Scan barcode
A review by jenny101
Why Study the Past?: The Quest for the Historical Church by Rowan Williams
challenging
slow-paced
1.5
In Why We Study the Past Rowan Williams presents a philosophical approach to why and how we should study history. He methodically builds his argument, adding a new layer of complexity in each chapter, until making his thesis point at the end of the book: we must study all Christian history from the vantage point of Jesus as God’s specific action in history, or none of that history will have an understandable context (p 108, paraphrased). The binding of Christian history is how Christians through the ages have applied their interpretation of who Jesus was and what his work accomplished to the problems and questions that present themselves to each generation. But it is each community’s diverse and complex understandings of Jesus and his work that undermines Williams’ thesis of a unified history.
Reading the canonical gospels and epistles we recognize that the writers of each had differing understandings of Jesus, his work, and how we are to apply it to our lives. Then we add to this the non-canonical gospels and epistles; heresies, dogma, and tense agreements to disagree; and multiple hermeneutical approaches employed by modern theologians. Williams’ claim to a single, unified Christian history is tenuous because there is no single, unified picture of Jesus and his work. Yet, Williams continues, stating this approach will
“[establish] once and for all the possibility of a humanity that does not depend for its harmony on any transient human alliances or definitions of common interest or common purpose” (p 109)
and that will help Christians to “debate across cultures,” defining cultures as “liberal-conservative,” “Western and Eastern churches,” and “churches in the developing world” versus “those of the prosperous global ‘north’” (pp 107,108). These are all internal struggles, so whose Jesus are we basing our discussions on? Which interpretation of Jesus’ work will we use to determine how we ought to live in community now?
For Williams, it seems the answer is the Jesus put forward by the modern Anglican church, as he refers to the “debates about divorce, women’s ministry or homosexual activity” among the cross-cultural arguments to solve (p. 103). This approach silences the voices of Christian women, queer folk, and other minorities in our culture. Instead of incorporating the womanist, Black, queer, trans, or liberational understandings of Jesus and his work, Williams seems to be suggesting that this is part of “shar[ing] the widespread and fashionable illiteracy of this culture,” “chaotic diversity,” and “malign versions of global unity” that his unified Christian history is meant to help modern Christians to debate. These are word choices that should make us nervous.
Reading the canonical gospels and epistles we recognize that the writers of each had differing understandings of Jesus, his work, and how we are to apply it to our lives. Then we add to this the non-canonical gospels and epistles; heresies, dogma, and tense agreements to disagree; and multiple hermeneutical approaches employed by modern theologians. Williams’ claim to a single, unified Christian history is tenuous because there is no single, unified picture of Jesus and his work. Yet, Williams continues, stating this approach will
“[establish] once and for all the possibility of a humanity that does not depend for its harmony on any transient human alliances or definitions of common interest or common purpose” (p 109)
and that will help Christians to “debate across cultures,” defining cultures as “liberal-conservative,” “Western and Eastern churches,” and “churches in the developing world” versus “those of the prosperous global ‘north’” (pp 107,108). These are all internal struggles, so whose Jesus are we basing our discussions on? Which interpretation of Jesus’ work will we use to determine how we ought to live in community now?
For Williams, it seems the answer is the Jesus put forward by the modern Anglican church, as he refers to the “debates about divorce, women’s ministry or homosexual activity” among the cross-cultural arguments to solve (p. 103). This approach silences the voices of Christian women, queer folk, and other minorities in our culture. Instead of incorporating the womanist, Black, queer, trans, or liberational understandings of Jesus and his work, Williams seems to be suggesting that this is part of “shar[ing] the widespread and fashionable illiteracy of this culture,” “chaotic diversity,” and “malign versions of global unity” that his unified Christian history is meant to help modern Christians to debate. These are word choices that should make us nervous.