"Return From a Distant Country", by Alister McGrath | Ana's Notes
I had to pause my reading of the first pages of Return from a Distant Country, by Alister McGrath (2022), more than once. Although I was very interested in the topics promised to be discussed throughout the book, the recount of Dr. McGrath’s scholarly trajectory both impressed and intimidated me (it also inspired some jealousy, I must admit). As a budding writer from the third world, with little access to the high academic settings Dr. McGrath writes from, one thought haunted me: how could I ever match these accomplishments? Are all these degrees what is needed to be a proper science-religion thinker? Alas, I kept reading. I am glad I did.
Certainly, Dr. McGrath has set the bar high for Christian thinkers. But I am beginning to understand that this is not an occasion to be discouraged but to be excited and inspired. It is true that our Latin American culture, particularly within the evangelical church, does not celebrate academic life as much as some of us would like. But that does not mean that aspiring Christian intellectuals from these regions cannot pursue “both a detailed immersion in a scientific research culture, and a thorough familiarity with the history and development of Christian theology” (p. 17) which, according to McGrath, are required for proper engagement in the interdisciplinary field of science and religion. We might just get that knowledge outside of an old castle. The paths that lead us to participate in the science-religion conversation might —I dare say, must— look different depending on our generational context, location, and culture.[1] But, no matter who we are and where we are from, the thinkers who are drawn to the kind of work McGrath does share the desire to see life as a whole, delighting in how the truths of both theology and natural science weave a picture bursting of understanding and meaning. The fact we come from such different places can only enrich the unified vision of the faith McGrath believes theology should provide:
“Theology seemed to be about achieving a synthesis of the Christian faith, which involved weaving together biblical texts to create a coherent way of seeing the world” (p. 29).
McGrath has views that might be controversial. He admits disliking “those who use theology primarily to create and sustain divisions within Christianity, when there is so much that may be affirmed in common” (p. 27). I sympathize with the sentiment —it is one of the reasons I am no longer as active on Twitter as I was— but I can also see how some might construe it as weaseling out of biblical admonition and correction for the sake of peace. Nevertheless, I do believe that we have much public reproofing and not enough public encouragement. Social media and other Internet avenues for public discourse are filled with believers bashing each other's views, while we lack believers that intelligently display the beauty of the Christian worldview in every aspect of life. That is certainly changing, but not fast enough.[2]
McGrath also writes that “theology is biblical; yet is more than biblical”. As a conservative and reformed Christian with a high view of Scripture, this statement stopped me in my tracks. As I continued to read, though, I realized McGrath was simply stating the fact that we cannot make sense of the Bible by tearing it apart and trying to make sense of each part independently from the rest.
“Theology is biblical; yet it is more than biblical, in that it seeks to weave biblical themes together and discern the richer picture which results —a picture which cannot be fully disclosed by a single biblical passage. If biblical themes are the threads, the theology is the tapestry that results from weaving them together. If individual biblical passages are brush strokes, then theology is the picture which they disclose” (p. 32).
There is another sense in which we could say that theology is more than biblical. The weaving of the full picture McGrath talks about needs not only to include threads or brushstrokes of the biblical text, but also the insights gained by other disciplines, like history, anthropology, psychology, cosmology, and more.[3] Theology, then, is more than understanding the Bible. It is about understanding the cosmos in the light of the revelation of God in Jesus, given to us through Scripture.
This task is not easy, but why should we expect it to be? “Theology is about wrestling with the living God, who overwhelms our capacity to understand and to depict an idea many theologians see echoed in the biblical account of Jacob retiring wounded from wrestling with an angel at Penuel (Genesis 32:22-32)” (pp. 33-34). The problem is that many of us are not comfortable with wrestling, with the process of making sense of the world. In my culture, at least, we tend to expect somebody else to do the hard work for us and then tell us what to believe and how to live. It is fair to say that we are not all called to wrestle to the same degree —we are not all Jacob, after all. We all have different giftings and callings. But we all inhabit the world with a partial understanding of it. We must expect some wrestling.
Those who “wrestle professionally” must remember that, as McGrath writes, “theology is critical and conservative, in the best senses of both terms, putting everything to the test and holding on to what is good (1 Thessalonians 5:21)” (p. 46) and that “tradition clearly needs to be interpreted rather than simply restated, on account of the disparity between its original context and the present equivalent” (p. 43). This last comment is particularly relevant for those of us who live in regions that heavily import theological thought from developed countries. Our cultures and history are quite different and, although an interpretation might be powerful and relevant to a present context on the other side of the world, that does not mean that it is powerful and relevant to us.
But these differences must not drive us to work separately. The opposite should be the case. McGrath writes: “As I see it, I have to work things out from within the flow of history, and I love with others who have made this journey before me, who are now making the journey around me. We have to allow—perhaps even expect—that they might have seen something that we have failed to see through attentiveness or refuse to see through prejudice” (p. 49, emphasis mine). Not “perhaps”; definitely. Every thinker has a different set of gifts, sensibilities, life experiences, and a particular location within time and space. None of us can see the whole, only God. We then must work together to sharpen each other’s views.
The author believes theology engages three main audiences: the academy, the church, and the culture at large. McGrath recognizes he mainly speaks from and for the academy, although he also seeks to serve the Church and he understands the importance of impacting the culture at large. This prompted me to reflect on what audience I have been called to serve. When I was finishing my undergraduate degree in Clinical Biochemistry, I intended to influence the culture at large by being a science journalist with solid Christian convictions. I worked for a few years trying to build that career, but God had other plans. Now, through writing and speaking, I engage mainly the Spanish-speaking evangelical church, although some opportunities have been presented to start engaging the English-speaking evangelical church too. I know that, like in McGrath’s case, this does not mean that I am only going to ever engage the main audience I believe God has called me to engage. If there are opportunities to influence the academy and the culture at large, I would like to believe I would take them with joy (and, knowing myself, with fear and trembling too). But having a clear understanding of the main audience I am particularly gifted and prompted to engage can inform my study and the ways I choose to share what I learn.
As a somewhat agreeable person interested in public theology, I was refreshed to read McGrath’s perspective on apologetics: “For me, apologetics is best seen, not as a vigorous criticism of alternatives to Christian faith, but rather as a positive invitation to step inside the Christian 'Big Picture', and appreciate the quality of its theological rendering of reality and its capacity to make sense of things. Apologetics is an invitation to see things in a new way, which Christianity insists is both true and trustworthy” (p. 76).
This, of course, does not mean that McGrath believes apologetics is never critical. He shares that public engagement of theology includes at least three areas of reflection:
Showing that Christianity can make sense of reality.
Engaging in critical questions and concerns about faith.
Offering for criticism use or dominant philosophies (pp. 72-73).
He explains: “Christianity, in my view, does not simply proclaim and enable personal and communal transformation; it is about the articulation of a moral, intellectual and spiritual vision with the capacity to capture the imagination and transform the mind of the wider culture. I have never seen theology as a retreat into a private realm of ideas, but rather as establishing the foundation for public engagement, allowing the relevance and vitality of faith to be explored and explained, often in critical dialogue with its cultural alternatives” (p. 71).
To McGrath’s three areas of reflection, I would add a fourth, particularly relevant to a nominally Christian culture like my own. Public theology should also seek to distinguish true Christianity from beliefs or practices that are mistakenly seen as an integral part of Christianity. This area of reflection would not be so much about defending the faith but about excising things that have been wrongly added to it.
On page 34, McGrath shares a quote from theologian Thomas Weinandy: “Because God, who can never be fully comprehended, lies at the heart of all theological enquiry, theology by its nature is not a problem solving enterprise, but rather a mystery discerning enterprise”. This short book encouraged me to keep delighting in the mystery of knowing God and the world He created. May my life serve others to join in that delight
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[1] I would encourage those who have walked a more straightforward path to provide flexible but effective guidance to those who do not have access to the same path they took. First listen to their resources and obstacles, and then offer insight on how to move forward. Following footsteps is sometimes not an option.
[2] Also, we must consider the documented fact that social media favors content that triggers negative emotion. It is easier for conflict content to thrive, which encourages people to create even more conflict content.
[3] This might “trigger” some of my fellow Sola Scriptura brethren, but they do not need to be alarmed. I am not saying insights of other disciplines are ultimately authoritative for our faith and practice. They are simply part of the picture, of the cosmos created for us to inhabit. We would be irresponsible to ignore them.