Why does theology matter?

It struck me the other day that this was a question I really should have an answer to, even if it is only an answer to the related question of why theology matters to me. After all I’ve now shelled out hard cash to actually do a master’s degree in theology – begs the question as to why. The answer could be as simple as I’ve decided to study something that for a complex of reasons is of interest to me. I could be studying trees or trains, but it just happens to be theology. So it matters in the sense and to the extent that any other hobby might matter But I’m a lazy hobbyist. While I could have just read a pile of books on my own over the next couple of years, I need the externally imposed discipline of an academic structure to make me actually do it. The last bit is true as it happens. I probably do need a bit of imposed discipline because of my innate indolence. And if I actually got round to hobby theology reading, it would in all likelihood be easy and familiar stuff. There’s certainly lots of fluffy pop theology out there to be read. But it has to matter more than this I think. I’m not at a stage in this life where I have the time to bumble around wandering off into stuff.

But before answering why it matters, it might be worth working out what “it” is. Normally these days in polite society, the word theology is qualified. While linguistically it is simply a word which means the “ology” of God (or the study of “theos”), that simply begs further questions. Some maintain that on that basis theology is the study of nothing. But for most of history this has been a minority view; the idea of studying God is not, at least at first blush, ridiculous.

In my corner of the world, for a long time (or at least a couple of thousand years), the God in view was well recognized, if inevitably only dimly understood. He was the God revealed in the Bible, and to a lesser extent in all the stuff the Bible claimed He was responsible for. This was and is a lot of stuff, because it is literally everything that exists. So everyone was clear that this God was the subject matter of the discipline of theology. Indeed for some time those centres of “higher” learning we call universities were places where people beavered away in just one discipline – theology. But things have changed. Not only is there no consensus as to whether there is a God, but even among those who agree that there is, there is no consensus as to who He is, or in which ways He (or she/it/them) may be known and studied. Hence the need to qualify theology with other words like Christian, Biblical, Islamic etc. And because theology is usually conceived of as an academic discipline, and in the modern academy one has to specialize, the word is usually further qualified by terms like historical, pastoral, systematic etc.

That all said, for me it’s quite easy to cut through a lot of this apparent and largely unhelpful complexity. As any reader of this blog will be able to work out quite quickly (particularly if you read my profile) I’m a Christian. So already the question as to whether there is a God or not is answered. Not only is there a God, but He has revealed Himself ultimately in the person of Jesus and throughout history in the Bible. I know this because I know Him. That’s kind of the point. So it’s this God whose words and ways I want to spend the next couple of years studying in more depth and detail than I’ve been able to up to this point. While I see no need to qualify the word theology, to be helpful and for the sake of clarity, I mean Christian and Biblical Theology. This still leaves open lots of different avenues to explore. God’s revealing of Himself in history has been dynamic not static, and it has been primarily relational not propositional (although appropriate propositions are important). So how ideas about Him have developed in the history covered by the Bible, as He has progressively revealed Himself (He didn’t just dump all the information we could cope with in one dollop), is an important thing to study, as is how thinking about that revelation has itself developed is important. This God and claims and ideas about Him have greatly affected individuals and communities in history and continue to do so today; this is important for understanding today’s world. How people have responded to this God, thus revealed, and how we should respond, is also something worth contemplating. For these reasons and many more besides, spending time in theological study does indeed matter. And it’s not all about observing effects on other people.

Who God is, and what He says, is not just worth studying in terms of their effects on others. All of this is not external to me such that I am able to be a detached observer. I already know from science that there is no such thing as completely independent and objective experimentation in which I as observer merely observe. This is even more the case in theology. After all I am called to love this God whom I am seeking to study with all of my heart, soul and mind (Matthew 22:37). As I do that I’m to be “transformed” by the “renewing of my mind” (Rom 12:2). At the very least this implies change for me as I study. It is true that all learning implies change, although only in some cases will this be externally observable (changes in observable attitudes and behaviours). But that cannot be the case here. And in the case of theology, such change should not just be for my personal benefit, but for the benefit of others, in the particular faith community that I identify with (usually called a “church”).

So, doing theology will (should) bring about change. It would be odd to embark on a course of action that one expects to bring about bad change, so you won’t be surprised to learn that I think this will be good change. And if it is good, and it is big (whatever big means in this context), then it will matter at least to me. If it is good and big and in some way brings benefits to others, then it will matter even more.  

Logically, the atheists could be right, in which case I’m simply delusional. If I am, then at least I am in a large and distinguished company. But I don’t think I am (delusional that is). We shall see.