Re-enchanting Christianity by Dave Tomlinson
Dave Tomlinson is the British author of The Post Evangelical, Running into God, and now Re-Enchanting Christianity. He is a practising priest (sounds vaguely like an unmentionable vice when put like that) - vicar of St Luke’s, Holloway in London, and has come on a long journey from being one of an ‘apostolic’ team of leaders of the early charismatic ‘new church’ movement called Harvestime, later Covenant Ministries, headed by Bryn Jones. Leaving this team after a number of years, Tomlinson headed his own church network, named ‘Teamwork’, which was loosely associated with other networks and leaders inluding people like John Noble (‘Team Spirit’) and Gerald Coates (Pioneer). Briefly, GCC became part of ‘Teamwork’ - during which time,
I got to meet Tomlinson at some increasingly bizarre but interesting gatherings
of church and network leaders. Tomlinson moved his operation from
Middlesborough to Clapham in London; then he moved from the whole charismatic
inspired ‘new church’ movement to St Luke’s. Quite a journey - not just from New
Church to Church of England, but a radical rethink on the whole nature and
expression of Christian belief. Sorry about the bio, but it helps to create a context -
which may be helpful for some. This book is not primarily theological, though the reader will find ample helpings of references to theologians of all kinds: Brueggemann, Moltmann, Marcus Borg, Dominic Crossan, Hans Küng, Martin Buber, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Karl Rahner, Walter Wink, Sally MacFague, Paul Ricoeur, C.S. Lewis - the list goes on and on, and it’s not just name-dropping or secondary quotations from another author; Tomlinson has digested the content of each at first hand and is able to weave their contributions into what he has to say in a totally down-to-earth, unpretentious and easy-going manner. The book is actually a refreshing combination of theology and practical application, with a close eye to contemporary culture and society - especially its spirituality, which Tomlinson vigorously affirms, and with which he is clearly closely involved. At the same time he thoroughly affirms the expressive potential of the church’s rituals in which he immerses himself as parish priest. Tomlinson’s central theme is that contemporary western culture is more spiritual than it has ever been, and that it is not difficult to connect with this spirituality as a Christian, but that the taste of the age is not for the religion, belief and dogma with which Christianity is closely identified. He quotes with ease from surveys which bear out his views: western society is becoming more spiritual, not less, and the church needs to sit up and take notice. Some strong challenges are given, especially to the evangelical wing of the church - which Tomlinson believes is overdue for change. However, this should not mislead us into thinking that Tomlinson is overthrowing orthodox faith. He comfortably accepts trinitarian belief, the central place of the death and resurrection of Jesus, the necessity of the experience of the Spirit. But his reframing of these basic doctrines will leave many (myself included) feeling highly uncomfortable. Probably healthily uncomfortable! The starting point is an assumption, clearly based on personal experience and the experience of others Tomlinson has encountered, that many believers have become ‘disenchanted’ with the Christian faith as commonly expressed and practised. This should come as no surprise to those who have read studies of those abandoning the church, but not the faith. Tomlinson draws on Ricoeur’s description of a threefold response to texts - naive, literal acceptance; disenchantment, and then the possibility of a ‘second naiveté’ - and applies this to the changing patterns of spiritual journey. He argues for the necessity of a deconstruction of the faith, as a precursor to a deeper, more mature faith which is a synthesis of belief and doubt - or a second innocence, as he describes it. Tomlinson argues for a ‘progressive orthodoxy’, by contrasting an orthodoxy which is a ‘closed system’ of belief, and an orthodoxy which dialogues with culture, and is itself changed in the process - as it must, to adjust to changed contexts in which it finds itself. This will set alarm-bells ringing for some; but Tomlinson presses on; he affirms the importance of Christianity’s past, but also its need to change through conversation with the present. He applies this to biblical interpretation - affirming the continuous reality and necessity of interpretation as ancient texts are applied to contemporary contexts. Hard questions need constantly to be asked of the text; to engage in what Ricoeur has called a ‘hermeneutics of suspicion’. Marginalised groups, such as slaves and women, are cited as examples in history of challenges brought to commonly accepted scriptural interpetations. One can think of other present-day examples. Tomlinson refutes the idea of the text as a fixed entity over time, and asserts that the text is on the move - on a trajectory of justice and inclusion. The trajectory thrusts meaning from the world of the author’s intended meaning into the world of the reader - in the appropriation of its core message - which Tomlinson takes to be ‘the good news of God’s liberating love in Christ’. Tomlinson proceeds to look at ways in which we view God through language - where language acts as metaphor for what cannot ultimately be described in language, rather than crude literalism - and where language needs to maintain a balance between idolatry (of the words themselves) and irrelevance (where it fails to resonate with the divine). He uses the example of referring to God as ‘mother’ to illustrate the unhealthy extremes, and the usefulness of metaphor. He continues on the same line of thought by asking the question ‘Who is Christ for us today?’ Whilst accepting that Christ is the decisive revelation of God, he points out deep divisions about who this Christ is said to be as reflected in the deeply diverging attitudes and lifestyles of his followers. Bonhoeffer is cited as one who wrestled in depth with the deeply political ramifications of what it meant to seek a Christ who is relevant for today. Tomlinson looks at the birth stories, which he finds to work more powerfully as metaphor than literal truth. He examines the concept of the kingdom of God as central to Christ’s mission, which he finds to be a message both of personal and social transformation. Of the atonement, Tomlinson rejects the penal substitution explanation, unable to accept that Jesus needed to die so that we could be forgiven, when God is willing to forgive anyway. Nevertheless, the cross is still the ‘axis mundi’, and Tomlinson expresses a preference for an understanding based on a mixture of Christus Victor and Abelard’s moral influence theory. That he may be applying a prejudiced caricature to an understanding of penal substitution is suggested in give-aways like ‘the angry God presented in penal substitution’ (page 60). ‘Angry God’? Nevertheless, his own interpretation as developed in his reflections on Girard, Wink, Moltmann and L’Engle does not emerge far from a more nuanced interpretation of penal substitution - if he could see it. The chapter on the resurrection seems to be encouraging a move away from orthodoxy to appease the modern scientific intellect, but Tomlinson is in fact arguing for a more thoughtful understandng of what might be meant by resurrection ‘body’ than a crude literalism. He also argues against logical ‘proofs’ of the resurrection, so beloved of apologists, urging that mystery be allowed a more prominent place in understanding Christ’s resurrection. Likewise Tomlinson turns his revisionist attention to the Spirit, arguing for a much broader understanding of the Spirit in creation than limiting the Spirit to the context of the life of the believer - and linking this with a view of the earth as our spiritual home in the present, rather than a place condemned to demolition while we await transfer to a future replacement. Hell likewise receives the attention of the surgeon’s knife, as does prayer, the place of the Spirit in the church, and finally the existence of truth in other faiths outside the Judaeo-Christian traditions, and the affirmation of the possibility of parallel redemption stories in other nations contemporary with ancient Israel, as suggested by Brueggemann’s exposition based on Amos 9:7. Tomlinson concludes with an ‘open border’ appeal to the church, in which its ‘closed border’ practices and beliefs are abandoned, as it seeks to identify common cause with Missio Dei wherever it can be detected in all kinds of groups of people of all kinds of faith traditions or none at all. At the same time, he argues for an uncompromising commitment to the unique truths of the Christian faith - but that these be allowed to stand out for themselves alongside multifaceted truths from alternative sources and traditions. That this is not mere fanciful theory is borne out by an abundance of example, not least based on the experience of St Luke’s, Holloway. Many will seize on throw-away lines from this book as evidence of the author’s
abandonment of the historic faith for a watered-down alternative. Such a view would be a lazy response to a writer who seeks a serious engagement with the emerging culture, and has found and understood many practical keys to such an engagement, with a practical and thought-through theology to back it up. The book can be read easily in a few hours. It deserves weeks and months of reflection.
|