Having just read Jesus Have I Loved, but Paul?, a reader emailed to ask what, exactly, this narrative theology is that I’m on about in the book. Is there a go-to definition or description? The book embodies it, but what is this “it” we are beholding?
In short, narrative or storied theology is a way to talk about God proceeds on the premise that the Story is the thing.
Learning the story of God as a story, articulating the various aspects as parts of a dynamic movement that not only passes through time but genuinely develops and changes as it does so, narrative theology never seeks to leave the story behind to get on to the real business of theology or ethics. The church’s theology is the narrative, and its ethics is the telling of that story in the words and deeds of Christian communities.
Narrative Theology is (un)Like Biblical Theology that Preceded It.
Like the biblical theology movement that finds description in the likes of Geerhardus Vos and Reformed theology more generally, it strives to do justice to the interconnections between what we are told about God, God’s promises, and God’s people in the OT, and what we are told about them in the New.
However, unlike the work of some of the older Reformed Biblical theologians, narrative theology reads the story as a history of God’s action, not merely a history of revelation. In the latter, as it is defined within this world, there is a truth about God that is progressively revealed through time–much as though it existed in a heavenly cache, only to be distributed a bit at a time over the course of history.
Narrative theology, instead, recognizes change in the people’s expectations and even in the nature of the fulfillment of God’s promises. We cannot read the Bible from Genesis through Malachi and be prepared for the surprises of Matthew through Revelation.
Narrative theology is more dynamic, allowing room for dead-ends to certain OT roads, and a radical revision of our understanding of God and salvation in light of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus–even within the same story that is the story of Israel.
Such a move toward seeing surprise is not absent in the Reformed Tradition, and is captured quite well at several moments in Herman Ridderbos’ Paul. But in general, I see it as a movement beyond Vos, and ultimately untenable metaphors such as the idea that the story develops “from acorn to oak tree.”
Going back further, Narrative Theology also stands over against the notion of biblical theology enshrined in Gabler‘s famous “On the Correct Distinction Between Dogmatic and Biblical Theology and the Right Definition of Their Goals.”
Gabler suggested that the job of biblical studies was to distill the truths from the Bible, to be handed over to the systematicians for proper and logical ordering. Such a vision holds onto what Narrative Theology will always deem a mistake: thinking that “systematic theology” is the real thing, whereas biblical theology is a road on the way to theology’s completion.
Narrative theology grows from the soil prepared by biblical theology, or perhaps it is a branch off the same tree, but it embodies a commitment to the narrative that older concerns with the enduring primacy of systematic (or, if you prefer, analytic) theology in the life of the church did not allow.
In future posts I’ll talk about narrative theology in relationship to systematic theology and to ethics.
As a young pastor with most of my theological training still in my future I found this to be fruitful read. Perhaps the simplification of simply understanding the Gospel as the narrative that it is would take so much of the pressure off of believers today when it comes to “knowing enough” to feel confident and comfortable.
Not sure if that makes sense, but it popped in my head as I read!
Much Grace!
Daniel, have you read or are you aware of Francesca Murphy’s critique of narrative theologies, “God Is Not A Story”? Its primarily aimed at Robert Jensen, who is coming with, I think, a different set of concerns than you are, but I’d be interested in your response. And hey, its only $115 in Kindle edition!
http://www.amazon.com/God-Not-Story-Realism-Revisited/dp/0199219281/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330105257&sr=8-1
I’ve heard of it but not read it. Probably need to–especially as I’ve been encouraged by many that I should read, and would deeply appreciate, Jensen!
Daniel, I think there is a fundamental reason why more people cannot truly appreciate “storied” theology. For the Jewish people, God’s story was as much theirs as it was His. The Gentiles, as a people, are outside the story for the most part. We’re simply told to “believe the story”. The Jews, however feel and think of the story in a much more “organic” way. They don’t see their destiny apart from God’s destiny. How much can we truly value a story in which we had no part, except to believe it truly happened to (S)someone else? This is a dilemma the present day church is far too timid to address. What are your thoughts?
I’m not sure, Azion. I think that most Christians read the whole story as their story, even when they’re eliminating parts of it as not belonging to them.
For instance, evangelicals who read the story of Jacob and apply it to their lives are very much attempting to own the story as their own. Not sure that the typical ways of pursuing application are the way I’d want to go, but it is an instance of ownership.
On the other hand, perhaps this particular way of owning the story does allow for a “their story” sort of mentality that is “applied to me.”
Paul had a much different understanding, didn’t he, when he addressed the Gentile Corinthians as siblings, and said, “Our fathers were all baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea…” “Our”–yours and mine, Gentile siblings!
Daniel, I think you’re absolutely right about how most christians read the story. They pick, choose, appropriate and “eliminate parts of it as not belonging to them.” This is my point–if you can eliminate or disregard any part, then it’s not really your story. How can I eliminate any part of a lived life? The story of who I am has good and bad times, ups and downs, events that make sense and some that still don’t. I may wish I could, but I can’t eliminate the parts I don’t like or understand. However, all of these times and events have gone into making me who I have become. It is intrinsically who I am. In order to fully understand the story of Jacob wrestling with God, it must also be my story. I must have a time where I have wrestled–with God–with man in such an all consuming manner. Then, I too can know the transformation that comes from such an encounter. Only in that way can I truly understand the meaning of Jacob’s story– because it is also my own. Merely reading the story and trying to extract something from it leaves one with an “inorganic” understanding. This is the point from which we can begin to decipher the gospel. Do you see what I’m saying?
Perhaps… Maybe this would help me: how would you say that the laws of sacrifice in Leviticus are your story?
Daniel, technical exactness is not my goal. That would simply be copying, which accounts for nothing. My concern is for a more “essential” connection which demands my response in order to give a brand new “presentness” to the story. This is similar to what I spoke concerning creation,(not ex nihilo but perfecting what is already there and giving it meaning). I need the story to “hear” God’s address to me. But true revelation always requires a response. The story makes it’s demand upon me to complete the real “essential” meaning with my life. Concerning Leviticus, it is simple. Sacrifice is the essential bond between God and man. Not just once and for all, but as a continuous lively reality. Not just from God, through His Son, but from us as well. Gen.thru Rev. is the narrative of how a loving sacrifice has been worked out between God and man. Eph.5:1-2. Personally, I am far more familiar with sacrifice than I am with theology. Some by my choice and some imposed. This is why Paul resonates with me in Phil.3 and this is how the laws of sacrifice in Lev. have become my story.
Azion,
I think your spot on when you say that the reason more people can’t appreciate storied theology is because they have trouble valuing a story in which they don’t see an immediate connection to themselves. My suspicion (although I could certainly be wrong) is that one of the primary reasons for this is Western (American?) self-absorption. Unfortunately, many people can only value something if they can see an instant, concrete application to themselves. I suspect that part of the resistance to storied theology is that it takes the focus off the reader and puts it on God. That feels foreign to a lot of people.
I also agree that the church has been too “timid” (loved your use of that word) in addressing this.
Leslie, thanks so much for your comment. I have a question. Are you saying our focus is to be completely off ourselves and upon God?
Azion,
When I read the Bible, I read it as God’ story, which makes the God the main character. I read everything from Genesis to Revelation not to see where I fit, but to see what God has done, is doing, and will do to bring us in relationship with Him.
I’m not saying that we, as individuals, don’t have a part to play in God’s story, but I don’t need to make it “my story.” My view of scripture may differ from yours in that I do not need to see my own struggles in the OT stories in order to understand them. I am content (and thrilled) to discover what God has already done to carry out his plan of redemption.
I’m not saying that I have all the answers (and I claim the four magic words of reasonable debate: “I could be wrong”
, but one of the things that narrative theology has helped me let go of is the need to make every event in the story something that I must, in an existential sense, participate in.
Leslie, I assure you, I feel no “need to make every event in the story something I must, in an existential sense, participate in”. I agree with you wholeheartedly. That would be quite obsessive wouldn’t it? My point is that I am thrilled to find my life intersecting with the fathers in the O.T. as well as other godly men or women. It affirms that I am part of a salvation bigger than just my own. That deeply affects how I approach the world everyday. What I am really aiming at however, is the gospel, not simply the O.T. When I read the story of Jesus, I cannot merely do so in an objective manner. I must decide whether or not I am willing to participate in the Christ event, or simply study it and extract what I want or need from it. I can truly say the source of my greatest struggles and most profound joy have come through realizing my part in the Christ event. Men and women of faith throughout history have had to make sense for themselves the meaning of “Deny yourself, pick up your cross” and “I am co-crucified with Christ”. I cannot say what it means for you, but I can say what it means for me and do so from my life.
Azion: Just reading in Romans 15 this morning these words: ” For I tell you that Christ became a servant to the circumcised to show God’s truthfulness, in order to confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy.” Could it be that participation in the gospel, the good news that God hasn’t abandoned his creation, is as simple as receiving the God’s mercy? Isn’t participation in this as simple as heeding the call to follow? I’m no theologian, but it seems straightforward enough to me. Jesus calls, you follow, you’re now part of the story. No need to have any biological relation to a Jew to be an adopted child of King Jesus. Or am I missing the point?
I agree. Jesus calls, we follow, we’re now part of the story. It’s just that simple. However, it will take the rest of our lives to truly understand what it means to follow a “crucified One”. “The grace of God is free but it isn’t cheap. It will cost a man his life.” (Bonhoeffer).
Hi Daniel,
Good thoughts, esp. your careful distinction between narrative theology and what Vos is doing.
I like this:
“Narrative theology, instead, recognizes change in the people’s expectations and even in the nature of the fulfillment of God’s promises.”
But I have a problem with this:
“We cannot read the Bible from Genesis through Malachi and be prepared for the surprises of Matthew through Revelation.”
Didn’t you just lapse out of the narrative back into the real world? To be sure, there is a distinction between Old Covenant and New Covenant; but why are you making a radical and arbitrary break in your narrative? (using your logic, I could make the argument that “nothing in Leviticus prepares you for the surprises of Ezekiel”
Also, it seems to me that if you are doing narrative theology properly, the text is BOTH “preparing” AND “surprising” the reader.
Michael, you ask a great question. I want to deal with it in a bit more detail in a subsequent post, maybe tomorrow. It is the narrative conviction that enables me to say both, and not to downplay the discontinuity that makes Jesus so hard for his contemporaries to get their minds around.
Yes, there’s continuity to, but the end causes the beginning to be reread and thus transformed.
Daniel,
This is really helpful.
I’ve always been suspicious of systematic theology (for reasons I won’t go into here), and was relieved when biblical theology became an option. With narrative theology, I’ve think I’ve finally found a way of reading the Bible that makes sense theologically, logically, and experientially.
I write and blog about the power of narrative and narrative theology quite a bit, but have been worried that I wasn’t using the term correctly. Thanks for the little “mini-course.” I look forward to the rest.
I’m looking forward to reading your take on the distinction between biblical theology and narrative theology.
Grace and Peace,
K. Rex Butts
Narrative theology is not merely another way of “presenting the information” to get the same desired response from, say, some other way of reading scripture. The book of Genesis, for example, is not “information” intended for our acceptance or rejection; nor is it “information” on which we will be tested at the judgment. IN ITS HEARING, the narrative of Genesis defines us, shapes us, drives us, motivates us, molds us and creates the world in which we live. The narrative of scripture storifies US.
Good thoughts, Joey.
I’m reading your JHILBP. Very useful. Best paragraph so far is page 50, “The story of salvation as Paul tells it…” Actually, I love everything on pages 50-52. If only we could truly see ourselves as the Body. If only we could see what it MEANS that we are now the embodiment of the Story.
Thanks much, Joey!