Certainly Not: Part Two

So basically, the idea so far is that the imperfect aspect of our humanity demands that we are wrong in some area of our theology. The problem is, we don't know what those areas are, and we'll never reach a perfectly tuned theology. I'm assuming that you're with me up to this point, the area in which we might diverge is in how to respond to this quite troubling realization of our fallible humanity. How should we respond?

There are four (probably more) ways to respond to our "theological fallibility"...

1. Uncertainty
2. Humility
3. Openness
4. Conversation

First, let's look at uncertainty. This response is a glass-half-empty, pessimistic theology. Uncertainty avoids making propositional truth claims (especially metanarratives), and can never fully define with certainty the finer (even essential) points of it's theology. Uncertainty doesn't like an ABC ducks-in-a-row theology, and is skeptical of any matter-of-fact theologian. Uncertainty revels in the mystery of God, and doesn't like to put Him in a box, no matter how over-sized. This type of person openly admits to not having everything figured out - and is perfectly content to keep it that way.

I think this response - blanket uncertainty - fails in it's inability to differentiate between black, gray, and white. For example, I KNOW my wife's name is Emily. I KNOW she's 4' 11''. I KNOW she is an interpreter, and I KNOW that she is (at this moment) sleeping soundly in another part of the house. What may not be as tangible is her love for me, respect of me, and loyalty to me. I know these latter things are true, I just know experientially as opposed to intellectually.

What's interesting to me is that the most certain things in life (e.g. that wall is blue) are the most inconsequential. It is the not-as-certain things which carry the most weight (e.g. does my wife really love me?). But I digress, the point is that there are some things which we can be certain about, and then there are other things which require a bit more caution (duh). Thus, blanket uncertainty is like pulling out a rocket launcher during a rubber band fight - slight over-reaction.
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Part Three will take a look at some other ways to respond to this "theological fallibility" dilemma.

Certainly Not: Part One

I would assume, and I think this is a safe assumption, that if you asked a crowd of about 300 people to raise their hand if they thought something they believed was false - no hands would go up. Nobody thinks something they believe is wrong, otherwise - they wouldn't believe it.

However, if you asked that same group of 300 people to raise their hand if they thought they were perfect, again, not a single hand would go up. So, how do we reconcile these two commonly accepted truths, 1) we aren't perfect AND 2) as far as we know, we don't believe anything that is wrong?

The implication is this: Though I can't pinpoint it exactly, my humanity dictates that I must be categorically wrong in some area or another of my theology/belief system.

When I was a data entry clerk, I entered thousands and thousands of keystrokes into a computer. Common sense tells me that, though I didn't know it at the time, I MUST have made a few mistakes while typing. It's like that with our theology. Our humanity guarantees that we've made a mistake, we just don't know where.

Maybe our source was wrong, maybe we aren't coming at it from the right perspective, maybe we've misinterpreted a passage, maybe their is a textual variant, maybe our presuppositions are getting in the way, maybe we're thinking with wrong categories, maybe there is still more information to be discovered, maybe, maybe, maybe. How are we supposed to build a theology on a bunch of "maybes"?
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Part two of this series will look at four possible responses to this dilemma - Uncertainty, Humility, Openness, and Conversation