Neville Ann Kelly, D.Min., Ph.D.

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Debated Origins of the Christian Easter Idea: A Both/And Approach?

April 18, 2014 By Neville Ann Kelly

In keeping with my recent series exploring how to see Christianity from the margins, Notre Dame’s near-celebrity theologian, Candida Moss, writes a few interesting “both/and” details about the debated origins of the Christian Easter idea.

Image Credit ©2012 ionutv91, fotosearch
Image Credit ©2012 ionutv91, fotosearch

Note how Moss includes pagan influences and the concept of uniqueness on the feast–and its underlying theology–in her discussion, though neither are made the sole contributors to Easter’s early development.

Did Christians really ‘steal’ Easter?

Opinion by Candida Moss, special to CNN

CNN Logo

(CNN) – It’s that time of year again: the time when chocolate comes in pastels, cherry blossoms start to bloom and well-marketed religion exposés are released to the world.

In other words, it’s Easter.

Among the rash of sensationalist stories we can expect through the season, the annual “Easter was stolen from the pagans” refrain has sprouted again just in time for Holy Week.

Don’t believe the hype.

Perhaps most misinformed theory that rolls around the Internet this time of year is that Easter was originally a celebration of the ancient Near Eastern fertility goddess Ishtar.

This idea is grounded in the shared concept of new life and similar-sounding words Easter/Ishtar. There’s no linguistic connection, however. Ishtar is Akkadian and Easter is likely to be Anglo-Saxon.

Just because words in different languages sound the same doesn’t mean they are related. In Swedish, the word “kiss” means urine.

But the biggest issue for Christians is the claim that Jesus’ resurrection – the faith’s central tenet – might have pagan roots.

Even apart from whether or not Jesus actually rose from the dead, many Christians claim that the very idea is unique.

There are other biblical examples of people being raised from the dead – think of Jesus raising Lazarus. But those people went on to die again. Only Jesus was raised from the dead to live forever.

But there’s a problem: Pre-Christian religions are replete with dying and rising gods.

  • Dionysius, most commonly thought of as the Greek god of wine, is one such example. He was lured to his death by the Titans, who then boiled and ate him. He was revived by his grandmother, and from his ashes humanity was formed, the Greeks believed.
  • Farther afield, Osiris – an Egyptian god-king who became ruler of the realm of the dead – was slaughtered before being brought back to life by Isis.
  • A similar story is found in the case of the Greek goddess Persephone, the daughter of the harvest goddess Demeter. Persephone was carried off to the underworld by the love-struck Hades. Because she ate pomegranate seeds in the underworld, she was permitted to leave only for six months a year.
  • Her annual resurrection is a metaphor for the changing of the seasons, and many scholars think that stories about dying and rising deities are essentially explanations for the coming of winter.
  • Then there’s Mithras, an ancient Iranian deity popular among Roman soldiers.
  • Among the many claims made about Mithras are that he was born on December 25, that adherents to his cult practiced baptism, and that he died and was resurrected.
  • The connections between Christ and Mithras are further amplified by the fact that the church of St. Clement, near the Colosseum in Rome, is built on top of an ancient Mithraeum.

The list goes on, and I’ll admit it’s a bit unsettling.

That’s why the accusations that Christians “stole” the Resurrection from the Pagans is so popular and rhetorically powerful.

If, as many Christians claim, Christianity’s against-the-odds success is in some way proof of its authenticity and truth, then what does it say that parts of its truth were stolen from religious movements that no longer exist?

Spiritual “Manifest Destiny” looks less persuasive when extinct religious traditions supplied the backbone for the modern-day Church.

But there are ways around some of these problems.

Lumping all of these stories of dying and rising gods into a single category obscures important differences between them. Some of those who rose as gods, for example, were mere human beings prior to their return. Jesus, in contrast, was divine before his death, according to Christian theology.

Also, some of the parallels between the traditions come from a later period (post-Christianity) or are completely unsubstantiated. The arguments about Mithras and Jesus, for example, have completely fallen apart in the past 50 years because there simply isn’t enough ancient evidence to support them.

We should also ask whether the fishermen who followed Jesus around Palestine would have known about (much less adopted) stories from ancient Egyptians and Babylonians.

Greek and Roman mythology circulated widely on coins, but would the followers of Jesus who first claimed that Jesus was resurrected have known these stories in great detail?

Perhaps, perhaps not.

On the other hand, many Christians claim that Jesus’ death and resurrection is subtly different from that of other ancient deities and, thus, that the resurrection of Jesus was a wholly new idea.

The problem is, these apologists are one archeological discovery away from disaster. In the meantime, they are trying to pry Christianity apart from other late antique religions in order to protect it.

Perhaps the real problem here is with the idea of uniqueness.

As the University of Chicago scholar Jonathan Z. Smith showed, there’s a huge ideological and religious investment in the idea that Jesus was unique.

But there doesn’t have to be. Just because one idea is influenced by another idea doesn’t mean that its meaning is determined by the chronologically prior idea.

The Founding Fathers may have been influenced by Greek classical tradition, but this doesn’t mean that we should interpret the Constitution in light of Aristotle. You can recognize both the importance and innovation of the Constitution and its roots in ancient European civics.

Rather than battening down the hatches and looking for other signs of uniqueness, Christians need to think about how meaning relates to tradition.

Christians didn’t steal Easter, but it probably wasn’t a wholly new idea, either.

Find the original CNN blog post here.
Candida Moss is the author of the Myth of Persecution and Ancient Christian Martyrdom and professor of New Testament and early Christianity at the University of Notre Dame. The views expressed in this post belong to Moss.

Filed Under: Articles Tagged With: Theology, Tradition

Seeing In Through a Fourfold Lens

April 4, 2014 By Neville Ann Kelly

Called to “look in” upon Christianity from the outside margin, we have recently considered the transformative possibilities such an “Overview Effect” holds. To see fully, we need to move outward toward the margins, away from the comfort of being safely “inside.”

Image ©2012 kmitu, fotosearch
Image ©2012 kmitu, fotosearch

 

In Part 3, we looked at the centuries-long development of Christian theology. Theologia began as the deeply spiritual encounter of “one who prays,” then shifted to a scholastic emphasis on reason. Some contemporary theologians have retrieved theology’s originating sense of transcendence, and we do well to uphold the critical balance between the often distant poles of interior spirituality and its theoretical inquiry, study and discourse. Both are necessary, the “Martha” and “Mary” (Luke 10:38-42) of action and contemplation. But how do these function in our lives, in the real world?

Questioning the function of theology is to ask, more simply, “what does it do?” Rather than a utilitarian attempt to justify my own admitted fascination with immaterial abstractions of theological discourse, this inquiry is crucial to developing our capacity to envisage their more complete whole. 

To ask what theology does is not to ask what it is for (a question often broached by a student or two in my undergraduate classrooms), but to ask the much more fundamental question of what theology actually is. While the theoretical breadth of this question can appear an abstract stumbling stone to authentic praxis, getting at theological “being” empowers our ability not only to explore the function of theology itself, but dynamically to enact the multiplicity of theology’s “doing” as well.

Theology simultaneously enacts the subjective experience, intersubjective relationship, objective evidence and interobjective specialization comprising its vast whole. Often obscured by our hegemonizing preference for one of these domains, theology manifests an equilibrious balance of its fourfold nature.

Theology’s “Four D’s”

Unashamedly betraying my undergraduate teaching practicality, we can classify these interrelated dimensions as “Four Easy D’s”:

  • Depth – Subjective Experience             
  • Dialogue – Intersubjective Relationship
  • Description – Objective Evidence
  • Dispatch – Interobjective Specialization

The Inside: Depth & Dialogue

While mystical and spiritual “depth” penetrates the subterranean interior of heart, soul, mind, and strength, “dialogue” relationally incarnates its commonality through the concrete immediacy of its multicultural proclamation, interpretation, fellowship and compassionate service. 

While the inestimable value of these too-long-neglected interior encounters comprise theology’s energetic capacity to inspire, challenge, and transform, depth and dialogue do not stand on their own. Only a part of theology’s fullness, they are influenced and developed by their more exterior contributors.

The Outside: Description & Dispatch

Objective “description” of the historical unfoldment of biblical texts, sources, doctrines, dogmas, iconography, architecture and more gives substantial flesh and bone to an ever-developing tradition extending from antiquity into the future. However, even when these objective elements accompany theology’s interior, they remain insufficient without the fourth element, extending theology into the complex world of its pragmatic systemization.

So “dispatched” into ecclesial hierarchy and organizational patterns, interpretive effects of doctrinal constructs, ministerial administration of communication, media, art, and network navigation, theology becomes fully active and alive. Orphaning theology in this realm of “dispatch,” easily reduces it to the all too familiar, inauthentic caricature of lifeless church policies, procedures, rubrics and rules.

All of This, At Once

Reducing the whole to any hegemonized quarter—no matter how valuable—betrays theology’s fourfold unity of subjective experience, intersubjective relationship, objective evidence and interobjective specialization.

Theology’s fourfold being, like the piercing two-edged sword of Hebrews’ living and active word of God (4:12), functions as all of this, of all that is. To see into ourselves from the margins, we must begin to see all of this. 

The ancient Hebrew story of the Tower of Babel (Gen 11: 1- 9) will help us grasp this more fully, but before turning there, we have first required a few insights from Christiainity’s theological tradition to empower our expanding vision.

Filed Under: Articles Tagged With: Integral, Theological Multilingualism, Theology

Looking In at Christian Theology

March 21, 2014 By Neville Ann Kelly

Pope Francis recently invited worldwide Catholics to step outside the calm center of Christianity to see itself from its periphery. He suggested that  reality becomes more clearly understood as a complex weave of multiplicity when seen from the margins, rather than from a perceived center of ideological unity.

Credit: Veer.com Javier Gil
Credit: Veer.com Javier Gil

 

No longer looking out from its own center, Christianity—whether Catholic or non-Catholic—can turn its gaze to look in on itself, promising the transformational impact much like space travellers’ documented “Overview Effect.”

In light of the (quite literally) spacious abstraction this visual metaphor evokes, I suggested in Part 2 that another sense could help us more concretely—and immediately—begin to “look in” on ourselves. The sense of hearing, used abundantly in Christianity’s mystical literature, is the starting place for this more comprehensive vision of our whole.

Learning an Integral Christian Multilingualism becomes our metaphorical spacecraft to the margins’ comprehensive view, an effort that requires a preliminary description of theology, Christianity’s fundamental experience and concept.

Theologia: A Shifting Understanding

The term theology, or theologia, is derived from the Greek roots theos (θεόσ, god) and logos (λόγοσ, word, language, discourse). Originally understood as personal and communal discourse about God (McGrath, 1998; Schüssler Fiorenza, 1991), theology became more theoretical and speculative “study of God” with the ninth-century rise of urban, clerical schools and the subsequent medieval universities (LeClerq, 1982).

The scholastic theology of the Middle Ages provided an ordered discipline of sacred learning, encompassing systematic study of Christian revelation, belief and doctrine. However, the post-Enlightenment rise of secularism eschewed perceived constraints of sectarian scholarship, ultimately diminishing the presence of theology within public academia.

By the late twentieth century, the divergent needs of increasing religious pluralism led public universities to develop inter-religious departments of Religious Studies, while the Christian theology of denominationally sponsored seminaries and universities became an increasingly disparate group of specialized academic subdivisions seemingly much removed from their classical (LeClerq, 1982; Schüssler Fiorenza, 1991) and more sapiential origins (Barnhart, 2008; Farley, 1983). [1]

Concurrently, some theorists marked paradigmatic collapse and deconstruction of meta-narrative as the necessary postmodern “condition” (Lyotard, 1984), radically reorienting the course of contemporary theological discourse (Vanhoozer, 2006). Challenged with the need for contemporary intelligibility, theological scholarship nonetheless continues to flourish with an extraordinary outpouring of seminal Christian thought. [2]

The Seminal and Often Surprising Description of Theology

Despite this vast corpus of well-reasoned theological discourse and scholarship, the casual inquirer’s exposure is frequently limited to its most rudimentary forms. Easily accessed Web blogs, televangelism or other forms of evangelistic diatribe and sectarian polemic lead some hearers to “assume a stereotypical understanding of theology as an essentially supernaturalistic, dogmatic, and parochial discourse, a caricature that ignores countless developments in the tradition of modern theology” (Nicholson, 2009, p. 610). The specialization of theology as a remotely erudite (and frequently abstruse) academic discipline has furthered this lacuna of popular comprehensibility.

Early Christian theologians however, understood and articulated their craft quite differently than either of these popularly experienced extremes. For example, the fourth century monastic Evagrius Ponticus (345 – 399 CE) articulated a seminal description of the Christian theologian as “one who prays” (trans. 1978, p. 65), an understanding continued—and practiced—throughout the historical unfolding of Christian monasticism (Barnhart, 2008; Frigge, 1992; LeClerq, 1988).

Theology as Transcendence

Contemporary theologian David Tracy (2010) similarly reflects this more sapiential interpretation in his description:

theology is an attentive, contemplative attempt to understand God and all things in their relationship to God” (p. 288).

Such contemplative attentiveness engenders, it is hoped, an authentic practice reflective of transcendent wisdom, capable of holding the particularities of a religious tradition within its greater whole, authentically upholding its mythos while critically—and charitably—appraising its historical interpretation (Farley, 1983).

This view of theology inspires and empowers what has traditionally been known as connaturality (Dych, 1999), a personal and collective, transforming participation in divine love, a self-transcending union with all that is divine. Grounded in a personal encounter with infinite mystery (Rahner, 1970), it is generative of ongoing conversion that is “not a set of propositions that a theologian utters, but a fundamental and momentous change in the human reality that a theologian is” (Lonergan, 1972, p. 270).

Theology is dynamic and alive, capable of authentic self-transcendence, wherein

becoming must be understood as becoming more, as the coming to be of more reality as reaching and achieving a greater fullness of being. But this more must not be understood simply added to what was there before. Rather it must on the one hand be the effect of what was there before, and on the other hand it must be an intrinsic increase in its own being. But this means that if becoming is really to be taken seriously it must be understood as real self-transcendence, as surpassing oneself, as emptiness actively achieving its own fullness. (Rahner, 2002, p. 184)

As this transforming dynamism occurs, theology simultaneously becomes both an interior—even contemplative—way of life, as in its monastic approach, and as a contemporarily relevant, exterior academic discipline initiated but never completely fulfilled by the scholasticism of the Middle Ages.

Such transformative theology, furthermore, initiates and discloses the often divergent depths and complexities of its own interpersonal communication, often finding the mutual silence of mystery as explanatory of meaning as its many interpretive voices.

Listening In

Rather than exclusive domains, theology ideally remains an energetic enactment of interior monastic subjectivity effectively united with the Scholastic objectivity of its academic exteriors. The integrative union, furthermore, of spiritual praxis and cognitive theorization, while historically so often at odds with one another, are reconciled by their mutual interdependence upon the distinct insight and wisdom generated by each of their singular proficiencies.

To see ourselves and the Christian tradition from the empowering margin, we must be capable of not only recognizing and enacting this crucial interior and exterior union, but must also be able to do so across the multiple traditions that define and interpret its own apparently unitive themes with vastly different verbiage. With such bracing linguistic challenges in view, contemporary interpretations of the classic “Tower of Babel” narrative from the Hebrew Scriptures (Gen 11: 1- 9) can next offer insight toward development of Integral Christian multilingualism.

References

Barnhart, B. (2007). The future of wisdom: toward a rebirth of sapiential Christianity. New York: Continuum.

Dych, W. (1992). Karl Rahner (Re-issue 2000 ed.). New York: Continuum.

Evagrius Ponticus. (1978). The Praktikos: Chapters on prayer (J. Bamburger, Trans.). Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian Publications.

Farley, E. (1983). Theologia: The fragmentation and unity of theological education. Philadelphia: Fortress Press.

Frigge, M. (1992). Schola Christi Benedictine insight for theological education (Doctoral thesis, Boston College Dept. of Theology, Boston, MA).Leclerq, J. (1982). The love of learning and the desire for God: A study of monastic culture. New York: Fordham University Press.

Lyotard, J.-F. (1984). The postmodern condition: A report on knowledge. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

McGrath, A. E. (1998). Historical theology: An introduction to the history of Christian thought. Oxford; Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers.

Nicholson, H. (2009). The reunification of theology and comparison in the new comparative theology. Journal of the American Academy of Religion, 77(3), 609-646.

Rahner, K. (1970). Rahner, K. (1970). Reflections on method in theology (C. Ernst, Trans.) Theological Investigations (Vol. 11). Oxford: The Way Publishing.

Rahner, K. (2002). Foundations of Christian faith: An introduction to the idea of Christianity (W. V. Dych, Trans.). New York: Crossroad.

Schüssler Fiorenza, F. (1991). Systematic theology: Roman Catholic perspectives (Vol. 1). Minneapolis: Fortress Press.

Tracy, D. (2010). Theology for Pilgrims By Nicholas Lash. Modern Theology, 26(2), 287-289.

Vanhoozer, K. J. (Ed.). (2006). The Cambridge companion to postmodern theology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Endnotes

[1]Schüssler Fiorenza (1991) identifies three classical approaches (the Augustinian, Thomist and Neo-Scholastic) that consistently remain “intricately linked with specific philosophical and theoretical background theories” (p. 35) and yield contemporary perspectives in theological method. LeClerq (1982) notes two theological divisions in his influential examination of monastic culture, wherein scholastic and monastic models yet “draw in common on Christian sources and both enlist the aid of reason” (p. 223), albeit utilizing distinct methodologies to do so. Farley’s three major theological periods (early Christian, Middle Ages, and post-Enlightenment) all possessed the two “fundamental meanings” (p. 44) of 1) the theology/knowledge of sapiential episteme to “practical know how” identified with monasticism and 2) its original extension and deepening through the theology/discipline of a unitive scientia in Scholasticism ultimately generating aggregated specialization (pp. 31- 44). According to Farley, contemporary theological education has witnessed the disappearance of both meanings, a retrieval his text has—at least in part—inspired. See also Congar, Y. (1968). A history of theology. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Additional Protestant perspectives on the history of Christian theology include Olson, R. E. (1999). The story of Christian theology: Twenty centuries of tradition & reform. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity; and Plancher, W. C. (1983). A history of Christian theology: An introduction. Philadelphia: Westminster.

[2] Historical surveys of modern and postmodern twentieth century theologians and their influences include Kerr, F. (2007). Twentieth-century Catholic theologians: From Neoscholasticism to nuptial mysticism. Malden, MA: Blackwell; Ford, D., & Muers, R. (Eds.). (2005). The modern theologians: An introduction to Christian theology since 1918 (3rd ed.). Malden, MA: Blackwell; and Livingston, J. C., Coakley, S., Evans, J. H., & Schüssler Fiorenza, F. (2006). Modern Christian thought. Vol. 2, The twentieth century. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. For a compendium of postmodern theological approaches collected into seven typologies, see (Vanhoozer, 2006). Particular theological styles, approaches and methods provide varied conceptions of “models” of theology, such as Avery Dulles’ (1974/ 2002). Models of the church (Expanded ed.). New York: Image Books, Doubleday; Francis Schüssler Fiorenza’s (1991) “Five Contemporary Approaches to Theology”; and David Tracy’s (1975/1996) “Models in Contemporary Theology” discussed in a subsequent article.

Disclosure of Material Connection: Some links are affiliate links. This means if you purchase a book by clicking on the link , you contribute to the maintenance of this site. Thank you!

Filed Under: Articles Tagged With: Theological Multilingualism, Theology

Why We Must See Ourselves from the Periphery

March 7, 2014 By Neville Ann Kelly

In Part 1 of this series, we pondered the need to see ourselves and our traditions “not from the center but rather from the periphery,” suggesting  this shift in perspectives—looking in rather than securely looking out—begins a remarkable expansion of understanding of your faith, spirituality, and world. Learning how to view from the “outside in” is key to every aspect of our growth. Let me explain.

Credit: NASA/NOAA/GSFC/ Suomi NPP/VIIRS/Norman Kuring
“Blue Marble 2012”
Credit: NASA/NOAA/GSFC /Suomi NPP/VIIRS/Norman Kuring

When we turn from immersion in our ordinary experience toward an outer-space view of our whole lives, we are likely to experience what astronaut-philosopher Frank White (1987) termed the “Overview Effect” in interviews with fellow space-traveling astronauts. Those who had seen Earth from space disclosed a consistent pattern of expanding personal insight, overflowing into the complex mid-twentieth century culture that never seemed to get enough of that stunning 1972 “Blue Marble” print.

Through this photograph—no matter how widely traveled or read—humanity was actually seeing itself for the very first time. Suddenly, the vast Earthen territory we had perceived became a small marble suspended in the vacuum of an uninhabitable space. Looking in after millennia of looking out from the small patch of land we called home changed everything.

This is why Christianity needs to see itself from its periphery: we understand who we really are when we relinquish the limited view of the illusory center and head to “outer space.”

Looking in on ourselves, our relationships, and our institutions—rather than simply being embedded in them—is essential for our growth. To know who we are, we need to move beyond the perceptual illusions that so forcefully, yet often imperceptibly, limit our understanding of what is really there. This is risky, and accessing this new view requires a turbulent ride into an unknown, threatening, and ever-so-thin margin. Only by adventuring to this transforming edge can we experience the “Overview Effect.”

Shifting Our Senses

Since a religious tradition is not a planet we can see in space photos, we need help to begin considering how to “see” the whole more abstractly. We will need comparisons, metaphors, and imagination to experience the transformational “Overview Effect.”

We will find, in this task, wisdom of saints, sages, and mystics a guiding example of how a contemplative vision transforms its seer. As Bernard Lonergan (1972) noted,

any notable change of horizon is done, not on the basis of that horizon, but by envisaging a quite different and, at first sight, incomprehensible alternative” (p. 224).

Since of many of us do not consider ourselves to be privileged with mystical vision, we may need to get at this much more concretely. To do so, we can appeal to another of the human senses as our starting point: hearing. The kind of transforming, “overview” vision we need first requires a type of extended listening, an earnest attempt to learn the language of that “incomprehensible” other. Let’s start there.

Listening to the Incomprehensible

Seeking to understand our present context and calling requires an ability to hear the multiple languages the Christian tradition speaks, understands and interprets. This is a move away from the secure clarity of the center toward the disruptive cacophony of uncertainty.

Shifting one’s vision first requires a new kind of listening, translating and comprehending a measure of the multiple languages our tradition has birthed. Such theological multilingualism is a gift transcending Christianity, of course, as I have proposed elsewhere. Nonetheless, the Christian tradition, replete with centuries of development, expands its self-understanding—and its theological wisdom—by listening to its own voices.

In this way, our vision moves away from looking out from a univocal center as we turn to look into ourselves from the periphery.By hearing, we discover what we could never experience in an isolated illusion of common-sense experience. Only by learning the “unknown tongues” so variably voicing our traditions’ wisdom can we begin to see who we actually are. 

Learning an Integral Christian Multilingualism

To facilitate learning this challenging theological multilingualism, I will offer a series of longer articles in five thematic parts:

  • First, we lay a foundation, grasping basics of how Christianity understands “theology” itself. This preliminary understanding is crucial to our process.
  • Second, we expand the horizon of how the differentiating “Tower of Babel” of our many, often incomprehensible spiritual and theological languages offers a significant key to seeing our whole.
  • Third, we sketch an orienting geography of how Christianity’s many families have developed over time. This gives us a preliminary sketch of how we might see ourselves from “space.”
  • Fourth, we survey aspects of the process of how varied theological languages both divide and unify their respective speakers, seeking to understand both their venerable and unintelligible features.
  • Fifth and finally, we summarily explore how five theological perspectives found across the Christian denominations help us experience a personally transformative “Overview Effect.”

Adequate grasp of the complex, two-thousand year accumulation of Christianity’s comprehensive understanding of itself requires us to stand at multiple margins. Standing at the periphery, we can attentively gaze, listen, and speak in a surprisingly multilingual voice.

Learning an Integral Christian Multilingualism is our metaphorical spacecraft to the farthest reaches of our perimeter, a place we can begin to see the whole/parts of who we really are. 

References

Lonergan, B. J. F. (1972). Method in theology. Minneapolis: Seabury.

Spardaro, A. (2014). Wake up the world: Conversation with Pope Francis about the religious life. La Civilta Cattolica(I), 3-17.

White, F. (1998). The overview effect: Space exploration and human evolution (2nd ed.). Reston, VA: American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics.

Disclosure of Material Connection: Some links are affiliate links. This means if you purchase a book by clicking on the link , you contribute to the maintenance of this site. Thank you!

Filed Under: Articles Tagged With: Integral, Theological Multilingualism, Theology

Why Christianity Must See Itself from Its Periphery

February 21, 2014 By Neville Ann Kelly

Pope Francis’ recent urge to “move around, to see reality from various viewpoints” (2014, p. 4) offers Christianity a transformative invitation to see itself anew, apart from the “centralism and ideological approaches” so often coloring its history.

Image credit: Veer.com
Image credit: Veer.com

I was asked to offer an interpretation of what this might mean for us, our communities, and our institutions.

 In response, I immediately recalled the quote attributed to Albert Einstein (1879-1955):

 

No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it.”

 

This wisely suggests the rather common-sense idea that growth requires an upleveling—a dramatic shift—in the way we approach any situation.

Looking In, Looking Out

Before such innovative action can actually take shape, the matter must be seen from an entirely new angle.

This is much like the gradual horizon, unfolding before 15th century sailing vessels, helped disclose a spherical earth. More contemporarily, it is the transformational sight of the earth from space that has helped us radically recognize our planetary responsibility.

As Pope Francis recently noted, these “great changes in history were realized when reality was seen not from the center but rather from the periphery” (2014, p. 3). Expanding our knowledge of what Bernard Lonergan called the “incomplete and approximate portrayals of an enormously complex reality” (1972, p. 219) always requires a new viewpoint, a new perspective.

A Turbulent Margin

This necessarily makes Francis’ “move away from the central position of calmness and peacefulness” (2014, p. 3) our perspective-changing beginning.

From that place of the turbulent margin, we will proceed. Drawing from another of our senses next time, we will begin to look in on ourselves.

References

Lonergan, B. J. F. (1972). Method in theology. Minneapolis: Seabury.

Spardaro, A. (2014). Wake up the world: Conversation with Pope Francis about the religious life. La Civilta Cattolica (I), 3-17.

Disclosure of Material Connection: The link to Lonergan’s book is an affiliate link. This means if you purchase this book by clicking on the link , you contribute to the maintenance of this site. Thank you!

Filed Under: Posts Tagged With: Catholic, Integral, Theology

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