B u l l e t i n
The North American Paul Tillich Society
Volume XXXIX, Number 4
Fall 2013
Editor: Frederick J. Parrella, NAPTS Secretary-Treasurer
Religious Studies Department, Santa Clara University
Kenna Hall, Suite 300, Room H, Santa Clara, California 95053
Associate Editor: Jonathan Rothchild, Loyola Marymount University
Assistant to the Editor: Vicky Gonzalez, Santa Clara University
Telephone: 408.554.4714/ 408.259.8225/408.554.4547
FAX: 408.554.2387
Email: fparrella@scu.edu
Website: www.NAPTS.org/ Webmeister: Michael Burch, San Rafael, California
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
In this issue:
Programs for the Annual Meeting in Baltimore: The NAPTS Meeting and the AAR
Tillich Group Meeting
The Annual Banquet of the North American Paul Tillich Society
In Memoriam: Robert P. Scharlemann by Mary Ann Stenger and Annette Neblett
Evans
New Publications
A Reminder about Dues
“Tillich’s Systematic Theology as an Educational Resource for a Comparative Critical
Dialogue on Peace-Making” by Peter Slater
“Paul Tillich and Paul Ricœur on the Meaning of ‘Philosophical Theology’
Introduction” by Michael Sonn
“Tillich and Intellectual Disability: Adequacy of Accounts of Faith” by Courtney Wilder
“Belief Without Borders: Theological Perspectives on the Rise in ‘Nones’” by
Linda Mercadante
“Music as Theology: Using Tillich’s Theology of Culture to Understand the Prophetic
and Theological in Popular Music” by Meredith A. Holladay
Annual Meeting of the NAPTS
Baltimore, Maryland
Friday and Saturday, November 22
and November 23, 2013
Duane Olson, McKendree University
Presiding
Friday, November 22, 2013
9:00 AM—11:30 AM
Room: Hilton Baltimore—Brent
Zachary W. Royal Garrett Theological Seminar
Cultural Transformation as Ultimate Concern:
Tillich’s Theological Project of Cultural Embeddedness in Conversation with The Black Liberation Theology of James Cone
Theme: Tillich and Liberation Theologies
Alan Richard Realistic Living, Inc.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Liberation from the Word: Tillich’s Systematic
Theology and Revelation in Liberation Theology
7:00 PM—10 PM
Friday, November 22
The NAPTS Annual Banquet
Nathan Crawford , Plymouth, Indiana
“What Can I Do?:” Turning to Tillich for
Help in the (Over)Information Age
______________________________________
Place: The Baltimore Convention Center,
Room 328.
Speaker: Marion Hausner Pauck
Friday, November 22, 2013
1:00 PM—3:30 PM
Room: Hilton Baltimore—Brent
Details following the NAPTS and AAR Tillich
Group Programs
______________________________________
Theme: Correlation and Contemporary Thought
Bryan Wagoner, Davis and Elkins College
Presiding
Saturday, November 23
9:00 AM—11:30 AM
Room: Sheraton Inner Harbor
Loch Raven 1
Laura Thelander, Luther Theological Seminary
Tillich and the Changing Face of
Theological Education
Mary Ann Stenger, University of Louisville
Correlating a Contemporary Existential Question with the Symbol of Transfiguration
Alexander Blondeau, Luther Theological
Seminary
“Yes, But Only If God Does Not Exist”: A Tillichian Answer to the Question of God’s Necessity
for Morality
______________________________________
Friday, November 22, 2013
4:00 PM—6:30 PM
Room: Hilton Baltimore—Brent
Theme: Tillich and Contemporary
Christianity
Echol Nix, Furman University
Presiding
Lawrence Whitney, Boston University
Correlating to “Nones:” Tillich’s Method of
Correlation and Late Modernity
Sharon Peebles Burch, Interfaith Counseling Center
Formulating Questions, Facilitating Change:
Tillich’s Method of Correlation
Christopher Rodkey, Penn State University, York
Pentecosting: Preaching the Death of God
2
Theme: Issues in the Systematic Theology
Charles Fox, Regent University
Presiding
Annette Neblett Evans, Lynchburg College
Otherness and Fallenness
Wesley J. Wildman, Boston University
Tillich’s Systematic Theology as a Template
for the Encounter between Christian
Theology and Religious Naturalism
Richard Grigg, Sacred Heart University
The Key Element in Paul Tillich’s Systematic
Theology
Ryan Coyne, University of Chicago
Reconsidering the Sources of Tillich’s
Ontology
_______________________________________
Tillich: Issues in Theology, Religion,
and Culture Group
A24-229
Sunday—1:00 PM—2:30 PM
Tillich: Issues in Theology, Religion,
and Culture Group
Theme: Contemporary Applications of Paul Tillich’s Theology
Sharon Peebles Burch, Interfaith Counseling Center
Presiding
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Mike Grimshaw, University of Canterbury
The Irrelevance and Relevance of the Radical,
Impure Tillich
Samantha Lyon, Boston University
No Shallow Beauty: A Reinterpretation of
Anthropocentrism in Paul Tillich’s Theology of
Nature
Michael Turner, University of Chicago
A Failure to Communicate? A Tillichian
Approach to the Symbolism in Cool Hand Luke
Alexander Blondeau, Luther Theological Seminary,
St. Paul
Intimacy Through Self-Loss: Intersections in the
Paradoxical Soteriologies of Paul Tillich and
Sebastian Moore
Tillich Group Business Meeting
Russell Re Manning, University of Aberdeen
Presiding
__________________________________________
A24-277
Tillich: Issues in Theology, Religion,
and Culture Group
Kierkegaard, Religion, and Culture
Group
Sunday - 3:00 PM—4:30 PM
3
Vincent A. McCarthy, St Joseph’s University,
Philadelphia
Christian Danz, Universität Wien, Evang. Theol.
Fakultät
Daniel Whistler, University of Liverpool
______________________________________
A25-238
Monday—1:00 PM—3:30 PM
Tillich: Issues in Theology, Religion, and Culture
Group
Theme: Paul Tillich in Conversation with Contemporary Pentecostal Theology
Wolfgang Vondey, Regent University,
Presiding
Nimi Wariboko, Andover Newton Theological
School
Political Theology from Tillich to
Pentecostalism in Africa
Frank Macchia, Vanguard University
Justification in the Ecstasy of the Spirit: A
Pentecostal Engagement with the Pneumatology
of Paul Tillich
Lisa Stephenson, Lee University
Spiritual Presence and the Divine Feminine: A
Tillichian-Pentecostal-Feminist Spirituality
Theme: Schelling, Kierkegaard
Russell Re Manning, Aberdeen
Presiding
Panelists:
Adam Pryor, Bethany College
Stacey Ake, Drexel University
The NAPTS Annual Banquet
The NAPTS Annual Banquet will be at the Baltimore Convention Center, Room 328.
Speaker: Marion Hausner Pauck
Title: Remembering the Past, Looking Forward to
the Future
Menu: Breast of Chicken filled with Fresh Lump
Crab Mousseline, with thyme infused mushrooms,
wild and white rice with orange and scallion, sautéed
fresh vegetable medley, and fruit-topped New York
cheesecake.
Responding
Mark Lewis Taylor,
Princeton Theological Seminary
John Thatamanil
Union Theological Seminary
Reservations: Contact Frederick Parrella, Secretary
Treasurer at:
fparrella@scu.edu
408.554-4714 ((office)
408.259.8225 (home)
Price: 55 USD
The banquet fee may be paid in advance by mail:
Dr. F. J. Parrella, Religious Studies
Santa Clara University
Santa Clara, CA 95053
Cash or check only.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
In Memoriam: Robert P. Scharlemann
[Editor’s Note: The theological world, especially the
world of Tillich scholarship, lost one of its great luminar‐
ies in 2013. Bob Scharlemann was an extraordinary gift to
all of us in Tillich studies. Two of his students, who are
themselves distinguished scholars in Tillich, have written
brief tributes in his memory. The editor is grateful for the
following contributions.]
R
obert P. Scharlemann, Emeritus Commonwealth
Professor of Religious Studies at the University
of Virginia, died July 10th in Charlottesville, Virginia. One of the early founders of the North American Paul Tillich Society in 1974, Scharlemann
served as Vice-President (1977), President (1978),
and Secretary-Treasurer and Editor of the Newsletters (1979-1982, 1988-1997). As the NAPTS informal liaison, he regularly attended the conferences of
the Deutsche Paul Tillich Gesellschaft, the Tillich
Symposia in Frankfurt sponsored by Prof. Dr. Gert
Hummel, and the colloquia of the Association Paul
Tillich d’Expression française. His two major books
on Tillich are: Reflection and Doubt in the Thought
of Paul Tillich (New Haven: Yale University Press,
1969) and Religion and Reflection: Essays in Paul
Tillich’s Theology (Münster: LIT Verlag, 2005).
Outside of his enduring scholarship on Tillich,
Scharlemann explored theological reasoning and
truth, especially in The Being of God: Theology and
the Experience of Truth (New York: Seabury, 1981)
and in The Reason of Following: Christology and
the Ecstatic I (Chicago and London: University of
Chicago Press, 1991). He published several other
monographs and edited volumes in philosophical
theology with the University Press of Virginia. He
also served as Editor of the Journal of the American
Academy of Religion in the early 1980s.
After earning both a B.A. and a B.D. from Concordia College, Scharlemann received a Fulbright
Scholarship that enabled him to go to the University
of Heidelberg. There he received his doctorate in
philosophical theology, with his dissertation published as Thomas Aquinas and John Gerhard (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1964). He served as
Professor of Religion at the School of Religion at the
University of Iowa (1963-1981) and then was appointed Commonwealth Professor of Religious Studies at the University of Virginia.
As a professor, Dr. Scharlemann empowered his
students to become their own thinkers and scholars.
His seminars focused on furthering his students’ re-
4
search, rather than his own projects. His quiet manner yet penetrating questions created an atmosphere
of shared investigation and deepening students’
analyses.
Outside of his academic work, Scharlemann
preached regularly in various Lutheran churches and
played the piano for his own enjoyment.
He was a significant contributor to the scholarship, finances, and social spirit of the NAPTS. We
have missed him during these past few years of illness but we are grateful for his many gifts to Tillich
scholars over many decades, both in North America
and in Europe.
Mary Ann Stenger
University of Louisville
Remembering Mr. Scharlemann
I
have always believed that God works in mysterious ways. That’s probably why I never thought
about what a miracle it was that Robert Scharlemann
came to the University of Virginia a mere two years
after I arrived to do my graduate study. I had come
to the University of Virginia to live in the mountains
and to study Paul Tillich, and though the former was
going well, the latter was not. To really study Tillich, one needed a Robert P. Scharlemann. Luckily
for me, he arrived. I didn’t know him well, but I do
remember certain specific things about him that,
when taken as a whole, made him an unforgettable
and exceptional professor. Below are a few of my
favorite memories.
As a teacher: He was traditional, and always
dressed up. For class, he always wore a sweater vest
under his blazer. His punctuality rivaled Kant’s.
As a lecturer: He was, not surprisingly, brilliant.
His lectures were a work of art. The courses he
taught were like giant jigsaw puzzles that, when first
dumped from the box, seemed impossible to put together. However, by the end of a semester, the picture—be it 19th century theology or Tillich’s Systematic Theology—was complete, with the pieces fitting
together in a seamless whole.
As a mentor: He was honest. He never gave
praise when it wasn’t due. He was a man of very few
words, but what he said was inspirational. Before he
took me on as an advisee, I asked him if he considered himself to be a ‘Tillichian’. His answer: “Yes,
in the sense that Tillich tells us to think for ourselves.” When it came time to write my dissertation,
I asked him to help me choose a topic that hadn’t
been done. He said, “The topic doesn’t matter. Just
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
5
do it better than anyone else.” And, finally, when he
called to tell me he was ready for me to defend, he
said simply, “This will do.”
As a scholar: He was incomparable. He lived his
intellectual life on a totally different plane, and
though he knew it, he was not arrogant about it. In
fact, he was one of the least arrogant people I have
ever known. Once, trying to make conversation, I
mentioned that a friend at Duke Divinity School had
a class in which they were to read The Being of God.
He looked at me and nodded and said, in his clipped
voice, “Alright.” Later, my friend called to say that
the assignment had been modified: now, instead of
reading the book, the semester’s goal was to outline
one chapter. When I told him that, he smiled and
said, “That’s about right.”
As a person: He was quite possibly the most
authentic person I have ever met. He did things his
way, and he was not influenced by the opinion of
society. For example, he was not chatty. He rarely
started conversations, but he seemed happy to converse when engaged. He never talked about himself.
This being said, his students didn’t know much
about him. To us, he seemed a bit of an enigma.
Imagine our surprise to learn that he drove a sports
car! And that it sported the license plate DASEIN 1.
(We always wanted to ask him if he knew who had
taken DASEIN, but we didn’t.) Another surprise: his
favorite place to hang out was the Dunkin Donuts on
Emmett Street in Charlottesville. It was there that I
saw him for the last time, about eight years ago. It
was mid morning. He had retired from teaching at
UVA, and was reading the newspaper. He was
dressed, as always, in a blazer, sweater vest and tie.
He seemed genuinely happy to see me. We talked
like old friends, mainly about our shared love of the
TV series, Frasier. I told him then how much I had
enjoyed, and benefited from reading, The Reason of
Following. As I was leaving, I got up the courage to
thank him for everything. I also told him that I
thought we had strikingly similar intellectual interests, but that he was just operating on a much higher
plane. He tilted his head and thought for a moment,
then smiled and said, “I think that’s right.” I wasn’t
hurt; he didn’t say it to be mean. For him, it was just
a statement of fact. And it was true.
His legacy? Mr. Scharlemann wrote an essay
about Paul Tillich with the very apt title, After Tillich, What? Members of this society have taken that
title as our task. But I have often thought, since
learning of his death, of how necessary it is for us to
pose the question After Scharlemann, What else?
Like Tillich, his thought was (light) years before its
time, and it will take years to unlock it and make it
more accessible. He has left us with a rich and vast
legacy, and we owe it to him to preserve it.
It would be comforting, but speculative, to think
that Scharlemann is now at a conference table in
heaven with Tillich, Barth, Niebuhr, and others. But
he is, in fact, with them in stature, and will be remembered as one of the greatest philosophical theologians of the 20th century.
Annette Neblett Evans
Lynchburg College
New Publications
search project assessing the experiences of filmgoers
in Latin America.
Gounelle, André. Paul Tillich. Une foi réfléchie.
Collection Figures Protestantes. Lyons: Editions
Olivétan, 2013.
Brant, Jonathan. Paul Tillich and the Possibility of
Revelation through Film, Oxford University
Press, 2012. This study explores the possibility
that even films lacking religious subject matter
might have a religious impact upon their viewers. It begins with a reading of Paul Tillich’s
theology of revelation through culture and continues with a qualitative re
From Erdmann Sturm:
Paul Tillich, Frankfurter Vorlesungen (1930-1933):
Philosophie der Religion (1930). Die Entwicklung der Philosophie von der Spätantike zur
Renaissance (1930/31). Geschichte der Ethik
(1931). Die Philosophie der deutschen Klassik
(1932). Fragen der systematischen Philosophie
(1932/33). Herausgegeben und mit einer historischen Einleitung versehen von Erdmann
Sturm. Berlin/ Boston: Verlag de Gruyter/
Evangelisches Verlagswerk GmbH, 2013.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Tillich’s Systematic Theology as an
Educational Resource for a
Comparative Critical Dialogue on
Peace-Making
Peter Slater
T
he founders of the Center for the Study of
World Religions at Harvard University wanted
to encourage those who educate future international
leaders and their teachers to enlist religion in the
cause of world peace. In the aftermath of World War
II and the Korean War, many liberal arts colleges
and university faculties of Arts and Science were
establishing departments of Religious Studies to address the ignorance of most North Americans regarding traditions other than their own. Many Philosophy departments shelving broader inquiries to
concentrate on the “logic of language” had left a gap
in Humanities programs for those studying alternative ideas concerning meaning and values in life.
The turn to “religion” as an academic concentration
was part of an attempt to fill this gap.
In this draft chapter of a book I hope to finish
writing in 2013, I review salient features of the theology of Paul Tillich with a view to developing a
confessionally-based approach to comparative thinking that is relevant to implementing their mandate in
the twenty-first century. As distinct from supposedly
neutral descriptions of all religious positions, confessional comparative approaches are explicitly
theological and dialogical, based on the full resources of particular denominational dealings with
others. “Post-modern” comparative theologians,
such as Francis X. Clooney S.J., the current Director
of the Harvard Center, are experts trained in the history of traditions “other” than their own, who ask
what their dialogical encounters suggest on specific
topics.1 To supplement such historical, textual proficiency with the disciplined insights of critically systematic theological thinking on issues raised, I draw
on Tillich for a fuller sense of what systematic theological thinking involves, with particular reference
to peacemaking.
Tillich and Barth were two of the most important Protestant theologians of the twentieth century.
Unlike Barth, Tillich bridged the gap between the
universalizing perspective of the Center’s founders
and the particularizing demands of contemporary
academic research in confessional theology and religious studies. As noted elsewhere, he was at Harvard when the Center was established but kept his
6
distance. Both the first Director of the Harvard Center—my father Robert Slater at Columbia, and I at
Harvard—attended Tillich’s public lectures and
graduate seminars on theology.2 His conception of
theology was more attuned to the neo-orthodoxy
being embraced at the time by mainstream Protestant
theological colleges in Europe and North America
than our Anglican blend of patristic dogmatics and
philosophy of religion. Regarding comparative theology, his starting-point was different from the
would-be scientific one, a century earlier, of Max
Müller, the organizing editor of the Sacred Books of
the East,3 and from the natural theology approach of
many Catholic theologians and philosophers of religion.4
Paul Tillich, Robert Slater, and Wilfred Cantwell Smith, the second Director, were all men of
large vision. They knew directly the ravages of
modern warfare and economic depression. Any answers to global questions for them had to ring true to
their generation’s experiences.5 They lived through
the rise and fall of fighting “the war to end all wars”
and the founding and failure of the League of Nations. Theirs was the first theological generation to
be confronted with the challenges of the nuclear age.
The “cold war” during their Harvard years marked
the beginning of the end of the modern era, when
absolute appeals to national sovereignty had to be
modified by the transnational impact of nuclear deterrents, proving once again that technological advances in weaponry and communications trigger
greater revolutionary seriousness about peacemaking than might otherwise occur.6
In politics, Tillich became an early advocate of
religious socialism.7 Whereas his father’s generation
equated socialism with atheism, he considered it a
necessary but not sufficient attempt to meet basic
human needs that, if neglected, leave people vulnerable to the promises of demagogues.8 Among survivors of World War I, those in Europe who considered themselves in the Aryan vanguard of evolution
or the first wave of “the proletarian revolution” were
idolizing dictatorial leaders. Some used social Darwinism to justify a state policy of racial and class
“cleansing.”9 Theistic apologists co-opted religion to
support tyrants who projected their hostility onto
enemy others.10 Overwhelming majorities in both
Germany and Russia locked step with bureaucrats
who enlisted ill-educated youths to become martyrs
for the Fatherland or the Party.11 Tillich’s was the
first generation to question seriously the modern as-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
sumption that Christianity entails historic, irreversible progress towards global civilization.
1. Doing Systematic Theology in a Secular World
Tillich came to prominence when world events
forced theologians to think ecumenically beyond the
confines of traditional congregations and privileged
classrooms. As an army chaplain during World War
I, he came to know working-class conscripts and
understand why they dismissed the church as an institution of and for the bourgeois establishment.
Many of their leaders were Marxists. Recovering
from what we now call “post-traumatic stress disorder,” he returned to the Bohemian ethos of Berlin to
find his bride pregnant by his best friend. Later, as a
Dean of Arts in Frankfurt, he faced down Nazi students demanding the dismissal of his Jewish colleagues. The student mob’s ignorance and disdain
for others made him forever alert to the importance
of general education in the Humanities. To Nazis,
the enemy aliens were biblical theists, both Jews and
Christians, who denied the absolute value of their
sacred homeland and its Führer.12 By contrast, Tillich, Bonhoeffer, and other Prussians were secure
about their German origins and Christian heritage.13
To them the dangerous “others” were heresy-hunting
crypto-pagans.14 Tillich’s challenge to himself in
despair was to articulate reasons to affirm meaningful ways of life, when traditional religious responses
rang hollow.
Tillich’s abiding academic importance is that he
appropriated for mainstream Protestant theology a
post-Hegelian emphasis on existential dynamics in
the history of religion and culture. He incorporated
insights from Marx, Freud, and Nietzsche into mainstream theology. His definition of religion, as “that
which concerns me ultimately or unconditionally”
(das mihr unbedingt angeht), has as its referencepoint a collective intuition of the ultimate source of
life that can never be contained in any dogmatic
definition, political platform or scientific formula.15
What makes religion religious by this definition is
its focus on basic priorities. Religious thinking is
priority thinking. Systematic theology is critical
thinking about the priorities of worshipping theistic
communities. What makes them theological is their
confession that intuition of “the unconditional” is
not a human construct of finite ideas multiplied to
mathematical infinity, as Feuerbach assumed. It is a
response to divine grace.16 The relevant dynamics
are those of human agents resonating to a shared
7
sense of qualitatively different spiritual movements,
cosmic in scope yet individually registered.
In philosophy, Tillich regarded Schelling rather
than Hegel as the precursor of existential demythologizing. Instead of Hegel’s triumphant march of
the Holy Spirit in “world” history, or Kierkegaard’s
lonely leap of faith, Schelling posited “the demonic”
in “the divine” as the basis of vital processes forming our natural identity and driving us to realize
freedom in history. Tracing the demonic in history is
a legacy from the biblical prophetic tradition, revived in secular form by the Marxists.
In the history of ontology, what is striking about
Schelling and other German Classical Idealists, insufficiently noticed by theologians, is how thoroughly they emphasized dynamics over form. When
Tillich characterized religion as the substance and
culture as the form of our ways of life, not vice
versa, that reflected a significant reversal of traditional thinking. It undercut the classical assumption
of dogmaticians that their job is to unpack eternal
truths. Among Platonistic Church Fathers and their
successors, the Bible was mined for timeless axioms.17 Conservative Protestant exegetes still follow
their Hellenistic tradition. Modern fundamentalists
added Newtonian physics to their repertoire of
God’s timeless truths. By contrast, Tillich’s conception of salvation-history privileged the prophetic
Hebrew proclamation of timely truths.
Against fundamentalists of all stripes, Tillich
drew on his Lutheran-Augustinian tradition of faith
seeking understanding, not the “pure” reason of transcendental deduction favored by post-Kantians.18 His
Augustinian-Platonic starting-point was introspective awareness of the “depth dimension” of
grounded being and a hierarchical sense of being and
value, construed as a dialectical synthesizing of material and spiritual factors, as we live under the umbrella of divine grace.19 Priority goes to the spirit
rather than the letter of Scriptural texts.
It follows from Tillich’s definition of religion
that the primary issue for theology is not whether
some supernatural agent called “god” exists, as if
god-talk is what makes anyone religious. The issue
is whether what is truly “unconditional” is what actually governs our ways of life and informs religious
language. Is it really the unequivocal source of truth,
beauty, and goodness that governs our endeavors in
the last resort? To give contemporary answers to this
question we need to study the history of religions as
well as philosophy. Under the heading of “comparative religion,” he discussed the “quasi-religions” of
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
National Socialism and modern capitalism, acknowledging the secularizing cultural impact of scientifically oriented worldviews. Among these, he
preferred those attuned to the life sciences over those
privileging mechanistic talk of sub-structures and
super-structures (See ST II, 6-7, 66; SD 115, 133).
The choice of what is unconditional was not for
Tillich a matter of personal taste or private preference. It is an ontological conclusion concerning finitude, to be argued for philosophically on the basis of
living symbols that enable us to participate cognitively in what frames this-worldly interactions. According to him, truly unconditional is the God beyond the “god” depicted in many theologies. Theological language must always be construed dialectically, that is, saying both Yes and No to how different readers unpack what they mean.20 In question are
existential, not factual, constraints on our current
potential (To.P.). 168-170). As successive generations articulate these differently, “world” history is a
major source of data for comparative thinking (PE,
237–9).
Modern scholars acknowledge many academic
disciplines—physics, biology, anthropology, psychology, and so on. Their moves from one discipline
to another reflect their assumptions about levels or
dimensions of being and awareness, using “bottomup” or “top-down” thinking, from material to immaterial modes or vice versa.21 The existentialists’ reaction against scientistic positivism led “dialectical
theologians,” including Tillich, to look for more realistic expectations for life in the modern, alienated
world and to ask what criteria should govern the decisions required of us, as individuals and citizens of
nation-states, working for reconciliation among warring classes and peoples. He highlighted decisive
“leaps” to “higher” or “deeper” dimensions of being
and becoming, rather than deductions based on laws
supposedly governing the march of history (ST III
327, SD 101-3)
In dialogue with leading social and natural scientists in his university, Tillich adopted a conception
of successive stages of becoming from inorganic,
through organic, to personal and spiritual modes of
interaction (ST III, 342-4; CB, 95).22 He showed his
Platonic roots (and the Romantic legacy) by naming
eros the moving force of history and, in history,
making political concerns predominant over social,
economic, cultural, and religious ones (SD 25, 88,
150-2).23 The more personal the determining precedents are, he argued, the more individual human decisions about ultimate meaning inform the histories
8
addressed by philosophers and theologians. The
more spirited the precedents for actions originating
with ourselves are, the less deterministic the laws of
history can be (ST III; 313-326, LPJ, 41—
compulsion). Our conceptions of precedents (causes)
and the bases for different identities surviving the
accidents of history (substances) must be adjusted
when appraising different kinds of subjects and objects in space-time. Spatial relations are primary in
descriptions of inorganic matter. Temporal concerns
are primary for accounts of human affairs.
Dialectical thinking belongs at the spiritual end
of the scale, as the way to understand ontology,
which maps abstractly the substantive, dynamic
processes of human experience. “The” ontological
question is “Why is there something rather than
nothing?” The dialectically least misleading philosophical, non-mythological answer is based on
experiencing “the shock of non-being,” which led
Tillich to refer to God as Being-itself, Life, Spirit,
and, most emphatically, as “not-not-being,” established by “the undeniable fact that there is something
and not nothing.”24
In The Courage to Be, the priority of existential
dynamics over essential form is evident in the way
Tillich reworked conceptions of the hierarchy of being.25 He differentiated among decisions regarding
physical, moral, and ideological or spiritual levels or
dimensions of becoming. Courage is required on all
levels, because finite existence is always under
threat, relative or absolute, due to sickness or death,
degrees of guilt, and loss of meaning for some or all
of our working assumptions.26 Which dimension of
existence is culturally dominant, and when, depends
on both individual circumstances and the times in
which we live. The ideological/spiritual dimension is
implicitly “highest” insofar as it includes our sense
of the meaning of anything and everything.
To curb totalitarian arrogance, Tillich advocated
“the Protestant Principle” learned from the Hebrew
prophets, who taught that, in the final analysis, only
God is king. It arms us against prelates and politicians who consider their edicts infallible.27 Correcting theological misapprehensions is prerequisite to
formulating concrete political programs for times
between the “whence” of our common origins and
the “whither” of our common destiny. In The Socialist Decision, he explained that, unlike “essence,”
which evokes a Platonic logic of eternal forms, the
“word principle is used to refer to the summarizing
characterization of a political group” (SD, 9). Principles focus our thinking on critical features of spe-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
cific eras without going into copious detail. The
classical contrast between eternal ideas and temporal
appearances abstracts too generally from actual
events.
Principles guide concrete, historical movements
in distinctive eras. They aid our understanding of the
essential character and direction of “new and unexpected realizations” of original situations. Examples
are the Protestant Principle, for post-Reformation
developments in modern Europe, and the Socialist
Principle, as definitive of what Tillich hoped might
become a majority political dynamic in the twentieth
century (SD, 10). The Protestant era followed on
Luther’s courageous challenge to Catholicism in the
sixteenth century. Lutheran eschatological dualism
regarding “the Kingdom of God and the demonic
powers which stand against it” holds “the secular
world…immediate to God” in a way neglected by
mysticism and ecclesial supernaturalism.28
The Socialist Principle, on Tillich’s rendering, is
a Christian version of the Marx-inspired movement
to supersede bourgeois capitalism by inaugurating a
“classless society” (SD 58-63). In the nineteenth
century, class struggles had revived awareness of the
demonic dynamic in history suppressed by Enlightenment belief in harmonizing progress (To.P., 35 re
demonic); Tillich hoped that his generation’s “kairos” was for religious socialism as Luther’s was for
Protestantism (To.P., 40).29 His concern for temporal
specificity perhaps explains why he named it the
Protestant Principle and not the Prophetic Principle.
Tillich wrote The Socialist Decision in 1932
with Heidegger and Nietzsche very much in mind.
He set an example of how theologians and religious
philosophers may appeal to all people to co-operate
in developing a sense of global community, while
maintaining different ideological positions. Like
Barth, his own identity was rooted in an avowedly
Protestant appeal to the Bible in a way not shared by
other Christians, other religious leaders and nonreligious critical theorists. But, against Barth, Tillich
maintained that ontology can provide intellectual
common ground across cultures. His dialectics required him to incorporate insights from other disciplines.30
His sense of existential dialectics led Tillich to
develop a new way of doing systematic theology. He
noted that each cultural epoch generates questions
for exponents of dominant ideologies. In response to
them, Christian theologians question unexamined
presuppositions of their embedded cultures. How
questions are framed affects which answers will be
9
heeded. Questions and answers should go both ways,
even though theologians are often expected to deduce eternally correct answers from the dogmatic
traditions of their denominations. In America, he
attributed his dialectical way of being systematic to
what a teaching assistant called “the method of correlation.”31 This label for dialectical, bipolar theologizing thereafter became his theological trademark.32
However named, the method encourages dialogue
with non-theists.
In Christian theology, comprehensive systematic
answers relate to: (1) how we know the religious
dimension in life, (2) how Christians conceive of
divine and human being, (3) how the biblical record
of Jesus’ life makes concrete the universal scope of
divine power, (4) how in real life we rely on this
power of being and becoming, and (5) how our realizations of this “Spirit” make history and what realistic hopes we have, despite disappointments, for
our future. These are the topics treated in this order
in Tillich’s three-volume Systematic Theology. Systematicians check whether the theological answers to
one set of questions are consistent with answers to
the others. Apologetic theologians, in the good
sense, examine ways in which each generation
makes connections among its questions and answers
with their contemporary cultures. While principles
have some lasting validity, conclusions are never
perfect or final for the next generation. His theology
was at times apologetic, systematic, biblical, historical, and philosophical.33
In theory, we could start with any question and
answer from any sub-division of systematic theology, since each implies all the rest. In dialogue with
mid-twentieth century North American linguistic
analysts, Tillich found no interest among them in
critical theory and Marxism. Because their challenges concerned meaning and knowing in the light
of modern science, he began Volume One of his
Systematics with the doctrines of revelation and God
as Creator. This left detailed consideration of the
doctrine of the Spirit, the interpretation of history,
and eschatological hope, for the last volume. An unintended consequence was that his conception of
God as “Being itself” in Volume One received much
more critical scrutiny than his more foundational
conception of God as Spirit, expounded in Volume
Three.34
As noted in Chapter Four above, when articulating their theological priorities, narrative theologians
critical of Tillich privilege biblical history over Hellenistic ontologies.35 In the heyday of neo-orthodoxy,
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
some of my Harvard classmates questioned whether
Tillich’s theology was “really” Christian, given his
apparently divided loyalties between biblical foundations and secular culture.36 They missed the import
of his self-designation as “neo-dialectical” (PE,
xxviii). In fact, he was always a mainline Protestant
who located his seminal propositions inside “the circle of revelation” recorded in the Bible (ST I, 8-11,
106-115). But, in Robert Slater’s sense (see Chapter
Two), he was never a “subscriptionist” insisting on
only his own denomination’s reading of Scripture.
By comparison with Karl Barth’s Church Dogmatics, Tillich’s Systematic Theology is so compact because he relied on dialectical ontology, when flagging issues regarding Christianity and culture. Narratively, as with Barth, these would require much
more extensive unpacking.
Twentieth century existential theologians agreed
that any move into a circle of faith requires conscious commitment.37 Faith comes first. This was not
for them an impediment to dialogue, since dialogue
was their way of inquiring into others’ equally personal commitments grounded in differing traditions.
In Buber’s version of post-Kantian philosophy, dialogue is predicated on “I-Thou” relationships. For
Tillich, what was not a matter of choice were the
ontological presuppositions articulated in expressions of the foundational polarities of being in relationship. These informed his theory of symbolic usage, which always presupposed his conception of the
reality of Spirit in history.38
The ecumenical movement after World War II
nourished hopes for church union among Protestants
and respect for Catholic and other religious traditions. Part of the dialectic was between articulating
denominational positions congruent with the current
historical situation and addressing them to all Christians, whose message was supposedly true of and for
all humanity. (The Lund principle is to do together
what best we do together and alone what best we do
alone.) As noted in earlier chapters, the impulse for
the ecumenical movement came mostly from the
overseas mission experience of people like Robert
Slater, Wilfred Smith, and their teachers.39 Modern
encounters with “other” religions raised apologetic
questions for theologians about claims to uniqueness
and exclusivity, which required radical rethinking
about the role of religion in society. Prior to his dialogues with Zen masters in his later years, Tillich’s
conception of other religious traditions was mostly
theoretical.40
10
Key to Tillich’s version of Augustinianism was
his conception of giving priority to dynamics over
form in his treatment of religion and culture, by reorienting all references to eternity. Giving priority to
dynamics means that what is substantive is a temporal movement embodying our priorities. Any reference to what transcends finite conditions is not to
timelessly constructive “Ideas,” as for Christian Platonists, but to an ontologically higher order of temporality which includes our times.41 Such “higher”
temporal ordering encompasses the possibility of our
self-destruction, but also the possibility of restorative new creations. Powers of being are powers of
becoming. Among times, moments of fulfillment
give us glimpses of aspired ends (To.P., 40-6).
Whether one calls “transcendent being” divine
or not is a secondary, historical question. What matters is the confession that we cannot save ourselves,
whether we construe “salvation” in supernaturalist or
naturalistic terms. The existential problem needing
solution is systemic. Theological explanations of this
by reference to original sin, stemming from
Augustine, still tend to carry his dated and flawed
genetic presuppositions, deflecting attention from
the sinful social structures which preoccupied Tillich’s generation.42 What is theologically important
is the Augustinian insistence on the qualitative difference between divine and human being, when asking what makes a new future possible for people in
need of forgiveness.
A post-Kantian account of the spatio-temporal
nexus frames all such critical analyses by reference
to what, in Tillich’s idiom, is “trans-spatial”, “transtemporal”, “trans-causal” and “trans-substantive.”
We cannot say directly what “the” transcendent is.
Bad theology construes eternity as unending duration in space-time and divine being as just one greatest kind of substance among many (ST III, 399-400,
415). What is symbolized in talk of eternal life is a
qualitative, not a quantitative, change in conceptions
of the world to come. As pointed out by Robert Slater and many others, what is experienced by those
responding to what they deem the “transcendent”
Ground of Being is often said to be “ineffable.” Asking for unqualified objective descriptions of any
such “ultimate” referent neglects the significance of
this point.
Regarding the demonic in history, the age-old
question is whether the origin of evil lies in material
or spiritual conditions or a combination of these.
Augustine’s insight was that our potential for evil is
the greater the more god-like and spirited we are.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
What brings lasting value to life is our power to be
and become ourselves with others in community.
Flourishing in life requires more than food and shelter. Contrary to the dualism postulated by
Manicheans, he construed the doctrine of creation
out of nothing to mean that the nothingness of evil is
due to a primal falling away from our inescapably
spiritual, life-giving God/Truth-relationship, which
is the only viable basis for order in any historical
community, even among “barbarians.” We are responsible agents, not complex machines. Our spiritual capacities make us of greater worth than others
but fallible and, therefore, of greater danger to others. Not what limits us but what allows us to imagine
that we can ever be unlimited puts us on a slippery
slope to demonic self-destruction. Evil is a parasitic
perversion of creaturely powers of being. It is only
reversible by divine grace, whereby the demonic is
made to serve divine purposes.43
Tillich’s starting-point was his German Lutheran
ethos. His ontological unpacking of it was radical
because of the priority given to dynamics over form
in conceptions of grace and the political power of
the demonic for better and for worse in history.44 He
applied Luther’s doctrine of justification by grace to
his own trauma after World War I. Building on
Pauline insights regarding the role of the
Law/Torah,45 Luther maintained that temptation as
such is not necessarily evil but part of divinely “demonic” creativity. Whether any given move proves
to be finally creative or destructive depends on our
participating in a more encompassing affirmation of
grace for all concerned, grounded in our common
origins and ultimate ends.
In this life, Lutheran ethics emphasizes our vocation to be secular saints here and now, not having
minds set on life elsewhere. Accepting ourselves as
God accepts us, as we are and might now become,
estranged but becoming reconciled, is foundational
for living authentically at peace with ourselves and
our world.46 Our “intra-historical” aim is to realize
the reign of the Christ even now in a way that breaks
the destructive power of all demonic drives. Our
“supra-historical” aim is to anticipate realizing the
universality of God’s rule in such a way as to transcend all historical negations of it (To.P., 36-7). Although less helpful for generating pragmatic proposals for peace-making, the Protestant Principle has
fresh interest for comparative theologians, I believe,
because Muslim prophetic traditions, as contrasted
with the priestly traditions of other “world religions,” have become such an important factor in
11
global politics in the twenty-first century. I shall return to this possibility below.
In human history, according to Tillich, we do
not earn freedom from the consequences of past failures. Rather, in spite of lost opportunities, in moments of creative crisis (“kairos”), we are given
timely new possibilities that enable us to participate
in life-enhancing relationships essential to our future
health (e.g., To.P., 37). Reference to divine being, in
his usage, follows from confessing that, in this
world, the laws of becoming are not mechanistically
determined but graciously inspired impulses to fulfilling ways of life. Where there are higher forms of
life, remedial action turns on enlisting willing cooperation from those who are alienated from their own
“essential” selves, their neighbours, their environment and the very essence of all being. A theological
axiom is that, in relation to moral agents, God’s
“will” is not coercive but empowering (LPJ, 46-8,
67, 114)—”love does not enforce salvation.”)
Tillich’s contribution was and is due, not to his
mostly “inclusivist” response to other traditions,47
but to his combination of apologetic and systematic
theology in a way that acknowledges global issues
without sacrificing denominational identity. On the
apologetic front, his expertise was in classical humanism, depth psychology, existential philosophy,
and expressionist art. His own baseline was always
German Classical Idealism, especially Schelling, in
philosophy, and German Lutheranism, in theology,
on the latter acknowledging debts to Ernst Troeltsch
on mysticism and Martin Kähler on the Christ of
faith. While ostensibly balancing his articulation of
“the Protestant Principle” with “the Catholic substance” of Christian praxis, his account of the latter
was admittedly underdeveloped. The sacrament most
important to him was the sacrament of preaching the
Word.48 (In his early days, he equated sacramentalism with paganism (To.P., 40). I shall argue below
that his position needs to be augmented by the sense
of sacramental universe that Robert Slater imbibed
from Archbishop William Temple.
Giving meaning to our existence is the high calling of philosophers of religion. Dogging critical discussion have been essentialistic theories of meaning
and truth that allow for only one right version of
events. Despite his dynamic ontology, Tillich, like
Wilfred Smith, still defined basic terms according to
the essentialist/classicist conventions of their humanistic education, making “root” meanings normative for all subsequent usage. However, Tillich’s
stress on symbolic rather than literal meaning en-
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abled him to allow for the fluidity of ideas expressed
in living language. He insisted that all God-talk is
metaphorical. “Father,” for instance, can be a potent
symbol in religious discourse because, at its best,
fathering “participates” in the reality of nurturing
relationships fostered by divine creativity. But fathering can inhibit mature independence. Any fixed
idea of fatherhood must be broken to allow us to
adjust to new conditions and develop new customs.
The dynamics of faith are deepened by doubting and
breaking hardened formulations of what creation and
parenting are about.49 We should develop a more
historically critical theory of being and becoming
than the absolute monism or dualism of Hellenistic
classicists and a more constructivist philosophy of
language than that of Idealists, ancient and modern.
The theological challenge after Freud and
Nietzsche is how to construe New Testament portraits of God, despite God’s wrath, as enabling, not
disabling. The primary biblical model is of divinely
royal parenting. Where Augustine stressed the eternity of divine decrees, Tillich concentrated on the
mind-opening effect of future possibilities. The vital
depths plumbed by Kierkegaard’s account of dread
are of what might not be. Better to sin and perhaps
be saved than not to become ourselves, however sinfully. Against the negative impact on our imaginations of dealing with strangers in an uncertain world,
only a stronger power of being, divineencompassing-demonic, not supra-human so much
as unconfined by the limitations of egocentrism, can
call us to act on the peace which passes all understanding with sufficient power, love and justice to
transform negatives into positive opportunities for
ourselves and others.
2. The Courage to Make Peace
In Tillich’s judgment, the religious mistake of
much quasi-religion is the same as that of false religion, putting penultimate concerns in the place of
what truly confronts us with unconditional demands.
Such idolatry vitiates much organized religion, not
just secular culture.50 The result in his time was to
give de facto absolute priority to consumer capitalism in America and to the Fatherland in Nazi Germany. While abstract arguments about what is truly
so turn on the disputants’ ontological presuppositions, what makes the definition of religion necessarily theological is his monotheistic attention to idolatry. By his analysis, our necessarily symbolic and
existentially self-involving embodiments of the dy-
12
namics of life are religious, or “quasi-religious,” because they are articulations of the depth dimensions
of reality. As such, they are apt material for theological criticism from those “inside” the circle of
revelation.
When he insisted against Marx and Hitler on
giving socialism a religious foundation, Tillich understood himself to be laying a theological framework for political thinking, not proposing a specific
party platform (PE, 41-2). His interest was in global
strategy, not tactical maneuvers. Expectation of fulfilling our created and creative possibilities, at least
partially, informs the character of national and international politics. What counts are not specific ideas
for how the future may unfold but the principles that
govern our adjustment to changing times and places.
Theologically, his religious usage was informed by
his Lutheran appropriation of the Augustinian tradition, combining Schelling’s insistence on the demonic with Luther’s insight into the creative role of
temptation, when realizing our vocation to be Christians in this world.
Tillich’s political thinking followed from his
interpretation of history.51 His early academic orientation was to post-Hegelian, dialectical readings of
global history. But World War I shocked many of
his generation into taking dialectical materialism
seriously.52 The Nazis’ appeal to the supposedly genetic superiority of “the master race” sent them
searching for conceptions more plausibly grounded
in scientific theories of evolution. As noted above,
except among dogmatic Marxists, confidence in cultural progress was shattered. Tillich’s espousal of
religious socialism was his contribution to the debate
in Germany over Nazi, Bolshevik, and other political
philosophies. The Socialist Principle, as he expounded it, gave a Marxist reading to Kant’s injunction to treat people as ends in themselves, never only
as means.53 On the economic front, it advocated
“material” justice. Against dictatorships, it promoted
recognition of universal human rights (To.P., 54).
The bookends of critical historical thinking for
Tillich are answers to the questions “Whence?” and
“Whither?” concerning our identity-forming cultures. Bourgeois intellectuals had appealed to our
common origins to justify rejection of aristocratic
feudalism. Socialists built on and corrected this appeal, while looking ahead towards ending class warfare. They proposed a common future in a welfare
state. After World War I and the Great Depression,
many intellectuals, including Tillich, Robert Slater,
and Wilfred Cantwell Smith (see Chapters Two and
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Three), took “the socialist decision.” In his presentations of this, Tillich consistently reverted to a Christian humanist stress on the foundational ideas for a
theology of politics that he considered essential in
our “post-Protestant” era (To.P., 53) xxx
As a religious socialist, Tillich advocated a
combination of mutually corrective and provocative
symbols drawn from the young Marx’s egalitarian
humanism and from prophetic biblical eschatology.
To the Protestant work ethic, Enlightenment rationalism had added laissez-faire economics, from which
all of us supposedly benefit, and political liberalism,
with its embedded belief in natural harmony, supposedly flowing automatically during liberal régimes. In actual practice, workers and indigenous
peoples overseas were treated as commodities. What
ensued was class warfare and colonial unrest. Tillich
looked to a combination of the Protestant Principle
and “the Socialist Principle” to give sufficient religious grounding to secular visions of “the classless
society.” Religious expectations, in his broad sense,
harness demonic energies in the service of realizing
global community, which is the antithesis of modern
nationalistic hegemonies (ToP 52) In the twentieth
century, he argued, the Socialist Principle negates
“the Bourgeois Principle” of consumer capitalism.
The relevant political history is the history of
groups with a sense of vocation as peoples, not just a
sum of individual biographies. A nation’s moral and
religious character is discerned from its guiding
principles. Tillich applied his Lutheran conception
of calling to the history of national ambitions, of the
Greeks to civilize barbarians, of the Romans to establish the rule of law, of the Americans inviting
immigrants to start afresh in the new world, and so
on. The Germans failed when they lost their Christian sense of vocation inherited from the Holy Roman Empire (ST III, 330-1, ToP 170) Our global
political aim should be to participate in an international or multi-national community, about which,
however, we learn mostly negative lessons from history.
Tillich’s own formative history was that of his
native Germany. To be defeated twice in one lifetime, he often remarked, was especially hard for
those educated to believe in their own cultural superiority. Broadcasting for the Voice of America at
Easter, 1944, he told listeners that, by denying that
they had been defeated after World War I, the Germans had squandered the opportunity to learn from
their experience. Renewal could never happen under
the Nazis. They were counting on technical superior-
13
ity to win and failed to appreciate the spiritual resilience of their defeated opponents. Calculating only
in I-It terms was fatal. Christian hope is based on the
promise of God’s ever-new creation, not the genius
of heroes. Yet the possibility of resurrection, not just
for individuals, but also for the Germans as a nation,
was still open to them.54
Peacemaking is a collective challenge. During
times of global unrest, in Tillich’s idiom, it requires
both the courage to be ourselves as individuals and
the courage to participate in communities in this
world without losing ourselves. Neither is possible
without the ever renewed divine impetus to be reconciled with ourselves, our neighbours and our
world, that is, theologically speaking, consciously or
not, impossible without justification by grace
through faith. In global history, the confluence of
positive and negative factors makes certain times
especially auspicious for new initiatives. In theological terms, the question is: if our time coincides
with God’s time in a unique way (a “kairos”), what
is the political calling of inspired groups among us
to transform present demonic drives into creative
new realizations of God’s rule for all? (re kairos
e.g.Top 39-40) The most recent instance for Tillichians of such a “kairos” is the ending of apartheid in
South Africa.55
Achieving peace internationally requires creative political decision-making. Historically, nations
do not make decisions. Individuals do. In politics,
power blocs unite behind charismatic leaders. (ST III
329-333) Public education is directed to inducting
the younger generation into the ideologies of influential groups (e.g. SD 24) What are communicated
are not abstract concepts and scientific data, but
secular and religious symbols of future expectations
engaging the whole person (SD 147-8) One role of
theology is to critique assumptions behind our
choices of symbols. A challenge for modern theologians is to translate their religious message into
secular idioms accessible to significant others.56
To the post-World War II generation in Europe
and North America, as illustrated by Sartre, the existential meaningfulness or meaninglessness of their
ideologies was of paramount importance, though
questions of physical survival and morality are also
always present (CtoB 143-4 on Sartre) For Tillich
the major disciplinary insights into the courage to be
came from depth psychology and existentialist philosophy. Against dialectical materialism and
Hegelian idealism, he advocated “belief-ful realism,” taking due note of material conditions and the
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
systemic effect of human failures (SD xxxvi)57 Unreal is any interpretation of history which neglects
the demonic. The Protestant Principle is aimed more
at the fear of failure than at realizing on earth as
much of the coming Kingdom as possible.58
Following the massive destruction of people and
property during World War II, many realized that a
new world order would have to be established (ToP
re genuine hope 179-181) There was guilt on all
sides. All must rely on spiritual, not just material
resources, Tillich insisted, if they were to learn from
their past. By dehumanizing others, the Nazis had
dehumanized themselves (ToP 51, 117). They must
be totally defeated before the German people could
recover their place in European politics. What gave
him hope was that, while the Allies had announced
that leaders responsible for wartime atrocities would
be brought to justice and tried as criminals, the Allies finally decided not to seek revenge by imposing
punitive sanctions on the defeated nations, as they
had after World War I. (He did not know that Germany would be divided into East and West.)59
To hold individuals responsible before an international tribunal, Tillich pointed out, was an historic
rejection of evasive appeals to national sovereignty.
Carrying out orders of superior officers would no
longer be accepted as a valid excuse for committing
crimes against humanity. The judgment would be on
each to the extent that he or she was considered responsible. What was important was the international
precedent. Just establishing the authority of a world
court was a major step towards making peace. 60
Calls to establish a world government were unrealistic.61 The idea of national sovereignty was and is too
entrenched among the political majority (SD 86-7)
The subsequent conflict between capitalist and
communist federations was kept to a “cold” war only
because leaders on both sides were persuaded that a
nuclear holocaust would prove suicidal.
Making peace requires faith and hope. By highlighting courage rather than faith, Tillich underscored the point that each historic move is not just a
matter of intellectual analysis. It is a risky existential
decision for which we are all morally responsible, at
least in part. He applied Luther’s sense of being
saints in spite of being sinners to our realization of
existential courage. We must find the courage to
make peace in spite of despair over finding any adequate and universally acceptable philosophy or religion. The dynamics of faith drives individuals beyond
credulity in response to doubts about our selves, our
traditions (including our religions), and our world.
14
Becoming ourselves as parts of larger wholes is very
much a function of the courage to be in this world.
‘World’ means Lebenswelt, in Heidegger’s
sense, not just a collection of physical objects (e.g.
PE 239) Global history is of union, reunion, alienation and reconciliation, as we are moved to become
ourselves in relationships in all dimensions of our
being (LPJ 22-5) Historical achievements are always
more fragmentary and incomplete than Hegel supposed. Most worrisome to existential philosophers
and theologians were the dehumanizing side-effects
of the technological underpinnings and mass marketing practices of modern economies, to the point
where moral concerns are deemed irrelevant by political decision-makers.62 News media tell us who
today’s mass murderers are, for instance, but not
who manufactures their weapons or allows them to
acquire them. Individuals are pilloried while systemic evils go unchallenged. The temptation is to
lose ourselves in anonymous crowds.
From biblical times, the Christian symbol for the
end of history has been the Kingdom of God. Tillich
was adamant that the coming Kingdom is a symbol
for ultimate fulfillment, not a literally anticipated
historical objective (ST III, 357-361, 364, 375, 3903) The negative qualifications are so dominant that
one wonders, at times, whether his expectations
were akin to those of Waiting for Godot.63 But the
symbol of the coming Kingdom is not a “mere”
symbol. It participates in, while not exhausting, the
cosmic reality of our global future. Its spatial and
temporal connotations express the political dimensions of our collective hope. The reference is necessarily eschatological, to what frames global history,
not to something fully realizable.
For Christians, the “center of history” is Jesus as
the Christ overcoming the historic “split” between
our essence and existence mythologically traced
back to Adam.64 We live now in two orders of being,
where all flesh is grass, yet, by the power of God’s
promise, we may run and not be weary (Isaiah 40,
SH 12-23) Because admission to God’s Kingdom is
by invitation, not coercion, and many more decline
their invitations than accept, global peace is only
ever more or less realized in different times and
places. Twentieth century events warrant a tragic
reading of modern history.
Tillich’s advocacy for religious socialism ended
in disappointment and, in America, he mostly left
political theology to his colleague Reinhold Niebuhr.65 He endorsed various Christian positions on
nuclear deterrence, but not nuclear pacifism, main-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
taining that pacifism could only be a policy chosen
for and by individuals, not one that Christian
churches could or should urge on non-Christians
(ToP 16, 19-20, 73-4,136). His main contribution
was to the articulation of principles, based on comparative critical assessments of secular expectations
for our future, drawing on both the findings of modern science and the classical wisdom of the Humanities, including the history of religions.
3. Creative and Restorative Justice
People worldwide share a vision of global harmony, Tillich believed, because the same
Word/Logos imbues common human wisdom. But it
is a mistake to assume that similar versions of the
Golden Rule, found in most cultures, constitute a
basis for world peace. The rule glosses over ambiguities in historical existence. Good intentions are
not enough. Some sense of spiritually higher demands is a necessary part of our experience. Our
ideas of what is good are often flawed, reflecting
alienation from self and world (LPJ 79) Effective
critiques of these are conveyed by the central symbols of our traditions.66 In modern Occidental culture, acknowledging every individual as a person,
for instance, is a valid formal principle articulated in
Kantian ethics. But it only gains content from human
experience cultivated by quite different conceptions
of law, tradition, conscience and public authority in
the course of our history (LPJ 80).
Most important for Tillich is what is on the
spiritual end of the hierarchy of being, where ought
becomes is and our essential humanity defines the
promise of existence. What we learn from the sciences and social sciences is viewed from the perspective of divine wisdom. As William Temple remarked, we cannot change the past, but we can
change our valuation of it. Our experience of what is
truly eternal may be fleeting, but that experience
transforms our existential context.67 Where there is
greater risk of destruction there are also greater possibilities of creative development. When at an impasse, Tillich concluded, a community must break
through its fixation on traditional expectations and
conventional wisdom to imagine a fresh future for
both friends and enemies.
Cultural breakthroughs occur in response to
revelation. The final and definitive revelation in history for Tillich the theologian is of Jesus as the
Christ. It entails rejection of Jewish and every other
form of nationalism and cultural imperialism (SD
15
20-1) Jesus inaugurates new creation for all but, under present and foreseeable future conditions, only
fragmentarily. God has infinite freedom. Inanimate
matter has no freedom. But because human “essence” is of finite freedom, destined to err, we only
fully realize God’s peace “supra-historically.” (e.g.,
ST I 165-8, 238, 255; II 6-10, 130, 135-8; III 317321) Satanic power within history has in principle
been defeated. The new creation is of “the New Being” realized in “the Christ Event” which overcomes
existential estrangement from self and others, not in
abstract theory but in real, morally ambiguous history.68 But present experience is still ambiguous.
Preaching on Galatians 6:15—“For neither circumcision counts for anything nor uncircumcision,
but a new creation”—Tillich equated all religions,
including Christianity, with “circumcision” and
atheistic secularity with uncircumcision. The Christ
is God’s judgment on all religion. The Cross of
Christ reveals that God’s power is not coercive, but
also that the condemnation of Jesus by religious and
civil authorities is itself condemned in a way that
forever destroys demonic nationalism and creates the
possibility of ultimate forgiveness. (LPJ 113-5)
For Tillich, we recall, symbols participate in the
reality symbolized. They cannot be invented. They
grow out of histories and inform cultures. They fit
the facts of life in such ways that, through them, we
grow into new worlds of meaning, of which they are
focal parts. They galvanize us into action to affirm
new relationships. Such is the Cross.69 Its power as a
central symbol for Christianity through the centuries
is its epitomizing of priorities, reminding martyrs in
every age that God’s peace on earth is worth dying
for. The crucial move is Jesus sacrificing his finite
human expectations for God’s New Israel in Palestine and trusting that the Spirit will lead to renewal
in a way that makes the divine transforming the demonic a real possibility for all (e.g. ST II 111, 123)
The divine-human promise of fore-giveness in his
name is the Christly response to universal estrangement. It prompts individual as well as collective
penitence.
In the last chapter we noted George Lindbeck’s
critique of Wilfred Smith’s and Paul Tillich’s “experiential-expressivist” hermeneutics of the biblical
message as undercutting “belief-ful-realism.” However, in Tillich’s case, this misses what he valued
about expressionist art.70 This is relevant because for
him most revelatory in the New Testament is the
“portrait” of Jesus passed on by the apostles. He declared that Picasso’s Guernica was one of the most
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Protestant paintings in the twentieth century because
it drove home the horrors of war, in a culture increasingly complacent about belligerent nationalism
and bombing civilian targets (OAA 95-6). Unlike
documentary positivism, it exposes the “split” between what we are meant to be, in creation, and what
we are, in history. Picasso’s art does not help us to
imagine a new way to peace. But it opens us to respond to the “depth dimension” of divinely inspired
love, willing the good of both our own people and
our enemies. What is revealed on the Cross does not
change the data studied in physics and physiology.
After resurrection, the world looks the same. But the
forgiveness pronounced enables reconciliation of the
otherwise unreconciled. Expression in this dimension means self-transcendence (LPJ 54). In Buberian
terms, ideal I-You encounters become real enough to
justify hope that this new meaning in our lives is
indestructible. It validates the courage to be.
Jesus, Mahatma Gandhi, and Martin Luther
King Jr., all waged political campaigns against the
vested interests of their day in such a way that they
inspired others to implement their ideas and embody
their values. They did not seek death, but refused to
stop preaching when threatened with death. Their
Spirit/spirits live on, resurrected in the movements
they began in God’s name. What their pragmatic
followers instituted were less than perfect programs
and institutions. The move from coming Kingdom to
Catholic Church or from Hindu Swaraj to the modern state of India dismays idealists. But each inaugural vision remains an inspirational benchmark for
later statesmen and reformers.71
More important than documentary realism or
specific answers, Tillich insisted, are the questions
raised by great art (OAA 191). Dialectically, existential negatives direct critical attention to the encompassing positives on the horizon of hope. The
theologian’s job includes correlating such questions
with the answers implied. Living on cultural
boundaries prompts us to look for creative options
consistent with the quest for personal love and the
demand for universal justice characteristic of God’s
coming Kingdom. In political theology, religious
meaning turns on the articulation of these foundational principles.
Tillich argued that world peace can only be realized, however briefly, through acts and proposals to
establish creative justice, a term he used anticipating
Archbishop Tutu’s notion of “restorative justice.”
The term evokes reactions other than payback. Augustinian realism reckons with the cosmic perva-
16
siveness of sin and instinct for revenge. Its political
response does not give priority to promulgating legal
codes but to nurturing civic virtues.72 Its challenge is
to transform sinners with grace.73 Tillich rejected
Augustine’s interpretation of the Fall and doctrine of
double predestination. But he retained a large measure of Augustinian-Lutheran realism regarding sinful
social structures and the primary role of civil
authorities in fostering social order. As Reinhold
Niebuhr reminded their generation, Augustinian realism underlies the conception of checks and balances incorporated by modern democracies.74
What is required at all times is a creatively
“theonomous” interplay of love, power, and justice
appropriate to the present. The word ‘creative’ rather
than ‘restorative’ points to reliance on the resurrecting divine Spirit which breathes new life into us, to
the point where we become “new beings.” Creativity, as contrasted with reconstructive mechanics and
social engineering, involves more than technological
reasoning. In Tillich’s accounts of “theonomous”
culture, the qualitatively differentiating reference to
“theos” frames conceptions of “autos” and “heteros,” resolving any divisive dichotomy between
autonomy and heteronomy among finite agents (ST
I, 83-6, 147-150).
Few have accepted Tillich’s neologism, but his
neo-Augustinian conception of how to relate finite
human interactions to infinite cultural conditioning
bears critical scrutiny. It construes divinely inspired
and humanly enacted law and order (“nomos”) to be
dynamically liberating, not dogmatically inhibiting.
It affirms both valid concerns for self-sufficiency
and submission to properly constituted “higher”
authorities. It gives priority to the rule of international law over the sovereignty of nation-states and
holds individuals responsible for situating their conceptions of self and society not just locally, but in
the context of promised global community, where
power is used justly for the welfare of all. “Power”
means the power of being and becoming, the raw
dynamics of creativity in all dimensions of life, including our sense of its possibilities. “Love” marks
the motive for giving priority to what concerns each
and all of us unconditionally. It prompts us to say
Yes and No to Aristotelian ideas of retributive and
distributive justice in a way that recognizes the
rights of others, while strengthening our autonomy
in a way that makes new creation thinkable.
“Justice” in post-Kantian philosophy referred to
ideally universal norms governing responsible moral
behaviour.75 Most critics in Tillich’s time assumed
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
that religious regimes are authoritarian and coercive.
They branded religious commandments as heteronomous.76 They missed his insistence that the divine love commandment by definition cannot be
forced. Love for Tillich always connotes reunion of
the previously estranged. Against nationalistic myths
of origins, which foster reactionary calls to “return
to our roots,” the unconditional demand to love our
neighbours as ourselves prompts us to work for a
future unlike our past. It prompts us to seek new
ways to cope with the Yes and No of our present
prospects (SD 5)
Instead of apocalyptic ideologies, such as those
embraced by old-time Marxists, belief-ful realism
fosters expectations which take account of our limitations, while seeking realistic ways to transcend
them (SD xxxvii) In North America, Tillich realized
that socialism was not a live political option for the
majority of Americans and that political strategies
keyed to nineteenth century conceptions of class
warfare were obsolete. But he still believed that
principles grounded in a dynamic ontology should
define the character of what he hoped would be a
socialist world order as a secular expression of the
Coming Kingdom.
Tillich’s mature conception of the dynamics of
the Protestant Principle is given in Love, Power and
Justice. There ‘justice’ refers to the structuring element of a political culture and ‘love’ to the drive of a
nation’s self-consciousness as an historical people.
Love includes cognitive as well as emotive aspects,
the grace of agape as well as erotic desire for fulfillment. “The highest form of love and that form of
it which distinguishes Eastern and Western cultures
is the love which preserves the individual who is
both the subject and object of love.” The individual
centered self is transformed by such love. By its emphasis on loving person-to-person relationships, according to him, Christianity manifests its superiority
to any other religious tradition (LPJ 27)
However, love without justice is sentimentality.
Justice with love includes a demand for fairness in
the distribution of material goods and retribution
from wrongdoers. It treats people as capable of nourishing love and justice as personal virtues. Creative
justice becomes possible, when we acknowledge the
judgment of history on human failures, and look beyond our current situations for constructive alternatives, which will ennoble all concerned. (ST II, 80,
86, 166-8)
On historic occasions, the structuring element of
justice, on Tillich’s analysis, combines with the dy-
17
namic inspiration of love to raise our aspirations as
people called to live in one world. Justice directs the
legal formation of political administrations. Love
provides the dynamic energy to break through to
new levels of personal fulfillment, individual and
collective. Love and justice are the definitive principles, in his sense of ‘principles’, of the coming
Kingdom of God. They are inseparable in the divine
power of being, which eternally overcomes the destructive side-effects of the demonic in history (LPJ
57-62) Creative justice follows from tacit or explicit
reliance on an ever-present unconditional demand to
make new beginnings in spite of seemingly total
human failure. It begins with mutual listening, giving by acknowledging others’ justified demands on
us to equalize our powers of being-in-relationship,
and forgiving, on the grounds that divine grace is not
bound by human calculations of what is fair for us as
God’s creatures (LPJ 66 re Job, 84-6 re giving and
forgiving as declaring proleptically future right relationships.)
The challenge for comparative theologians and
historians of religion today is not to uncover the hidden unity of all religions and philosophical schools,
to provide a basis for communal harmony, as proponents of a “world parliament of religions” hoped in
the nineteenth century.77 The challenge is to educate
leaders for a world viewed pluralistically, in which
people from different traditions work with others,
celebrating differences, including cultural differences, and learning not to use these as reasons to
destroy others as “heretics.”78 A virtue ethic begins
with each individual and depends on education for
long-term results. Tillich was convinced that no one
can make good decisions unless he or she is educated to have the right priorities, as theologically
defined. (See e.g. ST III, 329-339 re the structure of
historical dialectics, progress and regression)
To mitigate the political destructiveness of national rivalries—whether religiously grounded,
quasi-religious, or secular—Tillich advocated programs of international education which would make
widespread his own experience of living “on the
boundary.” He had left Germany involuntarily and
become an American citizen. In retrospect, he recognized that, as a result, his outlook had become
more realistically global than that of many of his
German compatriots. American isolationists also
needed to enlarge their vision. The image of being
“on the boundary” became his root metaphor for
modern living and the title of his autobiographical
memoir (OB). When I reviewed it in the 1960s, I
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
dismissed his metaphor on the grounds that his actual history was that of a mainstream, established
middle-class Protestant appointee at Harvard, whose
portrait had been on the cover of Time magazine,
hardly a marginal existence. (My review was in
Friends Journal, 1966). However, I now recognize
that the boundary metaphor caught his sense of existential dialectics, the Yes and No of his life experience on all levels and dimensions of human being in
the twentieth century, youth and adult, town and
country, church and society, and his call to correlate
secular and religious questions and answers for each
new generation.
If Tillich is right, questions and answers regarding meaning and value in history are always Yes and
No propositions, not categorical and univocal statements, true without qualification. The language used
to frame our decisions is necessarily ambiguous and
correct political thinking is indeed dialectical. Theological analyses should help us critique the priorities
of religious responses embodied in different ways of
life, drawing on data from the history of religions.
Religious wars are arguably due to non-theological
factors, not the unconditional call to be true and
good which inspires the best in religion. That there
is common grounding for our ultimate concern is,
for him, evident from the mystical strand in all traditions.79 Religious awareness is of “the depth dimension” of being at all levels. The history of religions
shows patterns of major differences within ongoing
traditions, including conflicting views on how to
regard others, some proselytizing, some not.80
Interim Concluding Queries
Tillich’s emphasis on personal commitment and
moral maturity is congruent with psychologist Steven Pinker’s avowedly Kantian conclusion, in The
Better Angels of our Nature, that changing habits of
mind to sharpen the sensibilities of moral agents, not
perfecting ideological systems, are what have
prompted modern people to be generally less violence-prone than their ancestors. However, Pinker’s
data suggest that enhanced appreciation for the rule
of law is what differentiates us from tribal gang cultures, which teach us to take the law into our own
hands.81 If so, as comparative theologians, should we
not ask whether a Christian love ethic is politically
inferior, not superior, to the priority given by Jews to
Torah and Muslims to Shariah? If the Protestant
Principle is a Euro-American variant of the prophetic principle, should we not expect the Prophet
18
Muhammad’s more global vision of its political enactment to prove more consonant with current experience? In politics, Muhammad’s example portrays
prophets on Hebraic lines, more as theocratic judges
than proleptic preachers.
Drawing and respecting boundaries has become
a popular image for observing rules governing individual and international relations. However, particularly with regard to “the clash of civilizations,” existentialist and multi-cultural “liberals” have been accused of relativism in a way that undercuts the rule
of law.82 The priority of grace, as Calvin realized,
requires corporate as well as individual embodiment.
Some read pluralists’ emphases on comparable
commitments across traditions as shallower than
exclusivists’ insistence on the distinctiveness of their
home traditions. In his late dialogues Tillich’s empathetic acknowledgments of others’ symbols was
mostly inclusivist.83
As a common intellectual grounding for dialogue, Tillich’s reliance on ontology seems no more
promising than Barth’s reliance on kerygmatic dogmatics. As Fred Streng pointed out, Buddhist and
Taoist ontologies do not support his assumption that
being is necessarily prior to non-being.84 Against the
Augustinian tradition, William Connolly has argued
that “agonistic” pluralism is more likely to inhibit us
from demonizing others. Also, hermeneutically, it is
not self-evident that every Yes points to only one
viable No, or vice versa. A dialogical, as contrasted
with Tillich’s dialectical, reading of traditions may
better enable us to appreciate the proverbial wisdom
and carnival humor of popular religious usage.85
In practice, the effect of describing our ultimate
concern as ineffable and its articulation as unfinalizable is to put as much emphasis on penultimate concerns informing ways of life leading to an ideal end,
in histories of religion, as on descriptions of what
that end is.86 How any historical group describes the
referent of its “ultimate concern” and whether it corresponds with our conceptions of reality may be less
important than the priorities implied by their conceptions of proximate or penultimate concerns, relative
to ultimate concerns, when making vital decisions in
day-to-day living with strangers.87 What weakened
the impact of Tillich’s conceptions was his insistence on academic qualifiers on all occasions, even
when the need was for inspirational slogans. Such
anti-idolizing caution inhibits calls to action.88 Because so many religious and political traditions have
ascribed to their leaders’ pronouncements infinite/divine infallibility, not human fallibility, such
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
caution seems, nevertheless, the better part of historical wisdom.
Politically, for Tillich the No, as articulated by
the Protestant Principle, was always more evident
and generally accepted than the Yes. Denunciation
of the Nazi regime, consumer capitalism and communist totalitarianism was readily relevant from
many perspectives. The Yes of the “kairos,” specifically the providential time for religious socialism in
Germany immediately following World War I, was
less widely appreciated, both among church leaders
and by secular politicians.89 In Britain, the Labour
Party had the support of Archbishop William Temple and formed the government, defeating Churchill
after World War II. But in the U.S.A. ‘socialism’
remains a smear word avoided by liberal Democrats
vulnerable to right-wing campaign rhetoric. Perhaps
the results of the most recent US presidential election will help us to recover a more global perspective on the issues raised.
1
See e.g. Hugh Nicholson, “The Reunification of
Theology and Comparison in the New Comparative Theology,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 77:
3, September, 2009, 609-646.
2
Published in Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology,
(hereafter ST) I-III, Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1951, 1957, 1963.
3
Reading selections of these with their chaplain,
while working in soup kitchens in Manhattan during the
Great Depression, is what led to Mrs. Griscom and her
friends to endow the Center at Harvard.
4
See Jacques Dupuis, S.J. Toward a Christian Theology of Religious Pluralism, Maryknoll, NY: Orbis,
1997, and The New Comparative Theology: Interreligious
Insights from the Next Generation, ed. Francis X.
Clooney, S.J. London & New York: T. & T. Clark/ Continuum, 2010.
5
As noted in Chapter Three, as a pacifist, Smith went
to India to teach, during the war years, and experienced
firsthand the fratricide, among colleagues and friends,
following the partition of India in 1947. Robert Slater
served his curacy in a slum parish of Newcastle-uponTyne, UK, during the Great Depression. Paul Tillich, On
the Boundary: An Autobiographical Sketch (New York:
Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1966), 52, “The experience of
those four years of war revealed to me and to my entire
generation an abyss in human existence that could not be
ignored. If a reunion of theology and philosophy is ever to
be possible it will be achieved only in a synthesis that
does justice to this experience…My philosophy of religion has attempted to meet this need…It attempts to ex-
19
press the experience of the abyss in philosophical concepts and the idea of justification as the limitation of philosophy.”
6
See Steven Pinker, The Better Angels Of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined, New York: Viking,
2011, 74, citing N. Elias, The Civilizing Process, Sociogenetic and psychogenetic investigations, rev.ed. Blackwell, Cambridge MA, 2000.
7
For introductions see e.g. John R. Stumme, Socialism In Theological Perspective: A Study of Paul Tillich
1918-1933, Scholars Press, Missoula, Montana 1978,
AAR Dissertation Series 21, and Ronald H. Stone, Paul
Tillich’s radical social thought, Atlanta: John Knox,
1980, 39-96.
8
Paul Tillich, The Protestant Era, (hereafter PE) tr.
James Luther Adams, Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1948, 241 “The faces of the permanently unemployed which I saw in Germany in 1931 and in England
in 1936—faces I shall never forget—are witnesses of the
destructiveness of unemployment.”
9
I owe this point to a lecture in 2011 by Margaret
Macmillan on the build-up to World War I.
10
See Samuel P. Huntington, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order, New York:
Simon & Schuster, 2011, 20 “For peoples seeking identity
and reinventing ethnicity, enemies are essential, are potentially most dangerous enmities occur across the fault
lines between the world’s major civilizations.”
11
Paul Tillich, Theology of Peace, (hereafter ToP) ed
Ronald H. Stone, Louisville Ky: Westminster/John Knox,
1990, “The World Situation,” 111-157. Note PE 246 re
youth movements as a reaction against nineteenth century
individualism.
12
Richard Rubenstein, After Auschwitz: Radical Theology and Contemporary Judaism, Indianapolis: BobbsMerrill, 1966, on Jews as surrogates for Christians.
13
Eberhard Amelung, author of Die Gestalt der
Liebe: Paul Tillich’s Theologie der Kultur, Mohn: Gütersloh, 1972, pointed this out to members of Tillich’s
graduate seminar at Harvard in 1956-7.
14
On anti-Semitism and Nazi political romanticism
note Paul Tillich, The Socialist Decision,
(hereafter SD), tr. Franklin Sherman, Eugene OR:
Wipf & Stock, 2012 earlier published by Harper
& Row, 1977, 5-6, 22, 35, 38, 59, 77, 168 n.18
15
See translator James Luther Adams’s Introduction
to Paul Tillich, What Is Religion? New York: Harper &
Row, 1969, 14-15. See also D. MacKenzie Brown ed.,
Ultimate Concern: Tillich in Dialogue, New York: Harper
& Row, 1965.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
On politics, note Stumme, Socialism in Theological
Perspective, 216 “The dialectic of religious responsibility
and reservation set in the horizon of the paradoxical
breaking in of the kingdom of God gives Tillich the principles of his theology of politics. The Unconditional is
concretely present without being identical to any sociopolitical reality. Tillich’s eschatology, which articulated a
Chalcedonian solution to the question of divine and human activity, provides an all-encompassing perspective
for prophetic criticism and new creation.”
16
See Chapter Two above re Robert Slater on “responsive theology”
17
For a contemporary philosophical exposition of this
approach see Richard Swinburne, Revelation: From
Metaphor to Analogy, Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2nd ed, 2008.
18
Besides ST I, 3-4 and II, 383, re fundamentalists,
note Paul Tillich, Biblical Religion and the Search for
Ultimate Reality, Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1955, 4, “The basic error of fundamentalism is that it
overlooks the contribution of the receptive side in the
revelatory situation and consequently identifies one individual and conditioned form of receiving the divine with
the divine itself.”
19
Paul Tillich, “Two Types of Philosophy of Religion,” in Theology of Culture, ed. Robert C. Kimball, New
York: Oxford University Press, 1959, 10-29.
20
Note the exchanges on this between Durwood Foster and Robison James in the Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, XXXVII, 1 & 2, 2011.
21
See e.g. Arthur Peacocke, Theology for a Scientific
Age: Being and Becoming—Natural, Divine, and Human.
Minneapolis: Fortress, 53-5,157-163, 339-342, 373-4.
22
See Wilhelm & Marion Pauck, Paul Tillich: His
Life & Thought, (hereafter “Pauck”) San Francisco:
Harper & Row, 1989, 117-8 re Wertheimer, Mannheim,
Kantorowicz, Horkheimer, Gelb and Goldstein.
23
See also ST III Index references to eros. Note Alexander C. Irwin, Eros Toward The World: Paul Tillich
and the Theology of the Erotic, Minneapolis: Fortress,
1991, 70 re anti-fascist youth movement. Eros =embodied
love driven by attraction to “higher” possibilities of personal development
24
See Tillich’s response to Robert Scharlemann in his
“Rejoinder,” Journal of Religion, (hereafter JR Rejoinder)
XLVI, January, 1966, 1-II, 184-196, 185.
25
Paul Tillich, Love, Power and Justice: Ontological
Analysis And Ethical Applications (hereafter LPJ), London/New York: Oxford University Press, 1954, 44.
26
Paul Tillich, The Courage to Be, (hereafter CtoB)
New Haven: Yale University Press, 1952, 40-54.
27
20
See e.g. PE 161-181 “The Protestant Principle and
the Proletarian Situation.”
28
Paul Tillich, A History of Christian Thought: From
Its Judaic and Hellenistic Origins to Existentialism, ed.
Carl E. Braaten, New York: Touchstone, Simon & Schuster, 1967, 193. Stumme 217, 258 n.19, refers to H. Richard Niebuhr in Christ and Culture , New York: Harper
Torchbook, 1951, suggesting that Tillich at times fits the
Lutheran type of Christ and culture in paradox, but generally follows more the Augustinian type of Christ the
transformer of culture.
29
Note PE 222-233, “The End of the Protestant Era?”
e.g. 227 re Barthianism and 230 re the ongoing power “of
prophetic protest against every power which claims divine
character for itself.”
30
See James Luther Adams, Paul Tillich’s Philosophy of Culture, Science and Religion, New York: Harper
& Row, 1965, on the contrast between Barth and Tillich
and The System of the Sciences, 116—182, including 1302 on where he followed the later Schelling against classical idealism, 138-144 on the empirical sciences and concept of Gestalt..
31
The late Bishop William Coleman who taught Humanities at York University in Toronto.
32
See Peter Slater, “Dynamic Religion, Formative
Culture, and the Demonic in History,” Harvard Theological Review 92:1, January, 1999, 95-110.
33
See David H. Kelsey, Proving Doctrine, Harrisburg
PA: Trinity Press International, 1999, revised edition of
The Uses of Scripture in Modern Theology, Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1975, 64-74, for a critical exposition of Tillich’s
“expressionist” construal of the biblical portrait of Jesus
as the Christ. Kelsey’s book demonstrates that all theologians combine Scriptural, philosophical, and experiential
warrants in their systematic expositions of Christian doctrine.
34
On using ‘spirit’ rather than ‘mind’, see ST II 21-2.
35
Besides Lindbeck, see also Hans W. Frei, Types of
Christian Theology, ed. George Hunsinger & William C.
Placher, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992, 3-4,
64-9 (treating Tillich as “Schleiermacher redivivus”), and
71 re “ad hoc correlation.”
36
We were all influenced by Paul Lehmann’s graduate seminars on Barth’s Church Dogmatics, to which we
were admitted before proceeding to Tillich’s graduate
seminar in our second year. See Pauck op.cit. 226 on the
debate on this between John Dillenberger and E La B.
Cherbonnier.
37
See John Macquarrie God-Talk: An Examination of
the Language and Logic of Theology, New York: Harper
& Row, 1967, 33-54..
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
38
For a scientist’s return to this emphasis in “epigenetics,” see Bruce H. Lipton, The Biology of Belief: Unleashing the Power of Consciousness, Matter & Miracles,
New York: Hay House, 2008, 65-91
39
See David J. Bosch, Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission, Maryknoll NY: Orbis,
1992, 368-510.
40
See Paul Tillich The Encounter of Religions and
Quasi-Religions, ed. Terence Thomas, Lewiston, New
York: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1990, Introduction xiixxvii, and Pan-Chiu Lai, Towards A Trinitarian Theology
of Religions: a Study of Paul Tillich’s Thought, Kampen,
The Netherlands: Kok Pharos, 1994, 20-1, 27-9.
41
On this Barth and Tillich were agreed. For Barth
see e.g. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, II, 2 tr.G.W.
Bromiley et al., Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1957, 662-3. In
Tillich note e.g. ToP 29-33.
42
Patrick Kierans, Sinful Social Structures, New
York: Paulist, 1974.
43
For an introductory overview see G.R.Evans,
Augustine on Evil, Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1982, and on Tillich’s interpretation of original sin
see Peter Slater, “Tillich on the Fall and the Temptation
of Goodness,” Journal of Religion, 65.2, April, 1985,
196-207.
44
For Tillich’s Lutheran resources see Kyle A.
Pasewark, A Theology of Power: Being Beyond Domination, Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1993.
45
On Augustine’s Pauline schema re law and grace
see Paula Frederiksen, Augustine and the Jews: A Christian Defense of Jews and Judaism, New York: Doubleday, 163-5.
46
E.g. “You are accepted,”The Shaking of the Foundations, 153-183.
47
Pan-Chiu Lai, Towards a Trinitarian Theology of
Religions: a Study of Paul Tillich’s Thought, Kampen,
Netherlands: Kok Pharos, 1994, and Robison James, “Tillich on ‘The Absoluteness of Christianity’: Reconceiving
The Exclusivist-Inclusivist-Pluralist Scheme,” Issues in
the Thought of Paul Tillich Group, American Academy of
Religion Meeting, Philadelphia, November 19, 1995.
James refers readers to Tillich’s 1955 essay on “Participation and Knowledge: Problems of an Ontology of Cognition,” in Paul Tillich, Main Works/ Hauptwerke, Carl
Heinz Ratschow, general editor, vol.I, Philosophical
Writi9ngs/ Philosophische Schriften, ed Gunther Wenz,
Berlin and New York: De Gruyter-Evangelisches.
48
re T’s sermons see Pauck 227-232, and the Preface
to Paul Tillich, The Shaking of the Foundations. New
York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1948, v-vi. See also Tillich’s critique of Barthian preaching in “What Is Wrong
21
With The ‘Dialectic” Theology?” in Mark Kline Taylor
ed., Paul Tillich: Theologian of the Boundaries, San
Francisco: Collins Liturgical, 1987, 104-118, 114, reprinted from The Journal of Religion, XV, 1935, 127-45.
49
Paul Tillich, Dynamics of Faith, New York: Harper
Torchbook, 1957, 5-6 re Freud.
50
Re capitalism see e.g. Paul Tillich, Political Expectation, (hereafter PE) New York: Harper & Row, 1971
240-1, and SD 42-4, 52-6.
51
So Raymond F. Bulman, “Tillich’s Critique of Political Theology,” 355, in Religion et Culture: Colloque
du Centenaire Paul Tillich, ed. Michel Despland, JeanClaude Petit et Jean Richard, Québec: Les Presses de
l’Université Laval/Les Éditions du Cerf, 1987, 353-366.
52
See e.g. PE Introduction, xvii-xix autobiographical
note re Calvin, Luther and the interpretation of history.
53
For Tillich’s last thoughts in response to Clark A.
Kuchemin’s critical appraisal of the appeal to Marxist
dialectics, see JR Rejoinder 184-196, especially 189-191.
On the significance of Kant’s third critique for Tillich see
Adina Davidovich, Religion as a Province of Meaning:
The Kantian Foundations of Modern Theology, Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 84-99, 221-68, 277-8.
54
Against The Third Reich: Paul Tillich’s Wartime
Radio Broadcasts into Nazi Germany, (hereafter ATR)
ed. Ronald H. Stone and Matthew Lon Weaver, Louisville, Ky: Westminster John Knox, 1998, 241-4, “The
Ancient and Eternal Message of Easter,” April 4, 1944, tr.
Lon Weaver.
55
See John W. deGruchy, The Church Struggle in
South Africa, 2nd ed, London: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1986,
195-237. Also Ronald Stone, “Tillich’s Kairos and its
Trajectory,” NAPTS Bulletin XXXVII, 3, Summer 2011,
4-10.
56
On “the vernacular paradigm” in Christianity see
Lamin Sanneh, Translating the Message: The Missionary
Impact on Culture, Maryknoll NY: Orbis, 1-6.
57
Also Paul Tillich, The Religious Situation,(hereafter RS) tr. H. Richard Niebuhr, Cleveland &
New York: Living Age Meridian, 1956, 11-13.
58
Walter Leibrecht ed., Religion and Culture: Essays
in honor of Paul Tillich, (hereafter Leibrecht) New York:
Harper & Row, Introduction, 11-13.
59
See Paul Tillich, Against The Third Reich: Paul
Tillich’s Wartime Radio Broadcasts into Nazi Germany,
(hereafter ATR) ed. Ronald H. Stone & Matthew Lon
Weaver, Louisville Ky: Westminster John Knox, 1998,
184-7, 203-7, 210, 225-8, 242-8. Note Pauck 205 re T’s
appeal to Roosevelt .
60
See Tom J. Farer, “The U.N. and Human Rights:
More than a Whimper, Less than a Roar,” in United Na-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
tions, Divided World: The UN’s Roles in International
Relations, ed. Adam Roberts & Benedict Kingsbury, Oxford: Clarendon, 1988, 95-138. Check also Kathryn Sikkink, The Justice Cascade, NY: Norton, 2011.
61
See ToP 135-8 re recovering democratic institutions, 138, “Christianity must stress the necessity of a
common spirit within each federation of nations.”
62
See Clark A. Kuchemin, Journal of Religion, “Professor Tillich: Justice and the Economic Order,” Journal
of Religion, XLVI, January, 1966, 1: II, 165-183.
63
Paul Tillich, On Art and Architecture (hereafter
OAA) ed. John & Jane Dillenberger, New York: Crossroad, 1987, 169 mentions Godot.
64
See note 42 re Tillich on the Fall.
65
On Tillich and Niebuhr see Pauck, 169-170, 178-9
66
On central and auxiliary symbols see Peter Slater,
The Dynamics of Religion: Meaning and Change in Religious Traditions, San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1978, 1546.
67
William Temple, Nature, Man, and God, London:
Macmillan, 209.
68
The New Being, New York: Charles Scribner’s
Sons, 1955, 20.
69
See Robert Scharlemann, “Demons, Idols, and the
Symbol of Symbols in Tillich’s Theology of Politics,” in
Religion et Culture, ed Despland, Pettit & Richard.
70
See David Nikkel, “Updating Tillich on Religion
and Art,” NAPTS Bulletin, XXXVII, 3, Summer, 2011,
10-16.
71
Gandhi’s thinking was informed by C.F. Andrews’
exposition of the Sermon on the Mount. On their collaboration see Gandhi and Charlie: The Story of a Friendship,
ed. David McI. Gracie, Cambridge MA: Cowley, 1989,
75 (appealing also to the Buddha on non-injury), 159.
72
Augustine enlisted state power against the Donatists reluctantly, when persuasion failed to avert their
armed attacks on Catholics. See Gerald Bonner, St.
Augustine of Hipp: Life and Controversies, Norwich:
Canterbury, 1963, 237-311, 242 “In some matters, the
Donatists employed techniques worthy of a later age, as
when they took to throwing acid mixed with quicklime
into the eyes of their victims…” 264-5 on the need for
military protection.
73
On Augustinian virtue ethics see Eric Gregory,
Politics & the Order of Love: An Augustinian Ethic of
Democratic Citizenship, Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 2008, 37, 114, 194-5 re Tillich & Martin Luther
King Jr. Gregory, 20, “From an Augustinian point of
view, love and sin in fact constrain each other.” See also
his note 103, p 193, re M.L. King Jr and citing Desmond
Tutu, The Rainbow People of God, NY: Doubleday, 1994,
22
117 invoking ubuntu as God’s call “to be available for
others, and to know that you are bound up with them in
the bundle of life, for a person is only a person through
other persons.”
74
See Eric Gregory,on Niebuhr, 11-13, 80-94.
75
For a critique of the modern colonial fallout from
Kant’s conception of disembodied reasoning see J. Kameron Carter, Race: A Theological Account, New York:
Oxford University Press, 2008, 5, 79-121.
76
E.g. Daphne Hampson, author of Christian Contradictions: The Structures of Lutheran and Catholic
Thought, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001,
when at Harvard.
77
An influential voice at Harvard on these topics
when the Center was founded was that of William Ernest
Hocking, author of Living Religions and a World Faith,
London: Allen & Unwin, 1940.
78
See William E. Connolly, The Augustinian Imperative: A Reflection on the Politics of Morality,
Lanham MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 1993, xxviii,
13, 78-84, 144. 34-9 Connolly reads Augustine’s as a
command ethic (see note re Gregory and virtue ethics).
79
ST I, 43, 140-1, III, 215-6,; On the Boundary 1519; and Pauck 96-8; re Otto and T’s nature mysticism.
80
Note e.g. Kenneth Cragg’s reflections on the history of Christian attempts to evangelize the world in A.K.
Cragg,The Christian And Other Religion, London: Mowbrays, 1977, 8-10; Bosch 487-8; and George R. Sumner,
The First & The Last: The Claim of Jesus Christ and the
Claims of Other Religious Traditions, Grabd Rapids MI:
Eerdmans, 2004, 4-11 on pluralism and Christian particularism.
81
Steven Pinker, The Better Angels Of Our Nature:
Why Violence Has Declined, 660. On religion Pinker does
not take account of Gordon Allport or Robert Fowler.
Pinker 106-116 notes an upsurge in “decivilizational”
violence in the USA, from the 1960s to 1980, when
“Spontaneity, self-expression, and a defiance of inhibitions became cardinal virtues” for the do-your-own-thing
existentialists’ generation of “rolling stones.”
82
Note Huntington 195-6 re human rights, and universality vs. cultural relativism.
83
According to Rob James, for Tillich there are
senses in which Christians should be pluralists, inclusivists and exclusivists, all three, without being inconsistent,
according to the levels of experience to which they are
appealing in dialogue with others. See Robison James,
“Tillich on ‘The Absoluteness of Christianity’: Reconceiving The Exclusivist-Inclusivist-Pluralist Scheme,”
Issues in the Thought of Paul Tillich Group, American
Academy of Religion Meeting, Philadelphia, November
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
19, 1995. James refers readers to Tillich’s 1955 essay on
“Participation and Knowledge: Problems of an Ontology
of Cognition,” in Paul Tillich, Main Works/ Hauptwerke,
Carl Heinz Ratschow, general editor, vol.I, Philosophical
Writi9ngs/ Philosophische Schriften, ed Gunther Wenz,
Berlin and New York: De Gruyter-Evagelisches Verlagswerk GmbH, 1989, 382-9, and, for a German translation,
Paul Tillich, Gesammelte Werke IV, ed. Renate Albrecht,
Stuttgart: Evangelische Veragswerk, 1961, 107-17.
84
Frederick J. Streng, “Three Religious Ontological
Claims: ‘Being-Itself,’ and ‘Nothingness Within Somethingness,’ and ‘The Field of Emptiness,’” in Traditions
in Contact and Change: Selected Proceedings of the
XIVth IAHR Congress, ed. Peter Slater & Donald Wiebe,
Waterloo ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 249-266.
85
For elaboration see Peter Slater, “Contesting confessions: Connolly’s Augustinan Imperative and Bak-
Paul Tillich and Paul Ricœur on the
Meaning of “Philosophical Theology” Introduction
Michael Sonn
T
his paper examines the historical and constructive issues underlying Paul Tillich and Paul
Ricœur’s muted response to each other’s works and
critically explores the space for possible productive
conversation between them.1 The conspicuous silence between the two great thinkers is vexing because, as it is well known, Ricœur succeeded Tillich’s chair as John Nuveen professor in philosophical theology at Chicago.2 And beyond their common
institutional affiliation and position, they also shared
common interlocutors and intellectual trajectories.
Both drank deeply from the well of modern German
thought, indebted especially to the philosophies of
Kant, Jaspers, and Heidegger, as well as the theologies of Kierkegaard, Barth, and Bultmann. Furthermore, they also seemed to understand the nature and
meaning of philosophical theology in strikingly
similar ways: philosophy’s role in elucidating human existence, theology’s task in interpreting the
meaning of existence, the necessity to interpret the
symbols of the Christian message in the contemporary situation, the creative re-interpretation of that
tradition—all these themes are shared by Tillich and
Ricœur. Yet, despite their common institutional associations and intellectual affinities, they remained
largely silently on each other’s works. This paper
23
htin’s dialogical imperative,” Theology Today, 68.3, October, 2011, 272-289.
86
On the difference here between apprehending and
comprehending, mystery and problem, note David H.
Kelsey, Eccentric Existence: A Theological Anthropology, Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2009, Vol.1,769 citing M. B. Foster.
87
On justification and penultimate concerns note
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Ethics, ed. E. Bethge, tr. Neville
Horton Smith, New York: Macmillan, 1955, 79-100, cited
by deGruchy op.cit.
88
Note Walter Liebrecht’s observations in his Introduction to Religion and Culture: Essays in honor of Paul
Tillich, New York: Harper, 1965, 15-19
89
Note Ronald H. Stone, Paul Tillich’s Radical Social Thought, Atlanta: John Knox, 1980, 44-51, 88-9, 113
deGruchy re S. Africa.
_______________________________________
explores their muted response to each other’s
thought, and to that end, it has three sections: first,
there is a historical section that examines the few
instances where Ricœur addresses Tillich’s works
(Tillich, to my knowledge, never mentions Ricœur);
second, there is a constructive section where I suggest that the reason they never publicly engaged
each other is due to a fundamental disagreement
over the very meaning of the nature and task of philosophical theology; and third, there is a critical section that re-assesses their positions and puts them
into productive conversation with each other.
I. Historical Section
When Tillich assumed the chair of Professor of
Philosophical Theology at Union Theological Seminary in 1940, he stated in his inaugural address,
“Philosophical theology is the unusual name of the
chair I represent. It is a name that suits me better
than any other, since the boundary line between philosophy and theology is the center of my thought
and work.”3 Having earned doctorates in philosophy
at Breslau and theology at Halle, and having already
taught philosophy at Frankfurt and theology at Berlin and Leipzig, it was perhaps altogether appropriate that his new position in America was at the
boundary of the two disciplines, devoted to philosophical theology.4 For Ricœur, too, his academic positions throughout his career are suggestive of his
own views on the relationship between philosophy
and theology. He first taught philosophy at Stras-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
bourg, which was the only university at the time in
France to have a Faculty in Protestant theology, and,
when he moved to the Sorbonne, he simultaneously
taught at l’Institut protestant de théologie. And when
he succeeded Paul Tillich’s chair as John Nuveen
Professor at Chicago in philosophical theology, he
found the title strange as it contradicted his own
view of the separation between philosophy and theology. “My own teaching was,” he states, “bizarrely
entitled ‘Philosophical Theology’; that was the name
of Tillich’s chair. What I say elsewhere about the
way in which I conceive of the relations between
philosophy and theology indeed contradicts the title
of the chair. But no one attached any constraints to
this title, which I found upon arriving at Chicago.”5
From these brief remarks, it is clear that Tillich
and Ricœur had seemingly profound differences regarding the nature and task of “philosophical theology,” but whatever disagreements they may have
had, they were rarely made public. To my knowledge, Tillich never once cited Ricœur’s works, although he was certainly aware of his younger French
contemporary because he had hosted him when he
visited Chicago,6 and he sent him a signed copy of
his third volume of Systematic Theology.7 There is
no doubt that Ricœur had read Tillich, given his
many personal copies of his writings, and he even
directed a dissertation on his thought, which was
later published and for which he wrote a laudatory
preface.8 Furthermore, he had agreed to write a postface in 1969 to the French translation of Tillich’s
Systematic Theology, but due to the untimely passing of the editor, it did not come to pass.9 Despite
his familiarity with Tillich’s works, however,
Ricœur’s personal copies of his writings do not possess the copious and heavily annotated notes that
other works within his canon enjoyed, such as
Augustine’s Confessions, Barth’s Dogmatics, or
Ebeling’s Word and Faith. And Ricœur never wrote
an extensive commentary or article on Tillich’s
thought, citing him only twice; once very briefly in
an extended essay entitled “Toward a Hermeneutic
of the Idea of Revelation” (1977),10 and another time
in a footnote to one of his lectures on biblical hermeneutics for his Gifford Lectures delivered in
1986.11 In both instances, Ricœur delineated between
a position that espouses theology as a response to a
question raised by philosophy and a view with
which he aligns himself that understands theology as
a response to a call. From these tantalizing, but brief
and undeveloped, notes, the next section aims to
construct and elaborate on their fundamental differ-
24
ences regarding the relationship between philosophy
and theology and their contested views over the very
meaning of “philosophical theology.”
II. Constructive Section: Paul Tillich
There is already much written on Tillich’s understanding of the relationship between philosophy
and theology, and I will not be attempting here either
a particularly novel interpretation of that relation or
setting forth a comprehensive understanding of it.
Rather, given the constraints of this paper, I aim to
funnel certain themes in a schematic way that will
put into relief the differences he had with Ricœur.
When I use the term “philosophical theology” here, I
refer to Tillich’s later mature works. This is for two
reasons. Firstly, even as Tillich scholars have rightly
traced the origins and development of his understanding of philosophy and theology back to his dissertations on Schelling,12 it is his later works, particularly as it was formulated in his Systematic Theology, that have become most influential for theology. This also means that I do not attempt to speculate on how Tillich might have reworked his theological method in light of his later encounters with
the history of religions through his seminars with
Mircea Eliade.13 Secondly, and more germane to the
purpose of this paper, when Ricœur speaks of Tillich’s philosophical theology as a response to a
question, it is a clear signal that he is referring to his
later formulation of the method of correlation rather
than his early articulations in The System of the Sciences, for instance.14 Still, insofar as Tillich was articulating his systematic theology for a quarter of a
century prior to its actual publication—a point he
makes in the preface to volume 1 of Systematic Theology—15 I will draw on relevant articles in those
earlier years that support his later claims.
To understand what philosophical theology
means, it is helpful to discuss first what it is not.
Firstly, philosophical theology implies a theology
with a philosophical character, which, in turn, implies a theology without philosophical character.
From this, he distinguishes between two types of
theology: philosophical theology and kerygmatic
theology. Although both forms are based on the kergyma, the former explains the kerygma in close relation with philosophy, while the latter makes no explicit reference to it. Karl Barth, who Tillich frequently names to be representative of kerygmatic
theology, at least acknowledged that he could not
avoid philosophical concepts, language, and meth-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
ods completely, and so it is to Barth’s ‘radical pupils’ who are ostensibly the targets of Tillich’s criticism here.16
Philosophical theology also implies a philosophy with a theological character, which, in turn, implies a philosophy without a theological character.
Philosophy without theology, on Tillich’s view,
leads to either a logical positivism that does not deal
with any problems that concern us or a mere epistemology or history of philosophy enumerating one
opinion after another without existential basis. Thus,
Tillich’s account of philosophical theology rejects
the extremes of what he calls theological supranaturalism, which denounces the import of philosophy, as well as philosophies that believe it to be improper to mix with theology.
So, what does Tillich positively mean by ‘philosophical theology’? One way to address this question is to ask what does Tillich mean by the term
‘philosophy’ and what is theological about philosophy, and to ask, conversely, what he means by the
term ‘theology’ and what is philosophical about theology. Regarding the former, Tillich grants that there
is no generally accepted definition of philosophy;17 it
can be construed, for instance, as metaphysics, as
epistemology, as ethics, or as a regional science. He
works around this thorny issue by suggesting a definition of philosophy that offers the widest possible
meaning, for whatever the object of philosophy, it is
always something that is. Thus, philosophy, in his
words, is “that cognitive approach to reality in
which reality as such is the object.”18 In short, Tillich associates philosophy with ‘metaphysics’, by
which he means the rational inquiry into the structures of being as they appear in the human encounter
with reality. He is quick to disassociate this understanding of metaphysics from common misperceptions of it that suppose a reality beyond the physical
realm. Indeed, because of this, Tillich prefers to associate philosophy with ontology or what he elsewhere calls the ‘original meaning of metaphysics’.19
To understand philosophy in these terms, however,
makes the division between philosophy and theology
impossible because as Tillich states, “whatever the
relation of God, world, and man may be, it lies in the
frame of being.”20 Furthermore, insofar as metaphysics is directed towards the structures of being,
the philosopher tries to maintain a detached objectivity that does not ask the question of its own existential roots. But insofar as every human being and thus
every philosophy has existential interests and passions, it implies that philosophy, whether it is ac-
25
knowledged or denied, whether it is implicit or explicit, has ultimate concern in its background.21
If the meaning of philosophy is ontology or
metaphysics in the original sense, and it is theological insofar as the question it raises implies beingitself with the existential attitude of passion from
ultimate concern, now we can turn to the meaning of
theology and how theology is philosophical. If God
is the object of theology, Tillich insists that we cannot talk about God as given directly—otherwise God
would simply appear as an object beside other objects—but rather only in an indirect sense through
religious symbols. In and through its symbols, the
religious encounter with reality opens up the dimension of reality in which ultimacy appears. Theology
then is “the conceptual interpretation, explanation,
and criticism of the symbols in which a special encounter between God and man has found expression.”22 The objective and subjective side of faith are
interrelated; on the object-side, faith occurs always
already within given religious symbols against the
horizon of history and tradition, and on the subjectside, religious symbols must be interpreted in a way
that adequately answers and expresses the ‘existential situation.’ Thus, as philosophy implies and is
driven towards theology, so too, theology implies
philosophy. For in order to interpret religious symbols, “theology must use concepts which are either
taken directly from a metaphysical system or which
have already entered the general language without
normally reminding of their philosophical origin.”23
Theology presupposes a structure of expression that
draws on the conceptual tools of its period such that
it cannot escape the problem of the ‘situation’.24
Tillich’s understanding of philosophical theology, then, rejects a strict conflictual view that falls
into either a theological supranaturalism or a philosophical positivism. Insofar as theology cannot
respond without a philosophical analysis of the human situation, theology is dependent on and requires
philosophy. On the other hand, philosophy is dependent on theology because its task in pursuing the
structure of being discovers a question that philosophy cannot answer. This mutual interdependence
between philosophy and theology, then, accounts for
why Tillich found the unusual name of his chair in
‘philosophical theology’ best suited for his thought
and work.
Paul Ricœur
With an understanding of Tillich’s philosophical
theology in hand, we can now contrast it to Ricœur’s
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
understanding. Ricœur expressed a discomfort with
the term ‘philosophical theology’ and rarely mentions it in his works. Indeed, it is often noted by
Ricœur scholars that he separated his philosophical
writings from theological claims throughout his career. Perhaps nowhere is this dual program more
explicitly enunciated than in Oneself as Another
(1990), which, in his words, pursues an ‘autonomous
philosophical discourse’.25 It is well-known that the
original Gifford Lectures delivered in 1985-86 included two studies on biblical hermeneutics26 so as
to remain faithful to the founder’s will for the lectures to be on ‘natural theology’. They, however,
were removed from Oneself as Another to remain
faithful to the separation of philosophy and theology
that Ricœur had maintained throughout his life. He
writes in Oneself as Another,
The ten studies that make up this work assume
the bracketing, conscious and resolute, of the convictions that bind me to biblical faith…I think I have
presented to my readers arguments alone, which do
not assume any commitment from the reader to reject, accept, or suspend anything with regard to biblical faith. It will be observed that this asceticism of
the argument, which marks, I believe, all my philosophical work, leads to a type of philosophy from
which the actual mention of God is absent and in
which the question of God, as a philosophical question, itself remains in a suspension that could be
called agnostic.27
On the one hand, his philosophical writings are
guarded from a crypto-theology such that philosophy retains its own autonomous validity claims, but,
equally important, biblical faith is guarded from a
crypto-philosophy. Ricœur puts this separation between philosophy and theology most succinctly
when he was asked by an interviewer, “Would you
accept being introduced as a ‘Protestant philosopher’?” to which Ricœur responds, “Certainly not.
But ‘philosopher and Protestant’, yes!”28
Such a strict separation between philosophy and
theology may suggest within a Tillichian analysis
that Ricœur’s thought leads to either a philosophy of
logical positivism that does not deal with any problems that concern us or an epistemology or history
of philosophy enumerating one opinion after another
without existential basis. But readers of Ricœur will
quickly point out that even as he enjoyed a broad
engagement with the history of philosophy, that he
was always concerned with using the resources of
that tradition in the service of concrete thinking
about human existence. Alternatively, one may con-
26
strue Ricœur’s thought as a form of theological supra-naturalism, which denounces the import of philosophy. It can be argued - as indeed many have that the impulse to separate philosophy and theology
is grounded in Ricœur’s Reformed tradition and the
critical retrieval of Barthian theology in particular.
Thus when Ricœur distinguishes his own position
that understands theology as a response to a divine
call from a Tillichian approach to theology as a response to a human question raised by philosophy, he
seems to slide closer to the kerygmatic theology of
Barth and away from Tillich.29
Indeed, Ricœur stands with Barth in rejecting
liberal theology, which argued for the appropriateness of Christianity to the modern age by seeking a
rapprochement with wider culture by employing
modern methods in historical studies, philosophy,
and biblical criticism. If liberal theology built up and
built in presuppositions of historical understanding
and research that could serve as a basis for theology
as a universal science, Ricœur, in agreement with
Barth, argued for the priority of ‘listening to the
Word of God’.30 Ricœur writes, “If the believer
speaks of God, it is because he speaks first of the
Word of God.”31 And again, “I am in accord with the
way in which Karl Barth poses the theological problem. The origin of faith lies in the solicitation of man
by the object of faith.”32 In other words, the central
task of theology is not an answer to the anthropological or epistemological question, ‘How is human
knowledge of revelation possible in general?’ or
even to the existential question of being-itself, but
rather it is listening to the Word of God spoken to
this or that person. For both Barth and Ricœur,
moreover, the Word of God is mediated by the
‘world of the biblical text’ - the written Word of
God. As Mark Wallace, the first scholar to observe
Ricœur’s close affinity to Barth, stated, “For both
thinkers, the world of the text is primarily not the
Bible’s Sitz im Leben uncovered by historical criticism, but its Sitz im Wort that confronts the listener
as the reliable Word of God.”33 Their common concern was that extra-biblical material—Platonism,
Aristotelianism, historicism, existentialism, phenomenology, general hermeneutics—would be inserted into the biblical world and become the basic
framework for interpretation. Rather, both Ricœur
and Barth sought to let the text speak for itself without external impositions and presuppositions.
When Ricœur distinguishes his own position
that understands theology as a response to a divine
call from a Tillichian approach for theology as a re-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
sponse to a human question raised by philosophy, or
to put this differently, the conception of theology as
a listening as opposed to an answering, it is perhaps
due to their seemingly stark disagreement over the
very nature and meaning of philosophical theology
that they rarely engaged each other’s works in public. But I suggest that by critically engaging their
works, there are important points of contact between
these two thinkers that bring their respective understandings of philosophical theology much closer together.
III. Critical Section
To understand their approaches simply as a response to a human question (Tillich) or as a response
to a divine call (Ricœur) reduces their thought to one
or another aspect of what is a more complex and
larger picture. Tillich’s method, for instance, clearly
does not impose a human limitation on God’s transcendence. If humans are necessarily philosophical
and thus necessarily ask the meaning of existence
that implies being-itself, Tillich nonetheless rejects
natural religion and its circumscription and reduction
of religion to human nature.34 Here, he agrees with
the Barthian critique that there is no human experience or knowledge of God without the revelation of
God. True religion is not assimilable into or bound
within human spirit, history, and culture, but is
rather grounded in the Unconditioned itself. And so
Tillich’s philosophical theology is not simply a response to a human question, but also it is a response
to a divine call. By emphasizing the aspect of Tillich’s thought that insists on the priority of divine
freedom and transcendence and human limitation, it
brings it closer to Ricœur’s position.
Similarly, Ricœur’s philosophical theology—if
that is the right term—is not simply a response to a
divine call, but touches and contacts human existence. Even as he is indebted to Barth, Ricœur can
be seen to belong to the second-generation of French
thinkers who sought to enlarge the role of philosophy with respect to Christian faith. Ricœur notes, for
instance, in an extended review of Roger Mehl’s La
condition du philosophe chrétien (1947), that it was
“the first great book in French where the new Reformed theology confronts the vocation of philosophy and that the main interest of this book resides in
that it attempts to move beyond the phase of crisis
and rupture that was of the first generation of
Barthians and towards a positive attitude regarding
philosophy and culture precisely from a radically
27
Christocentric theology.”35 According to this second
generation of Barthians, which Ricœur himself
seems to endorse, their vision of the task of theology
is much more sympathetic to the aims and insights
of philosophy.
On the other hand, from Ricœur’s early student
days, he demonstrated an expanded understanding of
philosophy beyond logical positivism and history of
philosophy so as to involve concrete human existence in relation to God. In his intellectual autobiography, he notes that he wrote his master’s thesis, entitled Problem of God in Lachelier and Lagneau,
because: “I found it intellectually satisfying that
thinkers so taken with rationality and so concerned
with the autonomy of philosophical thinking had
granted a place for the idea of God.”36 His first major
scholarly works, which dealt with the existentialism
of Gabriel Marcel and Karl Jaspers, engaged thinkers that dealt with the ‘mystery’ and ‘paradox’ of
human existence and the place for philosophy and
myth. He was clearly animated by questions regarding the relationship between philosophy and Christian faith, evident in his extended review of Mehl’s
work. And even as Ricœur frequently claimed the
separation between philosophy and theology for
much of his career, late in his life, he sought to bring
them closer together. At a conference held in his
honor at Chicago, for instance, he states: “Several
speakers here have underlined my insistence on not
mixing discourses. But now I feel freer to be attentive to the correlations and even to the unwrapping
of the different fields of theology and philosophy.”37
And again, in another context, he claims, “I maintained the autonomy of philosophical reflection, attaching myself to what remains in the anthropological domain: What is human action? What is a person?...On the other hand, I rooted myself in a tradition which refers itself to the Jewish and Christian
Scriptures that are deployed in narratives, confessions of faith, ritual practices, etc. I always found
myself at the intersection points of these / two domains” [emphasis added].38 If a retrospective approach to Ricœur’s works allows for the constructive
interaction between philosophy and theology, a prospective approach through the lens of a Mehlian
Barthianism permits it on historical and textual
grounds. What emerges, then, is an expanded view
of philosophy rooted in existence and driven to theology and a theology that not only draws from but
also significantly intersects with philosophy. For
throughout the arc of his career, from existentialism
and phenomenology through hermeneutics to ethics
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
and politics, there is a parallel and overlapping move
made in his theology with respect to both methods
and concepts.
Conclusion
This paper suggested that the reason for Tillich
and Ricœur’s noticeable silence on each other’s
work was due to a fundamental difference over the
very meaning of philosophical theology. Through a
critical comparison of Tillich and Ricœur’s thought,
however, I have tried to bring them closer together:
an expanded understanding of philosophy that takes
seriously human existence and its implicit relation to
being-itself or God, a critique of natural religion that
attempts to circumscribes it within the realm of the
human, and an understanding of theology as both a
listening and an answer that draws from and contacts
with philosophy. Thus, this paper not only offers an
historical account of two discrete, but related understandings of ‘philosophical theology’ at Chicago in
the 1960s through the 1990s, but also two distinct,
but related approaches to its constructive task more
generally.
*I would like to thank Jocelyn Dunphy-Blomfield for
her encouragement and assistance and Joshua Daniel for
reading an earlier version of this paper.
1
For scholars who constructively relate Tillich’s theology of culture with Ricœur’s hermeneutics, see, for
instance, David E. Klemm, “Individuality: The Principle
of Ricœur’s Mediating Philosophy and its Bearing on
Theology of Culture,” in Meaning in Texts and Actions:
Questioning Paul Ricœur, ed. David E. Klemm and William Schweiker (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1993), 275-291; William Schweiker, “Hermeneutics, Ethics, and the Theology of Culture,” in Meaning in
Texts and Actions: Questioning Paul Ricœur, ed. David E.
Klemm and William Schweiker (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1993), 292-313.
2
The John Nuveen chair was a gift by John Nuveen
Jr. in memory of his father John Nuveen Sr., who was an
investment banker specializing in municipal bonds and
who was extraordinarily involved in the Baptist community. Nuveen Jr. himself lived a fascinating and rich life,
who had the ear of figures as disparate as Eisenhower and
Stevenson, and who served on the board of trustees at
Chicago and economic and political committees in Washington. According to his biographer and former Dean of
the Divinity School (and former assistant to Tillich at
Union Theological Seminary), Jerald Brauer, John Nu-
28
veen was pleased with the appointment of Tillich as the
first John Nuveen Professor because “in him, Nuveen
recognized a brilliant, creative mind totally dedicated to
understanding and articulating the deepest insights of the
Christian faith so that it addressed modern humans exactly where they lived.” See Jerald C. Brauer, John Nuveen: A Life of Service (Chicago: Baptist Theological
Union, 1997), 3. Nuveen passed away in 1968, just before Ricœur’s appointment, so it is impossible to know for
certain what his impressions of the French thinker would
have been.
3
Paul Tillich, “Philosophy and Theology,” in The
Protestant Era, ed. and trans. James Luther Adams (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1948), 83. Originally published in Religion in Life 10, n.1 (1941).
4
Paul Tillich, On the Boundary (New York: Charles
Scribner’s Sons, 1966), 57-58.
5
Paul Ricœur, Critique and Conviction: Conversations with François Azouvi and Marc de Launay, trans.
Kathleen Blamey (New York: Columbia University Press,
1998), 49.
6
Ibid., 42.
7
At the Fonds Ricœur in Paris, one can find his personal copy of Tillich’s Systematic Theology, volume 3,
signed by Tillich and dated to November 3, 1964.
8
Jocelyn Dunphy, Paul Tillich et le symbole religieux, preface by Paul Ricœur (Paris: Jean-Pierre Delarge,
1977), 11-14.
9
Thanks to Olivier Abel for this note.
10
Paul Ricœur, “Toward a Hermeneutic of the Idea
of Revelation,” in Essays in Biblical Interpretation, edited
by Lewis S. Mudge (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980),
96-97. Originally published in Harvard Theological Review 70, n.1-2 (1977).
11
Paul Ricœur, “Le soi dans le miroir des Écritures,”
in Amour et justice (Paris: Éditions Point, 2008), 46.
12
For instance, Tillich writes, “It sometimes strikes
me, when I read some of my earliest writings, how much
of what I believed to be a recent achievement is already
explicitly or at least implicitly contained in them.” Paul
Tillich, “Author’s Introduction,” in The Protestant Era,
ed. and trans. James Luther Adams (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1948), x-xi. See also, Paul Tillich, My Search for Absolutes (New York: Simon and
Schuster, 1967), 36.
13
In an address delivered at the Tillich Memorial
Service of the Divinity School held in Rockefeller Memorial Chapel at the University of Chicago, Eliade relates
that in his seminars with Tillich on the history of religions, “What he was accomplishing in our unforgettable
evenings was a renewal of his own Systematic Theology.”
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Mircea Eliade, “Paul Tillich and the History of Religions,” in The Future of Religions, ed. Jerald C. Brauer
(New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1966), 33. The
last public lecture that Tillich gave, entitled “The Significance of the History of Religions for the Systematic
Theologian,” concluded a conference on the history of
religions at the University of Chicago Divinity School on
October 12, 1965. See Paul Tillich, “The Significance of
the History of Religions for the Systematic Theologian,”
in The Future of Religions, 80-94. For his writings that
reflect on his experience in Japan, see Paul Tillich, Christianity and the Encounter of the World Religions (New
York: Columbia University Press, 1963). For his lectures
leading up to and following shortly after his visit, see Paul
Tillich, The Encounter of Religions and Quasi-Religions
(Lewiston: The Edwin Mellen Press, 1990).
14
In The System of the Sciences, philosophy is understood as a doctrine of the principle of meaning.
15
Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology, vol. 1 (Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 1951), vii.
16
Tillich, “Philosophy and Theology,” 84.
17
Tillich, Systematic Theology, vol. 1, 18.
18
Ibid., 18.
19
Ibid., 20, 163.
20
Tillich, “Philosophy and Theology,” 86.
21
Paul Tillich, “Relation of Metaphysics and Theology,” The Review of Metaphysics: A Philosophical Quarterly 10, n.1 (September 1956): 59.
22
Paul Tillich, “Theology and Symbolism,” in Religious Symbolism, ed. F. Ernest Johnson (New York: The
Institute for Religious and Social Studies, 1955), 108.
23
Tillich, “Relation of Metaphysics and Theology,”
61.
24
Tillich, Systematic Theology, vol. 1, 6.
25
Paul Ricœur, Oneself as Another, trans. Kathleen
Blamey (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
1992), 24.
26
Both lectures can be found in Ricœur, Amour et
justice.
27
Ricœur, Oneself as Another, p. 24.
28
Paul Ricœur, “Paul Ricœur: la foi du philosophe,”
Le Christianisme au XXème Siècle n.697 (July 11-24,
1999), p. 6.
29
Ricœur, “Le soi dans le miroir des Écritures,” in
Amour et justice, 46.
30
Paul Ricœur, “Le philosophe en face de la confession des péchés,” La Confiance n.1-2 (1957): 25. See
also Paul Ricœur, “La question de l’humanisme chrétien,”
Foi et vie n.4 (July 1951): 326. Importantly, Barth begins
his Church Dogmatics with a section entitled, “The Doctrine of the Word of God.”
29
31
Ibid., 25. See also Ricœur, “La question de
l’humanisme chrétien,” 326.
32
Paul Ricœur, Freud and Philosophy: An Essay on
Interpretation, trans. Denis Savage (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1970), 523.
33
Mark Wallace, “The World of the Text: Theological Hermeneutics in the Thought of Karl Barth and Paul
Ricœur,” Union Seminary Quarterly 41, n.1 (1986): 7.
34
Paul Tillich, “Natural and Revealed Religion,”
Christendom 1 (Autumn 1935): 159.
35
Paul Ricœur; “La condition du philosophe chrétien,” in Lectures 3. Aux frontières de la philosophie (Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 1994), 235.
36
Paul Ricœur, “Intellectual Autobiography,” in The
Philosophy of Paul Ricœur, ed. Lewis Edwin Hahn (Chicago: Open Court, 1995), 6.
37
Paul Ricœur, “Ethics and Human Capability: A Response,” in Paul Ricœur and Contemporary Moral
Thought, ed. John Wall, William Schweiker, and W.
David Hall (New York: Routledge, 2002), 283. See also
Ricœur, Critique and Conviction, 159.
38
Paul Ricœur, “Paul Ricœur. Nous sommes responsable du périssable,” L’actualité religieuse dans le monde
n.91 (July-August 1991): 44.
If you have not paid your
dues for 2013, please do so
as soon as you are able.
Thank you!
Tillich and Intellectual Disability:
Adequacy of Accounts of Faith
Courtney Wilder
I. Introduction of the Problem
What is faith? Who can be faithful? What is at
stake in the relationship between those questions?
Accounts of Christian faith vary widely within the
tradition. As Paul Tillich argues in the first pages of
Dynamics of Faith, the very term faith “…confuses,
misleads, creates alternately skepticism and fanaticism, intellectual resistance and emotional surrender,
rejection of genuine religion and subjection to substitutes.”1 Despite this state of general confusion,
Christian faith accounts do have some structural as
well as doctrinal commonalities. An important and
problematic shared expectation, but one Tillich does
not explicitly reflect upon, is the presumption that
the faithful Christian is a person of ordinary cognitive capability who can function as a moral and religious agent and who can assent to the truth of
teaching about Jesus. Tillich cares about a somewhat
different set of misconstruals; of primary concern to
Tillich in Dynamics of Faith are three distortions
specific of faith: the intellectualistic distortion,
which confuses faith with knowledge, the voluntaristic distortion, which claims that faith can be an act of
will, and the emotionalistic distortion of faith, which
frames faith as “mere feeling.”2 The first and third of
these concerns are most relevant to this discussion.
Although Tillich does not speak directly to issues of intellectual disability, his analysis of faith is
useful in assessing and addressing emerging ecclesial and spiritual problems of Christians with intellectual disabilities. So the first problem is: to what
extent are people with intellectual disabilities neglected by the Christian tradition, and how can Tillich’s analysis of faith help us assess this? The second problem is whether and to what extent Tillich’s
work offers the basis for a constructive account of
faith of people with intellectual disabilities. The interrogation here is bidirectional: I am using Tillich to
investigate the broader tradition on this question,
and then turning to Tillich’s own account of faith to
determine its adequacy for a specific population of
Christians.
My interest in this question of faith and intellectual disability is both practical and theoretical. Recently I taught a course in disability theology. I
asked a woman named Sherri who is a member of
my community to come and speak to my class. Our
kids know each other from the babysitter’s house; I
first held Sherri’s younger daughter when she was a
few months old. Sherri is an alumna of the institution where I teach, her father-in-law is one of my
colleagues, she has participated in adult education
sessions I have taught at her church, and I thought
that she might offer useful insight to my students.
Her young daughter, Macy, has Down Syndrome,
and Sherri is deeply involved in support organizations for families like hers. In addition to coming to
speak for one class session, she sat in on the class
for an entire semester, which was a great gift.
One day she mentioned that she’s working with
her church’s Sunday School teachers to modify the
curriculum so that her small daughter, who is now
three, can be included with her peers and can be
supported as she develops Christian faith. I began to
wonder: what will Macy’s experience of faith be
like? What is she capable of? Can the Christian tradition in general, and Tillich in particular, sufficiently account for her experiences in the usual descriptions of Christian faith? If Tillich can’t account
for Macy’s faith experience, his understanding of
faith is too narrow. If he can, or if his understanding
of faith can be expanded to include her experience,
then Tillich provides theological resources for an
important and understudied problem of pastoral care,
and for better understanding by Christians of what
faith is.
My argument is not simply that Macy should be
welcomed wholeheartedly into Christian life, although of course I think she should. Nor am I seeking to make a sentimental argument about the purity
of her notions of Jesus, or the need of her family for
a supportive church warranting some kind of special
exemption for her despite her disability, or the obligation of decent people to recognize her humanity
and status as a child of God, although one could
make arguments about all of those things. In fact,
one sees such positions laid out frequently, especially in the name of pastoral care for people with
disabilities and their families. Such accounts of
Christian life tend to blunder in exactly the ways that
Tillich objects to in his incisive description of what
faith is not, which makes Tillich useful in figuring
out the scope of the problem. And I am also interested in the challenge that Macy’s prospective faith
experience poses to the adequacy Tillich’s theology.
Framing my question around this particular child
offers the opportunity for a very focused investigation. Individuals with Down Syndrome vary greatly
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
in their cognitive ability.3 It is common for a person
with Down Syndrome to attend school, to learn to
read, to have deep and loving relationships with
family and friends, to attend church, to engage in
paid work, and to be a productive and contributing
member of her community. Innovative programs
offering higher education for people with Down
Syndrome have shown great promise.4 However,
people with Down Syndrome are not necessarily
recognized as faithful Christians by their religious
communities, nor is their participation necessarily
welcomed. There is also very little systematic reflection on what their faith experiences entail. This reflects a gap in Christian accounts of faith that Tillich
can help us identify more clearly, and—perhaps—
also help us solve.
II. Implications of the Problem
Models of faith that assume typical intellectual
capabilities on the part of the faithful Christian create at least two categories of problem for Christian
theology. One, what is the faith status of persons
who are either too young to properly assent and participate in faith or too old or infirm to continue in
what may have been a lifelong affirmation of Christianity? This problem is treated in a variety of ways,
typically with the goal of reasonable pastoral care
rather than strict adherence to a conception of faith.
An often-unstated premise of such treatments is that
the infant or very young person will eventually mature into a state of cognitive and moral agency, and
that a very old person has emerged from a state of
cognitive and moral agency which still covers his or
her relationship with God once typical cognition has
faded. If the very young person dies before the age
of reason, however that is calculated, modern pastoral care typically simply stipulates to the family
that the child is with God without getting overly
concerned about the child’s own particular capacity
for faith. We might well ask a series of questions
about those solutions, but I wish to bracket that discussion as not the focus of this paper.
The second category of problem, which is the
focus of this paper, is less well-treated and remains
under-examined within Christian practice. What are
the faith experiences of people with intellectual disabilities, whose cognitive capabilities may never
reach the idealized state of rational moral agents?
Can they experience faith? If so, do accounts of faith
developed with a normative assumption of typical
intellectual status be adequate to describe the faith of
31
persons with intellectual disabilities? By focusing on
people with Down Syndrome, I’m deliberately not
taking up in this paper a the most difficult version of
this question: What can we say about the possible
faith experiences of human beings who are nonverbal, who have very little demonstrable cognitive activity, whose families and caretakers can treat them
with great love but who have very few ways of responding? While that is a related and compelling
issue it is also a problem for another day.
The field of disability theology is entering a second generation and offers a wide range of resources,
both practical and theoretical, although the particular
question I’m posing has not been well-addressed.
Theologian John Swinton notes, “…[R]eflection on
disability (particularly disabilities that relate to intellect and reason: the prized assets of liberal society)
is seen as a way of cracking open false assumptions
and revealing the true nature of God and human beings.”5 He echoes the concerns Tillich expresses regarding the focus of faith (on that which is genuinely
absolute) and the mode of faith as ultimate concern
rather than knowledge or feeling or will. Thus
Swinton points to the importance of something that
is exactly Tillich’s sort of task—the recognition and
rejection of inadequate accounts of the relationship
between God and human beings. Related issues of
pastoral care, an important focus of disability theology, help underscore the importance of examining
Christian accounts of faith critically and carefully.
III. What can Tillich offer?
Dynamics of Faith offers an analysis of what
kinds of theological claims Christians make about
faith and how coherent and theologically sound they
are. Tillich’s robust critique of various constructs of
faith, mentioned above, can easily be expanded to
address the problem at hand. One thing that faith is
not, says Tillich, is “…an act of knowledge that has
a low degree of evidence.”6 This is not a claim that
faith does not depend on cognition, but a claim that
faith is not adherence to truth claims that seem, on
face value, to be false. Tillich is not addressing the
veracity of various truth claims within the Christian
tradition here, although he does in other places. He
is also not arguing that faith is unrelated to the content of Christian teaching. What he does say here is
that being a faithful Christian does not depend on a
distorted notion of assent to truth claims.
This position of Tillich’s reflects the influence
of both Schleiermacher and existentialism on his
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
work, and it helps distinguish the experience of faith
from issues of doctrinal adherence. Tillich’s position
also offers an opening for us to ask the question of
whether the claim that faith is not about knowledge
gives us a basis to question the degree to which faith
is about cognition. What is at stake here for the ordinary Christian? Faith constructs that require standard
cognitive abilities on the part of the faithful to comprehend specific doctrines or affirm of Jesus’ identity are common and have some unexpected consequences, like exclusion of people with intellectual
disabilities from full participation in Christian life.
(We can think of this as the Macy problem.) This
includes, for example, regular exclusion from attendance at religious services, and from receiving standard theological instruction—hence the concern of
Macy’s mother that her Sunday School teachers
have a plan to include her.7 One study of intellectually disabled people and their religious lives described the experience of one man who was not
permitted to attend the funeral of his own father,
although he expressed desire to attend and to pray
for his father.8 Young people with Down Syndrome
seeking baptism in traditions emphasizing “believer’s baptism” have been discouraged from participating in the ritual.9
Intellectual disabled people are sometimes prevented from participating in Eucharist out of concern
that they don’t understand what is happening. In
fact, this remains official Roman Catholic policy:
“As presented in the U.S. bishops’ Guidelines for
the Celebration of the Sacraments with Persons with
Disabilities, the requirement that a communicant
possess sufficient ‘use of reason’ to distinguish regular bread from consecrated elements still prevents
some with Down’s from Communion.”10 These
kinds of ecclesial decisions presume an intellectual
and cognitive baseline for faith, and that baseline is
set fairly high. The decision about whether a particular person with Down Syndrome is eligible to receive the sacrament also seems to be left up to individual parish priests, leaving open the possibility for
uneven treatment of people with Down Syndrome
from congregation to congregation. A British research participant named Jill reported, “‘Well, I did
make my first confession…But when my mam was
alive the priest come round to the house because I’m
Downs syndrome and that; and he actually upset my
mam by saying that I’m Downs Syndrome and I
don’t know what…he was saying to my mam that I
don’t know about religion… I’d love to make my
communion with everyone standing around me the
32
whole family, except my mam who isn’t with me
anymore.’”11 So a model of faith that associates it
too strongly with knowledge excludes those whose
cognitive abilities are deemed insufficient. Jill’s
community, with full doctrinal support, excluded her
from the sacraments on the basis of her intellect.
What can Tillich offer us here? Can he speak to
the experience of Jill, who expressed desire to participate in the sacrament of communion but was
deemed cognitively incapable? Tillich has both a
critique and a positive description of faith in response to the problem he sees of distortions of the
notion of faith. He writes, “[F]aith is more than trust
in even the most sacred authority. It is participation
in the subject of one’s ultimate concern with one’s
whole being.”12 In Tillich’s view faith is experiential, rather than grounded in knowledge; he argues
that equating faith with knowledge is actually a terrible mistake. This is important because if faith is
not identical with knowledge of doctrine, then a door
opens for faith experiences of those with intellectual
disabilities. Put bluntly, if Tillich is correct in his
rejection of faith framed as assent to truth claims,
then one’s IQ is neither a guarantee of faith nor a
barrier to it.
However, Tillich has not yet solved all our problems or pointed us clearly to an understanding of
faith for intellectually disabled people. Nor can we
use Tillich to adopt a notion of faith as feeling something about the divine; this is the third distortion of
faith that he identifies. Clearly for Tillich, faith does
involve some cognition. For instance, he writes,
“Faith is the most centered act of the human mind.”13
He moves to a discussion of Freud and the ego, superego, and id, and then continues,
This leads to the question of how faith as a personal, centered act is related to the rational structure
of man’s personality which is manifest in his meaningful language, in his ability to know the true and
do the good, in his sense of beauty and justice. All
this, and not only his possibility to analyze, to calculate and to argue, makes him a rational being.14
This suggests that for Tillich, essential components to faith are language, some ability to distinguish between right and wrong, freedom to act, and
some appreciation for beauty and an ability to comprehend justice. Moreover, Tillich argues that faith
“lives in many forms” and that “Every religious and
cultural group and, to a certain degree, every individual is the bearer of special experience and content
of faith.”15 This is somewhat ambiguous; what Tillich means by “to a certain degree” is unclear. How-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
ever, he neither reduces faith to an intellectual experience nor holds that it is non-cognitive, arguing,
“…we must deny that man’s essential nature is identical with the rational character of his mind.”16 Tillich also emphasizes the necessity of understanding
something about God. He writes, “There is no faith
without a content toward which it is directed. There
is always something meant in the act of faith.”17 So,
while Tillich does not specifically take up issues of
intellectual disability, he does offer specific aspects
of human experience that are components of faith.
Does this characterization offer us enough to begin
work on a Tillichian account of faith of people with
intellectual disabilities?
III. Current Situation
We might ask first: what other resources in the
Christian tradition, and specifically within disability
theology, do we have to help with this analysis?
Many attempts to address the question of faith of
people with intellectual disabilities emerge from
pastoral care concerns, and they typically include
somewhat sentimental claims about the evident faith
of people with intellectual disabilities. I find these
approaches largely dissatisfying. For example, one
professor of theology argues that he “… can find no
biblical text telling us forthrightly that mentally disabled people who cannot confess Jesus Christ as
Savior are ‘under God’s salvation.’ As I read the
New Testament, I can find only one path to salvation—the path of an informed faith in Jesus
Christ.”18 However, he is unwilling to posit the damnation of the intellectually disabled, noting instead
that “[People with intellectual disabilities] rarely
allow doubt to overtake their faith the way we rational believers sometimes do.”19 This, plus the
author’s conviction that God is a God of love, permits him to argue for the salvation of persons with
intellectual disability.
This is kindness of a sort, and certainly an improvement on a position that requires full assent to
Jesus as savior for salvation, but it is not a very good
argument. The dubious loophole offered to people
with intellectual disabilities is their inability to
doubt, a description of faith that would be from a
Tillichian perspective hardly be an improvement
over the notion of faith that is being addressed. Tillich writes, “If faith is understood as belief that
something is true, doubt is incompatible with the act
of faith. If faith is understood as being ultimately
concerned, doubt is a necessary element in it. It is a
33
consequence of the risk of faith.”20 Thus the writer is
unwilling to problematize the overall framing of
faith, but wishes to include people with disabilities
on the grounds that God surely loves them. Thus
sentimentality and kindness, no matter how wellmeaning, do not solve the theological problem under
discussion in a rigorous way.
What can people with intellectual disabilities
do? We will recall that Tillich offered a collection of
criteria for what faith requires. He does not focus
exclusively on rationality, instead including requirements of some language, an ability to discern
right and wrong, some freedom of action, and an
ability to recognize beauty and justice. A British
study of people with intellectual disabilities (including but not limited to people with Down Syndrome,
described as people who “were current users of adult
services for people with intellectual disabilities”21)
found a number of interesting patterns that speak to
Tillich’s criteria. First, the study subjects were typically able to articulate their religious identity, explain central doctrines of their faith traditions like
the incarnation and resurrection, and express a point
of view about what their religious participation was
and what they thought of it.22 The study’s authors
also reported findings of ethical concern for other
people on behalf of their subjects: “A Christian man
and a Muslim woman in the study outlined that they
felt a religious obligation to help people. Both individuals felt that they wanted a role within their
community where they could help others who they
saw as being less fortunate than themselves.”23 Significantly, some participants of the study had converted as adults to traditions different from those
practiced by their families of origin.24 The study also
found that “Some interviewees particularly liked
aspects of the atmosphere of the place of worship
and the religious ceremonies, including the ritual
sense of the sacred often present in services, and
bible reading.” A participant named Ian reported that
he enjoyed, “‘High church and the incense, swinging
incense, you know…and the church choir.’”25
These narratives suggest that there is at great
possibility of faith—as Tillich characterizes it - on
the part of people with Down Syndrome and other
similar intellectual disabilities. Tillich’s concern that
faith not be reduced to intellect or certain sorts of
relationships to truth claims, nor to pure emotional
experience, but instead reflect a range of human experiences, offers the framework for a more robust
description of Christian faith experiences of intellectual disabled people. However, Tillich is not before
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
his time on the issue of intellectual disability, and
does not appear to have considered the possibility of
a person with below-average intellectual capacity
having experiences of faith. So while Tillich does
not solve the Macy problem for us, he does provide
a rich, multi-dimensional description of faith that
could with further theological development be used
as a basis for regarding this particular child as a
member of her religious community and a faithful
Christian.
1
Tillich, p. xviii
Tillich, p. 39
3
Maatta et al; http://www.downsyndrome.org/reports/313/
4
Gose, Chronicle of Higher Education, “For Students With Intellectual Disabilities, a Program Provides a
New Path to Careers”. 9/30/2011, Vol. 58, Issue 6
5
Swinton, p. 277
6
Tillich, p. 31
2
“Belief W ithout Borders: Theological Perspectives on the Rise
in ‘N ones’”
L INDA M ERCADANTE
Is it possible that the organization that hosts us
today could be someday called the American Academy of Spirituality instead of the American Academy
of Religion? I ask this because of the large and growing numbers of Americans who do not want to be
identified with any religion. As you are know, there
is a very well documented rise in people not involved in any organized religion. According to recent surveys, more than one in five Americans are
“nones,” i.e., unaffiliated with any religious tradition. For those under 30, the number rises to more
than one in three, and could possibly be much
higher. Take a look at a survey, done in October
2011 by the well-respected Pew Forum, entitled
“‘Nones’ on the Rise,” and you will realize that this
train won’t be stopped. Paul Tillich, with his
ground-breaking work in theology and culture,
would have had a field-day analyzing this trend.1
Each year during the 1990s, 1.3 million adults
joined the ranks of the “nones.”2 Now there are more
“nones” in America than mainline Protestants.3 Note
that this is the same decade that saw a rise in conservative Christianity, including its political involve-
34
7
Turner, p. 169
Turner et all p. 165
9
Gaventa, Disability Studies Quarterly, Vol. 26, No.
4, 2006. http://dsq-sds.org/article/view/815/990
10
Cones, p. 50
11
Turner et al, p. 169
12
Tillich, p. 32
13
Tillich, p. 4
14
Tillich, p. 6
15
Tillich, p. 55
16
Tillich, p. 7
17
Tillich, p. 10
18
Smedes, p. 94
19
Smedes, p. 94
20
Tillich, p. 18
21
Turner, p. 162
22
Turner [p. ]
23
Turner, et al, p. 165
24
Turner et al, p. 167
25
Turner et al, p. 167
8
ment, and you might want to ponder if there is any
connection. During this same period there was also
some modest increase in the number of those identified with non-Christian religion, but that was small
compared to the rise in “nones.” In fact, the amount
of self-identified “nones” more than doubled between 1990 and 2001, going from 14.3 million to
29.4 million.4 Between the beginning of this century
and today, that number has now risen to 46 million.5
As I indicated earlier, the largest percentage of
“nones” is among young adults, ranging from one
third to perhaps even three quarters of all adults under 30. According to surveys, there is no sign that
this surge is simply a transitional youthful phase.
Instead, it seems to be a permanent pattern.6 Although this trend is not yet universally apparent
across the country, it seems like a train that can not
be stopped.7
Given the decline of permanent religious affiliation among growing numbers of Americans, we
seem to be moving to a “religion of no religion.”8 As
Paul Heelas remarks, “It is not an exaggeration to
say that [we] are living through the most radical period of spiritual religious change of belief since
Christianity took root [in the Western world].”9 One
thing to keep in mind, however, is that these “nones”
are not all simply secular. Thus the secularization
theory is not necessary proved by this surge. Even
less are these people largely atheist. According to
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Pew surveys mentioned earlier, some 68% say they
believe in God or a Universal Spirit. Many express a
deep connection with nature and the earth. Some of
them even pray regularly. Many, although not all, of
these identify themselves as “spiritual but not religious” [SBNR]. These are the people I have been
most concerned with over the last five years, when I
have been meeting, interviewing them and analyzing
their beliefs. Of course, not all “nones” are “SBNR.”
In fact, only 37% of the “nones” describe themselves
this way. Even less, are they all what religious people hope for, i.e. “seekers.” For only 10% of the unaffiliated are actually looking for a new spiritual
home. These are Pew’s numbers.10
So why the rise in the unaffiliated? Pew categorizes the many existing theories into three main
ones: (1) Political backlash: i.e., religion is seen as
too entangled with conservative politics, coming
across as judgmental, homophobic, hypocritical, etc.
and this alienates people, especially more liberal
ones. (2) Demographic: With recent generations
delaying marriage, not marrying, and/or delaying
bearing children or not bearing them, this has a profound effect on religion simply because married
people, especially those with children, are more
likely to have a religious affiliation. Also, against
stereotype, Americans not becoming more religious
as they age. (3) Broad social disengagement: According to Robert Putnam in Bowling Alone, as well
as other social commentators, there is an increasing
decline in membership, organizational loyalty and
“social capital,” in general.11 So the rise in “nones”
may be just one manifestation of this.
And yet, in spite of all this, we have seen a rise
in non-religious spirituality. It’s hot and it’s for sale.
The evidence of this is all around us. Putting a spiritual ribbon on everything has become very popular.
You can’t avoid it whether you partake in a yoga
class at your local community center or attend a
full-fledged residential retreat at a non-religious
place such as the Omega Institute or Esalen. Given
our market economy, spirituality outside organized
religious channels has become big business.
But should we be encouraged or discouraged by
all this? What are we really seeing? Tillich might
have as many questions as we do in the face of this
new trend. For instance: Is this an idolatrous situation? A replacement for transcendence and revelation? Are we simply seeing the doubts and anxieties
of secularized peoples being expressed and even,
thanks to our economic system, increasingly commodified and offered back to them for sale? Or are
35
we witnessing the infinite making itself known
through the finite? Are we seeing the freedom of
God making the divine self known in ways that may
positively scandalize religious people? Is this a “new
theonomy” breaking into a religiously exhausted
culture, or a culture exhausted by religion? Was the
early Tillich right after all? And if it is this second
option, can this possibly be read through the lens of
popular culture, especially as it is captured, branded,
marketed and sold by the media and the culture industry? The answer to these large questions has yet
to emerge. In the meantime, we would do well to
pay attention.
I have been doing in-depth research on “nones,”
in particular the SBNRs, for over five years. My
book with Oxford University Press, entitled Belief
Without Borders: Inside the Minds of the Spiritual
But Not Religious,” will be available in March 2014.
I took an approach different from others. Rather than
studying the cultural products, church efforts to attract, or even the emerging institutions that attract
them, I decide to study the people themselves. Based
on one hundred extensive interviews, several focus
groups, many site visits and hundreds of informal
conversations, this is a work of qualitative analysis.
Although, unlike the quantitative analysis of surveys, this work makes no claim to be representative,
my research accords with the many surveys taken on
the unaffiliated in the last decade or so. But my work
goes into one important area that surveys either do
not or cannot do. I focus on a very under-studied
area, i.e., the beliefs of SBNRs.
Why would a theologian use qualitative analysis? For one thing, very little qualitative work has
been done on the SBNRs, or even on the “nones.”
Perhaps this is a reaction against a perceived overfocus on beliefs in a formerly hegemonic Protestanttinged American civil religious climate. Second,
qualitative research can help us ferret out a fuller
picture of beliefs than surveys. Qualitative research
helps us get below theories that may have caused us
to minimize, homogenize, or miss core aspects in the
spiritual lives of SBNRs. The sheer fact that not
much qualitative work has been done on belief, especially that of spiritual seekers, makes this needed.
Although I won’t go into my methodology in detail
here, I do want to mention that I recorded all my
interviews—which lasted sometimes two hours
long—transcribed them, loaded them into a dedicated program for this type of research, and then did
a sort of “content analysis,” searching for theological
themes. And I found them.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Why did I focus on belief? It seems counterintuitive at first glance because many SBNRs take a
decidedly anti-dogmatic stance against religious belief in general. They contend not only that belief is
non-essential, but it is potentially harmful or at least
a hindrance to spirituality. In fact, many contend that
any insistence on truth claims, religious belief, or
conceptual clarity is really the hegemonic thoughtcontrol of organized religion. Even more people today make a conceptual dismemberment of religion
and spirituality, even though both words imply
common elements—transcendence, ritual, belief and
practice.
But what we need to realize is that the sharp
separation of religion from spirituality is more strategy than philosophy, a way to get out from under the
external constraints of authorities, traditions, or institutional bonds, and personalize one’s spiritual
quest. In fact, the many people I spoke with did care
deeply about their beliefs. Their refusal, for instance,
to commit to any group unless they could fully subscribe to all its principles, is just one of the many
factors which demonstrate this. When I delved below the seemingly programmatic assertions of my
interviewees, I found something quite unlike either a
general rejection of belief. Nor did I find a routine
catalog of basically standard Christian beliefs simply
divorced from institutional affiliation, i.e., believing
without belonging. I also did not find total anarchy,
total “Sheilaism,” simply “salad bar” spirituality.
Instead, I found a third alternative, an emerging consensual narrative.
My conversation partners are spread across the
continent (as well as from other Western nations)
and are a diverse group age-wise, socioeconomically, racially and regarding sexual orientation. In order to determine who would fit my profile,
I had to depart from standard measures of religiosity
(membership, personal claims) and from the usual
measures of belief (mostly Protestant standards, such
as belief in the inerrancy or literal interpretation of
Scripture). The main criteria was that my potential
conversation partners self-identified primarily as
“spiritual but not religious” regardless of their practices. What I found was that—rather than being distinguished by their spiritual practices—these were
folks who had instead made an emotional commitment not to believe certain things, no matter where
they might sit on a Sunday morning. I found they
fell into several types, which I have labeled: dissenters, explorers, casuals, seekers and immigrants. I
36
cannot spin all this out here, but the book will go
into great detail on these types.
Thus, although we may speak about “lived religion,” we should also speak about “lived theology.”
For I was hearing a growing rejection of organized
religion for reasons I would call theological, as well
as an emerging set of alternative beliefs. When approaching the question of religious belief in America, the change today is not in having beliefs or not
having them. Instead, the change has come in several
key areas: (1) where the “locus of authority” lies; (2)
whether or not one has the ability, or is willing to
make the effort, to discern the beliefs underlying
various the spiritual practices one uses; (3) whether
or not one has been given the conceptual tools to
discriminate among belief claims; (4) whether or not
one finds hybridity and syncretism an improvement
on orthodoxy, or is simply unaware of conflicting
claims. Although my respondents were clearly making an emotional commitment not to believe certain
things, even choosing expressivism over rationality,
they were still concerned with actual beliefs.
Before going on, let me also be clear what I’m
not saying: I’m not saying that the cognitive element
is the only important element in religion or spirituality. I’m not saying that people, if they claim a religious tradition, must agree with it in order to be
counted, to be good, to be real practitioners. I am not
saying that people cannot conduct their religious and
spiritual lives until they get their ideas settled. I am
not saying that heterogeneity in belief—or hybrid
identity—is a new thing, at least in practice if not in
overt avowal.12 Nor am I saying that each person has
a fully worked out systematic theology, nor that
people are always integrated wholes, with belief and
behavior totally in sync. For even among believers,
we know we cannot simply assume a deep and consistent “religious congruence” between a person’s
professed beliefs and their attitudes or behavior.13
Indeed, it has always been obvious to religious leaders that there are many “fuzzy” faithful sitting in
their pews, people who are neither completely clear,
completely in agreement, nor completely faithful to
the tenets of their religion.14 What is different, however, is that my interviewees seem to be promoting
or affirming this, rather than hiding or denying it.
What can be gained from this research? First,
my initial assumptions—which were the assumptions of many in religious circles—were wrong.
Thus, I found that, among my interviewees: (1) few
have been hurt by religion; (2) few are looking to
“settle down,” i.e., to find a new spiritual home, and
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
(3) their beliefs are not simply “salad bar” theology.
Of course, much depends upon the type of interviewee we examine. For those I call the “casuals,”
there is an eclectic, “as-needed” approach to belief.
For those I found who were genuinely “seekers,”
they sometimes resist and sometimes try to reconcile
previous religious beliefs. Many often saw the examination of belief—or the rejection of it—as an
important transitional stage in their spiritual growth.
For those I call “spiritual explorers,” they often are
looking for interesting ideas and practices, with a
kind of “doctrine of universal truth” as their touchstone. I found true hybridity only in some interviewees but did find syncretism championed and embraced, albeit not always at a deep conceptual level.
Indeed, syncretism was not a dirty word to them but
more a matter of pride
As for the shift in locus of authority, there is a
clear trend toward “self-spirituality” or the sacralization of self. That was true among virtually all my
interviewees. They see themselves as responsible for
own liberation, their own spiritual growth, and their
own truth. They see the self as the seat and arbiter of
all that. They also commonly believe that their lives
were broken—for a variety of reasons—but could
very well be fixed. Thus their constant search for
techniques and teachers. Also common is the psychologizing of spirituality. Indeed, psychology has
replaced religion or theology for many. As I said
earlier, there is an emotional commitment not to believe and a clear “detraditioning” going on. The
convergence of psychology and shift in locus of
authority means that, for many of my interviewees,
the ego—which represents external, yet internalized
and inauthentic, tradition—is not always to be
trusted. Instead, the Self must be liberated from the
tyranny of both external authority and also the surface ego, which has been molded by those authorities. As a result, there are a host of psychotherapeutic, artistic, and spiritual practices called into service
to make this happen. In my book, I show how some
of these trends are clearly echoes of a Western liberal religious heritage.
Another important common factor is a kind of
“Theology of Universal Truth” among the interviewees. They denigrate or minimize religion and
couple this with a “perennialism” or “cosmopolitanism” which sees all religions as essentially the same,
and also equally misguided in their ancillary features. Instead, they feel they have access—even better than the actual practitioners—to the hidden wisdom in all traditions. Thus, the institutional equiva-
37
lent of “ego operations” creates the distinctions.
They feel that religious mystics have been the few
always in touch with this special knowledge. Clearly
there is a gnostic element in SBNR theology. That
is, only they, the enlightened, see this hidden wisdom in all religions and also have the power of separating the wheat from the chaff.
As for ethics, there are some values held in
common but the arch principle is tolerance. My conversation partners do not want to make too many
moral claims on themselves or on others. They want
to reduce all action to personal choice. And they often have trouble asserting that there is “good” and
“evil.” However, there is also a selective focus on
certain contemporary “virtues” such as compassion
and tolerance, while other traditional virtues such as
charity, hope, and diligence are minimized.
As for specifically theological issues, my interviewees have some themes in common. They reject
male imagery for the divine or the transcendent dimension. They reject simplistic divine interventionism. Indeed, they question transcendence in itself
and also often reject any personal, self-conscious or
communicative God figure. In addition, they reject
certain beliefs they identify with organized religion,
such as exclusivism and teleology. These are seen as
childish and/or hegemonic, destructive, or repressive
of true self. Although their cosmology is monistic, I
did not find the pantheism I expected. Nature was a
soothing force to them, and helped clear away the
ego operations caused by tradition, but it was not
worshipped per se by very many. Exceptions can be
made for some interviewees in the Pacific Northwest
Mountain states, where with nature’s grandeur, you
might expect it.
Even though they rejected divine intervention,
many nevertheless exhibited a belief in a type of
providence or grace. Here they showed a somewhat
interventionist theology where guidance, intuition,
and spiritual flow exists. While this seems in conflict
with their impersonal, non-self-conscious nontranscendent Oneness, they professed it anyway.
However, the guidance they sought was often not
directed at them personally. Instead, it was more like
a power strip, so you could plug in or not. Yet their
own ability to tap in assumed there is a force wanting to shower benevolence on them, even if it isn’t a
conscious or personal being. In addition, they saw
the universal “oneness” as non-demanding by definition. They often focused on emerging consciousness.
Even the “oneness,” although often seen as nonconscious, could evolve in this direction.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
As for human nature, my interviewees felt that
the truly spiritual person is one who is “awake” or
“conscious.” They indicated that an awakened person could recognize and even give consciousness to
this transcendent force through their own selfconsciousness. So rather than asking how humans
could have self-consciousness—if they came about
this by random action or energy—instead they see
the force or source as striving to attain selfconsciousness through the believers personal
growth. This is what made me postulate that for
many, the “believer” is almost functioning as God’s
“therapist” bringing the One to consciousness.
Many, however, saw themselves instead as “God-intraining.” This process involved getting into alignment with their true nature. Some themes we might
expect among this cohort were not often found. Very
few had a gnostic emanation theory of “creation.”
There was little dualism, certainly not of good versus evil version. When it did exist, it was often
male/female in nature, certainly in the more consciously pagan interviewees. These did not represent
a high percentage of my conversation partners, however. What about Jesus? If he was thought of at all, it
was more as a guru, Bodhisattva, spiritual guide, or
enlightened master. I realize that to many religious
scholars, many of these themes seem to indicate a
“turn to the East.” However, I found very few “immigrants” to other religions. Instead, I saw a distinctively American product, a borrowing, adapting, and
selectively using aspects from Eastern, folk, and
other religions.
As suggestive as my research proved to be,
there are still many unanswered questions, particularly theological ones. Here are just some of them:
Regarding the sacred dimension in their beliefs, are
we simply seeing a new recognition of mystery of
God, God’s hidden side? Or are we moving into
non-theism? As for their overarching cosmology, is
this really monism, or instead a nascent understanding of being “in Christ” or moving into “heart of
God”? Is this immanence a form of paganism or just
a deeper sense of the immanence of God in all creation?
Regarding human nature: Is this truly a sacralization of the self, or in fact a deeper sense of the
imago dei? Is this the end of human nature as distinct, or is it instead a greater appreciation of everything as God’s creation? Is the self-spirituality a version of sanctification, perhaps a new appreciation of
“theosis,” or simply modern individualistic selffocus? Or is it a way to protect against the anonym-
38
ity and bureaucratization of our post-modern world?
As for theology in general, are we seeing a new epistemology, even the decline of rationality, or is this
trend simply a protest, a revamping, or a corrective
to an overly cognitive Christianity? Are we seeing
the end of belief as a factor in faith, or instead a
deeper
appreciation
for
the
experiential/emotive/expressivist dimensions? Is this the triumph of liberal Protestantism, taking its unmediated
access to God to its logical conclusion? Or are we
simply broadening our understandings, bringing
some Eastern theology into a Western perspective?
And will the foreign soil make a difference in
whether or how the seed grows?
And what about community? Are we seeing a
new and expanded version of “Sheilaism,” a private
individualized “religion?” Or is this, rather, the end
of collectivity based on hierarchy, imposition, or
inequality and the beginning of cooperation based on
choice/intention/good will? From a sociological perspective, are seeing a giant step toward Euro-style
secularization or, instead, a protest of it (and modernity)? Is this an individualistic niche-marketing of
spirituality, a designer version of consumerism, the
interior decorating of the capitalistic “soul”? Or is it
just a necessary adaptation to our economic system?
Even more, does this critique cut deeper, implicitly
providing a countervailing force to consumerist
capitalism?
And what about the common good? What’s going to be the effect of this rise in “nones” on American democracy, on institutions, on idea of the common good which seems to assume some basic
agreement or presuppositions or common values?
Will we find religious freedom enhanced or, rather,
constrained, because of this trend? For if religion is
so individualized, diverse and fragmented, what does
freedom of religion mean in the end? And how can it
be accommodated? (Think of the military, prisons,
schools). What will be the fate of institutions which
were built on religious frames? Going forward, will
we be left with only two versions of religion, the
“hard” version [exclusivist, superior] and the “soft”
version, the SBNR? Will liberal religion be edged
out or starved out [whether that is Islam, Christianity, or Judaism]? Or does this SBNR trend imply,
instead, the triumph of liberal values? Will we have
secularism for the many, but the hard version of religion for some?
These are just some of the questions I am left
with after this project. But some things are beginning to come clear. For, rather than “salad bar” spiri-
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
tuality, I believe we are seeing a nascent and possibly cohesive emerging narrative which could, possibly, become a “meta-narrative” or even a “sacred
canopy” for a new era.
1
For worldwide comparisons, see “The Global Religious Landscape,” Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life,
Dec. 18, 2012, and Oct. 2012 report “Nones on the Rise,”
www.pewforum.org For a summary, see Kimberly
Winston, Religious News Service, Dec. 19, 2012, “Unbelief is now the world’s third largest ‘religion.’”
www.washingtonpost.com
2
American Religious Index Survey, Barry A.
Kosmin and Ariela Keysar, 2008.
3
Estimates vary, but research indicates that “nones”
make up anywhere from 19-25% of Americans, and the
amount is still growing. Surveys are a recent scientific
tool, so it is difficult to speculate with any accuracy how
many “nones” existed before polls began. Some say the
1950s and 60s should not be taken as the historical norm.
But for much of the 20th and 21st centuries, this reality has
been well documented by both scientific and popular surveys. See, for instance, the American Religious Identification Survey [ARIS 2008], Barry A. Kosmin and Ariela
Keysar, Trinity College; the Pew Forum on Religion &
Public Life, Faith in Flux: Changes in Religious Affiliation in the U.S., 2009; also see their Religion Among the
Millennials, Feb. 2010; Knights of Columbus, Marist
Poll, American Millennials: Generations Apart, Feb.
2010; Newsweek, “Spirituality in America,” Aug. 29Sept.5, 2005; Parade, “Has America Become More Spiritual?” Oct. 4, 2009. Estimates of the “nones” vary greatly.
Putnam in chapter one of American Grace puts the percentage of “nones” at 19% and that of mainline Protestants at 17%; Robert Putnam, American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us [New York: Simon &
Schuster, 2012]. The television show “Religion and Ethics Newsweekly” also did a three part series on this group
in the fall of 2012. In Jan. 2013, National Public Radio
did a series of shows on “nones” on its popular “Morning
Edition.” For reference to decline in mainline Protestantism, see e.g., William McKinney, “Crunching the numbers,” The Christian Century, April 2, 2012.
4
Barry Kosmin and Areala Keyser, Religion in a
Free Market: Religious and Non-Religious Americans,
Who, What, Why, Where, [Ithaca, NY: Paramount Books,
2006], p. 24.
5
Pew Forum “Nones on the Rise” p. 9
6
Pew Forum, Religion Among the Millennials, 2010;
LifeWay Research Aug. 2009 survey of 1200 Millennials.
7
At one presentation I gave at The Collegeville Institute, Dr. Carolyn Schneider, a professor from Texas Lu-
39
theran University in Sequin, TX assured me that most of
the students in her “Religion in the U.S.” class had never
heard the term “spiritual but not religious.” All under 21,
they were nearly uniformly from conservative Christian
backgrounds. They were confused by the phrase at first,
thinking that spirituality must be a pejorative term if it
was de-linked from religion. But after some explanation,
they rapidly appropriated the popular connotation that
“spiritual” meant one had a vital, living faith, and that to
just be “religious” without it, meant one was a hypocrite.
Thanks to Dr. Scheider for sharing this vignette.
8
One who has used this term is Jeffrey Kripal in his
book Esalen: America and the Religion of No Religion,
[University of Chicago Press, 2008).
9
Paul Heelas, Spiritualities of Life: New Age Romanticism and Consumptive Capitalism, [Blackwell, 2008],
pp.74-5.
10
Pew, “‘Nones’ on the Rise.”
11
Pew, “‘Nones’ on the Rise,” and Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community, [Touchstone by Simon & Schuster,
2001].
12
E.g., The Pew Forum, “Many Americans Mix Multiple Faiths,” Dec. 2009.
13
In his 2009 presidential address to the Society for
the Scientific Study of Religion, Mark Chaves challenged
this problematic assumption. See “Rain Dances in the
Dry Season: Overcoming the Religious Congruence Fallacy,” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion (2010)
49(1): 1-14.
14
One study looks at this issue in Europe which has
been longer on the trajectory towards the decline in religious affiliation. See David Voas, “The Rise and Fall of
Fuzzy Fidelity in Europe,” European Sociological Review, Vol. 25, No 2, 2009, 155-168.
If you have not paid your
dues for 2013, please do so
as soon as you are able.
Thank you!
Music as theology: Using Tillich’s
theology of culture to understand
the prophetic and theological in
popular music
Meredith A. Holladay
It is difficult to begin to write about the darkness
of life—pain, suffering, death, grief. These experiences often seem so immensely and profoundly personal that speaking about them runs the risk of becoming sterile or inauthentic. Music, as writers
across disciplines insist, can express what ‘mere’
words cannot. Melody, rhythm, poetry, and the experience of all that (both in the creation and consumption of the product) can serve as cathartic and
through that help teach us who we are, and how we
struggle. Using Tillich as foundational, I put forth a
theological aesthetic that is grounded in the tradition
of human life, thought, and experience, as interpreted through a Christian lens. In a 1956 article,
Tillich wrote, ‘“the Church listens to prophetic
voices outside itself, in judgment both on culture and
on the Church in so far as it is a part of culture. Most
such voices come from persons who are not active
members of the manifest Church.’”1 Music, as a
unique cultural form—the combined biography, music and lyrics, and the audience reception—offers
overwhelming support for locating genuine theological reflection and prophetic witness outside the
walls of the institutional church.
Tillich’s correlational method offers an entry
point for pieces of and voices from the larger culture
to help shape our theological answers. In fact, he
argues, the culture must shape our theology. Though
he does not extend it explicitly to popular culture or
popular music more specifically, it seems both an
easy and obvious application of his method. For Tillich, art and culture have a transformative power in
our world. If art and culture contain means by which
we understand ourselves, and if we are confronted
with the indisputable reality of human life and divine truth, then we cannot help but be changed by
it.2
Tillich describes that ‘“the two indirect ways of
expressing ultimate reality are philosophy. . . and
art.’”3 Human culture contains the potential for revelatory power, promise and potential. In Theology
and Culture, he argues that in recognizing the meaning found within culture that we in turn learn something about ourselves, both individually and as
communal beings, and in turn we are able to learn
something about God.4
Cultural forms, specifically music, can fill the
role and shape the form of theological reflection.
Because theology is contextual—it is personal, specific, lived, and because it is descriptive in so far as
its substance and style are narrative, we can identify
the function of theology in the cultural forms around
us.
Theological reflection emerges from particular
contexts, experiences and praxes, or else it is void of
application, of meaning, of substance. Not only
through abstract, theoretical reflection, but also
through the day-to-day activities of the living community—through its context—theology finds concrete application, both in its ‘problems’ and in its
answers. Theology is—and must be—personal and
specific because, according to Tillich, ‘“the object of
theology is that which concerns us ultimately. Only
those propositions are theological which deal with
their object in so far as it can become a matter of
ultimate concern for us.’”5
Tillich further defines theology as ‘“a help in
answering questions.’”6 His method of correlation is
consistent with the experience of being human:
‘“Being human means asking the questions of one’s
own being and living under the impact of the answers given to this question. And, conversely, being
human means receiving answers to the question of
one’s own being and asking questions under the impact of the answers.’” Therefore, the correlation of
theological method ‘“makes an analysis of the human situation out of which the existential questions
arise, and it demonstrates that the symbols used in
the Christian message are the answers to these questions.’”7 Theology, therefore, deals with specific
questions of human experience.
An couple of examples to illustrate this first
principle would be the song, ‘“Dear God’” by Monsters of Folk, and ‘“Idea #21 (Not Too Late)’” by
Over the Rhine. The song ‘“Dear God,’” essentially
is an expression of the ages-old problem of theodicy:
Dear god, I’m trying hard to reach you
Dear god, I see your face in all I do
Sometimes it’s so hard to believe in
Good god I know you have your reasons
Dear god I see you move the mountains
Dear god I see you moving trees
Sometimes it’s nothing to believe in
Sometimes it’s everything I see
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Well I’ve been thinking about,
And I’ve been breaking it down without an answer
I know I’m thinking aloud but if your loves
Still around why do we suffer?
Why do we suffer? 8
The question of theodicy is voiced from a personal perspective, out of particular human experience. Likewise, the song ‘“Idea #21’” by Over the
Rhine, is, in many ways, a recapitulation of lament
language of scripture (Psalm 13, 22, 35; Habbakuk
1), again summarized out of particular human experience:
Till we lay these weapons at your feet,
Lord
How long, how long
Till we call all hatred obsolete, Lord
How long, how long …
Our eyes all shine in different colors we
cry, Lord
How long
Our dreams our tears are all the same by
and by, Lord
How long, how long9
Tillich champions cultural forms as valid and vital means of expressing these ultimate concerns. As
Tillich articulates, aesthetic forms have the unmatched capacity to connect to and express the
depths of human experience—persons’ deepest
hopes, fears, despair, faith and love (and the lack of
any or all of these). The expressive capability of artistic forms ought to be instructive for those ‘doing’
theology, in bringing to light the objects of ‘“ultimate concern,’” to which theology must find an answer if it is to speak a Christian message. He argues
that theologians, as members of society, participate
in cultural systems (politics, poetry, philosophy),
and so must look to them in theological reflection:
‘“[The theologian] uses culture and religion intentionally as his [sic] means of expression, . . . he formulates the existential questions implied in them, to
which his theology intends to be the answer.’”10 In
sum, theology is specific, grounded in particular
contexts, dealing with individual and collective human experiences.
Further, the theological task is not directed toward a vague, unknowable, unnamable deity. Insofar
as it emerges from a specific tradition and as soon as
it describes a specific understanding of the divine,
theology is specific. Tillich notes that God, then is
41
not God if God is not the creative ground of everything that has being. God then is both nearer to and
more transcendent that we have the capacity to
know. In this way God, and all our reflection about
God is thoroughly personal, emerges out of our lived
(individual and in community) experience, and is
specific—about a particular deity who relates to
creation in a particular way.
In anticipating the critique that cultural relevancy is equated to relativism, these theologies carry
an implicit and thorough ‘“no,’” instead insisting
that theology begins with cultural relevancy. The
solution (if there is one, it is surely not exhaustive),
seems to be fuller attention to the sum of human experience—from birth to death, from elation to despair, from seen to unseen. Tillich points to this in
his further explanation of the correlative method.
This does not relativize theology; on the contrary: to
locate or describe new answers to old questions does
not disrupt the unity between the earlier and later
parts of the system.11 He writes that the ‘“theologian
does not rest on the theological answer which he [or
she] announces. He can give it in a convincing way
only if he participates with his whole being in…the
human predicament. … In formulating the answer,
he must struggle with it.’”12
An example here comes, again, from Over the
Rhine, and their song, ‘“All My Favorite People,’”
in which they acknowledge the fullness of humanity—brokenness and sacred life:
All my favorite people are broken
Believe me
My heart should know
Some prayers are better left unspoken
I just wanna hold you
And let the rest go
All my friends are part saint and part sinner
We lean on each other
Try to rise above
We’re not afraid to admit we’re all still beginners
We’re all late bloomers
When it comes to love
All my favorite people are broken
Believe me
My heart should know
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Orphaned believers, skeptical dreamers
Step forward
You can stay right here
You don’t have to go
Is each wound you’ve received
Just a burdensome gift?
It gets so hard to lift
Yourself up off the ground13
If theology emerges from particular contexts,
and speaks to lived experience, then theological reflection must include narrative in both its form and
quality. Attention to human stories resounds with the
lived nature of theology; the telling, hearing, and
sharing of stories are theological acts. James
McClendon developed the narrative quality of theology, insisting that theology, because it is a journey,
begins with biography. Biography as theology
‘works’ because, through the telling of (and reflecting upon) stories of real lives, it allows us to catch a
glimpse of the truth of human suffering, struggle,
hope, and love. He argues that ‘“there is no more
important inquiry than the one which sets out to answer those whence and why and whither questions. .
. . In a word, some problems are hard problems, and
turning away from them if they aren’t my problems
is neither easy nor a solution.’”14 At least one way
that music, specifically, fills this niche is in its
power to remind us of the theological act of telling
and listening to human stories. The role of narrative
to teach us about ourselves, others, our world, and
our God ought to be reclaimed, and songwriting represents a wide-reaching, accessible means to remind
us of that.
An example from U2’s catalog would be an appropriate interlude here. In the song ‘“Peace on
Earth’” from the album, All That You Can’t Leave
Behind, is in many ways a prayer—a prayer for
peace, styled after telling stories of those who seek
peace:
Jesus can you take the time
To throw a drowning man a line
Peace on Earth
Tell the ones who hear no sound
Whose sons are living in the ground
Peace on Earth
No whos or whys
No one cries like a mother cries
For peace on Earth
She never got to say goodbye
To see the color in his eyes
Now he’s in the dirt
42
Peace on Earth
They’re reading names out over the radio
All the folks the rest of us won’t get to know
Sean and Julia, Gareth, Ann and Breda
Their lives are bigger than any big idea15
Tillich describes both culture and art (which are,
of course, overlapping categories) as having several
functions, including various prophetic functions. Art
is prophetic in its ability to protest the way things
are. In its ability to describe authentically how things
are, according to Tillich, art ‘“opens the eyes to a
truth which is lost in the daily-life encounter with
reality. We see as something unfamiliar what we
believed we knew by meeting it day to day.’”16
Art is also prophetic in its ability to express the
element of hope: ‘“What prophetic hope expects is
affirmed as given in forms of perfection which the
artist can produce in the world of images.’”17 Tillich
argues that expressions of art that are inauthentic to
human experience are dangerous, because they conceal reality, protest, and hope. Insofar as art is able
to be authentic to both reality and potentiality, it operates prophetically.
Two examples from contemporary music will be
helpful here as well. First, Paul Simon’s ‘“Wartime
Prayers’” from his 2006 album, Surprise, addresses
the difficulty of finding hope in situations of warfare:
Prayers offered in times of peace
Are silent conversations
Appeals for love, or love’s release
In private invocations
But all that is changed now
Gone like a memory from the day before the
fires
People hungry for the voice of God
Hear lunatics and liars …
Times are hard, it’s a hard time
But everybody knows
All about hard times, the thing is
What are you gonna do?
Well, you cry and try to muscle through
And try to rearrange your stuff
But when the wounds are deep enough
And it’s all that we can bear
We wrap ourselves in prayer18
A second example comes from a solo recording
from Amy Ray (one half of the Indigo Girls): the
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
song ‘“Let it Ring,’” from her 2005 album, Prom.
The song is an expression of both protest at how
things are, and hope and vision of how things ought
to—or could—be.
When you march stand up straight.
When you fill the world with hate
Step in time with your kind and
Let it ring
When you speak against me
Would you bring your family
Say it loud pass it down and
Let it ring
Let it ring to Jesus ‘cause he sure’d be proud of
you
You made fear an institution and it got the best
of you
Let it ring in the name of the one that set you
free
Let it ring
As I wander through this valley
In the shadow of my doubting
I will not be discounted
So let it ring
You can cite the need for wars
Call us infidels or whores
Either way we’ll be your neighbor
So let it ring
Let it ring
in the name of the man that set you free
Let it ring
And the strife will make me stronger
As my maker leads me onward
I’ll be marching in that number
So let it ring
I’m gonna let it ring to Jesus
Cause I know he loves me too
And I get down on my knees and I pray the same
as you
Let it ring, let it ring
‘Cause one day we’ll all be free
Let it ring19
Therefore, a prophet is someone doing the work
of theology (that is reflecting on the truth of human
experience as it relates to the truth of God in hope
for renewal and restoration) in the midst of and con-
43
fronting the world as it is, but does not remain satisfied that the world stay as it is. Hence, prophetic
witness is any message—given or received—that
speaks honestly out of human experience, relating
authentic human struggle, pain, hope, and love, and
that denounces injustice and despair.
In a sense, the barrier that has been drawn—
mostly as a result of the Enlightenment—between
what is sacred and what is secular, is false. The
church is to minister to the whole person, and the
same person who goes to a concert, or a movie, or
paints on a canvas on Saturday does not morph into
a different person when she enters a church service
on Sunday. We must break down these competing
spheres in order to understand and confront real
people struggling in a world constantly pushing towards despair and violence.
What is perhaps unnerving about this challenge—and it is a challenge—is that it insists on
permeable walls of the Church, and on a Church that
does not identify itself by resisting the outside
world. The challenge also implies that the Church
itself might be changed by the world. This is not
necessarily a challenge to the Church’s core identity,
but in how it understands its role and function within
a particular time and place. Jon Michael Spencer
explains that we ought to pay attention to ‘“the creators and consumers of popular music in order to discern how this vast segment of culture perceives the
great mysteries that myths address and how these
ultimate concerns figure into the worldview that in
turn formulates the character of the secular
world.’”20
The pastoral implications here are many. Certainly, there are potential ways that popular culture
can be implemented within the life of worship, education and discipleship of the institutional church.
Allowing persons of faith to bring their culture into
church, so to speak, encourages them to bring their
faith into their culture. Further, part of the task of the
minister is to shepherd persons in the life of faith,
guiding them with questions, wisdom, and grace.
The implications of art and popular culture being
theologically significant mean that part of the pastoral task is guiding people in understanding and
interpreting these forms of culture. Popular culture
inevitably creates and shapes meaning in people’s
lives. We must assume this meaning has theological
and prophetic implications. Churches, theologians,
pastors, must rifle through the masses of culture to
help others ‘read’ these elements.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
Likewise, I hold that paying attention to forms
of popular culture can reawaken the Church to the
prophetic spirit already and always at work in the
world. When these forms of culture serve to challenge the status quo and systems of injustice and
oppression, they remind us of our own call to speak
out for the voiceless and care for the outcast and
downtrodden. Any institution risks falling into complacency; the institutional church is no exception.
Music, sometimes especially popular music, can call
us back to our identity in the already-but-not-yet
work towards the Kingdom of God. As artists work
in the same kind of imaginative spirit as the prophets, so too they remind us of our own call to imagination—imagining the way things could and ought
be in the Kingdom of God. These things ought to
provoke us toward a theology and an ecclesiology
that puts creativity and imagination at a place of priority.
Another pastoral implication is in the necessity
of recognizing the power of telling a story as a theological act. When we open ourselves to hearing others’ stories, we learn more about ourselves and each
other, developing greater compassion and capacity
for solidarity with others’ experiences. Andrew
Greeley echoes this in his discussion of the sacrament of grace: the real experience of grace in human
experience, which assumes ‘“that experiences, images, and stories of God are to be found in popular
culture and indeed that these experiences, images,
and stories provide a wealth of material of immediate practical use in Catechetics and homiletics.’”21
Religious language and conversation is essentially
about telling a story, and resonating with others’ stories, therefore ‘“religion becomes a communal event
when a person is able to link his [or her] own grace
experience with the overarching experience of this
religious tradition.’”22 Thus, as we are able to, and
do perceive grace in so-called secular forms, particularly the imagination and popular culture, and the
church ought to take these experiences and ‘“rearticulate, refine, re-collect, and re-present [them] and
thus to deepen and enrich and challenge them by
integrating them into the [Christian] Community.’”23
In conclusion, it is important to understand the
theories and perspective on popular culture in order
to make a case for what elements of culture are helpful, genuine, and open representations of human life,
struggle, and hope, particularly in relation to understanding and awareness of the divine. The questions
up to this point have largely originated in and remained outside of ‘“the Church,’” meaning, outside
44
of any official religious institution or ‘“orthodoxy,’”
but rather, recognizing that all persons are created by
God, and religious institutions are, for all intents and
purposes, created by persons, that genuine theological reflection can and does occur outside of any institutionally-sanctioned outlet, or any sort of sanitized subculture.
I’ll be marching in that number
So let it ring
I’m gonna let it ring to Jesus
Cause I know he loves me too
And I get down on my knees and I pray the same
as you
Let it ring, let it ring
‘Cause one day we’ll all be free
Let it ring.24
Therefore, a prophet is someone doing the work
of theology (that is reflecting on the truth of human
experience as it relates to the truth of God in hope
for renewal and restoration) in the midst of and confronting the world as it is, but does not remain satisfied that the world stay as it is. Hence, prophetic
witness is any message—given or received—that
speaks honestly out of human experience, relating
authentic human struggle, pain, hope, and love, and
that denounces injustice and despair.
In a sense, the barrier that has been drawn—
mostly as a result of the Enlightenment—between
what is sacred and what is secular, is false. The
church is to minister to the whole person, and the
same person who goes to a concert, or a movie, or
paints on a canvas on Saturday does not morph into
a different person when she enters a church service
on Sunday. We must break down these competing
spheres in order to understand and confront real
people struggling in a world constantly pushing towards despair and violence.
What is perhaps unnerving about this challenge—and it is a challenge—is that it insists on
permeable walls of the Church, and on a Church that
does not identify itself by resisting the outside
world. The challenge also implies that the Church
itself might be changed by the world. This is not
necessarily a challenge to the Church’s core identity,
but in how it understands its role and function within
a particular time and place. Jon Michael Spencer
explains that we ought to pay attention to ‘“the creators and consumers of popular music in order to discern how this vast segment of culture perceives the
great mysteries that myths address and how these
ultimate concerns figure into the worldview that in
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
turn formulates the character of the secular
world.’”25
The pastoral implications here are many. Certainly, there are potential ways that popular culture
can be implemented within the life of worship, education and discipleship of the institutional church.
Allowing persons of faith to bring their culture into
church, so to speak, encourages them to bring their
faith into their culture. Further, part of the task of the
minister is to shepherd persons in the life of faith,
guiding them with questions, wisdom, and grace.
The implications of art and popular culture being
theologically significant mean that part of the pastoral task is guiding people in understanding and
interpreting these forms of culture. Popular culture
inevitably creates and shapes meaning in people’s
lives. We must assume this meaning has theological
and prophetic implications. Churches, theologians,
pastors, must rifle through the masses of culture to
help others ‘read’ these elements.
Likewise, I hold that paying attention to
forms of popular culture can reawaken the Church to
the prophetic spirit already and always at work in the
world. When these forms of culture serve to challenge the status quo and systems of injustice and
oppression, they remind us of our own call to speak
out for the voiceless and care for the outcast and
downtrodden. Any institution risks falling into complacency; the institutional church is no exception.
Music, sometimes especially popular music, can call
us back to our identity in the already-but-not-yet
work towards the Kingdom of God. As artists work
in the same kind of imaginative spirit as the prophets, so too they remind us of our own call to imagination—imagining the way things could and ought
be in the Kingdom of God. These things ought to
provoke us toward a theology and an ecclesiology
that puts creativity and imagination at a place of priority.
Another pastoral implication is in the necessity
of recognizing the power of telling a story as a theological act. When we open ourselves to hearing others’ stories, we learn more about ourselves and each
other, developing greater compassion and capacity
for solidarity with others’ experiences. Andrew
Greeley echoes this in his discussion of the sacrament of grace: the real experience of grace in human
experience, which assumes ‘“that experiences, images, and stories of God are to be found in popular
culture and indeed that these experiences, images,
and stories provide a wealth of material of immediate practical use in catechetics and homiletics.’”26
45
Religious language and conversation is essentially
about telling a story, and resonating with others’ stories, therefore ‘“religion becomes a communal event
when a person is able to link his [or her] own grace
experience with the overarching experience of this
religious tradition.’”27 Thus, as we are able to, and
do perceive grace in so-called secular forms, particularly the imagination and popular culture, and the
church ought to take these experiences and ‘“rearticulate, refine, re-collect, and re-present [them] and
thus to deepen and enrich and challenge them by
integrating them into the [Christian] Community.’”28
In conclusion, it is important to understand the
theories and perspective on popular culture in order
to make a case for what elements of culture are helpful, genuine, and open representations of human life,
struggle, and hope, particularly in relation to understanding and awareness of the divine. The questions
up to this point have largely originated in and remained outside of ‘“the Church,’” meaning, outside
of any official religious institution or ‘“orthodoxy,’”
but rather, recognizing that all persons are created by
God, and religious institutions are, for all intents and
purposes, created by persons, that genuine theological reflection can and does occur outside of any institutionally-sanctioned outlet, or any sort of sanitized subculture.
1
Paul Tillich, ‘“The Church and Contemporary Culture,’” World Christian Education (Second Quarter
1956): 43.
2
Paul Tillich, Writings in the Philosophy of Culture,
Kulturphilosophische Schriften, ed. Michael Palmer,
Berlin, New Yor, De Gruyter, 1990. Quoted in Gesa
Elsbeth Thiessen, Theological Aesthetics: A Reader,
London, SCM Press, 2004, 209.
3
Ibid.
4
Paul Tillich, Theology of Culture, ed. Robert C
Kimball (New York: Oxford University Press, 1959).
5
Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology, vol. 1 (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1951), 12.
6
Ibid., 1:viii.
7
Ibid., 1:62.
8
‘“Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F.)’”, James Edward
Olliges, Jr. http://www.elyrics.net/read/m/monsters-offolk-lyrics/dear-god-(sincerely-m.o.f.)-lyrics.html.
9
‘“Idea #21 (Not Too Late)’” Linford Detweiler and
Karin Bergquist, http://overtherhine.com/albums/ohio/
10
Ibid., 1:38.
11
Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology: Volume II: Existence & The Christ. University of Chicago Press, 1957. 3.
Bulletin of the North American Paul Tillich Society, vol. 39, no. 4, Fall 2013
12
Ibid., 2:15.
‘“All My Favorite People,’” Linford Detweiler &
Karin Bergquist, http://overtherhine.com/albums/thelong-surrender/
14
McClendon, Biography as Theology; How Life Stories Can Remake Today’s Theology, 89.
15
‘“Peace on Earth,’” Bono,
http://www.atu2.com/lyrics/lyrics.src?VID=9&SID=311
16
Tillich, ‘“from, ‘Art and Ultimate Reality’,’” 214.
17
Ibid.
18
‘“Surprise,’” Paul Simon,
http://www.paulsimon.com/us/music/surprise/wartimeprayers
19
‘“Let it Ring, ‘“Amy Ray,
http://www.daemonrecords.com/amy/lyrics.html
20
Jon Michael Spencer, Theological Music: Introduction to Theomusicology, Contributions to the study of
13
46
music and dance no. 23 (New York: Greenwood Press,
1991), 12.
21
Andrew M. Greeley, God in Popular Culture (Chicago, Ill: Thomas More Press, 1988), 18.
22
Ibid., 68.
23
Ibid., 75-6.
24
‘“Let it Ring, ‘“Amy Ray,
http://www.daemonrecords.com/amy/lyrics.html
25
Jon Michael Spencer, Theological Music: Introduction to Theomusicology, Contributions to the study of
music and dance no. 23 (New York: Greenwood Press,
1991), 12.
26
Andrew M. Greeley, God in Popular Culture (Chicago, Ill: Thomas More Press, 1988), 18.
27
Ibid., 68.
28
Ibid., 75-6.
The Officers of the North American
Paul Tillich Society
President
Echol Nix, Furman University
President Elect
Duane Olson, McKendree University
Vice President
Charles Fox
Secretary Treasurer
Frederick J. Parrella, Santa Clara University
Past President
Courtney Wilder, Midland University
Board of Directors
Term Expiring 2013
Nathaniel Holmes, Florida Memorial University
Bryan Wagoner, Harvard University
Wesley Wildman, Boston University
Term Expiring 2014
Marc Dumas, Université de Sherbrooke
Janet Giddings, Santa Clara University and San Jose State University
Marcia MacLennan, Kansas Wesleyan University
Term Expiring 2015
Tom Bandy, www.ThrivingChurch.com
Adam Pryor, Graduate Theological Union, Berkeley
Devan Stahl, Saint Louis University