
Second, liberal theologians need to recover the language of sin. We've become so worried about judging people -- yet another form of the reaction to toxic Christianity -- that we've evacuated the language of sin. If the language of sin is used at all it is usually reserved for structural sin, systemic injustice (a la Niebuhr, loved and admired by no less than President Obama). But this leaves us fairly well mute when it comes to the personal realm, where we experience addiction, infidelity, lust, vanity, and selfishness. This means that we've tended to have a great deal to say (usually in Facebook rants) about, say, famines in Africa, but less about the moral struggles of day to day living. I think this is a huge hole in theology. And I think recovering the language of spiritual warfare can help with this.
Finally, theology needs to connect better with the poor, uneducated and marginalized. For a variety of reasons the language of spiritual warfare is the idiom of disenfranchised groups. In working with poor and prison populations I've had to learn to talk like a Pentecostal. To be sure, I unpack this language in other ways (a la Wink and Stringfellow). Regardless, if we want to communicate with the poor and marginalized (who also tend to be people of color) we will need to learn to sound a bit more charismatic. We may even -- gulp -- have to raise our hands during a worship service.
Basically, the language of theology is too white, male and European. I'd recommend less talk about Derrida, Lacan, and Heidegger and more talk about the devil and the Holy Ghost.
And, obviously, I think the language of spiritual warfare can help with this.
