Nu orice absolvent de teologie este „teolog”. Mărturisesc iritarea atunci cînd vreun proaspăt „seminarist” face afirmaţii de genul „din punct de vedere teologic” cînd el nici măcar nu a desfăcut harta teologică încă.
Pretenţiile de respect pentru un ascendent cîştigat chiar şi din partea unor teologi sadea pot fi deplasate dacă vom cugeta teologhisirea precum unul dintre celelalte daruri spre slujirea Bisericii, spre edificarea Templului, hrănirea Trupului şi înfrumuţesarea Miresei (Efeseni 4). Încă din 1996 în Universitatea Emanuel am pornit împreună cu ceilalţi colegi un program de înrădăcinare a studenţilor în viaţa eclesială. Rezultatele s-au văzut abia ani mai tîrziu. Eu însumi am încercat o echilibristică aproape imposibilă între viaţa de la catedră (evit să spun „carieră academică”) şi viaţa de la amvon (evit să spun „carieră eclesială”). Ceea ce am observat este că mulţi dintre studenţii care au finalizat studiile în 1998 s-au mişcat mai degrabă spre biserici decît spre mult visatele „burse în străinătate”.
Teologia nu este o meserie, nu este o profesie, este chemare, vocaţie, sarcină spirituală. Iată o serie de articole interesante referitoarea la actul teologal precum act de slujire eclesial-misionară.
Iată cum începe prima parte:
I will never forget my first day of Systematic Theology. (The year was 1996. Think Billy Ray Cyrus. America Online. Super Nintendo. Doc Martens. Et, as they say, cetera). I had decided to take Systematic during my first semester and the opening class period would be the first experience I would have in a seminary environment. I sat on a row with J. D. Greear, Keith Errickson, Micah Patisall, and Chris Thompson. As Dr. Patterson began class, he announced that he would begin by handing out the class “syllabi.” As he said this, I leaned over to a friend and mentioned that the proper plural of syllabus is “syllabuses,” not “syllabi.” At this point, Keith raised his hand, was acknowledged by the teacher, and proceeded to say, “My friend Bruce has a problem with your grammar.” I’m not joking. Dr. Patterson looked at me and said, “Yes?” To which I responded, “No sir, there is no problem with your grammar. My friend is joking.” The professor, however, insisted that I should put on my big boy pants and tell him what I really thought. So I did. I proceeded to unload my theory that syllabus was not derived from the Latin and therefore the plural should be syllabuses. Dr. Patterson thought about it for a second or two, looked at me, and said, “no, –buses are things that children ride to school, and since you know so much about everything, I will grade your weekly quizzes out loud, in front of the entire class, for the rest of the semester.” And that he did. Can you imagine what a never-ending carnival of theological wedgies the remainder of the semester was for me?
VEzi continuarea AICI
Iată din partea a doua:
What is theology? If we are going to reflect upon theology, we must first define it. There exist as many definitions of theology as there are theologians, and the various ways of defining it are not necessarily opposed to one another, but one way to put it is to say that it is “disciplined reflection on God’s self-revelation, for the purposes of knowing and loving God, and participating in his mission in this world.” Theology is disciplined reflection on God’s self-revelation, because the God we know, love, and obey has revealed himself in times past through his mighty acts, through his prophets and apostles, and through the incarnation of his Son, and now reveals himself through his written Word (cf. Heb. 1:1-2). This written Word is the primary source upon which a theologian draws, and is the norm by which we measure any other theological source (e.g. church tradition).
Further, theology is done for the purpose of knowing and loving God, and participating in his mission in this world. The task of theology is cognitive, affective, and dispositional. It aims at the head, the heart, and the hands. J. L. Dagg writes, “The study of religious truth ought to be undertaken and prosecuted from a sense of duty, and with a view to the improvement of the heart. When learned, it ought not to be laid on the shelf, as an object of speculation; but it should be deposited deep in the heart, where its sanctifying power ought to be felt.” Theology entails more than merely acquiring information about God; it entails affection for God and submission to God. When the theologian properly attends to the cognitive, affective, and dispositional dimensions of the task, he is able to glorify God’s name. Herman Bavinck writes, “… a theologian, a true theologian, is one who speaks out of God, through God, about God, and does this always to the glorification of His name.” The task of theology, therefore, is to glorify God by knowing, loving, and serving him.
Continuarea părţii a doua AICI
Iar partea a treia se încheie astfel:
Third, theology arises from, and issues forth in mission. The early church is a prime example. On the one hand their theology arose in the midst of their God-given mission. Paul’s epistles, for example, were written as he proclaimed the gospel, planted churches, and suffered for the sake of his faith. But on the other hand, their robust and powerful theology caused their mission to flourish. This mutually beneficial relationship arises from the fact that God’s Triune nature is the foundation of mission and his Triune life provides the pattern for mission. God is missional, therefore theology is missional. Mission is based upon God, therefore mission is theological. The biblical narrative, from which Christian theology arises, is nothing if not a missional narrative. Any theology that purports to be Christian but does not arise from mission and issue forth in mission is not a truly Christian theology at all.
Citiţi partea a III-a aici
partea a IV-a
At one point in my life, I thought “theology” was for only for eccentric religious professionals who wore hounds-tooth jackets with elbow patches, smelled like papyrus, smoked hand carved pipes, sported Santa Claus beards, and talked a lot about topics such as Second Temple Judaism and revelational epistemology. In other words, I thought they were weird. I thought it would be fun to stick a theologian in a room of normal people and play the game “Which one of these is not like the others?” (It would have been an easy game. In a room full of normal people, as I saw it, a theologian sticks out like an Amish kid with a nose ring.) Or so I thought. After I had actually studied theology at Southeastern, and had met a good number of theologians, I realized that theology is something that all believers do, and it is something that is done for many different audiences. That’s the question this installment answers. For whom do we do theology? For the church? For unbelievers? For the academy? Former University of Chicago theologian David Tracy is known for arguing that theologians must find ways to interact compellingly with three distinct audiences: academy, church, and society. This blog will “one-up” Tracy by arguing that theology must address at least five audiences: God, family, church, the academy, and society at large.
Theology for God:
Theology for the Family:
Theology for the Church:
Theology for the Academy:
Theology for Society:
Theology with Faithfulness and Excellence:
Partea a V-a cuprinde chestiuni extrem de interesante pentru lumea evanghelică:
This blog series is based upon the conviction that God can be known. But this conviction raises the question: If we believe that God can be known in a true, trustworthy, and sufficient manner (albeit not comprehensively or univocally), where do we look for such knowledge and how do we speak in such a manner? Upon what sources does a theologian draw when looking for raw material about God? And if there is more than one source for such material, how do we order the sources in priority? “Judgements about sources,” John Webster writes, “go hand-in-hand with acceptance of norms, that is, criteria by which decisions may be reached about which sources furnish the most authentic, reliable, and persuasive Christian teaching.” This post argues that we look first and foremost to Scripture, but always also draw upon reason, experience, culture, and tradition.
Christian Scripture is the primary source and supreme norm for Christian theology. Scripture, and Scripture alone, is inspired by God and profitable for doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness (2 Tim 3:16). As the theologian interprets Scripture, he seeks illumination from the Christian tradition and uses his God-given rational faculties and experience in order to appropriately conceptualize and articulate an evangelical theology within a particular cultural context.
Church history and historical theology assist the theologian in his task in several ways. First, the historical disciplines help us to recognize the ways in which inherited theological traditions have shaped the questions we ask and the answers we give. We recognize why certain issues occupy a central place in our structure of thought, and other issues occupy only a peripheral place. We notice how certain conceptual categories and forms of thought have been bequeathed to us by theologians of a different era. We realize that we do not come to the text of Scripture with virgin eyes; we come to the text having been influenced by the past. Second, the historical disciplines help us to preserve the integrity of tradition, while at the same time not allowing tradition to control us. Third, the historical disciplines allow us, in humility, to transcend our own era and location by learning from the great theologians and church traditions of the past. Indeed, as we will see in a later section of this chapter, theologians must continually beware of how their theological formulations may be contaminated by the idolatry of their own cultural context; historical theology helps to break free from being beholden to our own era and culture.
Citeşte întreg articolul AICI