Barth’s theology started as a theology of crisis. Luther’s as a theology of anxiety. I think I’ve come to realize, at least for me, that I have a theology of futility. What I mean is that there is an overriding sense that the theological task is often a matter of utter futility. It seems, that in order to be considered an actual theologian the would-be theologian must meet muster with the gatekeepers of the guild. It seems as if one is to be considered a theologian worth one’s salt that they must have faculty and altitude to publish essays, books, and articles the peers in the communio academia are willing to sign off on; or at least feel the weight to have to work through. I understand, we need to have regulative parameters for what counts as quality and even orthodox theological reflection. The trouble is that at the heights what comes with such reflection, and an ability to engage in it at a high level, is the temptation/sin of pride and elitism. This is not a new problem, but it is a problem that attends the academic context wherein the anthropological high point is one where the intellectualist and intellection is valued above all else.

Often the way the Christian theologian rationalizes their particular ghetto is to say that what they are doing is for the Church; this sounds noble, and may well be how the theologian thinks of their task. But I would suggest that typically, at a functional level, this rationale only has theoretical reality and not concrete as such. In other words, here is how things appear to me: It seems to me that most theologians are stuck in the ditch of publish or perish, and as such have given into the sub-culture or cottage-factory that that sort of drive has cultivated. I have read many publications from many fine theologians, but the reality is that I am probably only a miniscule percentage of people in the Church who will ever read these studies and publications. Besides the peers, there are only a handful of people in the churches who will have the desire and thus the capacity to even want to read such technical manuals. So, in what meaningful sense can the theologian claim to be doing what they are doing for the churches if what they are doing, particularly in their publications where they are building their professional CVs, has no traction with regular church people whatsoever?

Some theologians might point to the fact that as professors they are helping to develop a whole new generation of pastor-theologians who can make great impact on the Church at large. But if my time in seminary is any sort of gauge, if it had any sort of normativity tied into it, most of the guys and gals I was in seminary with would openly say they were only there to get the degree and then get into real life church ministry. If this is the case with most students at bible colleges and seminaries, then in what real life meaningful sense can the theologian-professor claim to be actually making an impact on a whole generation of forthcoming pastors, missionaries, chaplains and the like?

My point is to paint a realistic picture of the way things actually are, and not pretend like they aren’t this way. In my own North American evangelical context, I lift up my church sub-culture as exhibit A. The evangelical churches, in my view, are in total free-fall and collapse when it comes to people who are actually being challenged to grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ. Why is this? Most likely it has to do with what I was noting previously: i.e. the guys and gals I was in seminary with are the norm; they junk their training in depth theological and exegetical training for what they consider to be real life pastoral ministry (meeting the felt needs and all). The onus might seem to be on the students, and pastors, and not the theologians per se. Even so, the reality is that I think many professor-theologians know this, and so find refuge among their peers at conferences and publications. And so, a ghetto is created; more than one. The professor-theologians have their own, which is characterized by an elitism and intellectualist norms. Whereas the pastors have their own ghetto, characterized by a focus on doing real life ministry that is willing to tip the hat at their seminary training here and there. And then you have people like me who live in the cracks and gutters of the various ghettos.

Maybe you can see why I see it all in rather dark hues, and melancholy tones. It seems like a drab landscape that the daily Christian simply cannot find any sort of raison d’être within. There is a futility to the theological task that says that what it is doing is for the Church. I am not saying that the theological task should not have benefit for the Church, but to make that the reason for the theological task can only leave us in-betweens feeling like it is all pointless. The theological task, in order to not fall prey to this glut of futility-feeling must be one that is done unto God in Jesus Christ alone! This is the only place I find consolation as a working-man theologian. When I attempt to think thoughts of God that aren’t first tinged by a doxological frame of heart, thoughts that are not seeking Him first and His righteousness I feel hopeless about what I’m doing, and why I’m doing it. It seems to me that if we do the theological task as unto God, that the benefit will organically come for the Church and world at large. That if we do the theological task as witness bearers to the majesty we are beholding in the dialogical and prayerful endeavor that theology is, then the bounty of this will be all the more for all those we come into contact and fellowship with.

But what I am describing denudes the normal matrices of what counts as normative for what it means to be a critical theologian. The elitism has no place to fester, and the ghettos have no air to live from, when theology is done before God who is Holy. This is the real test of whether I am encountering theological practice that I want to be a part of. Are the theologians I am interacting with so clearly enamored with the glory of God that the sort of organic overflow I was referring to previously is the primary characteristic? People in churches need to see these sorts of theologians. Ones who have come to sense the futility of the whole task, unless based alone on doing theology as an act of worship. It is only from this sort of acting that the charity that characterizes God’s heart in Christ will be borne witness to and thus spread into the lives of others in the churches. I am skeptical that but a few will actually come to the point that they see what they are doing ‘as straw’, as the ‘Dumb Ox,’ Thomas Aquinas said of his magnum opus, the Summa Theologiae. Theology is futile, but God is not. Once that acknowledgement is made, and begins to characterize the theologian’s mantle, then a theology that is genuinely done for the Church can be done; a theology that is first seeking Christ and His righteousness.