In my previous posts, I demonstrated that the Bishops misread Johnson’s critique of modern theism as well as her understanding of divine incomprehensibility, particularly as it justifies her appeal to metaphor. Here, I’d like to continue the discussion about the Bishops’ critique of Johnson’s use of metaphor:
…since all names for God are merely metaphors that we use to point to the divine reality but that never actually lay hold of it, there appears to be no objective means for judging among metaphors for God as to which are closer to the truth. Indeed, as we shall see below, metaphors for God are to be evaluated not on the basis of their accuracy with regard to the nature of God, but primarily in terms of how they function in human society” (Statement 10).
O’Reilly has already pointed out the absurdity that Johnson is accused of both not having criteria and having the wrong criteria. We will assume therefore that for the Bishops “how [metaphors] function in human society” is seen as completely unrelated to “objective means for judging among metaphors for God as to which are closer to the truth.”
Let’s parse this claim out first in non-theological language. First, there is no essential connection between the sound of a word and its referent. Language is always culturally determined, which is also to say that it is always evolving. To understand what a word means at all we have to analyze how it functions in human society. If “father” shifts in meaning to become a synonym of the word “dog,” then we can no longer predicate it (either literally or metaphorically) for the same subjects as we did before. This is no less true for connotation than it is for denotation. So if the word “father” continues to refer literally to a biological or adoptive parent, but has negative connotations, then our use of it must also change (unless we wish to communicate those negative connotations). Notice that this analysis never suggests that the subjects who we currently call fathers would cease being biological or adoptive parents. Rather, that the word “father” might someday be the incorrect way to signify this fact. If we are going to evaluate whether something we say is true–for example, “X is a father” then knowing what the word “father” means is part of that investigation.
Further, language may also perpetuate certain systems of power. That is, language can be racist or sexist. It can function like the doublespeak in George Orwell’s 1984. Consider the difference in the phrases “abortion” and “termination of pregnancy.” That is, all our words are loaded. The language we use always privileges a certain perspective, even an entire worldview. Language is always political. Therefore, the evaluation of a metaphor’s truth-value must always include how the predicate and/or the metaphor as a whole functions in human society.
There is another reason to examine God-talk in terms of function. On account of the tension inherent to metaphor, there is always an “is” and “is not” moment. The truth of a metaphor relies not just on the appropriate correspondence of the “is” but also that both “is” and “is not” are maintained. This is heightened in theological language: God-talk must always abide by the analogy of being, in which the “is not” is always greater than the “is.” Evaluation of God-talk should not limit itself to analyzing the correspondence between the subject and predicate—that is, just the “is” moment. We must also evaluate whether the metaphor continues to operate at the level of analogy. For Johnson, who diagnoses the contemporary theological situation as having been negatively affected by the hubris of Enlightenment reason, the “is not” moment must be stressed. We have interpreted our language for God too literally. In understanding God as good we have forgotten that God supersedes even our most profound understandings of good. This failure of God-talk is not merely inadequate, it is also idolatrous. As Johnson quips, “dead metaphors make good idols” (20). Ironically, Johnson is actually arguing that we should use language that reminds us that our language and experience are inadequate—how strange that she is being critiqued for reducing God-language to merely a “human construct” (12)!
Many of the latter sections of the Bishops’ statement claim that it is her understanding of metaphor that grounds Johnson’s errors. I do not wish to review all of their challenges, but to choose one as representative of the way they are arguing. Consider their critique of her suggestion for employing female images of God:
Sr. Johnson argues that women “have experienced strong discomfort with the dominant images of God as father, lord, and king” (96) and that female language for God is not only permissible but necessary. For Sr. Johnson, language for God should be analyzed not primarily in terms of its adequacy for expressing the reality of God—all human language fails to attain the reality of God—but in terms of its socio-political effects. She sees God-language as a human construction that is created in a particular socio-political context and reflects socio-political power relations. In her view, the traditional Christian language for God arises from a patriarchal social structure in which men possess the preponderance of power. The male imagery of God is a device used by the patriarchal power structure to perpetuate itself. “As hallowed by tradition and currently used, all-male images of God are hierarchical images rooted in the unequal relation between women and men, and then function to maintain this arrangement” (96). Now that society has begun to change, the traditional images of God have become “religiously inadequate” (96). “Instead of evoking the reality of God, they block it” (96). (Statement 12).
Again we have the false dichotomy of “adequacy for expressing the reality of God” and “socio-political effects.” That Johnson sees these things as connected is not to reduce the criteria for God-talk to secular standards. It is to argue that the language that mediates an encounter with God does not function oppressively and vice versa. Note that the passage cited from Johnson places her critique on “all-male images” not “male images.” Johnson’s problem is largely with the way that the exclusive use of male images have literalized the connection between the male and the divine. This literalization conceals the “is not” moment of the metaphor and causes male God-talk to function in an idolatrous rather than iconic way.
The Bishops go on to describe Johnson’s proposals that we employ feminine imagery for the Bible and then they critique her for not giving precedence to divine revelation (Statement 12-13). Unfortunately, the Bishops do not describe what this would look like. Given that Johnson is most concerned to evaluate religious language from the standard of the analogy of being, and that her solution includes recovering Biblical imagery, I don’t understand how they can argue that “Sr. Johnson effectively eliminated as a criterion both divine revelation, to which Scripture and the Apostolic Tradition bear witness, and the Church’s teaching which interprets them” (Statement 14).
Conclusions
I have tried in the previous posts to provide as much of the text of the USCCB’s statement and of the The Quest for the Living God as possible, sacrificing clarity and brevity to do so. I have done this for the sake of those who have not read the book and/or do not have the theological patience to read the full statement. Posts and comments in the more belligerent nethers of the theoblogosphere have led me to believe that few people have read both of the texts in question. I have tried as much as possible to compare the statements to the relevant passages in Johnson’s texts so that readers can see for themselves whether or not the Bishops are carefully reading Quest. (I obviously think they are not.) These posts are therefore short on argument. Let it suffice to say that while the Bishops are critiquing Johnson for her method and conception of religious language, they fail to provide a coherent account of either of these things themselves. In a few places I have shown that they lift quotes out of context, distorting them to mean the exact opposite of what Johnson is arguing. I have also demonstrated that they at times misrepresent the tradition. In short, the Bishops’ statement fails as a piece of responsible scholarship.
Well played, Ms. Kidd. It seems to me that, though your posts do represent a pretty strong indictment of the USCCB report, they also attain to that “[taking] criticism as a valuable opportunity to delve more deeply into a subject” for which Johnson’s statement expresses a hope.
Thanks Mary! I am as hopeful as well.
I’m grateful for your careful analysis of the bishops’ statement. I am not a theologian and am not familiar with Johnson’s work, so I’ve found your discussion quite informative.
I’d be interested to hear what principles you think should be guiding the bishops when they respond to theological works written for mainstream audiences that (in their view) call certain orthodox positions into question. For example, I would think that one relevant question is how the Catholic of average intelligence and education (say, someone who is fairly well catechized but has never studied theology at an advanced level) would be influenced by the book. Would it reinforce or undermine their faith in the Church and her teachings?
I bring this up because, while it’s certainly crucial to know whether the bishops are right in their substantive criticisms of Johnson’s work, a work of this kind does not escape critical scrutiny just by being orthodox. Even if you’re right, and there is nothing unorthodox about the book’s conclusions, it’s quite possible that due to the style, method, or language with which the arguments and conclusions are advanced, there is a real danger that an ordinary Catholic would be misled or misinformed. (For example, one can imagine that an author writes a dialogue between a Catholic and atheist, intending his work to support Catholicism. Nevertheless, if due to the author’s failure to clearly convey the Catholic position the work appears to endorse atheism, this would be a genuine concern.)
None of this implies that the Church should be excessively paternalistic; this is a role that should be exercised with caution, should the bishops decide to approach matters from this perspective.
I’d be interested to hear what you think about this.
This is a big and important question and I am glad you asked it. I hope that others reading the blog will contribute their opinions.
It’s something I haven’t given any thought to because I’m not Catholic – the issue of oversight became concretely real to me only when a theologian I admire, and whose work has greatly influenced the research I would like to do, is being publicly critiqued.
I do, however, think a great deal about pedagogy in which the problem you are describing arises: how do we make sure that what we are teaching isn’t just correct, but is received correctly? (Ironically, that is what Johnson is trying to address in her book with her language about God-talk).
Johnson’s book may easily cause great scandal, especially because (as she diagnoses) many of us are catechized to equate truth=literalism. Any other conception of truth then seems less rigorous rather than more robust. And this scandal is not to be taken lightly. Anyone teaching this book in high school or undergraduate courses should themselves be able to help students deal with any spiritual or intellectual crises that result.
I’m sorry that I can’t offer more at this time, but this will be a question I will continue to think about. I do think that it is a much more important question to be asking than “Is _Quest_ orthodox?” though it will probably not be wrestled with enough until the latter is sufficiently established in the affirmative.
I would love to hear more of your, and anyone else’s, comments on this. Where do we go from here?
I would love to put my pastoral hat on and offer up some thoughts:
My general feeling is that, in many ways, the USCCB missed the entire point of Johnson’s project, easily summed up in the subtitle: “Mapping _Frontiers_ in the Theology of God.” Theologians, by the very nature of the depth and intensity of their study, will always be pushing the proverbial envelopes of what is considered orthodoxy by the Magisterium, at any given point in time. Aquinas himself was once considered dangerous because of his inclusion of “that pagan Aristotle” in his systematic work, and yet now he is the yardstick by which orthodoxy is measured.
What ministers — ordained and lay, professional or volunteer — should be doing is creating space for dialog about these frontiers. Erin, you’re spot-on when you say that: “Anyone teaching this book in high school or undergraduate courses should themselves be able to help students deal with any spiritual or intellectual crises that result.” I think the last thing Johnson herself would want is to have her work taught in a way which precluded genuine, thoughtful criticism. As Johnson indicated in her response to the USCCB, she writes in the hope of spurring on enriching conversation our lives and our faith, which doesn’t necessitate wholesale acceptance or rejection of her work. There’s a lot of space in between the two.
To some extent, the rationale the USCCB proposed in the introduction of their statement is not uncalled for — if grave distortions were circulated about the Christian tradition, it is their pastoral duty as teaching authorities to clarify. Yet, as Erin proved in this case, their own clarifications are internally incoherent, they misrepresent Johnson’s own arguments, and they couch it all in what I felt was (infuriatingly) condescending language. In short, they failed at their own proposed purpose in writing the statement.
Personally, I think this conversation about accessible theology in faith formation (across all ages and locations) should be a priority in parishes, schools, and other faith communities. This applies to more than just Quest, though it is unfortunate that there will probably be much more hesitancy in teaching the book among parish, elementary, and secondary school educators. It matters less whether Johnson is strictly “orthodox” and more whether she opens up a line of thought that, upon reflection and unpacking, brings someone into deeper relationship with God.
So I spent a good chunk of my day writing what ended up being 4 pages on the question of Catholic ecclesial authority and this case, but ultimately decided that nobody wants to listen to me go on like that so here is the conclusion I came to. I guess the most important things from all the stuff that I won’t say is that I think it is significant that Dr. Johnson, and the other theologians who have come under the criticism of the USCCB in the last few years have not been prohibited from teaching or publishing, and that I think it is important to approach this issue with the assumption that neither the bishops nor Dr. Johnson are writing with malicious intent with respect to the Church or to one another.
In an attempt to answer Erin’s question of where to we go from here I can only say that somehow we need to de-polarize the theologian-magisterium relationship and mutually acknowledge that neither the bishops nor the theological academy are pursuing partisan interests in some ill-conceived attempt to gain power within the ecclesial community but rather are participating in a joint effort to seek the truth and breathe life into the body of Christ (or at least this is how I think both sides should perceive themselves and the other).
Theologians perhaps need not assume that the intent of the bishops is to maintain the status quo or squash theological creativity, though it would also be necessary for the bishops to approach theologians as attempting to build up the body of Christ rather than subvert it, as well as to understand, respect, and engage with the insights of the theological community.
This is perhaps an overly optimistic view of a possible solution, and I’m not sure about specific measures to be taken beyond actually engaging in the conversations Archbishop Wuerl and Dr. Johnson have claimed to be open to, but these conversations, I think, if they occur within a context of mutual respect and love for the Truth (Jn 14:6), might at least be a possible first step.
It struck me that there is a familiar set of rules for theological engagement that provide a good model for how this process might ideally look:
[...] At WIT, we believe that robust theological reflection is characterized by collaboration and dialogue. We’re committed to creating a safe space for discussions that are open, challenging and respectful.
Disagreement is a necessary and fruitful part of this process. It is most productive when all parties agree to assume good faith. People who post on this blog, and people who comment on it, do so in order to seek greater understanding and contribute positively to Christian feminist reflection. Each party will assume that any response to her work has this positive goal in mind, even if it takes the form of a negative critique. In order to preserve the possibility of this assumption, any negative critiques should be directed to particular claims and, where possible, cite directly from the text in question. No ad hominem arguments will be accepted. [...]
As a non-Catholic looking in on this situation from the outside, I find it would be more appropriate to ask your primary question, “Would it reinforce or undermine their faith in the Church and her teachings?” of the USCCB itself. I am automatically leery of any such oversight committee with a seeming vested interest in maintaining the status quo having the final word on the “frontiers of theology;” such a blatant (willful?) misinterpretation of Johnson’s work does nothing to alleviate those fears.
However, I owe my current knowledge of and interest in further investigating Johnson’s work to the USCCB’s statement and Erin’s thoughtful and thorough response. The Quest would not have even been on my radar at all without this current dust-up.
[...] is summarized here and can be found in its entirety here), among them the excellent series going on at the WIT blog. As I note in a comment somewhere on that blog (somewhat more snarkily than was [...]
[...] UPDATE: Part IV is here. [...]
[...] Part I ; Part II ; Part III; Part IV [...]
Brian R, you mentioned that “other theologians who have come under the criticism of the USCCB in the last few years have not been prohibited from teaching or publishing.”
I think the one huge exception to that would be Roger Haight, S.J.
I agree, and I was looking into that as a comparison case (especially becuase I love my Jesuits and Jesuit institutions), but there is one key difference.
While Dr. Johnson’s book, along with The Sexual Person by Todd Salzman and Michael Salazar; Being Religious Interreligiously by Peter Phan; and two 2006 pamphlets on contraception, abortion and same-sex marriage by Daniel Maguire were investigated and formally criticized by the USCCB Committee on Doctrine (thank you John L. Allen), Fr. Haight was investigated and barred from teaching at the fomer Weston Jesuit School of Theology by the then Cardinal Ratzinger led CDF. (At least I am unaware of action taken by the USCCB, which I think would likely be redundant after a CDF ruling but I am always willing to be wrong on the finer details of ecclesial government.)
Because I am not positive about the formal differences in authority between the CDF and national bishops’ conferences, and since Dr. Johnson and the others were not prohibited from teaching at Catholic institutions or publishing I didn’t think that the comparison held water, or at least I couldn’t wrap my head around how to make it work.
Here is a link to John L. Allen’s initial piece in the NCR about the USCCB statement on Quest. It provides some insight into the actual process and has links to pdf documents of the full statement and accompanying letter from Archbishop Wuerl:
http://ncronline.org/news/spirituality/us-bishops-blast-book-feminist-theologian
Allen suggests either in that article or in his most recent blog post on the NCR website what I think is a plausible explanation for this pattern of content-based criticism rather than punitive measures taken against the authors themselves, that the bishops’ intent is to focus on ideas rather than individuals. What I think is interesting with respect to this line of thinking is the content of the books in question, namely interaction between religious traditions; political, liberation, feminist, black, Hispanic, interreligious, and ecological theological lines of thinking; and issues related to sexual identity, sexual ethics, and well, sex.
It’s important to note that such statements do have the power to either clarify important positions OR if they misread and misrepresent the text, they have the power to do great damage to a well-respected theologian’s reputation and potentially her career. And, I might be too cynical, but I’m not confident that this is a case of going after certain ideas rather than the person because the same ideas are present in her previous texts as well as the work of many other Catholic theologians who have gone without problems, potentially in this case making an example of a prominent well-respected and admired thinker. Hopefully, I am too cynical.
I guess I should also make note of this at NCR since it is the source of the error, but I just wanted to correct the name of the second author of The Sexual Person: it is Michael G. Lawler.
Ah, right you are about Haight’s censure coming not from the USCCB but from the CDF. My bad. On the other hand, even if the USCCB has no teeth compared to the CDF, I have a hard time seeing the USCCB’s particular intervention in this case as any less hostile than the CDF’s intervention in previous cases. As Weinandy himself said, “[The bishops] felt it was self-evident in the book what she was saying and that it was wrong. The bishops felt it was expedient, since this book has become so popular, to act upon it immediately…The bishops felt that [meeting with her] would just prolong a process that they really didn’t want to prolong.”
I’m sympathetic to your cynicism Megan but I think one of the ways to try and overcome the mutual villainization between theological academy and magisterium is to assume best intent and so I’m taking Archbishop Wuerl at his word that the Committee on Doctrine was responding to a) requests from unnamed bishops as to the theological orthodoxy of Quest, and b) concern with Quest’s use as a teaching tool in Catholic schools. Both of these catalysts for the investigation, I assume, would not have applied to Dr. Johnson’s previous works.
I have to admit here that I haven’t read, in their entirety, either Quest or the statement from the USCCB. My knowledge is based on some secondary literature and Erin’s analysis here (which, as a side note, were great for someone who hasn’t had the primary texts in their hands and impressive both in terms of quantity and quality). It seems to be clear based on the responses I’ve read, here and elsewhere, that the bishops missed the boat on some of the finer details of Sr. Johnson’s work, to put it generously. For the sake of argument then, I’m suspending considering the conclusions drawn by the committee and focusing on the issue of ecclesial oversight. (I understand this is a HUGE element of the conversation to table but I’m assuming that the decision to investigate Dr. Johnson’s book came before the theological conclusions were drawn, and therefore the conclusions can be considered apart from the process itself, though I think that improvements to the process would likely improve the results.)
If the perception on the part of American bishops was that Quest contained inauthentic teachings that were being presented as such (again assuming that the process was begun before conclusions were drawn), then Archbishop Wuerl and the rest of the Committee on Doctrine, as responsible for the “spiritual well-being of the faithful and the oversight of authentic teaching” were correct to examine the book. I would add here that there is also a responsibility to diligently and accurately assess the content of the book and present the conclusions reached in a manner appropriate to both the academic guild qua academia as well as with respect to classroom usage, if those are the concerns being dealt with. It would seem, based on the secondary criticisms I’ve read, this latter responsibility was not met (which is not to say that investigation must end in agreement with the theologian in question).
I find myself wondering on this point how long the committee took to examine Quest. Since the criticism has come 4 years after the book’s publication, there is no clear timeline as to the request from the bishop’s referred to by Archbishop Wuerl and the publication of the USCCB statement.
I take seriously your point that misrepresenting a theologians work might do great damage to someone’s career and reputation, and I think these issues of how long a text is considered, how many bishops read it, and whether or not the author is consulted are all areas for either improvement or greater transparency. (Though Archbishop Wuerl suggests in his letter that conversation could have occurred had Dr. Johnson sought an imprimatur. – I say this only because I imagine that this would be the Archbishop’s response to criticisms into the process itself, though I think that there should be an opportunity for a theologian to respond to challenges before they are made public whether or not an imprimatur is sought. Yet another area for improvement in theologian-magisterium relations.)
On a somewhat related note, the concern raised by the USCCB over the use of Quest in classroom settings presents another interesting angle on this conversation, specifically the responsibility of those in teaching positions to consider how a lecture, or set of lectures on a given text, is received may have implications beyond the success of a given student in a given course. I am in agreement, as written above, that “Anyone teaching this book in high school or undergraduate courses should themselves be able to help students deal with any spiritual or intellectual crises that result” but are these crises always brought to the attention of the instructor? Is the instructor always capable of dealing /willing to deal with these situations on top of teaching, publishing, trying to get tenure, sitting on committees, having a family, etc…?
This isn’t to say that those outside of the theological academy can’t understand theological arguments, or that instructors are lazy/ disinterested but simply to suggest that sometimes life intervenes and/or in educational settings that are not purely focused on providing a theological education (though often within those settings as well) students often absorb as truth whatever happens to penetrate between 1-3, hour long lectures/ discussions on a given text (If you have ever graded papers or tests, think back to some of the things that you have read). This may not be the most important aspect of the conversation but I think it might be the most important element that could be left unexamined and so something that everyone who is in or pursuing a teaching position in theology might think about.
I think I just want to say that the things that could potentially be misunderstood about Johnson’s book, namely the “metaphor” issue, also should be included in general catechesis, otherwise we’re left with people thinking that language is more literally used than it is (which is an issue that I think is in danger of being interpreted from the bishops’ statement itself, and so the reasoning that anything that could be misunderstood should have a statement might imply that the statement needs its own statement). Also, my personal opinion is the book is incredibly accessible (even more so than Johnson’s more academic writing which is still incredibly accessible), we’re not talking about Rahner here; I think this is important to note because it seems to be the assumption otherwise that the laity are too stupid to delve into more robust way of thinking about God.
Brian, I don’t think this is exactly what you’re saying, but it’s an implication of the pedagogical question in general that just occurred to me. There seems to be an assumption in the way in which the USCCB has used its teaching authority that only newer, “unorthodox” texts call for clarification (and reprimand). Yet, teachers and catechists can teach perfectly orthodox texts, and students may still encounter these crises of faith.
As an example from my own experience, in highschool I had a very hard time when I first read Augustine because of his comments on women. Primarily, this was because I was given little cultural and historical context for his writings; my teacher was not prepared to help me think critically about such a venerated theologian and see what was valuable in his thought despite what seemed like such blatant misogyny.
It makes me wonder if writing such statements in reaction to particular texts is really the best long-term option for the USCCB, or the Magisterium as a whole. Rather, it might be more helpful for bishops to pay more attention to the overall pedagogical methods and tools that our teachers, ministers, and catechists have access to. There is really very little available for professional development for lay teachers and ministers, and most catechists recieve paltry training on the parish level. Shifting focus to strengthening our educators could leave everyone better prepared to teach any text, orthodox or not, in a way that spurs on fruitful and faith-deepening conversation.
Lorraine,
Your point on training teachers to adequately deal with what we’ve been calling crises of faith with respect to any text is definitely a fair one and was definitely an intended implication of my raising that angle on this situation.
In this case though the use of Quest in classrooms is only one of Archbishop Wuerl’s two stated reasons for starting the investigation at all. The other reason, that unnamed bishops raised questions as to the orthodoxy of the text still remains, and I think stands as a legitimate reason for investigating a particular text, assuming good intentions and no ulterior motives in play.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I agree that educators should be better trained and more reflective with respect to their sensitivity to the unique spiritual needs of students receiving theological training, but I also think that if theologians want bishops to respect their role in the church and by extension something resembling “academic freedom” there also needs to be a corresponding respect for the role of the bishops and something resembling “magisterial teaching authority.”
I’m using scare quotes and qualifying these terms loosely because I think that they only partially capture what theologians and bishops are looking for from one another, and because they are ineffective in the way we use them now, but it would probably take alot of time, effort, and the input of alot of people to come to a conclusion about how these terms might be used more constructively. My intuition is that these two issues (teaching and determining orthodoxy) are not totally independent of one another and my hope is that the problems specific to each could be resolved together.
Brian,
I don’t want to be combative, but I think that without citing evidence that theologians don’t respect the teaching authority, you’ve built a strawman that simply skirts around the issue discussed at length in Erin’s posts–namely, that even with respecting that teaching authority it would appear that these bishops are currently getting it wrong. This isn’t a theoretical debate about balancing the role of the theologian with the role of the magisterium, we’re talking about the work of one particular theologian. The assumption in your comments about balancing “academic freedom” with “magisterial authority” almost assumes that Johnson’s work goes outside the bounds, a position which we here at WIT have denied consistently throughout the last few days. So the question for the bishops seems to be which way that the text in question could be misleading to faithful, which I think is a question (or perhaps even their own orthodoxy?) that must also be directed at the formulas used by the bishops themselves because of the way in which they seem to imply a denial of the ways in which God remains mystery.
I hesitate to comment because I didn’t study theology and I seem to have slept through the whole of my RCIA class, but ….
What’s the purpose of theology? I’d say the purpose of philosophy, at least ideally, is to encourge critical thinking in the service of discovering truth. But this all seems to be about “teaching” Catholics what they are supposed to believe to be in good standing. Is theology just about defending and perpetuating accepted doctrine? There seems to be no room for growth of thought and no opportunity for Catholics to discern a path toward truth. But maybe I just don’t understand.
Hi, Crystal–
I think you definitely DO understand one of the central issues facing theology today: there is disagreement concerning the purpose of theology and the vocation of the theologian. Is theology primarily a matter of elaboration (of what those in positions of ecclesial authority have already proposed) or is theology primarily a matter of exploration (taking the fundamental truths of the faith as starting points, but perhaps focusing more on where those fundamental truths lead us, and not excluding the possibility that we may be lead to derivative positions that differ, or push the bounds of, the derivative positions currently elaborated)?
Incidentally, I know you are currently reading Philip Endean’s book on Rahner and Ignatian spirituality; I found his comments in the last chapter on the formation of ecclesial subjects and the capacity of such subjects to dissent based precisely on their fidelity to fundamental truths of faith to be quite helpful (around pg 203). Essentially, Endean argues that in a situation which one might be tempted to categorize as a person dissenting from magisterial teaching and thus not being sufficiently formed by the Church, we should examine the extent to which such “dissent” is informed by deep faith commitments, and in fact shares these deeper commitments with the magisterial teaching authority — and so should be respected as a legitimately theological stance. This does NOT characterize Johnson, I want to say, as nothing in QFTLG does dissent from an established teaching, but I do think it offers something to broader conversations on the relationship between doctrine and theology.
I think most of us on WIT take a more correlationist posture toward the discipline of theology and the vocation of the theologian: that we see ourselves bringing the commitments of our faith and the knowledge and experience of the contemporary moment into mutually-critical conversation with one another. This does not mean that everything is up for grabs or that we start from ground zero, but it can cause us to ask whether positions that have been derived from the foundational commitments of our faith in other contexts might not obscure our ability fully to appropriate these foundational commitments, and then lead us to seek ways of articulating these derivative positions that open up our fundamental commitments in our own particular contexts.
I would have some concern that the bishops’ committee’s report on QFTLG may confuse this correlationist approach to theology, which seeks an authentic conversation from within a faith stance, with something it is not — standing outside a faith tradition and applying wholly foreign norms to it.
Thanks, Bridget, that explains it well.
I haven’t read the part you mention of Fr. Endean’s book yet but I’m aware of his beliefs on that subject – part of the reason I like him so much
He has some articles that touch on this, one about Ignatius and church authority and one about Rahner and von Balthasar, both at his website. And of course, he’s said as much when commenting on the new missal translation. I think part of why he feels that way (but I could be wrong) is that Ignatius believed God deals directly with people and that people can use the discernment of spirits to make good decisions, good even when they may conflict with church teaching.
What I appreciate about your blog is that stuff does get talked about, explored, and not just “explained”
[...] and defended Johnson’s book against the charges leveled at it. (Introduction, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.) We also included some testimonials from some of Prof. Johnson’s former undergraduate [...]
[...] of Elizabeth Johnson and her most recent book, Quest for the Living God, about which WIT have had some thoughts, and on which the boards of directors of the Catholic Theological Society of America [...]
[...] to the theological adequacy of the bishops’ complaints: Defense of the Quest I, II, III, IV. Dan Horan of Dating God also wrote some comments about the implications of Friday’s release for [...]