Pastoral Theology: Is it an Oxymoron?

Chris Simon, , Southern Cross College

The tension between theory and practice is an issue that has challenged the church throughout the ages and explains the vexed question of biblical inspiration that confronted the Reformers. That question was whether or not to include the letter of James in the canon of Scripture, as the practical aspects of James’ ‘works’ appeared to contradict the strong ‘faith’ emphasis of Romans. The Reformation centred very much on the ‘faith’ as outlined in Romans in contrast to the perceived distortions of ‘works’ as practiced by the church at that time.4 It’s swing to the Pauline, and away from the Johannine, Lukan, and other New Testament literature, obscured the linkage between community practice and the theology which ordered the early Church.

A Prelude


As a way of introducing myself—and my context—I am an Anglican employed by the Assemblies of God National College in Sydney (Australia) to ‘head up’ the department of Pastoral Theology and Practice. This paper was presented as one of the annual ‘Barrett Memorial Lectures’, soon after my appointment to the College.  It may not surprise you then that in preparing for this paper, I searched in many places—literally all over the world!—to ‘get up to speed’ after some 30 years in church ministry. As I searched the various sources, I found myself identifying somewhat with Professor Harvey Cox in an article in the Pneuma journal of Spring 1993.1 Cox said:

When I attended the annual meeting of the Society for Pentecostal Studies (SPS), held last fall in Springfield, Missouri, I was welcomed at least as warmly as the younger son in the parable who had decided to forsake the husks for the more satisfying fare of his father’s table. I felt genuinely included. Still, I could see that some of the members had a little difficulty hiding their astonishment that the author of The Secular City, and a long time member of the faculty of Harvard Divinity School, should appear at an SPS gathering, and one held at the main seminary of the Assemblies of God at that. But when I explained—quite truthfully—that I had not come to give a paper but to listen and learn, no one seemed surprised.2

Well, I haven’t written a controversial best seller, but I was leader of a recognised mainline Charismatic church and through the grace of both the Australian Pentecostal movement and the Lord I have felt both welcome and at home. I do not want to reiterate Harvey Cox’s whole article—as interesting as it is—but merely want to highlight the fact that Harvey Cox spoke very positively of a combined course that he and Professor Eldin Villafane conducted jointly with Harvard Divinity School and the Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. That course was not only the first ever Pentecostal theological course offered at Harvard, but it was “a roaring success”.3  Well may we wish the Barrett lectures a share of that sort of ‘roaring success’!

            As a kind of post-script to this introduction, it is worth noting that in that same volume, C. Mel. Robeck of Fuller Seminary argues a very forceful case for the recognition of the highly ecumenical nature of the Pentecostal movement. Robeck’s argument is that although the World Council of Churches has taken the spotlight (or should that be ‘the high ground’?) of ecumenical activities, the Pentecostal movement has made a different but still important contribution to the whole ecumenical venture. Its rapid rise and ability to sustain what Margaret Poloma has called the ‘charismatic moment’ raises core issues of how Pentecostalism integrates its pastoral theory and practice.

A little background

How did I come to consider this whole question? Well, first of all, my research seeks to apply the ‘practical’ aspects and implications of what I have sought to research at perhaps a more ‘academic’ level. It is a model comprehensively demonstrated by such programs as the Fuller Seminary Doctor of Ministry Degree. The program relies on a solid basic theological degree (or its equivalent) and then seeks to integrate further intensive reading, teaching and reflection into the practical outworking of ministry itself. It demonstrates that the theory and the practice can, and indeed must, work together. I have sought to apply the concept in subsequent research and writing in relation to leadership within the church—‘what are the biblical images of leadership and what applicability can they have for today’s church’.

          The tension between theory and practice is an issue that has challenged the church throughout the ages and explains the vexed question of biblical inspiration that confronted the Reformers. That question was whether or not to include the letter of James in the canon of Scripture, as the practical aspects of James’ ‘works’ appeared to contradict the strong ‘faith’ emphasis of Romans. The Reformation centred very much on the ‘faith’ as outlined in Romans in contrast to the perceived distortions of ‘works’ as practiced by the church at that time.4 It’s swing to the Pauline, and away from the Johannine, Lukan, and other New Testament literature, obscured the linkage between community practice and the theology which ordered the early Church.

          This is but one aspect of the tension between theory and practice that continually challenges the church. In the practice of ministry there is a constant tension between compromise and intransigence, mediated, as demonstrated by Jesus’ ministry, by the need for sensitivity to context /circumstances.5

          To demonstrate the wide reaching implications of what I am suggesting, Paul speaks some strong words concerning the danger of ‘knowledge’6 (which ‘puffs up’).7 Paul was not condemning ‘knowledge’ as such but its abuse. Similarly, there is increasing recognition within Pentecostal and Charismatic churches that the gospel message was proclaimed in Word and deed, that the practical (e.g. signs and wonders) was often a prelude to the effective preaching that led to so many conversions. Abuse of ‘practice’ when Simon the sorcerer sought to ‘buy’ God’s gifting led to condemnation, and the thrust of the Corinthian correspondence also highlights the danger of an imbalanced ministry.

          In my own ministry, I have often experienced the practical outcomes of this tension. To give an example from my more recent teaching experience, I have served on a particular academic committee in recent years, and it has been a source of ongoing frustration to hear somewhat disparaging comments to the effect that in the area of pastoral theology it is not so necessary for a teacher of a subject to hold research qualifications.8 Now, at all levels of academia there are justifiable exceptions—teaching suitability may be extended to those who have widely recognised abilities in their area of expertise, for instance, or to those who have published widely. And in reality, there are many practitioners that have widely recognised pastoral skills which validate their ability to teach ‘applied theology’—but the tendency to ‘compromise’ qualification standards still troubles me. In academic terms it seems to suggest that practical theology is not subject to the normal rules, and is thus a less valid path of academic excellence.

          Now, again, it is important to recognise and hear from those practitioners that have succeeded in a particular field—and ministry is very much about effective practice. The ministry of Jesus himself must surely emphasise this fact. However, how do we judge success? Is it by numbers, is it by popularity, can it be equated to sheer pragmatism? Please don’t get me wrong, but as an indefinable category, ‘success’ can be a very tenuous indicator. Is a medical doctor to be considered more appropriate to teach medical students because he or she does more operations, or because they have a popular ‘bedside manner’? Surely, a solid theological foundation must be a priority for theological education?

          In a discussion with Stephen Pickard of St Mark’s School of Theology in Canberra,9 Stephen made what I consider a very profound comment. As a systematic theologian (he prefers the title ‘Applied Theologian’) he believes that if the theologians, the biblical scholars, and the historians were doing their job properly, then there would be no need for separate departments of  ‘practical theology’. Now before everyone recoils in horror, you may be consoled by the fact that Stephen’s opinion is stridently opposed by others in the area, among whom I include myself. (Otherwise, I would be out of a job!) However, Stephen’s core point is valid—you cannot have any theological discipline without some practical application. So the desire to ‘apply’ theology that has already been discussed should be the desire of all theological disciplines.

          So, where do we go from here? I seem to have at one and the same time raised more questions than answers—but perhaps that is part of the academic ‘game’.  Perhaps I have trodden on sacred ground (treading on ‘sacred cows’ seems somehow an inappropriate simile for a Pentecostal lecture!). The question is, ‘is there ground for an integration which simultaneously recognises the true value of the practical, but also sees the need for solid theological underpinning?’ I wish to contrast two very different sources: the first from a book by an ‘Anglican’ divine of last century and the second, a book on ‘ethics’.10  These contrast the basic issues. The first image gives some direction towards an integration and recognition of ‘the big picture’—showing the necessity of combining theology and practice. The other, although an extreme example, shows the danger of not integrating—of having, in this case, practice without theology. The fact that one is Anglican and the other not, has no relevance to the matter being discussed. So, first from John Henry Newman:

Truth is the guiding principle of theology and theological inquiries; devotion and edification, of worship; and expedience, of government. The instrument of theology is reasoning; of worship, our emotional nature; of rule, command and coercion. Further, reasoning tends to rationalism, devotion to superstition and enthusiasm, and power to ambition and tyranny.11

Newman here recognises the need to integrate reason (theology), emotion (worship), and expediency (or order). He also warns that, taken too far, each element can have disastrous effects: too much theology and we become overly human and rational, leaving no room for the Spirit. Too much (misguided) ‘devotion’, on the other hand, and we can fall into superstition and (misguided) enthusiasm.12 And finally, too much power and ambition tempts us towards tyranny.

          I do not need to remind you that, sadly, there are many examples of abuses of each of these facets throughout the history of the church. A book entitled Ethics in the Sanctuary, by Margaret P. Battin highlights some examples. This book refers, among others, to the practices of a particular ‘First Church of Christ, Scientist’ that believes that:

…what we (mistakenly) call “disease” is produced by a “radically limited and distorted view of the true spiritual nature and capacities of men and women”; illness results from “human alienation from God,” produced by fundamental misunderstanding. Disease is symptomatic not of physical disorder but of underlying spiritual inadequacy and failure to understand one’s true spiritual nature.13

Of course, like all ‘heresies’, there are profound elements of truth in such a conceptualisation. The problem arises when an aspect of Gospel truth is emphasised in a disproportionate way in relation to all other truths.  Battin’s book also deals with other cases which would provide examples of ‘superstition’ and (misdirected) ‘enthusiasm’. There is a warning built into all of this. One of the examples quoted (‘The Faith Assembly’) was founded by Hobart Freeman, a former faculty member at a “fundamentalist (Southern Baptist) theological seminary”, dismissed for “failing to conform to its beliefs”.14 (Interestingly, Hobart Freeman also receives ‘mention’ in: Ronald M. Enroth’s book: Churches that Abuse.)15 Such developments are not a million miles away from the origins of many Pentecostal movements.

          Am I wandering from the topic? I believe not, because in arguing that ‘pastoral theology’ is a necessary part of Christian life, I am suggesting that it is in the practice of theology that theological enquiry is validated. Part of this ‘validation’ is an integrity that incorporates both mind, experience and Godly order—dare I say, ‘Godly purpose’?—for His people.  It is when any of the three aspects suggested gets out of proportion or perspective that we find ourselves in trouble. Ronald Enroth suggests one generic example:

A central theme of this book is that spiritual abuse can take place in the context of doctrinally sound, Bible preaching, fundamental, conservative Christianity. All that is needed for abuse is a pastor accountable to no one and therefore beyond confrontation.16

This is a fascinating area that deserves more than the brief reference that I have made in this paper, but enough to highlight the need for balance and integration in living out our Christian lives. It is good that Pentecostal and Charismatic Christians believe in the gift of discernment!

          A more contemporary theologian, already mentioned in this paper, is Stephen Pickard. In his paper ‘Theology as a Transformative Discipline’, Pickard addresses the tension between ‘transformation’ and ‘education’,17 and he despairs of the “poverty of experience” among many who study theology let alone study for ministry training.18 Earlier, in that article, Pickard notes the following:

..theology is a transformative discipline in so far as it fosters an active indwelling in the world with God. Good theology makes for the flourishing of that indwelling in the reality to which faith bears witness. Such theology is not simply about God but towards God.19

Pickard then moves from an example taken from St Augustine’s Confessions to a more contemporary observation in relation to the practical outworking of theology in a more contemporary context.

          The growth of the internet has provided fertile ground for experimentation and conjecture about the relationship between the grounded and the ungrounded, the virtual and the ‘real’, the practical and the theoretical.  One fascinating element has been the growth of Internet sites that record claims of extraordinary miracles as a sign of the ‘revival’ that is ‘sweeping the world’.  In at least one instance it was found that many of the extraordinary claims of miracles that were being fed to this site did not measure up to reality.  The originators had enough integrity to admit the problem and close the site. But it does highlight the issue that is at hand, for without a real integration, there can too easily be a tendency for the practical not always to be grounded in reality. At times, this not only denigrates the place of the practical, but also denigrates the Gospel itself.  In the ungrounded virtuality of the Web, the hopes of doing ‘practical ministry’ are often frustrated.

          Within the above context, I have been (and continue to be) an advocate of the findings of the ‘church growth’ methodology and have actually experienced a church that grew through applying those insights. However, it sometimes concerns me that there is a tendency to say that large is always good and must be a sign of God’s blessing. Just because something ‘works’ is not in itself a guarantee that it is from God. There must be a means of assessing that which is seen and experienced against solid theological knowledge.20 It is here that Pastoral Theology has something to contribute.

          I once came upon what struck me as a positive example of integration from a somewhat surprising source. During the seeming never ending flow of press reports of the ‘scandals’ revolving around (the then) President Bill Clinton, there  was an article in an edition of The Australian newspaper.21 The article was entitled: “Why Hillary can keep the faith” and included some insights from Mrs Clinton’s former Methodist youth pastor—the Rev. Don Jones.  Jones said this:

I also think that in speculating about how she is surviving, we should not discount her spiritual life. She is deeply spiritual, although she doesn’t wear it on her sleeve. One of the resources of her faith is her capacity for forgiveness and, speaking theologically, there is a kind of penitential process going on with Bill in the faith of Hillary, who is also in the process of forgiving him.22

History may want to reassess that perception, but it was a great insight into the practical application of integration between faith (theory?) and practice.

          In his book on Renewal Theology, J. Rodman Williams highlights the dilemma that I describe. In his discussion on the meaning and place of theology, Williams begins by dividing theology into its four traditional formats: ‘systematic’; biblical’; ‘historical’; and ‘practical’. He even goes on to specifically define ‘practical theology’ as  “the way Christian faith is practiced: through preaching, teaching, counseling, and the like”.23  Williams seems to be reaching for the basis of my present thesis when he moves on to a fuller discussion of the ‘Function of Theology’. “Theology has a number of functions. Among these are clarification, integration, correction, declaration, and challenge.”24 Further, within the context of ‘clarification’, he says:

Often there is lack of understanding in various doctrinal areas. Participation in Christian experience is, of course, the primary thing, but this does not automatically bring about full understanding. Much further instruction is needed in order that increasing clarification of truth may occur.

Williams then proceeds to discuss “The Method of Doing Theology” by looking to the place of the guidance of the Holy Spirit, reliance on Scripture and the need for familiarity with church history. I was encouraged to see references to the patristic writings, the ecumenical councils (the creeds etc.), an awareness of the contemporary scene, and growth in Christian experience.

          A further insight into this whole issue from the writing of Eugene Peterson, past Professor at Regent College, Vancouver, Canada. “Pastoral work”, says Peterson:

takes Dame religion by the hand and drags her into the everyday world, introducing her to friends, neighbours and associates. Religion left to herself is shy, retiring, and private; or else she is decorative and proud—a prima donna. But she is not personal and she is not ordinary. The pastor insists on taking her where she must mix with the crowd.

When pastoral work is slighted, religion tends, among some, to become gaudy with ceremonial , among others to get cubby-holed as a private emotion. In either case she still does many things well: her theology can be profound, her meditations mystic, her moral counsels wise, her liturgies splendid. But until she is dragged into the common round she is not alone with Good News nor does she have a chance to put her ideas and beliefs to use, testing them out in actual life-situations.

Pastoral work is that aspect of Christian ministry which specialises in the ordinary. It is the pragmatic application of religion in the present.

He goes on to exalt the work of such modern scholars as Karl Barth and C.H.Dodd, among others:

...No generation in the church’s history has been so blessed with as devout and biblical a scholarship. But when I get up on Monday to face a week of parish routine I am handed books by Sigmund Freud and Abraham Maslow (etc.). The pulpit is grounded in the prophetic and kerygmatic traditions but the church office is organised around IBM machines.25

It is helpful to look at Peterson’s context. In a world that seeks affirmation in terms of success, Peterson adds notes of realism about what it is really like ‘at the coal-face’—because the triumph of the Resurrection came out of the agony of the Cross. Yes, I do teach ‘Church Growth’ and, yes, I do admire the Pentecostal ‘distinctive’ that would emphasise the victory—the triumphalism of being in Jesus. But in the world of reality, I like to alert future pastors that there will be times when they will struggle with their prayer life, there will be times when any other job seems more appealing, and, like Jesus, there will be times when we are rejected.26

          In Five Smooth Stones, Peterson, takes us on a journey that is a living example of the need to integrate theology and practice. In his own unique way he traces the parallels of biblical ‘story’ with our ‘experiences’ of life—along the lines of a major aspect of his teaching that we must always read Scripture with a sense of ‘the big picture’. In other words, Peterson asks of the text, ‘where do I fit in here’, or ‘what is this saying to me’ and then proceeds to discuss aspects of practical theology: the work of prayer; the work of ‘story-making’; and the work of ‘pain-sharing’. This is a classic demonstration of the integration of theology and practice—outside of Scripture and eternal truth, we can never even begin to understand God’s purposes in our lives and in the lives of those to whom we minister. So if Peterson is wittingly or unwittingly taking a bit of a ‘swipe’ at triumphalism, he would also be issuing a warning to those who see all our hope residing in ‘preaching’—let alone judging success in terms of numbers:

 Salvation sola fide may be preached faithfully from the pulpit, but during the week a hustling, anxious, frenetic spirit insinuates itself into the routines and vitiates the message… The plain biblical fact is that it makes no difference whether a community of faith numbers thirty-seven (if that is where they find themselves) or the thirty-seven hundred (if that be the place) by leading in prayers, preaching God’s word, and administering abilities and aptitudes of the Spirit so that ministry may take place.27

It may well be argued why people come to church—and ‘Church Growth’ studies have plenty to say about that—be it miracles, preaching, or whatever, but for all that, the integration of theology and practice is summed up by Peterson who says:

…Theology is indispensable for understanding God’s community and… sociology is not… The actual reason that they (the people) assemble together is that God calls them.28

And I think that that means that we can have all the theology, all the biblical knowledge, all the miracles and all the sophistication and latest technology—but if we forget that the church is God’s gathered, God’s called people, then we ‘miss the plot’.

          It has been an encouragement to recognise that much of the discussion and debate about integrating theology and practice at ‘grass roots’ level is happening within the very pragmatic Pentecostal world. It may well be argued that Pentecostal and Charismatic churches are the most likely to give validity  to the integration that is the theme of this paper. At least, it is the hope of this paper that others within the Pentecostal and Charismatic worlds will produce more work of this nature at a more academic/theological level. It is a further encouragement that the ethos of the institution that I work in (Southern Cross College) is seeking to bring about an excellence in both the theory and practice of theology.29

          Such a discussion would not be complete without some reference to Jurgen Moltmann’s “Pentecostal Theology of Life”,30  a deliberate attempt to address Pentecostalism from within a mainline theological tradition.  Moltmann’s article speaks directly to the integration of theory and practice within the context of a need for Christians to express ‘a theology of life’. He sees a growing trend on various fronts that demonstrate this integration.31  Thus he says:

I am concerned with the apathetic, meaningless lives of people in the first world. The theological commitment that comes with the experience of Pentecost should make possible an integrated theology of life.32

Moltmann urges a true application of theology:

For this reason, this message of life is also the declaration of comfort for the sorrowful, the healing of the sick, the acceptance of strangers, and the forgiveness of sins, as well as the deliverance of the lives threatened and injured from the powers of ruin.33

These are words that should not only make the Pentecostal heart thrill, but should thrill all of Christendom! And all of this, Moltmann lays on the solid theological base of: ‘the illuminated face of God’ (that is His turning towards us, His alert attentiveness; and His special presence); ‘the cross and the resurrection of Christ’; and, ‘the crucified Christ and the sending of the Spirit from the Father'’. It’s really riveting stuff—especially when we see the wonder of theology—theory and practice—providing the only real integrated whole that can ever be meaningful for a Christian person. In that article, Moltmann sees further implications which would provide the basis for perhaps livelier conversation than our present context allows.

          In a book that ‘did the rounds’ of our faculty at one time, there was another reference to the complete integration of theological practice and theory. Steven J. Land’s book Pentecostal Spirituality34 sets out to describe the variance in Pentecostal spiritualities, but in the process, speaks of ‘the apocalyptic’ as the integration of ‘beliefs’ and ‘practices’. The “story of redemption in the Spirit”, he notes:

made sense of the ‘ups and downs’ of the daily life of the participants. In the Spirit they walked with the children of Israel, the prophets, the apostles and early church believers. In the Spirit they anticipated the great marriage supper of the Lamb at the last day. In the Spirit the blessings and trials of each day were interpreted as part of the one story of redemption. Thus, by interpreting their daily life and worship in terms of the significant events of biblical history, their own lives and actions were given significance. Everybody became a witness to Calvary and his or her own crucifixion with Christ, the biblical Pentecost and a personal Pentecost, the healings of the disciples and his or her own healing and so on.

This is amazing stuff—I almost feel like apologising that one should even have to argue the case. To even question whether ‘pastoral theology’ is an oxymoron is to verge on the ‘ungodly’! To have practice without theology is a nonsense and to have theology without practice is also a nonsense. It also reaffirms the conviction of people such as Eugene Peterson who teaches of the need to see ourselves in ‘the big picture’ of Scripture which is the history of God’s people—to see ourselves as part of an integrated whole.

          When placed alongside the earlier mentioned ‘ecumenical’ aspect of Pentecostalism,35 this may all appear to be a very broad sweep in relation to the integration of theory and practice. I wish now to return to this ecumenical aspect once more. It seems to me that there is a far greater depth and breadth to Pentecostal theology than is often recognised by others—indeed, it is too often not recognised by Pentecostals themselves. It is of interest that some church groups or groupings have claimed the ‘high ground’ when experience shows it to be otherwise. In recent times, the Pentecostal churches have been taking much of the initiative in local church pastors’ fellowship groups. This is part of a growing tide of not only reclaiming territory in which the Pentecostal churches have something to say to other churches but which is every bit as much their rightful inheritance as any other church. During the late 1970s and early 1980s there was much discussion between those in the evangelical world who believed that ‘proclamation of the Word’ was all that was necessary. All this stood in stark contrast to those within the evangelical world who believed that there was need for more positive social action.36 The ultimate outcome was the formation of such organisations as the ‘TEAR Fund’. Historically, the division can be understood in light of the more ‘liberal’ people of the church who believed in a more ‘presence’ type evangelism—that the Gospel was proclaimed by ‘a cup of water to the thirsty’. What has not been recognised is that these two apparent conflicting issues have not been apparent in the Pentecostal world which seems from its very roots to have had both a spiritual and physical concern for the lost. In the same vein, I note with concern the obvious lack of opportunity given to the Pentecostal church to comment on current affairs or be involved in ‘national’ church services at such times as national crises.

          That said, I would here like to make a ‘sweeping generalisation’. In most of the popular ministry type journals, most of the practice of ministry is not grounded in a theological context—thus Peterson’s observation concerning ‘IBM machines’, and the influence on counselling and organisational matters of Freud, Maslow et. al.. Now, let me say, at this point, I do not believe that these things in themselves are wrong—we have much to learn from these and other insights into our daily life. The concern is that once more we are confronted with a very real separation between theology and practice. Thus, when counselling, it is helpful to have the help of great counselling literature, and the insights of giant minds. Where we get it wrong is when we do not seek to integrate these insights into what we know of God and his purpose for us.

          In my classes I am most likely to mention the work of Professor Arch. Hart—one time professor of psychology at Fuller Seminary. What I love about Arch Hart’s teaching is that he believes that the counselling process is never completed until the client is led to Jesus—is that some ‘godless’ secular teaching? Now, to that I also wish to suggest that the Pentecostal church has a great opportunity in that it, more than most other churches, believes in the reality of the gifts of the Spirit being available to the church today. I do not need to remind the people here, that the early church’s success was through the complete integration of theology and practice—signs and wonders went ‘hand in hand’ with the preaching of the Gospel and the conversion of many.37

          These things do not happen in a vacuum and there is a need to ensure that all we do is grounded in right belief—dare I say in ‘right theology’? It is not only easy for the practitioner to be caught up in the heady world of secular humanism, it is also easy to be caught up in the world of personal power. So, how does a person maintain the balance? I have already referred to the work of J. Rodman Williams who has written a significant series on Pentecostal / Charismatic theology (he calls it ‘renewal theology’) and he achieves one very important purpose in his writings, and that is to continually relate his writing to both personal and biblical experience. Rodman Williams would therefore remind us that we will lose our sense of balance if we fail to constantly seek to know God’s will in any matter. He would also suggest Christians must be constant in prayer, in hearing the words of Scripture, in being open to the help of other believers and finally to “have a personal ongoing renewal of the mind”.38

          So what are we to do? It seems to me that the danger of separating theology and practice comes so easily. A recent conversation with a well-recognised Australian theologian highlighted the very issue that we are discussing. He said that there was far too much dishonesty in the church and that it will have to catch up at some time. Dishonesty? Catching up? What on earth was he saying? Well, he was addressing the issue of how easy it is to get so caught up with the ‘game’ of ministry that pastors forget what they have been taught—that ministry is not just about finding the right formula to get more people along to church (even to raise a budget! and feed the pastor’s household). This is evident in the growing tendency in many denominations to see ministry as a ‘profession’ rather than a ‘vocation’. And that is where I think we get ourselves into trouble because we can become so caught up in being a success that we will fall into a trap that says: ‘If it works, do it’. I have hinted at a need to address the need to consider a ‘theology of suffering’ alongside a ‘theology of triumph’—a need to theologically consider all that we do.

What do seminaries train people for?

One of the ‘bad’ habits that I have developed over the years is to cast an (interested) look over pastors’ bookshelves. Sadly, too often they are filled with three categories of books: there are those that were on the reading list of their seminary curriculum; there are those bought over the years with bookmarks variously positioned anywhere from p.2 to half  way through; and the final group—sometimes also with similar bookmarks or none—books that have graced recent Christian bookshop ‘sale’ catalogues. In other words, I am suggesting that theology and practice become almost contradictory terms, because we seem to either spend our time reading theology (seminary) or ‘doing’ theology (pastoral practice) with (too commonly) little current reading or ‘updating’ in depth. Again, a good argument for pastors to enrol in a degree conversion or other post-graduate study. Thus, by default, the term ‘pastoral theology’ becomes ‘oxymoronic’ (if you will excuse such a word). I sensed there is a similar frustration being expressed by Robert Johnston professor of theology and culture at Fuller Seminary in America who refers to the work of David Kelsey:

[in theological education] “Truth” (Bible) is explicated; it is then organised systematically (theology); clarified and understood from out of the past (history); and then applied to today (practice). But in reality, there is in our contemporary curricula less than a course of study like the above than a clutch of courses. What we find, says Kelsey, is a movement from theory to practice which lacks integration—from “information about pure theory, ‘academic systematic theology’ to information about applied theory, ‘academic practical theology’ (chiefly counseling theory and church growth theory), to skills training; from science to technology to practitioner.39

Let me turn once again to Eugene Peterson, who contrasts the idea of ‘running a church’ to that of ‘the cure of souls’ (an old terminology that is understood by Anglicans and Presbyterians). What on earth does he mean? When my middle child was in infants school, the teacher was bemused because when asked what he wanted to do when he grew up, he did not want to ‘drive a tractor’ or ‘fish’ (we were living in a coastal town that was a fishing port, but also was inhabited by many tractors as the town was being fitted out for a sewerage system). No, Michael never wanted that, he “wanted to be a priesta and do what priestas do”(sic).40 Well, the ‘cure of souls’ is what ‘pastors do’.  Anyway, this is what Peterson says:

By contrast, the cure of souls is cultivated awareness that God has already seized the initiative…He gets things going. He had and continues to have the first word… God had been working diligently, redemptively, and strategically before I appeared on the scene, before I was aware there was something here for me to do.41 

That’s what I call an integration of theology and practice. That’s where I believe that we can say: “No, ‘pastoral theology’ is not an oxymoron”.

Notes


1.             Harvey G. Cox, Jr. ‘Some Personal Reflections on Pentecostalism’, Pneuma, Spring, 1993.Volume 15:1, 29-34.

2.             Cox, "Some Personal Reflections’, p. 29.

3.             Cox, "Some Personal Reflections’, p. 33.

4.             I recognise that from a Biblical scholar’s perspective, that this is a very simplistic generalisation!

5.             The often quoted interaction between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:7ff) highlights the fact that the pastoral response preceded the disciplinary response.

6.             All Biblical quotations are from the Revised Standard Version.

7.             Gordon Fee says that “Speech, wisdom, and knowledge, of course, are part of the problem in this [the Corinthian] church” God’s Empowering Presence, Hendrickson Publishers Inc. Massachusetts, 1994  p.160:—which would appear to allow the wider interpretation than the immediate context of worship and foreign idols.

8.             The normal rule is that teaching staff must hold a research degree at least one level above that which is being taught. Thus, to teach at primary degree level, it would be considered that the ‘norm’ would be a post-graduate research degree of Masters level or above.

9.             St Mark’s School of Theology is the School of Theology of Charles Sturt University in New South Wales, Australia. St Mark’s offers degrees at all levels and also provides ministry training for both Anglican and other denominations.

10.         Margaret P. Battin, Ethics in the Sanctuary, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990.

11.         Preface to: John Henry Newman, The Via Media of The Anglican Church, Volume 1 (3rd Edition), London: Basil Montagu Pickering, 1877, p.xli.

12.         These were very real issues for the former evangelical, Newman, watching as he was his church grind its way towards the Charybdis of Vatican I, having escaped the Scylla of modernism.  Lord Acton, who penned the famous dictum, ‘power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely’, was a witness to the reactionary moves of the Council, as was Ronald Knox, who wrote the famous treatise on Enthusiasm.

13.         Battin, Ethics in the Sanctuary.  It is worth noting, that the author wishes to emphasise that the book “is not a critique of religious belief”, (Introduction, p. 17).

14.         Battin, Ethics in the Sanctuary, p. 81.

15.         Ronald M. Enroth,  Churches that Abuse, Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, 1992, p.169f.

16.         Enroth, Churches that Abuse, p. 189.

17.         I acknowledge that this is a very brief simplification of the thrust of his paper.

18.         S. Pickard: “Theology as a Transformational Discipline: A Personal Account”, Colloquium, 28/2, 1996, p.103.

19.         Pickard: “Theology as a Transformational Discipline”, p. 103.

20.         I have searched the Net for the reference to a ‘defence’ of smaller churches—if my memory serves me there was a ‘theological’ book of the same title as the economist E. F. Schumacher’s book: Small is Beautiful (recently reprinted: New York: HarperCollins, 1989).

21.         Australian, 19 September, 1998.

22.         Australian, 19 September, 1998, p.27.

23.         J. Rodman Williams, Renewal Theology (Vol. 1), Grand Rapids, MI: Academie Books, Zondervan Publishing House, 1988, p. 17.

24.         Williams, Renewal Theology, I,  p. 19ff.

25.         Eugene H. Peterson,  Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work, Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publ. Co, 1980, (1992) edition, pp. 1, 4.

26.         Matthew 5: 11:  “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account”.

27.         Peterson,  Five Smooth Stones.

28.         Peterson,  Five Smooth Stones, p. 234.

29.         The college ‘motto’ is helpful: “Sharp minds, hot hearts and Holy hands”.

30.        J. Moltmann (trans. F.D.Macchia), “A Pentecostal Theology of Life”, Journal of Pentecostal Theology, Issue 9, 1996, p. 11.

31.        Pope John Paul II’s Encyclical: Evangeliium Vitae (March 30, 1995) addressed the concept of  a ‘theology of life’ as cf. ‘a theology of death’. See also The Commission of Unity III of the Ecumenical Council of Churches in Larnaca in 1993, and Gustavo Gutierrez’ book, El Dios de la Vida in 1982; and Moltmann’s own book, The Spirit of Life (1991). The Korean theologian Chung, Hyung Kyung spoke at the WCC in Canberra 1991 on a ‘theology of solidarity’ built out of a ‘theology of life’.

32.         Moltmann, “A Pentecostal Theology of Life”, p. 11

33.        Ibid. p.12

34.        Stephen J. Land, Pentecostal Spirituality—A Passion for the Kingdom, Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994.

35.        See above.

36.        See, for instance, Alister McGrath, Evangelicalism and the Future of Christianity, Downer’s Grove, IL: Intervarsity, 1995.

37.        A recent paper by our college President (David Cartledge) concentrates on his desire to see a more ‘Pneumatic’—Holy Spirit—basis of counselling that recognises and uses the gifts of the Spirit as a vital part of the counselling process—gives some excellent practical examples of words of knowledge leading to some miraculous healings in the area of emotional difficulties.

38.         Williams, Renewal Theology, 2, p. 415ff.

39.         Robert K. Johnston, “Reclaiming Theology for the Church” in  Theology, News & Notes, Fuller Theological Seminary Alumni/ae. October, 1993,  40, 3.

40.         He has in fact studied theology and is now one of the most highly qualified theologians in the IT world in which he works!

41.         Eugene Peterson, The Contemplative Pastor, Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publ. Co., 1989 /1993, p. 60.