Theological Anachronism

Woe to you! For you build the tombs of the prophets whom your fathers killed.  Jesus, Luke 11:47

There is a tendency everywhere to treat the dead with reverence we would never have accorded them had they been alive at our own time. Time heals all wounds, it seems, and also deadens the impact of thought or actions that would damn someone were we watching the outcome of such actions on the evening news or reading the damnable words on a book fresh off the press. We see this perhaps most often in politics. Already, George W. Bush’s lamentable political career is being reconsidered; certain Republicans are pining for the Clinton years; and Reagan’s beatification into the Church of Capitalism is steaming along nicely. The former two gentleman are still alive; angst over them could not even last until the good-spirit engendered by death.

For the most part, I am perfectly fine with this. Bush was not the monster the caricaturists of the left made him out to be during his presidential tenure; the same follows for Clinton from the opposite side of the aisle. Both were men who had a position of authority the scope of which few of us can even imagine who were forced by their various times to make difficult choices. That most of us now regret the eight year engagement in Iraq and Afghanistan, does not mean that Bush was the nefarious and greedy tool of corporate interests that 9/11 conspiracy theorists and MSNBC talking heads made him out to be. Likewise, while few would exalt Clinton as a standard of morality, few can deny that he managed our country quite well during his tenure. It is part of the particular virulence of politics that prevents people from conceding that the opposing party has ever in their entire history made one decision that was not completely terrible. However, charity and nuance when evaluating another human being is not a sign of weakness but of grace.

This strikes me too as I consider the theological landscape of America today. We are becoming quite the partisans in this field as well. We have New Calvinists, and emergent postmoderns, and the old guard evangelical right. The New Calvinists (amongst whom I would have to place myself) abhor the paucity of scriptural reliance of the emergent postmoderns and the overdependence on politics as means of kingdom building of the religious right. The emergent feel the Bible to be a worthy document but unsuitable for answering the host of complications latent in contemporary society which the Bible could never have foreseen and therefore find the New Calvinists altogether too bleak and naïve, and they make no attempt to disguise their contempt for the religious right (many of whom are their parents). The religious right is for the most part Arminian and therefore denies the bleaker picture of human society/capability promoted by the New Calvinists in favor of an overtly political aim, and are wondering, as it concerns the emergents, how they could ever have strayed so far from the fold.

While I think one must hold theological convictions and protect them vigorously at times, I also feel that too often we can become so focused on condemning someone else that we forget to stand for something ourselves. Moreover, I believe that some of the people we contend against today will be seen in a much kinder light by our children and grandchildren.

One of the primary reasons I believe such a thing is because of the example of one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis. If Lewis were alive today he would be lambasted from certain corners of the internet and pulpit by people detesting his theological vision. Indeed, there is much I disagree with concerning Lewis’s theology. One prime example is at the conclusion of the final book of the Narnia series, The Last Battle, wherein a servant of the false god, Tash, is let into heaven by Aslan because Aslan understands that in all of this man’s striving after Tash he was actually striving after Aslan. Because he had never heard of Aslan, his religious conviction toward Tash gets him in through the backdoor to Aslan’s kingdom. Lewis is basically saying that all roads, followed diligently enough and with the proper amount of ignorance, will in the end lead the faithful of all stripes to Christ. Belief, to borrow a phrase from contemporary spiritual discourse, is all that matters. The actual substance of belief is less important. To me this is absolutely flabby theology and nowhere backed up by scripture. Furthermore, it is dangerous theology. The only way the Bible says that people will be set right before God is through professing Jesus as their Lord. To suggest that there is another way undercuts this fundamental mission of the church to bring all people to Christ. I do not like that.

Yet I love C.S. Lewis. Reading him is a delight to my soul. Right now I am working through the concluding book of the Space Trilogy, That Hideous Strength. I love it. I laugh out loud at times and it turns my mind over at others. Many of the same people who get red in the face today about the newest controversial book being released or rant and rave about this pastor or that philosopher, likewise read Lewis with delight and learn much from him.

Perhaps we cannot extend that charity to our contemporaries. Perhaps we are not supposed to. If I lived during Lewis’s time I suppose I would more directly have to voice my concerns over his theology. Maybe that is the right thing to do when the person is living and there can be hope for correction. But always, we must give grace. And we must bear in mind that we can read people with whom we disagree not only to become confirmed in our disagreement and more clearly demarcate the battle lines, but also to learn something.