Systematic theology has long been treated as the crown of theological inquiry among Evangelicals— but what if its universalist ambitions are precisely what untether it from the communities theology is meant to serve?
A recurring moment in my hermeneutics course arrives when students encounter Grant Osborne’s The Hermeneutical Spiral — and with it, his claim that systematic theology is the proper end toward which hermeneutics and biblical theology are both pointing.1 It is a claim worth lingering over, and worth challenging.
The challenge is not a dismissal of systematic theology as a genre. It is a more precise concern: systematic theology is, by its own nature, a theology from nowhere specifically, written for nowhere specifically. It addresses no particular congregation, no defined confession, no bounded community of faith. It is, in this sense, a theology untethered.
This is precisely why Karl Barth chose to title his monumental work Church Dogmatics — not systematic theology, but dogmatics, and not merely dogmatics, but the church’s dogmatics. The word belonged to a community. It was the word that community had been given and must hear again and again as it wrestles with the witnesses of Scripture.
Dogmatics, in this older sense, belongs to a church. Confessional theology belongs to a tradition. Both are moored to actual communities with actual histories, actual statements of faith, and actual creeds that have been argued over, refined, and received across generations. Systematic theology, by contrast, typically functions as if it were above all that — as if organizing theological topics with sufficient rigor could produce something universal and tradition-neutral.
The problem of topic-driven reading
One practical consequence of systematic theology’s method is that it forces all texts to be heard through its predetermined categories (which is also an issue of any approach at some level). The topical structure is set in advance; Scripture is then mined to populate each topic. What falls outside those categories tends to remain unengaged — not because it lacks significance, but because it simply did not fit the system’s organizational logic.
This is no small matter. The texts that a given systematic framework ignores are not ignored by the communities that have lived by them. The silence of a systematic theology on a subject is not neutral. It shapes what students come to regard as theologically significant — and what they learn to overlook.
The curious case of Evangelical seminaries
What makes this worth pressing is the contemporary Evangelical habit of adopting a generic systematic theology as the textbook for teaching theology itself — as if that particular volume were simply the theology that students must internalize to do the church’s work in the world.
Consider Millard Erickson’s Christian Theology, a fine and widely used textbook. The title is confident: Christian theology — not Baptist theology, not one theologian’s theology, but Christian theology. And yet it is, inevitably, a theology shaped by the Baptistic commitments of Millard Erickson. It could not be otherwise. The choices embedded in every chapter — what to include, how to frame disputes, which conclusions to draw — all reflect the particular tradition in which Erickson stands. The universal claim in the title does not match the particular realities of the text.
Wayne Grudem’s Systematic Theology,3 used widely across Evangelical institutions, including many in Assemblies of God circles,4 has a genuine advantage: each chapter at least gestures toward other theological traditions, giving students some sense that the church has spoken on these questions in more than one voice. That is a real contribution. And yet, in the end, Grudem’s systematic theology is Grudem’s theology. It is a theology of Wayne Grudem that has been received by portions of the church as if it were a theology of the church, as if it carried the weight of the tradition rather than of one thoughtful and prolific theologian. These two things should not be conflated.
The question is not whether Grudem or Erickson offer good theology. The question is whether their theology is the same kind of thing as what a community of faith, gathered around shared confessions over centuries, has produced and received as its own.
Systematics, confession, and community
None of this is an argument that churches should limit their theology to their own confessions, or that theologizing must stay within the bounds of whatever creeds a tradition has officially received. Theology always reaches beyond what has already been settled. That is part of its vitality.
The more modest point is this: to treat systematic theology as the way to do theology — as the queen’s throne rather than one province in a larger kingdom — is to mistake the part for the whole. Systematic theology is one legitimate mode of theological inquiry. It is not the destination toward which all other modes are pointing.
What it is not, and cannot be, is a theology that speaks on behalf of any particular community of faith. It is written by individuals, organized around the questions those individuals found most pressing, and is always at some remove from the actual life of any actual church. That remove is not a flaw to be corrected — it is a feature of the genre. But it means systematic theology should be received with appropriate modesty about what it is and what it is not claiming to do.
The queen of which sciences?
Osborne’s description of systematic theology as the “queen of the sciences” is worth examining directly, because it reaches for a historic claim that does not quite fit its new application.2
The original ascription of theologia as queen of the sciences belonged to the emergence of the medieval university, when theology was considered foundational to all other intellectual pursuits — to the pursuit of goodness, of truth, of knowledge, of human purpose. In that context, theology was not systematic theology in the modern sense. It was the great tradition of reflection arising from the church’s encounter with Scripture, refined through centuries of liturgy, argument, and confession. It was theology that belonged, in some meaningful sense, to the community of faith.
To transfer that crown to the modern genre of systematic theology is to quietly change what is being crowned. The queen of the medieval university was not one professor’s organized treatment of selected topics. She was something older, larger, and more communal than that. When Osborne applies the title to systematics, he imports the prestige of that older tradition and attaches it to something that, in important ways, differs from it.
This should not be heard as my arguing for or against, for example, the seeming Aristotelian type claims of Thomas Aquinas regarding the place of theologia in the emerging universities of Europe, but only an admission that Osborne has shifted the language game without proper consideration of what it may have indicated historically.
Toward a more honest reckoning
None of this requires that systematic theology be abandoned or devalued. It remains a useful tool — it can clarify, compare, organize, and provoke. What it requires is honesty about what systematic theology is: the work of individual thinkers, organized around their own questions, addressed to an audience broader than any single church, and necessarily unmoored from the specific confessions that ground a community’s identity over time.
The alternative is not to replace it with something else but to set it back in its proper relation to the other modes — e.g., biblical theology, historical theology, dogmatics, confessional theology — none of which merely lead up to systematics like tributaries to a river. Each has its own integrity, its own community of accountability, its own way of listening to the witnesses of Scripture. Each is also not (nor can ever properly be) the work from nowhere for nowhere in particular, as if the community and communities to which they belong are not the ones to which they serve or to which they do well to offer themselves in service of.
When hermeneutics and biblical theology are understood as pointing toward systematic theology as their goal, something is lost: the sense that theology’s first loyalty is to the church, to specific communities, to people who have gathered around specific confessions and specific practices and who need not a universal theology of nowhere, but a living theology of here.
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Grant R. Osborne. The Hermeneutical Spiral: A Comprehensive Introduction to Biblical Interpretation. Revised and Expanded (IVP Academic, 2006), 374.
Osborne, The Hermeneutical Spiral, 274.
Grudem, Wayne A. Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine. Second edition (Zondervan Academic, 2020).
The Assemblies of God has had numerous iterations of types of “Systematic Theology” written by various members, where nearly all of them sought at some level to follow what was the confessional statement of faith for some variant of the AG (while offering other conversational bits):
Pearlman, Myer. Knowing the Doctrines of the Bible. Springfield, MO: Gospel Publishing House, 1937. (Revised edition published by Gospel Publishing House, 1948.)
Riggs, Ralph M. We Believe: A Comprehensive Statement of Christian Faith. Springfield, MO: Gospel Publishing House, 1954.
Menzies, William W., and Stanley M. Horton. Bible Doctrines: A Pentecostal Perspective. Springfield, MO: Logion Press, 1993.
Horton, Stanley M., ed. Systematic Theology: A Pentecostal Perspective. Springfield, MO: Logion Press, 1994. Revised edition, 1995.
Higgins, John R., Michael L. Dusing, and Frank D. Tallman. Introduction to Theology: A Classical Pentecostal Perspective. Kendall Hunt, 1993, 2008.
Yong, Amos. Renewing Christian Theology: Systematics for a Global Christianity. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2014. [Perhaps this latter should not be included as it intentionally sought broader confessionality but drew upon the World Assemblies of God Statement of Faith rather than a singular national church’s statement.]
Why do we justify lawbreaking for missionaries but demand deportation for “illegal” immigrants
There’s a jarring contradiction at the heart of evangelical practice that demands our attention. We send missionaries across the globe under false pretenses, yet we insist immigrants follow every letter of the law. We celebrate creative access to closed countries while calling for zero tolerance at our own borders. Something here doesn’t add up.
The Law We Demand … For Others
Within evangelical circles in the United States, the conversation around immigration often finds itself fixating on one word: law. Obey the law. Keep the law. Respect the law. Period. This legal framework feels unassailable—after all, isn’t respect for lawful authority a biblical principle (with constant reference made to Romans 13:1-7)? Yet this same community that demands strict legal compliance from immigrants shows remarkable flexibility when it comes to our global witness.
Consider, as one poignant example, our missionaries to what we euphemistically call ‘creative access countries’ (and used to call ‘closed’). These aren’t workers settling permanently, raising children who will claim citizenship, binding themselves to a new land and a new people. They are temporary residents (even if lasting for decades, with prolonged U.S. fundraising trips every so many years). And many enter under deceptive visa applications: listing things like education, tourism, or business when their true purpose is evangelism. They establish shell companies to mask church-planting efforts. They operate in ways that, if discovered, would result not merely in deportation but permanent bans from re-entry. We have found all manner of ways to soften such language and explain it as justified for the sake of the advancement of the gospel.
We don’t just permit this deception. We celebrate it! We fund it! We systematize it! Churches raise support specifically for workers who will knowingly lie to immigration authorities. Short-term mission teams routinely check ‘tourist’ on their entry forms while planning evangelistic activities, perhaps adding a token day of sightseeing to justify the label. We have a whole industry of parachurch organizations that only continue doing what they do by such justified deceits … all for the sake of sharing the good news of King Jesus.
I’ve personally done it many times (and intend to do so multiple times a year into the foreseeable future) as one committed to working with the global church for things like church planting, discipleship, care for the persecuted church, and education of Christian workers. I’ve smuggled Bibles and discipleship materials into countries that were banned by law. I’ve violated monetary laws as I carried significant resources to the families of imprisoned pastors. I’ve taught and preached messages about the saving work of Jesus that would have me deported immediately if the wrong people heard them or reported them to the governing authorities. I hear the words of a friend who is known to have said with a cheeky grin, “You can preach the gospel anywhere! But you may not be able to do it there more than once.”
The Gospel That Transcends Borders
Our justification is consistent: the gospel must spread everywhere. God’s kingdom doesn’t recognize human borders. Civil governments don’t have the final word on access to the message of Jesus. These are theological convictions we hold deeply (and rightly so). The Great Commission and the Greatest Commandment know no passport.
But then we turn to our own borders, and suddenly the calculus changes entirely.
When immigrants arrive in the United States, and whether owing to visa overstays, missed court dates, or other technicalities, find them marked as ‘illegal’, a considerable evangelical response is often swift condemnation. Deport them. They broke the law. No exceptions. If they are going to come here or stay here, they must do so legally. The very flexibility we insist upon for our missionaries evaporates when applied to those seeking refuge or opportunity here.
A Providential Irony
Here’s what makes this particularly troubling: the United States has an unprecedented evangelical presence (23% of the population, according to Pew in 2025). We have an abundance of churches, resources, and Christian infrastructure, and we are still (rightfully) committed to doing more, going more places, and developing further ways of gospel-izing our American neighbors. And people are arriving here, often from places we may call ‘unreached’, without us having to deceive a single border guard.
It would appear that divine providence has delivered mission fields to our doorstep, even of those in what may be ‘underreached’. Yet instead of seeing immigrants (perhaps even especially ‘illegal’ ones) as opportunities for witness, for loving as Christ loves, we too often see them as legal problems to be solved through law enforcement and bodily removal. We’ll cross oceans and lie to governments to reach the unreached. But when the unreached (or under-reached) cross borders to reach us, we demand they leave unless they are here legally.
Toward Theological Consistency
This isn’t a call to abandon missionary work (though we should be willing to rethink what we do, how we do it, and why we do it) or to endorse lawlessness. Rather, it’s a plea for careful reflection about consistency in how we apply our theology. If we believe the gospel transcends legal barriers abroad, how can we be indifferent to (or worse, hostile toward) its spread at home?
Several questions emerge:
Why do we justify visa deception for gospel access overseas but condemn immigration violations here? If governments don’t have the final word on gospel access in China or Iran, why do they have it at the U.S.-Mexico border? When did our theology of law become so selective? Shouldn’t we celebrate (as those committed to global evangelization) rather than criminalize the arrival of people we might otherwise never reach?
The evangelical church faces a choice: We can maintain our double standard, demanding legal precision from immigrants while funding legal deception for missionaries. Or we can develop a coherent theology that takes both the Great Commission and human dignity (that is, the Great Commandment) seriously—whether the border being crossed is theirs or ours.
If we truly believe the good news must go to all nations, perhaps we (as the church) should start by welcoming those nations when they come to us. After all, we’ve proven we’re willing to break laws to take the gospel to them. Why not extend the same grace when they arrive seeking life, hope, and perhaps (if we’re faithful to Jesus) the good news we claim to treasure?
This isn’t a call for government policy change. That’s another conversation. This is a call for the church to be the church that is committed to everyone hearing the good news of Jesus.
The border in our theology is showing. It’s time we addressed it honestly.
Title: To Pray with the Prophets (or Not): A Christo/Pneumato-logical Talking Back to God
Taking its cue from J. Richard Middleton’s provocative “Abraham’s Silence: The Binding of Isaac, the Suffering of Job, and How to Talk Back to God” (Baker Academic, 2021), this paper offers to rehear three prophetic prayers: Jeremiah’s silenced intercession (Jer 7:16-20), Ezekiel’s personal intercession (Ezek 4:12-17), and Amos’s (un)relenting intercession (Amos 7:1-9). These three prayers of prophets are selected for the various roles they play in intercessions in the midst of a revelation of Yahweh’s determined judgment. In this way, these are offered as potential prayer patterns for the church. However, these are brought into brief critical Christological and Pneumatological rehearing (and taking up) of the intercessions of these prophets within the intercessions of Jesus and the Spirit. These intercessions might then function as a means of faithfully “talking back to God” in the midst of certain judgment.
Here are a couple of comments I give to all students for an assignment meant to read Isaiah 14 and Ezekiel 28 on whether these seem to be texts about the fall of Satan. I require first a careful reading of the passages in whole as well as the surrounding passages noting the specifics of referent for the oracles as well as terms and phrases within the oracles and how they are meant to indicate the one being described and confronted.
A response concerning the “morning star” of Isaiah 14: The Hebrew was poorly translated into the Latin with “Lucifer” (and followed by the KJV) thus giving us a long history of a misreading as if this was about some evil being we name “Lucifer” or Satan (this is the ONLY text where the word “Lucifer” would have been used and given rise to the false idea as a name of Satan). “Morning star” was used as something pointing to divine blessing. It is also exclusively used as a name for Jesus in the NT: 2 Peter 1:19 and Revelation 2:28; and 22:16. In other words, it is never used of “Satan” anywhere in scripture unless we misread Isaiah 14 as such a reference.
A response to Luke 10:18 as if it were connected to Isaiah 14: Jesus says he “saw Satan fall from heaven like lightning” to his disciples on their return from a mission trip where they drove out unclean spirits, healed the sick, and raised the dead. It was not a claim about any original fall of Satan. It is about the victory of King Jesus over that enemy and all the works of death and chaos at work undoing the goodness of God’s creation and intent to set all things right.
A response to Edenic language in Ezekiel 28: Note that the cherub in Genesis 3 is placed to guard the way back. Yet it is the one likened to a cherub in Ezekiel 28 that is cast down from the mountain. Ezekiel 28 does not refer to any serpent (though interestingly the following chapters in Ezekiel will call the Pharaoh a sort of watery serpent/dragon to be fished from the river and given as food to the birds). Eden language is not sufficient since it is used a number of times in Ezekiel (as well as the imagery) just to refer to the idyllic beginnings of blessing by Yahweh. Further, it is part of the overall rich metaphoric imagery of Ezekiel to paint vivid and exaggerated prophetic pictures to communicate his message (easily noted throughout his book).
Today I received a typical email from one of my graduate students who shared that they felt like they were struggling with the readings at the graduate level. I get this type of email or question/concern every year from students and have offered advice previously along the lines I decided to write up and share for future reference for my students and others who might benefit from it. This should be heard as the words of someone just along the journey a bit further hopefully offering some helps to those struggling.
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It is a VERY common issue for students in graduate school to discover the level of readings (quantity and quality) have dramatically increased in challenge. A couple of tips I offer students:
You don’t have to read thoroughly everything that was assigned. Instead, you read smarter. Learn where to skim and where to pause and reread for care. The idea of the readings is not for fully grasping all of it but getting the sense along the way. You simply do not have the time for these readings to linger everywhere. So, figuring out what matters and how to read faster, longer, and with greater specificity will help immensely. Have grace for yourself along the way. You are stretching reading muscles that have not been stretched to this extent before.
You will definitely encounter terms and ideas you are unfamiliar with from any previous reading. This is to be expected as you are seeking to “master” a field of study. Know that you cannot always simply Google terms or ideas either. Since they may be technical to the field and searching for definitions online can actually at times be misleading because of the uniqueness of usages in any field of study. This is one of the reasons I have students journal all of their readings: to also ask questions about them (terms, ideas, challenges, approaches, etc.). This is the very place to ask such questions knowing that I expect students to not know all of the terminology and ideas so there is zero shame in asking (I’ve actually assigned students to ask such things). This is also where some books offer a “glossary” of the specific ways that terms are being used in the volume. There are often also other specialized books written specifically to help unpack such technical terms.
You need to figure out your ideal spaces and paces for best practices of reading. Be okay with your own pace of reading and be happy with simply moving on without having to have grasped all that you’ve read. Also, at the grad levels you will likely be reading things over years that circle back around using similar ideas and language and thus at your first exposure (or the first you’ve noticed) you aren’t necessarily even expected to remember it. You will pick some things up only through long-term and regular exposures. If you feel you really need to soak some part of a book, then consider writing a VERY brief summary of that part (like a single sentence for a paragraph or even chapter). Finding the right times in one’s day and week for particular reads is imperative. As is the right kind of space. Some places and times simply do not help with reading of technical works. I also recommend always having something to write with available. Feel free to mark up books or keep a writing journal beside you. This can even be where you simply indicate some idea to come back to later when you have a more opportune time or space to follow up.
You will benefit from people and places to discuss what you are reading. Your fellow classmates, professors, and sometimes others, will prove invaluable for discussing readings. Reading is not best experienced only as an isolated individual practice. I find it personally incredibly helpful to me (for retention and even insight) to find someone to talk with about what I’m reading. When you are reading with a class you have a built-in “book club” that is pre-made to discuss what is being read together (before, during, and after classes). This is also where I find journaling what I’m reading as well as simply making notations in books a helpful exercise. I’m not simply reading with others but reading with another version of myself. The version of myself that has not yet finished the readings. I can go back later (hours, days, weeks, etc) to encounter what I had written about what I was reading and have internal dialogue about such. This is actually a conversation with different versions of yourself. Further, find ways to incorporate the ideas and language of your readings into other courses, into life and ministry, etc. This will likely require “translation” as the terms and ideas are not meant to be directly shared in such settings, but when we “translate” terms and ideas (or at least attempting to) we often find ourselves better comprehending what we read to begin with or even discovering something as we tease it out in life and practice.
Hopefully these few tips can prove beneficial for you going forward.
I wrote a post back in March that garnered some attention: “Seven Reasons Theological Faculty Might Not Embrace Online Instruction”. While I offered reasons that I have encountered in my work across various institutions and educational organizations for the last number of years (that also included some of my own struggles with embracing online instruction), I had planned to post this follow-up post sooner. Better late than never.
So here are four reasons that I (personally) embrace online instruction as a theological educator though still with tempered enthusiasm by a number of reasons noted in that earlier post.
Location, Location, Location. I have the opportunity to contribute to the life of students I would not otherwise engage who cannot relocate to my institution for live-seated classes. At least in this day and age there is still the possibility of live courses online (a definite preference over asynchronous courses for myself).
Apostolicity.* Related to the first reason given above of engaging those who cannot physically attend the campus classes is the ability to engage students in otherwise “creative access countries” (and even more significant to my own sense of apostolic engagement where the church has yet to be planted or finds itself under severe restraint for open witness). I have many students all over the planet who simply do not have any opportunity otherwise for advanced theological and biblical training without leaving their setting. These students live and minister in contexts that are considered closed to open missionary engagement and so they require “creative” training for “access” to deeper discipleship into the good news of Jesus. In many of these contexts there are VERY few known believers (and/or the church is persecuted openly). The opportunity to contribute to the strengthening of gospelizing nations and peoples unreached, or governmentally unopened, is precisely my sense of call toward the apostolic work of the church advancing everywhere. My initial call to vocational ministry was (and remains) a call to the least reached and the yet-to-be reached.
Mediation is already the name of the game. As the Church, we already know that while disciples are best made in direct contact and shared life together, that we also are discipled by other media forms as mediated by the Spirit: scripture being the prime example in our lived experiences. The scriptures are words written to others in an ancient past that we confess (and hear and repeat and live into) that mediate God’s revelation to and for us. This modality of engaging text (in written or auditory form) should remind us that as we are engaged by the scripture to be more like Jesus, so we can be engaged in the digitally mediated environment to do the same for others. I was reminded of this by some of the constructive discussion Amos Yong (no surprise here) offered in his (and Dale Coulter’s) book “The Holy Spirit and Higher Education: Renewing the Christian University” (Baylor University Press, 2023).
It is our reality. This is the time and place we have been given. And it includes the digital. We do well to engage online forms of education as best we can (even when there seems to me to be better ways, we simply cannot avoid this altogether as the academy committed to serving the Church and the world). I owe it to my students (and potential students) to commit to making disciples who will make disciples using every tool available to do so.
What might be reasons you are committed to online teaching (if you are a professor/educator)? Or what other reasons do you think we ought to emphasis in our critical embrace of online educational modalities?
* “Apostolicity” is not being used here with regard to ideas of apostolic succession or to apostolic teaching. I would and have argued for such usage in other writings. For the sake of my usage here, I simply mean gospelizing among the least reached and/or unreached to see the church planted and multiplying.
Pentecostals should read Barth because of his radical Christological focus. He finds Jesus inescapable for all theological construction. This should resonate immediately with Pentecostals who are committed to the “Full Gospel” message about Jesus: saving, sanctifying, baptizing in the Spirit, healing, and coming soon as king.
Pentecostals should read Barth because of his intentional pastoral concerns in his writings (Evangelical Theology; Dogmatics in Outline;Church Dogmatics) not to mention the collections of sermons and reflections on prayer. Barth was a pastor and preacher. His concerns were for the lived life of the church. While Barth was not pragmatic and all too many Pentecostals may be, Pentecostals are likewise committed very intentionally to pastoral concerns and churchly life. Here he offers deeper levels of reflection by and for the church.
Pentecostals should read Barth because he was a man committed to careful reflection upon the Scriptures (one may note for example the sheer volume of citations in his final volume of Church Dogmatics on Scripture references that is fashioned for use within the church’s life). Barth’s publications are saturated in the Scriptures and seek always to flow from and back to the Scriptures as faithful witnesses to the God of the Scriptures. One can quibble about his interpretations of the Scriptures, but not about his concern to try to hear them well.
Pentecostals should read Barth because of his language of testimony as a shared feature of his theology and the Pentecostal emphasis on testimony. This is rooted in God being toward us and our responding to him. We confess who he is and what he has done. We testify what we hear and see and experience of the life of God in and among us. Pentecostals might benefit from a more clearly articulated theology of testimony rooted in God’s self-giving love toward us and toward the world.
I offer this list not as in any sense comprehensive for why I contend Pentecostals should read Barth. Further, I can understand and appreciate those who have their emphatic reasons for why they might reject Barth or his writings (some owing to poor early interpreters of Barth, some to professors of their own who simply never spent time with Barth and received a message of danger regarding Barth without themselves reading him, and some for Barth’s life that failed to align with the message he proclaimed).
In the end, I would encourage folks because they will find a friend for their journey who longs to proclaim the God who is always better than our proclamations and who will do all that must be done for our good and for the good of the world He has created.
For those who may be interested (I’d recommend finding a library for access given its cost), there is a new publication out on Karl Barth and Pentecostal Theology (T&T Clark, 2024) written by a stellar lineup of fourteen Pentecostal scholars (check out the list of contributors and their respective chapters in the link above). Sadly, I am not one of them. HA.
Have you ever wondered what the Church is supposed to do about those crazy texts of the Spirit of the LORD coming upon folks in the OT and then they go out and kill people? Or what about the Spirit of the LORD that deceives? Or what about that “evil spirit from he LORD” that comes on Saul? Well…wonder no longer (not really, but at least I offer one way of hearing these texts).
I was invited to lead a book club presentation for Evangel University in Springfield, MO, on Wednesday, April 9th on my book A Theology of the Spirit in the Former Prophets: A Pentecostal Perspective (CPT Press, 2018). There is a link to the audio below as well as a one page handout I provided at that gathering. The audio includes all manner of my typical spice and sarcasm in presenting things I love. 🙂 I am imagining I propose things in this presentation that might just challenge many of the ideas about the Spirit in the OT.
HERE is the audio link for those who might care to listen to my half hour summary(ish) presentation of the book. I do share about some proposed new trajectories for a theology of the Spirit.
And for those with money burning a hole in their pocket who just want to support the writings of a theological bibliophile, here is a link to my book on Amazon.com:
It is hard to believe that with all of the courses I have taught over the years that I have yet to lecture on Karl Barth. Though nearly every position I have held as a professor (full faculty, lecturer, visiting lecturer, etc) has been in Old Testament, I have done substantial reading and reflection (and academic work) in theology itself and specifically the works of Karl Barth (and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, but I have taught a full course on the life and work of Bonhoeffer). Those who spend much time with me in person will encounter Barth making his way into conversations at some point. Those who know some of my history may know that I co-blogged some years ago at the affectionately named iheartbarth.wordpress.com. That says something of my affinities even as it does not say anything of my critiques or differences. Those who video chat with me from my office may even see Barth volumes in my background (right below Bonhoeffer 😉 ).
And while I have yet to lecture on Barth, to be sure, he is ever present in my ideas and words in preaching and teaching and in nearly everything I have written over the last 15 years even though not always specifically cited…not plagiarized (so my students hear that)…just present.
Tonight that changes. I was asked to lecture in a graduate course on World Christianity specific to the life and works of Barth and even more so to his response and challenge to the German Liberalism of his day (many thanks to Lisa Millen for the invite!). With that in mind, I wrote up a few page talking point lecture and share those notes here, for whatever it may be worth to my readers. Happy reading. And if you want to chat Barth…let me know. 🙂
Today in my AGTS Hermeneutics class we were discussing the genre of “epistle” or “letter” and the ways in which elements of “occasionality” and “rhetoric” fit into good readings of the New Testament letters. I always expect students will have questions about “women” and “ministry/preaching/teaching/eldership”. While I have written on the subject pertaining to other texts of the Bible elsewhere (in blogs and in publication), I offer here a short 6 minute 50 second student recorded audio of my end of class discussion on 1 Timothy 2:11-15 in answer to a student’s pointed question about this text. Apologies as the recording was begun about 30 seconds into my reply. The student had decided to record the discussion for a friend and when I found out, I asked for a copy to share as well. So here it is for whatever it is worth. 🙂
Here is the text in the New English Translation:
11 A woman must learn[r] quietly with all submissiveness. 12 But I do not allow[s] a woman to teach or exercise authority[t] over a man. She must remain quiet.[u]13 For Adam was formed first and then Eve. 14 And Adam was not deceived, but the woman, because she was fully deceived,[v] fell into transgression.[w]15 But she will be delivered through childbearing,[x] if she[y] continues in faith and love and holiness with self-control.
(and HERE is the hyperlink to the text on Bible Gateway that includes the helpful footnotes as well)
I wrote four short phrases or words on the white board as the student had read these verses:
“learn in quietness”
“teach or exercise authority”
“deceived”
“saved through child-bearing”
You will hear the audio pick up where I’ve already begun discussing “learn in quietness”. I have offered that this phrase is the precise expected posture and response of a disciple or student rather than intended as a censure against. It is a call for entering into discipleship directly.
I know this short response does not answer all manner of questions you may have about the text (or that I still have about this text). It is not comprehensive of the passage. I say these things recognizing there are numerous other readings of this text and its possible function and intent. Yet all these caveats aside, I have offered here a brief reply for those who have wondered about this pivotal passage for those arguing that women cannot be pastors or preach.
And I say, not only can women preach and teach the good news of King Jesus … they MUST do so … as we all must do so!
