Showing posts with label Balance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Balance. Show all posts

Thursday, December 16, 2021

The Day I Discovered an African American Theologian

"Plain Theology for Plain People" by Charles Octavius Boothe

By Walter R. Strickland II

March 7, 2018  

History is recounted by the wealthy and powerful. Throughout America’s history of racism, slavery and segregation prohibited blacks from being protagonists in the Christian narrative. For example, there is often mention of Jonathan Edwards and John Frame in the American Christian story, but rarely an acknowledgment of John Chavis or John Jasper. In general, the American Christian story told in most evangelical college and seminary classrooms include African Americans as marginal characters and only in relation to the dominant culture.

This results in false perceptions of God’s work—namely, that God primarily works through the wealthy and powerful. People assume that the white protagonists have everything to teach and little to learn from those who have been excluded. Learning about historical figures like African-American pastor Charles Octavius Boothe (1845–1924) not only shows God at work outside the dominant culture, but it also exalts Christ as the redeemer of every ethné.

Who Is Charles Octavius Boothe?

Boothe was born on June 13, 1845, in Mobile County, Alabama, as the legal property of Nathaniel Howard. At the age of 3, Boothe learned the alphabet from lettering on a tin plate. At 14, he was sold to attorney James S. Terrel, and he began working as an office boy at a law firm in Clark County, Mississippi.

Mid-19th-century legal practice was rooted in biblical logic, which required young Boothe to explore Scripture on a regular basis. Over time, his exposure to Scripture drew him to salvation. In 1860 he testified that he “reached an experience of grace which so strengthened me as to fix me on the side of God’s people.”

At the conclusion of the Civil War, Boothe’s passion was racial uplift in a society that denied blacks’ humanity before God and the Constitution. At the age of 22, Boothe began teaching for the Freedmen’s Bureau and lecturing regularly at Booker T. Washington’s famed Tuskegee Institute. In the early 1870s, Boothe was a preliminary member of the Colored Baptist Missionary Convention that founded Selma University. He later served as the university’s second president (1901–02). Boothe desired to promote literacy so former slaves could read the Bible for themselves and escape the oppressive interpretative practices that had made the Christian faith a tool of black subservience.

Boothe’s devotion for education notwithstanding, he was, most importantly, a churchman. He established and ministered in two churches: First Colored Baptist Church of Meridian, Mississippi, and Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama. (In recent decades, Dexter Avenue Baptist Church received international attention because of its role in the civil-rights struggle and the leadership of its 20th pastor, Martin Luther King Jr., after whom the church was renamed—King Memorial Baptist Church.)

While in the pastorate, Boothe maintained an itinerant teaching ministry, conducting literacy and theological training for emancipated slaves and their children. He wrote Plain Theology for Plain People as an aid for his theological seminars. Writing with the average sharecropper in mind, Boothe set out to spare others the frustration of traversing the lofty theological rhetoric of other texts. His book provides a definite system of organization while allowing simplicity of language and structure to prevail. It wasn’t until my doctoral studies that I discovered Plain Theology for Plain People.[1]

Boothe’s Significance for Me

My theological education offered me a love for Scripture and a theological framework, but it unintentionally taught me that people of color have little to contribute to theological discussions. I had well-intended white professors who assigned white authors and invited white guest lecturers. In order to become more like my Caucasian professors, I began to squelch everything in me that didn’t correspond to them in order to do “real theology.” I began stripping away my blackness in order to fit the evangelical theological mold. At that time, I only entertained theological inquiry that emerged from culturally white space; I developed a bias against African-American theologians; and I belittled the rich heritage of the black church. I was miserable.

But when I encountered Boothe’s writing, it helped me resist the assumption that whiteness equals faithfulness, and it granted me freedom to be instructed by believers outside of my racial and cultural background without feeling like I needed to lose parts of myself in the process.

Plain Theology for Plain People is significant for my story, and it should influence the evangelical approach to theology.

Boothe for Evangelicalism

Boothe demonstrates that theology can emerge from various contexts. In evangelical circles, however, certain contexts have been given almost exclusive priority. Formal theology has been disproportionately conducted by white men, and their perspective has been standardized. Thus “well-read” evangelicals can gain that label despite never interacting with theologically faithful traditions outside the dominant evangelical culture.

By normalizing a particular context, issues that arise outside of that context are often dismissed as illegitimate. In fact, theological development from non-white contexts are often only deemed “proper” when they engage issues pertinent to white culture and conform to “authorized” conclusions. This explains why issues that disproportionately affect non-white communities—like systemic injustice, racial oppression, economic inequality, and human rights—have received scattered engagement among evangelical theologians and ethicists.

The reality of white cultural dominance in evangelical spaces is consistent with what we know to be true of fallen humanity—we’re self-interested creatures. All people (white and non-white alike) are interested in the issues most pressing to us and aren’t likely to deeply contemplate the circumstances of another. So cultivating diverse church communities is important, since it necessarily expands our concerns beyond our experience.

Reimagining the evangelical tradition to include voices that have been obscured isn’t just good for marginalized Christians—it’s good for all Christians. Theology from every context offers valuable contributions. The mature theologian takes his or her seat at the table of theological discourse and both enriches and is enriched by the exchange. Different perspectives taken together embody a more robust vision of faithfulness and affection for Christ than they could ever manage alone.

PS - "To be clear, this was not the first time that I discovered any African-American theologian, but it was the first time I discovered Boothe."

Source: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/day-i-discovered-african-american-theologian/

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Things I Wish I Could Tell My Younger Self About Calvinism (Or: How to Be Less of A Jerk)

by Stephen Altrogge

Another well-articulated and tastefully conveyed conviction to model myself after.

“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?

Jesus replied:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with
all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second
is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets
hang on these two commandments.” – Matthew 22:34-40

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” – 1 Corinthians 13:2

“When I first understood the Doctrines of Grace (more commonly known as Calvinism and/or Reformed theology), I felt like I had entered The Matrix (minus Keanu Reeves).
It was as if multiple puzzle pieces were clicking into place and a single, unified picture was becoming clear. Things that seemed somewhat confusingly jumbled, like the various covenants, Israel’s rejection of Christ, and weird statements in the book of Romans, suddenly came together, like in a television show when an enlightened detective starts drawing lines between various mug shots and newspaper clippings while heart-thumping music plays in the background.

All this was a big deal to me, and I quickly came to the conclusion that it was my mission from God to convert every person in existence to Calvinism. As you can imagine, this made me quite a pleasant person (insert record scratch noise).

As I’ve gotten older, slightly more godly and slightly less annoying, I’ve come to a few realizations about the place the Doctrines of Grace should hold in my life.
I wish I could go back in time and communicate these things to my younger self, although my younger self probably would have fiercely debated my older self and then come away concluding my older self was a moron.

What would I tell my younger self?

CALVINISM MATTERS, BUT IT’S NOT EVERYTHING

I treated the Doctrines of Grace as if they were the sum and substance of Christianity. As if when Jesus was asked about the greatest commandment, he said, “Be sure you believe in election and total depravity!”

This full-throated zeal for all things Calvinist caused me to look down on those who were far more godly than me yet maybe didn’t agree with me on every point of doctrine.

Sure, you’ve given your entire life to serve orphans and widows in Cameroon, but you don’t believe in election, so what’s the point?

Meanwhile, I’m sitting in my living room, wearing sweatpants and sipping coffee while I read Systematic Theology. 

It was absolutely pathetic.

I still believe that the Doctrines of Grace are crucially important to understanding Scripture, but there are other astonishingly important elements to following Jesus.

Like love. Mercy. Justice. Generosity. Serving. Compassion.

Calvinism should NOT be the dominant theme in everything I do as a Christian. Rather, it should be the background track, like the bass line in a Daft Punk song. Or, as John Newton said:

I am more of a Calvinist than anything else; but I use my Calvinism in my writing and preaching as I use this sugar. I do not give it alone, and whole; but mixed, and diluted… I think these doctrines should be in a sermon like sugar in a dish of tea, which sweetens every drop, but is nowhere to be found in a lump – tasted everywhere, though prominent nowhere.

IT’S NOT MY JOB TO CONVERT THE WORLD TO CALVINISM

For a brief time, I became the Mormon missionary of Calvinism (minus the weird name tag and odd underwear). I thought it was my job to convert all people to the gospel of Reformed doctrine, and if they didn’t convert, I became frustrated.

If someone disagreed with me, my brain began generating thoughts like this:

Why can’t they see it?!? They must be spiritually defective! They must be, like, a baby Christian or something! Have they not accepted John Piper into their hearts? Maybe if I just speak louder and longer, I can convince them of the truth. 

I foolishly assumed that it was my God-given responsibility to make sure that every person I knew fully agreed with everything I thought. As if I somehow had cornered the market on all sound doctrine and biblical understanding.

This is incredibly ironic given that the very heart of Reformed theology says God gets all the glory because he is the one ultimately responsible for all the saving, changing, and preserving. It’s like Alanis Morissette said: “Isn’t it ironic?”
Yes, yes it is.

I don’t debate about Reformed theology much these days. I’ll happily discuss it with someone who wants to, but I know that I can’t convince or change any person. If you want to chat about Calvinism, let’s grab a beer (a requirement of being Reformed) and we’ll hash it out.

CALVINISM IS NOT REQUIRED FOR GODLINESS

Some of the most godly, prayerful, loving, generous people I know, do not believe in Reformed theology. These people are so godly and so spirit-filled that they make me look like a headhunting pagan who plays with ouija boards for fun.

The truth is, godliness and Calvinism don’t necessarily go together. Calvinists have a somewhat well-earned reputation as pompous, self-righteous windbags who would rather write 10,000-word screeds than actually serve someone.

When I was younger, I assumed that a person who didn’t embrace Reformed theology was somehow less mature or godly than me. I look back and shudder.

I was the windbag.

I was the one who loved hearing myself talk.

I was the one who liked to toss around fancy theological words (double reprobation anyone?).

It was both terrifically ungodly and tremendously obnoxious. If you were at the business end of my weaponized Calvinism, I apologize.

I still fully embrace Reformed theology, but I now realize that it’s no longer necessary for godliness.

When John Wesley (an Arminian) was asked whether he thought he would see George Whitefield (a Calvinist) in heaven, he said, “No.” Then he said:

Do not misunderstand me, madam; George Whitefield was so bright a star in the firmament of God’s glory, and will stand so near the throne, that one like me, who am less than the least, will never catch a glimpse of him

I feel the same, but in the opposite direction. I expect I won’t see many of my fellow believers in heaven who don’t believe in Reformed theology because they will be much nearer the throne than me.

CALVINISM ISN’T THE SOLUTION FOR EVERY PROBLEM

When I first truly understood that God is sovereign over all things, that was a great comfort to me. God is working all things together for my good. God is the one responsible for saving people. God is in control of governments and presidential candidates (thank goodness!).

But too often, I treated the Doctrines of Grace as the cure-all medicine for every spiritual problem.

You’re struggling with worry? Don’t you believe God is sovereign?

You’re struggling with anger? Don’t you believe in total depravity?

You’re worried about whether you’ll make it to the end? Don’t you believe in perseverance of the saints?

You get the point. Calvinism became my miracle pill that I dispensed freely. No matter the circumstances, I was always quick to whip out my bottle of Reformed theology from my fanny pack of systematic theology (I think that analogy works).

I somehow failed to grasp that truth always goes down better when it’s preceded by grace, love, compassion, and the bearing of burdens. Grace is the spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine of truth go down. Love, compassion, and empathy make it so much easier to hear truth.

Now I still talk encourage people with those same biblical truths, but not before I spend plenty of time simply listening and bearing burdens.

IN THE END

When Jesus returns and all is said and done, I don’t think we’ll be debating the finer points of theology. We’ll be so enraptured with the glory of God that not much else will matter.

Until then, I’ll seek to continue to learn from those who are more godly than me. By God’s grace, in 10 years I’ll be less of a pompous windbag than I am now.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to drink a craft beer while listening to a John Piper sermon.


Source: http://theblazingcenter.com/2016/11/things-wish-tell-younger-self-calvinism-less-jerk.html

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