Turbulent Priests: The Theologian on Theology
September 8, 2010
One of the barriers which often hinders appreciation of the early church fathers is the sheer strangeness of the world in which they lived compared to that which we now inhabit. In many ways, the fundamental questions they asked were akin to those we face today. For example, `What does it look like here and now to be a committed disciple of Christ?' is one of those hardy perennials that Christians have asked throughout the years. In the ancient church, it looked rather ascetic and monastic. We might today deem such an answer as wrongheaded; but we cannot avoid the legitimate demands the question places on us; we too have to answer it in our day and age and perhaps, 1500 years from now, our answers will look rather odd.
Thus, the fact that Gregory of Nazianzus placed a high premium on the ascetic life indicates to us that his world is not ours but it should not lead us to dismiss him out of hand. He was a real, fallen, flesh-and-blood person, wrestling with the same deep questions of Christian identity and life as thoughtful Christians do today.
Having said this, reading the Fathers is not easy. Students should seek the help of a good beginner's guide, such as that forthcoming from Michael Haykin (Don't panic: in this case, the soul patch is a John Bunyan thing, and nothing to do with Michael feeling the need to quote Bono all the time or being a Conversational Worship Experience Facilitator at a church called something like `The Event' or `Village: Destiny').
For Gregory, to keep it straightforward, two things that make for good introductory reading are his First Theological Oration and On Flight.
The First Theological Oration is one of a series of five such sermons which were probably delivered at the Chapel of the Resurrection in Constantinople, as part of the teaching of orthodox Trinitarianism over against various streams of Arian thought. What is impressive about this work is the way in which the preaching is clearly very theological. First, he stresses the intimate connection between God, theologian or preacher, and congregation: theology is a serious business, requiring focus from both preacher and people. It is no pure head science but requires a commitment of heart and soul to the task. As God is pure, so those who presume to discuss God should seek to grow in purity too. hence the ascetic context for theology in Gregory's day. For us, heading out into the desert may not be an option; so it is well worth pondering what, for each of us, this demand for purity and focus might look like in our own lives and churches.
Second, the identity of God is clearly fundamental to Gregory's understanding of what salvation means and what it means to be a Christian. Thus, when in the pulpit, he needs to communicate that theology is no ivory tower irrelevance; preaching is about the awesome, overwhelming, holy God, not some pep talk that helps the congregants have a better self-image or be all that they want to be. The identity of God is at stake every time the preacher opens his mouth; if nothing else, the fourth century debates that culminated at Constantinople in 381 testify to the critical importance which all sides correctly ascribed to the identity of God and to the words that the church could legitimately use about him. And that made Christianity indelibly doctrinal at a foundational level, shaping the practice of the church both liturgically and homiletically. To Gregory, Christianity was, in a sense, a way of life -- but only as a response built upon a prior notion of Christianity as a statement about who God is and what he has done. We should remember this both in our preaching and in our discussions. There is a tendency today to see theological conflict as unnecessary, as really being about human identity and power struggles than god; that is because we have lost sight of the importance of God's identity -- hardly surprising if, as is so often the case, we assume theological talk is really anthropological talk. Sometimes trouble needs to be stirred up, fists need to fly, and chairs need to be thrown across the metaphysical room because the identity of God is at stake.
The second piece, On Flight, was written by Gregory to explain why he had `done a runner' when an attempt was made to take him from his monastery and ordain him in 361. Along with Chrysostom's `On the Priesthood' and Gregory the Great's `Pastoral Rule,' it is one of the key texts on what the pastoral call looked like in the ancient church. You need to read it for yourselves, but, suffice it to say, there are few pieces on the pastoral office which bring out the deep and urgent seriousness of the task. And why is that? Because Gregory had an overwhelming sense of God's holiness. That's why he fought for God's name in controversy and feared the call to ministry. That's why he had to be a turbulent priest.
Thus, the fact that Gregory of Nazianzus placed a high premium on the ascetic life indicates to us that his world is not ours but it should not lead us to dismiss him out of hand. He was a real, fallen, flesh-and-blood person, wrestling with the same deep questions of Christian identity and life as thoughtful Christians do today.
Having said this, reading the Fathers is not easy. Students should seek the help of a good beginner's guide, such as that forthcoming from Michael Haykin (Don't panic: in this case, the soul patch is a John Bunyan thing, and nothing to do with Michael feeling the need to quote Bono all the time or being a Conversational Worship Experience Facilitator at a church called something like `The Event' or `Village: Destiny').
For Gregory, to keep it straightforward, two things that make for good introductory reading are his First Theological Oration and On Flight.
The First Theological Oration is one of a series of five such sermons which were probably delivered at the Chapel of the Resurrection in Constantinople, as part of the teaching of orthodox Trinitarianism over against various streams of Arian thought. What is impressive about this work is the way in which the preaching is clearly very theological. First, he stresses the intimate connection between God, theologian or preacher, and congregation: theology is a serious business, requiring focus from both preacher and people. It is no pure head science but requires a commitment of heart and soul to the task. As God is pure, so those who presume to discuss God should seek to grow in purity too. hence the ascetic context for theology in Gregory's day. For us, heading out into the desert may not be an option; so it is well worth pondering what, for each of us, this demand for purity and focus might look like in our own lives and churches.
Second, the identity of God is clearly fundamental to Gregory's understanding of what salvation means and what it means to be a Christian. Thus, when in the pulpit, he needs to communicate that theology is no ivory tower irrelevance; preaching is about the awesome, overwhelming, holy God, not some pep talk that helps the congregants have a better self-image or be all that they want to be. The identity of God is at stake every time the preacher opens his mouth; if nothing else, the fourth century debates that culminated at Constantinople in 381 testify to the critical importance which all sides correctly ascribed to the identity of God and to the words that the church could legitimately use about him. And that made Christianity indelibly doctrinal at a foundational level, shaping the practice of the church both liturgically and homiletically. To Gregory, Christianity was, in a sense, a way of life -- but only as a response built upon a prior notion of Christianity as a statement about who God is and what he has done. We should remember this both in our preaching and in our discussions. There is a tendency today to see theological conflict as unnecessary, as really being about human identity and power struggles than god; that is because we have lost sight of the importance of God's identity -- hardly surprising if, as is so often the case, we assume theological talk is really anthropological talk. Sometimes trouble needs to be stirred up, fists need to fly, and chairs need to be thrown across the metaphysical room because the identity of God is at stake.
The second piece, On Flight, was written by Gregory to explain why he had `done a runner' when an attempt was made to take him from his monastery and ordain him in 361. Along with Chrysostom's `On the Priesthood' and Gregory the Great's `Pastoral Rule,' it is one of the key texts on what the pastoral call looked like in the ancient church. You need to read it for yourselves, but, suffice it to say, there are few pieces on the pastoral office which bring out the deep and urgent seriousness of the task. And why is that? Because Gregory had an overwhelming sense of God's holiness. That's why he fought for God's name in controversy and feared the call to ministry. That's why he had to be a turbulent priest.
