Back to the Basics, Part 4 - Open Theism v Process Theology

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Back to the Basics, Part 4:

Open Theism v Process Theology

by R.E. Slater

I thought I would review a few past articles beginning with ReKnew's 2019 and then two 2015 articles by Tom Oord.

I

In contrast to Reknew's theological "barriers" in the first article below, the process position states:

i) God positively interacts with creation because God is present in creation;

ii) prayers, of course, request a partnership between God and the petitioner;

iii) miracles are "common" everyday happenings whether we recognize them of not (I call them synchronicities); and,

iv) much like the Holy Spirit infilling the Christian believer, so too did God's Spirit infill Jesus.

Consequently, I have little sympathy towards any Open theist's misstatements about process theology....

II

And when reviewing Dr. Oord's 2015 early thoughts between Open and Process theology I can only say much, much, much has changed since then.

The process community certainly spans the evangelical and post-evangelical church but the latter post-evangelical distinction will grant the greatest flexibility and "openness" to theological thought.

That is because Whitehead's process philosophy is allergic to anything analytically Western, inorganic, non-relational, and non-open. The Continental position helps to bridge the gap between the Westernized philosophical camps but Process Philosophy is it's own thing.... One might even say the British philosopher AN Whitehead picked up where Continental philosopher GWF Hegel had left off re cosmological metaphysics a hundred+ years later.

Further, Process theology requires Open theology to be combined-coupled-integrated with Relational theology. The proper description then is a process theology which is open and relational. It is never one or the other. All relationships are open... and anything which is open is relationally dependent.

More to come...

R.E. Slater

May 20, 2024

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Process Theology & Open Theism:

What’s the Difference?

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March 19, 2019

Question: When ReKnew talks about Open Theism is it a mistake for people to equate it with Process theology, and if so what are the defining differences?

Answer: Thanks for the kind words of affirmation. I wrote my doctoral dissertation on Process thought (Trinity and Process) where I critiqued the metaphysics of Charles Hartshorne and tried to demonstrate that one can adopt a system that has all the explanatory power of Process Thought (PT) without its unorthodox implications. The unorthodox implications are these. In Process Thought (PT), God exists eternally in relation to a non-divine world. So PT denies “creation ex nihilo”

• In PT, God is bound to metaphysical principles that govern both God and the world. So God isn’t able to really interact with the world as a personal being. God must always, of necessity, respond in ways that the metaphysics of the system stipulate. This means…

• In PT God can’t intervene in unique ways, like personally answering prayer

• In PT God can’t intervene and perform miracles

• In PT God can’t become uniquely embodied, as he is in Christ.

These are pretty serious shortcomings. I hope it’s clear that PT has got little in common with Open Theism other than that we both believe the future is partly comprised of possibilities. But even here there is a major difference. In Open Theism, God chooses to create a world with an open future, while in PT God has created of necessity.

I am very concerned that so many progressive thinking evangelicals are flirting with Process Thought. It’s really not a friendly home for anything like orthodox Christianity. While many find the dynamic and relational ontology of process thought, compelling—I can see how this is attractive— the intrinsic nature of the system is hostile to the Christian faith.

If you want to go deeper on this topic, my book Trinity and Process seeks to clarify all that’s positive with PT while avoiding all that’s negative. For a succinct summary of some of the shortcomings of PT, see chapter 9 in my book Satan and the Problem of Evil.

TheBusyBrain via Compfight

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The Future of Open Theology

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by Thomas Jay Oord

January 2, 2015

Open theology has matured in many ways since the ground-breading publication of The Openness of God book twenty years ago. I’ve been thinking about what the next twenty years might be for open theology.

At an Open and Relational Theologies group session at the recent American Academy of Religion meeting, I joined three of the authors of The Openness of God for reflection on the book’s impact. It seemed like the right time to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the book’s publication.

I am deeply grateful to the five authors of The Openness of God: David Basinger, William Hasker, Clark Pinnock, Richard Rice, and John Sanders. The book has been powerful in my own life and in the lives of many Christians like me who were not satisfied with what Clark Pinnock called “conventional” theism.

I encountered the book not long after it was published in 1994. It confirmed many of my own intuitions, as one raised in the Arminian/Wesleyan/Holiness tradition. Since reading the book, I’ve encountered many others who after reading it said, “That’s something like what I’ve been thinking, but I thought I was the only one!”

Openness writers expressed their ideas in biblical language typical of the Christian tradition in general and my own evangelical-Wesleyan tradition in particular. And as Dave Basinger has said, The Openness of God created more space for Evangelicals like me to deny classic views of God’s foreknowledge.

Now that 20 years have passed, I’ve been thinking about the future of open theology. Of course, open and relational theists like me who think the future is not yet knowable by God should be the first to admit we don’t know what the future will be! But I want to look at the present state of open theology, as I see it, and speculate about what the future might be.

Philosophy

Open theology has made an impact in a variety of academic disciplines, schools of thought, and ways of thinking. Some of its greatest success has been in analytic philosophy circles. Thanks to the efforts of many, including two of The Openness of God authors, David Basinger and Bill Hasker, it is common for an openist philosopher to be given hearing at philosophy of religion conferences. Some do not specifically self-identify as openist philosophers, but their views of God’s relation to time and foreknowledge place them in the openist camp.

In the future, I speculate that openness ideas will continue to expand in analytic philosopher circles but grow more rapidly among theistic philosophers of religion captivated by Continentalist philosophy. Such philosophers may not embrace the label “openist” philosopher, but the fundamental drive of Continentalist philosophy, as I see it, is overturning oppressive structures, systems, and ideas. An open view fits naturally with such liberating concerns, because liberationist philosophies seem to presuppose agency, potential novelty, a measure of iconoclasm, and forward movement though time.

Liberation

Speaking of liberation, open theology seems to have enjoyed less influence among the wide swath of theological perspectives I put under the general category of liberationist theologies. Whether such theologies have gender, ethnic, or political concerns, I know only a few self-identifying openness theologians thinking through openness implications for liberationist theologies.

I think this lack of influence has more to do with the sociological and cultural positions of prominent opennist thinkers thus far and not anything inherent in liberation theology. But TC Moore is right when he talks about Open theology’s need for greater ethnic, cultural, and gender diversity.

My hunch is that the future of openness theology will be strongly influenced by liberation theologians of various types. I think this in part because of the inherent openness intuitions of liberationist thinking. I also think openness thinking will expand because of blossoming interest in liberationist theologies among peoples of diverse cultural, sexual, and political orientations.

Science

The open view of God has a strong representation in the contemporary science and theology discussion. As Bethany Sollereder has noted, openness advocates in the UK like John Polkinghorne, Keith Ward, and Arthur Peacocke are known for their denial of classical divine foreknowledge. In the U.S., prominent scholars of science and religion such as Philip Clayton, Ian Barbour, John Haught, Nancy Howell, and others deny classical foreknowledge and embrace the basic theology advanced by the Openness of God authors.

In 2007 and 2008, I co-led with Clark Pinnock and Karl Giberson some conferences on science and open theology. These events brought together for the first time many American openness thinkers with the intent was to think about openness categories in relation to science. Two books were published as a result.

What struck me most was the eagerness of openness thinkers to engage scientific issues and the general scientific endeavor. Openness theology has implicit and explicit appreciation of empiricism and epistemological realism, which I think makes open theology a natural conversation partner with contemporary sciences.

Ethics

Does open theology incline one toward a particular stance on ethics? I think it does, although I know very few who have argued this carefully.

In my view, love will be at the center of an openness ethic. So too will be the kind of moral responsibility that only comes when one believes creaturely action has genuine influence upon all others and God. An openness ethic will encourage empathy, vulnerability, listening, and suffering love.

A few have begun to ask what Openness Theology might contribute to the global crisis of our time: climate change. Sharon Harvey’s work comes to mind, as does Michael Lodahl’s. But much more must be done, at least by Evangelically-oriented open theologians.

Grassroots

I think the future of open theology will be largely shaped by those at the grass roots. General features of open theology resonate deeply with laity and pastors. The conversations occurring on the internet and in local churches give me great hope that open theology will continue spread. We must continue to ponder how we might foster, support, and encourage this aspect of open theology.

A few year ago, I joined Tom Belt and TC Moore to host the first Open Theology for the Church conference at Gregory Boyd’s church outside Minneapolis. The eagerness of those attending was palpable, as they expressed their renewed sense of passion for God and Christian living. I hope similar events will be held in the future.

As I think about the future of Open theology, I’m also drawn to reflect on its relationship with Process theology. I’ll focus an entire blog to my thoughts on that relationship in the future.

Conclusion

The future is bright for open and relational theologies. Momentum is strong, and the possibilities are diverse. I pray that those of us persuaded by this general view of reality will follow God’s wise leading into the open future.

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Open and Process Theologies Blur?

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by Thomas Jay Oord

January 7, 2015

Open and process theologies have much in common. But differences also exist. The future of open theology, in my view, will be largely shaped by ongoing conversations between the two theological perspectives. But I expect them to draw closer and their boundaries to blur.

Open and process theologies have much in common. But differences also exist. The future of open theology, in my view, will be largely shaped by ongoing conversations between the two theological perspectives. But I expect them to draw closer and their boundaries to blur.

In a previous blog essay, I talked about the future of open theology. I looked briefly at the present state of open theology, as I see it, and speculated about what the future might be.

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I’m especially interested in the future relationship between openness and process theologies. In Evangelical circles, openness theologians have primarily argued with or against theologians informed by the Calvinist theological perspective. In those discussions, open theologians have often worked hard to distinguish themselves from process theology on a number of points.

The formal conversation between open theologians and process theologians began not long after the publication of the groundbreaking book, The Openness of God. In 1997, the Center for Process Studies brought together for discussion self-identifying openness thinkers and self-identifying process thinkers. The several days, semi-private meeting was intriguing on many levels, with about 30 participants involved.

I was a graduate student at Claremont during this time, and I was invited to participate. What I remember most from those meetings was the common Christian piety the process “liberals” and openness “evangelicals” shared. Several process thinkers shared personal stories of growing up in Evangelical traditions only to feel that they needed to leave upon finding open and relational ideas attractive.

The following year, in 1998, many openness thinkers returned to Claremont for the Center for Process Studies Whitehead conference. Papers given at the subsequent conference by David Griffin, William Hasker, Richard Rice, Nancy Howell, and David Wheeler comprised the book, Searching for an Adequate God (Eerdmans), edited by Clark Pinnock and John Cobb.

The Future of the Openness-Process Conversation

The authors of The Openness of God have generally sought to distinguish their view from process theology. And many openness thinkers from Evangelical communities continue to make these distinctions today. In fact, there is often immense political pressure in Evangelical communities to avoid being associated with the “process” label.

My hunch, however, is that the future of openness theology will involve blurring of lines between the two theological perspectives. I doubt the open theology and process theology will ever entirely collapse into one perspective. But I expect the overlap and hybridization to increase among those pursuing constructive theology in the general open and relational theological tradition.

Here are five reasons I think the lines between open theology and process theology will continue to blur in future years:

1. Essence? – It is difficult to identify the “essence” of open theology. As a number of internet communities dedicated to openness theology have discovered, significant diversity abounds among self-identified openness thinkers around important issues like Christology, eschatology, ethics, biblical inspiration, and divine power.

The closest thing to an essence in open theology is a rejection of the classical view of divine foreknowledge and insistence that the future is open even for God. Openness thinkers themselves have alternative ways of talking about God’s omniscience and relation to the future. Alan Rhoda and William Hasker, for instance, are both prominent openness philosophers with different views of how to conceptualize God’s omniscience.

Likewise, it is difficult if not impossible to find an essence of process theology. Leading process theologian, John Cobb, insists there is no essence. By contrast, David Griffin identifies ten “core doctrines” of process theology.

Incidentally, very few outside the process camp define process theology in ways that most self-identifying process thinkers define it. When someone says to me, “process theology is unorthodox,” I often ask, “What do you mean by ‘process theology.’” Nine times out of ten, the definition they offer is very different from the definition most self-identifying process theologians define process thought.

2. Cross-Self-Identifying – The second reason I think open and process theology lines will blur pertains to how theologians self-identify. Some self-identifying process theists – such as Philip Clayton and Joseph Bracken – affirm views of original creation (creatio ex nihilo) and divine power that some self-identifying open theologians think distinguish open theology from process thought.

Some self-identifying open and relational theists affirm views of original creation and divine power that some process theologians think characterize process theology. Consequently, on these key issues, the boundaries already blur.

3. Nimble and Open – The third reason I think the lines will blur between open and process theology is probably more of a recommendation. Christian history suggests that those who make it their goal to define and then protect the essence of a view often find their view to lose influence. Whitehead is right when he says the pure conservative is fighting against the essence of the universe.

Protecting and promulgating a concise set of propositions can be effective in the short term and with those whose basic orientation is to conserve. But a theological tradition is better served to promote a few basic intuitions that might capture the imaginations of young and emerging theologians who are creative, passionate, intelligent, and activist-minded. Vital theological traditions are nimble and open. I think Openness of God author, David Basinger is wise when he says he has “no interest in trying to preserve a set of core essential openness beliefs.”

4. Post-Evangelicalism – The fourth reason I think open theology and process theologies will blur pertains to a phenomenon many call “post-evangelicalism.” A shrinking number of young Christians raised in the Evangelical tradition want to self-identify as Evangelicals. They still love Jesus and still think theology and the Church are important. But their reluctance to self-identify as Evangelical stems for a variety of social, cultural, and political reasons.

Post-evangelicals are more open to blurring boundaries, pushing envelopes, and coloring beyond the standard Evangelically authorized lines. Many are dissatisfied with the Evangelical status quo. Many gravitate toward openness and process thinking and don’t see the need to distinguish the two sharply.

5. Theodicy – The final reason I think open theology and process theologies will blur pertains to a substantive issue: theodicy. Although the theodicy offered by the authors of The Openness of God sounds far better than conventional theodicies claiming God foreordained and foreknew evil, many openness thinkers admit their view doesn’t resolve the problem of evil like process theology can.

William Hasker, David Basinger, John Sanders, Greg Boyd, and Richard Rice have done work admirable in this area. John Sanders’s book, The God Who Risks has been especially influential. But they admit that their view of God’s power cannot solve the problem entirely.

The theodicy issue has been the focus of some of my own work, and I’ve offered a solution I call “essential kenosis.” I offer this solution based upon understanding God’s power in light of God’s love in my books, The Nature of Love (Chalice) and Defining Love (Brazos). An even fuller defense of the essential kenosis theodicy in light of randomness and evil comes in my forthcoming book, The Uncontrolling Love of God (IVP Academic). I also explain it in my contribution to the forthcoming God and the Problem of Evil: Five Views book on theodicy (IVP; Chad Meister and Jamie Dew, eds.)

Conclusion

Of course, I could be completely wrong about all that I have said in this essay and the previous one.

In fact, that’s one strength of open and process theologies: they fit our experiences of reality, including the experience of being wrong about our predictions about what might occur. But even false predictions can become resources God might use when calling us into our moment-by-moment, open and relational existence.

May God bless us all – no matter how we self-identify – as we seek to follow the Apostle Paul’s admonition to imitate God, as beloved children, and live a life of love as Christ loved us… (Eph 5:1)

Thomas Jay Oord - Barbie and Our Purpose

 

Barbie Main Trailer

by Warner Bros. Pictures

May 25, 2023

Billie Eilish - What Was I Made For? 

(Official Music Video)

by Billie Eilish

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Barbie and Our Purpose

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by Thomas Jay Oord

February 25th, 2024

Tripp Fuller and I have written a book called God After Deconstruction. It will be available in April 2024.

Among the issues we discuss is how to think about purpose after the traditional God is deconstructed. Here’s an excerpt from the book, which builds on the Barbie movie.

What Was I Made For?

In the blockbuster movie Barbie, we find the world-renown doll and diverse friends in roles their maker has chosen. The toys dance and sing, party, and live according to the determinations of their manufacturer, Mattel.

In a moment of questioning, however, Barbie ponders life beyond what has been decided for her. She wonders what the real world might be like. So she visits Weird Barbie and is presented with a choice: go “back to the way your life was” or “know the truth about the universe.”

At first, Barbie chooses what’s safe and familiar: Barbie Land. “I’m not Adventure Barbie,” she explains, “I’m Stereotypical Barbie.”

With a little coaxing, she opts to learn the truth. So she departs Barbie Land for an adventure. To her delight, Barbie finds the real world thrilling; her newfound autonomy gives joy. But this liberation raises questions about who she is, the customs of her past, and the desires of her friends, especially Ken. Barbie realizes that the restrictions of the status quo, especially patriarchy, cause harm.

Near the end of the movie, Barbie talks with corporate leaders at Mattel. In a conversation with a CEO, Barbie admits to being confused: “I’m not really sure where I belong anymore.” Billie Eilish expresses this angst beautifully in the Grammy Award-winning song written for the movie: “What Was I Made For?”

Barbie then interacts with Ruth, the woman who originally imagined her as a doll for her daughter. “I want to be part of the people that make meaning, not the thing that’s made,” Barbie says, “I want to be the one imagining, not the idea itself.”

“You don’t need my permission,” Ruth replies.

“But you’re The Creator,” says Barbie. “You control me.”

“Ha!” says Ruth. “I can’t control you any more than I could control my own daughter!”

God’s Role in Purpose and Meaning

After the God of traditional theology is deconstructed, questions arise: What is our purpose? Does life have meaning? What’s the point?

The God of traditional theology is like the patriarchy at Mattel… but even more controlling. This deity predetermines the actions of all, so we’re dolls playing predestined roles. Rather than agents with autonomy, we dance and sing, enjoy and suffer, bleed and die according to our Maker’s will.

When God is imagined as one who foreordains and/or foreknows, questions about purpose and meaning have simple answers. Life’s purpose is whatever God determines, and it means whatever God decides. When God is in control, it all makes sense…

at least at first.

Like Barbie, however, we who deconstruct begin to imagine life outside systems that confine us. We realize we make free actual choices, and our lives matter. So we embark on an adventure to discover a world beyond what’s expected. We grow.

Once we — like Barbie — recognize our autonomy, it becomes difficult to imagine a controlling God. When we suffer needlessly or encounter evil in the world, we begin to doubt God has a pre-selected blueprint. Unjust systems make us wonder about an omnipotent God’s purposes; pointless pain causes us to question whether life has ultimate meaning. We encounter the restrictions of controlling systems and the restricting gods required to manage them.

The Barbie movie answers these questions by saying the purpose of life is in the living of it. The movie’s last moments show Barbie imagining experiences of various types. The message seems to be that we find meaning in whatever happens. That has a measure of truth, but isn’t there something more?

How might we think about God, purpose, and meaning after traditional theology?

Thomas Jay Oord: Reviewing "The Deconstruction of Christianity"

Reviewing “The Deconstruction of

Christianity”

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by Thomas Jay Oord   |   February 16th, 2024

In their book The Deconstruction of Christianity, Alisa Childers and Tim Barnett help readers “stand your ground and respond with clarity and confidence” in the face of deconstruction.

In what follows, I review the book. Overall, I find it unhelpful. But there are a few aspects I like.

Apostasy

The book starts on a sour note: the first word is “apostasy.” Readers like me will immediately wonder if this book aims to help those asking hard questions or defend the Christian faith against the “heretics.” In many ways, it opts for the second. The opening pages are not welcoming.

Childers and Barnett didn’t write this book for questioning people who are deconstructing. It’s for the friends and family of deconstructors. It’s “primarily written for Christians who are experiencing deconstruction from the outside.” The authors’ goal is to “walk you through what deconstruction is and how it works, and give you practical advice on how to relate with friends and loved ones going through it.” (6)

The authors acknowledge some people see deconstruction as compatible with Christianity. Childers and Barnett disagree. “Deconstruction is as old as humanity itself,” they say. “It began with Satan—the father of faith deconstruction—and continues today.” (47 ) In fact, “people have been abandoning the standard of God’s Word and engaging in a process of rethinking—and often abandoning—their faith since the beginning.” (61)

It’s Ultimately About Authority

This book has many problems, and I’ll list some later. As I see it, the fundamental problems are two:

1. The authors want a fully trustworthy authority (the Bible).

2. The authors think Christians must choose between the Bible as that authority and the authority of the individual person.

“The heart of the deconstruction explosion is a rejection of biblical authority,” say Childers and Barnett bluntly. (26) The Bible provides truths that the method of deconstruction and deconstructors abandon.

Appealing to the Bible as the only trustworthy authority won’t convince those who deconstruct, of course. Most (rightly) doubt that the Bible is fully reliable, saying it is neither inerrant nor infallible. Childers and Barnett dismiss this doubt, in part, by saying deconstructors have shallow faith, are rebellious, fight on the wrong side of a spiritual battle, follow culture instead of Christ, are captive to Satan, get seduced by vain philosophy, are broken and sinful, and so on (see chapter 10 and elsewhere).

At least in this book, the authors don’t address realities that undermine belief in the absolute authority of the Bible. They don’t address people like me and others who 1) know the many errors and discrepancies in scripture, 2) know the original languages and differences between the oldest known biblical manuscripts, and 3) know that biblical passages receive a wide variety of plausible interpretations.

Objective vs. Subjective Truth?

Childers and Barnett believe Christians face an either/or choice when it comes to truth. They can 1) place their trust in the Bible, which is an external authority. Or 2) trust themselves and their own subjectivity.

The Bible “communicates objective truth that isn’t meant to be interpreted subjectively,” the authors claim (34). In the deconstruction movement, “biblical interpretation becomes subjective.” (35) “Deconstruction isn’t just about questioning beliefs,” they say, “it’s about rejecting Scripture as the source of objective truth and authority.” (121) Deconstructors reject God’s Word.

This objective vs. subjective scheme, however, makes little sense. Long before “deconstruction” was a word in the academy or popular culture, people realized no one has a fully objective, unbiased, and uninfluenced perspective. Histories, cultures, perspectives, preferences, biology, and feelings influence those who read the Bible. Because personal subjectivity inevitably influences our interpretations, good and wise people interpret scripture in ways.

Sometimes those in the deconstruction community encourage people to “make up their own minds,” instead of following a church, pastor, or influencer. But this doesn’t mean people are entirely free of influence from others. We’re always affected by forces, factors, ideas, and actors external to ourselves. Objective causes influence our subjectivity; interpretations have external influences.

People like Jacques Derrida are right when they say that words—including biblical words — have no timeless and absolute meaning. But you don’t have to be a philosopher to know this: just look at how many biblical translations and interpretations are present today and throughout history. A more accurate view says objective factors outside ourselves always affect our subjectivity. And one of those factors may or may not be the Bible.

Authoritative Mindset

Two overarching issues came repeatedly to mind as I read The Deconstruction of Christianity. The first has to do with what in cognitive science is called the “Authoritative” mindset. Childers and Barnett write from it, and their frequent appeals to biblical authority illustrate this.

Cognitive sciences describe three primary mindsets among people at least in the West: Authoritative, Nurturant, and Permissive. Evangelicals like Childers and Barnett typically operate from the Authoritative mindset. They need authorities more than most people. So Authoritatives put their confidence in a book (Bible), group (church or denomination), leader (pastor), government (USA), or person (Donald Trump). They also prize obedience, order, certainty, hierarchies, coercion, and more.

As I read The Deconstruction of Christianity, I found oodles of evidence that Childers and Barnett operate from an Authoritative mindset. Deconstruction annoys them because it does not. In God After Deconstruction (coming out in April 2024), Tripp Fuller and I argue that the Nurturant mindset better reflects the message of Jesus. Sociological studies show that those with a Nurturant mindset are healthier in various ways than those with Authoritative mindsets. They also live well without the strong need for external authorities.

Complexity Stage

The second theme continually coming to my mind as I read Childers and Barnett is what many call the “stages of faith.” Brian McLaren offers a rubric with four stages and names them “simplicity,” “complexity,” “perplexity,” and “harmony.”

Childers and Barnett fit nicely in the complexity stage. Like simplicity people, they seek clear categories of black and white, us and them, in and out, right and wrong. The authors make strong distinctions between Christ vs. the world, church vs. culture, and scriptural truth vs. societal opinions. But unlike simplicity people, Childers and Barnett offer sophisticated versions of these distinctions, realizing there must be some nuance.

Those who deconstruct fit in either the perplexity or harmony stages of faith. The connection between deconstruction and perplexity will be obvious. But even in the harmony stage, the methods of deconstruction are not abandoned. Harmony people recognize the falsity of strict binaries, in part, because they cannot capture well the God present to and revealing in all creation.

Should Christians Question?

Childers and Barnett repeatedly tell their readers that questioning is normal and has always been part of the Christian faith. Christians should ask questions about the Bible, God, and life. Test the Bible, they say, and the church.

But the questioning Childers and Barnett advocate can’t get too radical. We should not question the ultimate authority: “God’s Word” (or what is better called “Christian scripture”). Questioning harms if it undermines this ultimate standard for truth. Some who ask questions are really just looking for ways to exit the faith.

Although deconstruction is bad, reformation is good. According to the authors, “reformation is the process of correcting mistaken beliefs to make them align with Scripture.” (125) Notice the priority of the Bible again. The message: question… but don’t abandon scripture.

To return to McLaren’s faith formation language, Childers and Barnett seem to encourage questioning if it moves the Christian from a simplistic faith to a complex one. But questioning that might move the person toward perplexity and harmony goes too far. Such questioning might, and usually does, undermine trust in the Bible as fully trustworthy. And it might lead people to doubt doctrines the authors consider essential, even the existence of God.

To illustrate his willingness to entertain tough questions, Tim Barnett briefly brings up the problem of evil. The authors earlier (rightly) noted that questions about evil are the primary reasons people deconstruct. When asked why God doesn’t stop evil, Barnett says, “I don’t know.” He doesn’t have an answer to why God sometimes permits evil, but other times intervenes. He knows this isn’t satisfying, but he’s trying to be honest.

I wonder why the Bible—Barnett’s authoritative source and “God’s Word”—doesn’t provide an answer to the problem of evil that satisfies him. To the #1 question asked by people who deconstruct, why doesn’t the alleged ultimate authority offer a satisfying answer? Barnett thinks the Bible’s clear about issues like penal substitutionary atonement, although that issue keeps far fewer people up at night.

Despite the encouragement to ask some questions, The Deconstruction of Christianity claims that those who deconstruct are deceived, rebellious, disingenuous, etc. See the list above. This encouragement rings hollow.

Reasons to Deconstruct

In the first half of the book, Childers and Barnett address reasons people deconstruct. They don’t offer answers to these issues. And they give mixed messages.

At one point, the authors claim that “most people don’t make a conscious choice to enter into deconstruction.” This fits the experience of most people I know. The authors say that deconstruction is “often triggered by a crisis that initiates the process. It’s typically not something people choose. In many cases, it happens to them.” (78) Elsewhere, however, the authors blame deconstruction on “rebellion against God” (193).

Among the reasons people deconstruct, the authors list suffering, doubt, politics, purity culture, the Bible, toxic theology, and abuse. They don’t offer rejoinders for these reasons. And they say that people of shallow faith struggle with them. The message seems to be those who truly trust the Bible can handle issues that might tempt other people to deconstruct.

Childers and Barnett insist that abuse and injustice are not reflections of Christian doctrines. “There certainly are valid examples of abuse in the church, such as sexual assault and abuses of power,” they say. “But many deconstructionists go further, saying that some historic orthodox teachings of Christianity—such as penal substitutionary atonement, the doctrine of hell, and complementarianism—are abusive by nature.” (96)

Although the authors preach the importance of good theology, they will not admit that some of what they consider “historic orthodox teachings” leads people to deconstruct.

Toxic Theology?

In a chapter titled “Toxic,” Childers and Barnett further address the claim that traditional Christian practices and doctrines sometimes harm. These claims about harm draw primarily from research in sociology and history, they say, rather than Scripture.

Beth Allison Barr’s book The Making of Biblical Womanhood garners the authors’ attention. Barr argues that Christian views have often harmed women and restricted them from some roles. Childers and Barnett also cite Kristin Kobes DuMez’s work on Christian nationalism as an example of history and sociology trumping theology.

The authors say arguments like Barr’s and Kobes DuMez’s begin by identifying a problem in society. Then they show how the church endorsed or allowed this problem. Finally, they argue that theology (especially white evangelical theology) should be rejected or reimagined.

Because Barr and Kobes DuMez address women’s issues, I was eager to see how Childers and Barnett would respond. I assumed the authors would give an argument for complementarity. Instead, they say, “The extent to which women can take part in church leadership roles has been hotly debated among faithful Christians for millennia. The point… is not to settle the correct biblical teaching on the topic.” Instead, they argue that history and sociology cannot “discover true doctrines and rule out harmful, false ones.” (150)

To settle disputes about the role of women and how they’ve been harmed, say the authors, we need “an objective standard to appeal to. This requires the Bible.” They add that “while neither of the authors of this book would fault someone for coming to an honest position on biblical grounds regarding the egalitarian vs. complementarian debate, we would fault someone for rejecting complementarianism simply because they didn’t like where those Bible passages lead.” (150)

Not the Bible Alone

In their discussion of Barr and DuMez, Childers and Barnett are blind to the problem they’ve created.

If “honest” people can come to differing views about gender roles while studying the “objective standard” of the Bible, that standard isn’t the clear authority needed to decide this issue. Childers and Barnett seem to admit that the Bible is open to more than one legitimate interpretation of what it says about women. This means other standards are needed.

Barr, Kobes DuMez, and others cite sociological, historical, psychological, and even medical data as offering apparent fruits of various Christian practices and doctrines. They’re pondering the consequences of particular beliefs and practices and making strong cases that some produce bad fruit. And because the Bible can be interpreted in various ways, we need other sources for deciding which beliefs and practices are healthy or true and which are not.

The role of women is just one among many issues in which the Bible cannot be the sole resource for Christian doctrines and practices. The need for multiple sources applies also to questions of sexuality.

In fact, I laughed out loud when I read the “Homophobia” section of the book. Childers and Barnett say that Scripture describes sexual immorality as any act of sex other than “between one man and one woman in the context of marriage.” This is laughable! Don’t they know about Solomon’s wives? Or are only some passages of the Bible authoritative on this issue? I laughed again when they wrote, “It’s not just a few so-called ‘clobber’ passages that teach this. It’s the narrative of Scripture cover to cover.” (37) What Bible are they reading?

What I Liked

There wasn’t much I liked in this book. But here are some in bullet form:

* I liked the authors’ empathy for family and friends of those who deconstruct. Of course, I think the lion’s share of empathy should go to deconstructors. The authors express relatively little of that compared to criticisms. But Childers and Barnett rightly note the anguish that parents and friends of those who deconstruct sometimes endure. It’s painful to teach a child your cherished beliefs, only to have that child call them harmful. To illustrate this point, Childers and Barnett write, “When deconstruction leads to a rejection of faith, that can feel like a death both to the one deconstructing and to their loved ones.” (66) They’re right.

* The authors quoted books and social media from some of the leading voices in deconstruction. Sometimes critics ignore what their opponents actually say. While Childers and Barnett made some missteps, I thought they were pretty good overall. I even found a few sources for the book Tripp and I are writing!

* The authors believe ideas matter. Like me, they think theology makes a difference, because our views of reality make a difference. While I disagree radically with many of their theological claims, I appreciate their dedication to exploring ideas, their truth and impact. Theology is more than sociology.

* I think critical race theory and its reflection on power should be one tool in social analysis. I affirm it. But I agree with the authors that sometimes those who use critical race theory put all their cards on issues of power without addressing issues of truth. Most times, the two overlap. But I think both must be addressed.

Conclusion

My notes on this book extend far beyond what I have written here. Although I disagree fundamentally with the authors and disagree on most points of the book, I’m glad I read it.

This book also helped with writing the book Tripp Fuller and I are doing called, God After Deconstruction. If these issues interest you, I hope you consider buying a copy when it comes in April 2024. And here’s a graphic for the upcoming Denver conference on the subject.

R.E. Slater - Divine Sovereignty - What Is It?

Divine Sovereignty - What Is It?

Is It Near or Far? Controlling or Uncontrolling? Fully Knowledgeable

or Processually Affected in It's Divine Knowledge, Power, and Presence?

by R.E. Slater

December 16, 2022

A Fresh Perspective of Divine Omnipotence

When thinking of a Divine God with Divine Power it perhaps is better think in terms of Divine Love....

Shocking?

Perhaps.

But certainly much more in line with a "biblical" God than if casting Divinity in terms of non-Loving power and control. (aka, church-like dominionism with its legalisms, rites, and beliefs).

For a process theologian when speaking of God we prefer to speak of a God who is loving at all times rather than some times... or maybe not at all.

Too, if divine Sovereignty were cast in terms of a divinely Loving God at all times than the traditional terms of power and control must also be altered to better reflect a loving God.

As example, for the traditional language of omnipotence let's recast it in terms of "amnipotence" - that is, LOVING power (see Oord's articles below).

Let's also do the same with the very unhealthy word "control" which Christians love to sing about and speak to when praising God's omniscient determination of our own affairs and the world's.

A process theologian will do away with words like "divine control" altogether when speaking to a divinely-loving sovereignty within processual categories of divine processual indeterminancy. By which we mean, that creation, if it were to follow it's inherently- divine "Imago Dei" of God birthed within it (and yes, even today does this divine birth continue - as versus just one time "in Adam" ala Paul's voluminous characterization of Adam's sin in the book of Romans).

And further, because divine Love created creation in God's Image (Imago Dei) it also was created by Love (and not by divine fiat) with intermittant freewill.

That is, creational freewill agency - just like our own freewill agency - is fraught between generative, or valuative, good and sin and evil, which are not generatively good or valuative of someone or something outside itself.

A Processual Divinity Takes on a

New Divine Character and Attributes...

Hence, process theology generally teaches of a loving and uncontrolling (or noncontrolling) divine Sovereignty which, though genuinely powerful is genuinely loving and noncontrolling per the processual metaphysics found throughout the universe's "cosmic being".

Which cosmic being may also give rise to someone or something that isn't just "IS," in itself, but also "BECOMING" more than itself in itself.

So when when describing God as a processual God a process metaphysician (or metatheologian?) will say that God is not only complete in himself but also has the capacity in God's Godness of transcendence to be 100% present and immanent to creation's "processual" being. Which is to say that God in God's relationship with creation will "grow" and "become" with creation as it becomes.

When saying this a process theology is stating that neither party is static but continually evolving in relationship to itself and with creation as a whole. And that an IMMANENT God - in God's timeful existence - processually evolves with our own existence. An existence which, unlike God's divine Self, may also devolve in it's processually timeful existence.

Take note: "God qua God is complete." God is infinitely Becomed or Evolved. But in God's processual relationship with an evolving or devolving freewill and indeterminant creation, God is continually processing - or urging - that creation to become what it inherently is in itself re its Divine Imago; than to lean into the dark side of its unloving, devolving freewill which is as "uncontrollable" as its upside potential is.

Processual divine Sovereignty then speaks to an evolving/devolving creation which is and may become more than it is or may become less than it is.... And further, it is by God's redemptive power imbued into creation (as depicted by God's atoning redemption) that a freewilled, indeterminant creation may be released from its devolvement towards a processually good and generatively valuative part of the creational whole when partnering with salvific God of creation.

Thus and thus, the classical church teachings re divine omnipotence, omniscience, even omnipresence, when recast processually completely change the nuances of a truly divine loving sovereignty. And when done, show us a divine God who is much more who God is than our own images of God cast into our own religious images however "Christian" or "biblical" they claim to be. Let's read below Thomas Oord's thoughts on a few of these Christianized aspects of God....

Blessings & Merry Christmas!

R.E. Slater

December 16, 2022

https://open.spotify.com/episode/55JiRaUOL47X3mmgqZggOu

Part 1

The Death of Omnipotence

(and Birth of Amnipotence)

https://thomasjayoord.com/index.php/blog/archives/the-death-of-omnipotence

by Thomas Jay Oord

November 16th, 2022

I’m writing a new book. My tentative title is “The Death of Omnipotence… and Birth of Amipotence.”

As the title suggests, I’ll argue that God is not omnipotent. But instead of simply saying, “God can’t do…,” I’m also proposing a view of divine power I think is more biblically supported, philosophically coherent, and experientially justified. I call it “amipotence.” (Here’s a 3-minute ORTShort describing the word.)

Here’s how I plan to start the book…

THERE’S NOTHING THAT HE CANNOT DO?

“My God is so big, so strong, and so mighty there’s nothing that He cannot do.”[1] These lines from a children’s song give voice to what many people believe: God can do anything.

Other song lyrics proclaim the glory of an all-powerful God. In his Messiah concerto, George Frideric Handel’s oft-repeated lines ring out:

For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth,

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah![2]

Contemporary worship choruses promote omnipotence, declaring a sovereign God cannot be thwarted nor the divine will be frustrated. It’s common for believers, enraptured in praise, to lift their voices to the One they call “almighty” and proclaim, “our God reigns!”

OMNIPOTENCE

“Omnipotence” expresses in formal language the “God can do anything” view. A God with all (omni) power (potent) apparently can do anything we imagine and more. Augustine made this connection, saying the omnipotent God is “He who can do all things.”[3]

In some theologies, God actually exerts all power and is the cause of everything; call this “theological determinism” or “monergism.” In others, God could do everything but chooses not to. God so conceived controls from time to time but generally opts to allow creatures to exert power; call this view “voluntary divine self-limitation.”[4]

Among the attributes theists ascribe to God, omnipotence is likely best known. For many, it’s a placeholder for God – “the Omnipotent.” Although distinctions can be made, the term is often thought synonymous with other words and phrases describing divine power: “sovereign,” “all-powerful,” and “almighty.”[5] These describe what many think necessary of a being worthy of worship: unlimited power.

Christian creeds refer to God’s almightiness. “I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth…” begins the Apostle’s Creed. The Nicene Creed starts similarly: “We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth…” The Westminster Confession speaks of a God who, in “sovereign” or “almighty” activity, saw fit to “ordain whatsoever comes to pass.”

THREE MEANINGS

Theists espouse various meanings of omnipotent, almighty, or all-powerful. In this book, I address three common among scholars and laity. To say God is omnipotent typically means at least one of the following:

1. God exerts all power.

2. God can do absolutely anything.

3. God can control others or circumstances.[6]

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Some theists affirm one or two meanings but not all. Some reject the idea God exerts all power, for instance, but believe God can control others. Others say God can do anything but also say God doesn’t always control creatures. Many claim God can singlehandedly determine outcomes but cannot do what is illogical or self-contradictory. And it’s common for believers to say God is omnipotent but appeal to mystery when vexing questions arise.

CONCLUSION

I’d love to hear your questions, suggestions, and thoughts. Now that you know the general aim of the book, what issues should I be sure to address?

(I explain amipotence a bit in my book, Pluriform Love. Also, see this essay from Jay McDaniel.)

[1] Ruth Harms Calkin, “My God is so Big” (Permission to quote granted from Nuggets of Truth Publishing).

[2] Handel seems to be drawing from Revelation 19:6, which in Latin and in the King James Version of scripture is translated “omnipotent” but in most contemporary biblical translations is rendered “almighty.”

[3] Augustine, De Trinitate, IV 20, 27 (CChr.SL), 50, 197: “Quis est autem omnipotens, nisi qui omnia potest.” Despite this claim, Augustine also notes a number of things God cannot do.

[4] Theologians have explored the distinction between God’s potential power and the actual expression of divine power. See, for instance, Ian Robert Richardson, “Meister Eckhart’s Parisian Question of ‘Whether the omnipotence of God should be considered as potentia ordinata or potentia absoluta?” Doctoral Dissertation (King’s College London, 2002), 17.

[5] In previous writings, I’ve said we could rightly call God almighty in the senses. God is 1) the mightiest, 2) exerts might upon all, and 3) the source of might for all. Gijsbert Van Den Brink argues for “almightiness” over omnipotence in Almighty God: A Study of the Doctrine of Divine Omnipotence (Netherlands: Kok Pharos, 1993).

[6] By “control,” I mean acting as the sufficient cause of some creature, circumstance, or event. To describe such control, I use phrases like “singlehandedly decide outcomes,” “unilaterally determine,” or others that depict God as the sole cause. I will argue that God never has controlled and, in fact, cannot control others.

* * * * * * * *

Part 2

Omnipotence Not in Scripture

https://thomasjayoord.com/index.php/blog/archives/omnipotence-not-in-scripture

by Thomas Jay Oord

November 27th, 2022

I’m currently writing a book that rejects the doctrine of divine omnipotence. I’ll suggest a replacement I call divine amipotence – the power of love. I introduced the writing project in this previous blog essay.

One chapter in my book addresses God’s power described in what Christians call the Old and New Testaments. I’ll argue that omnipotence — even the Hebrew and Greek words often translated “almighty” or “all-powerful” — are not in the biblical texts.

God’s Power in Scripture

Authors of sacred writ describe a God who does amazing things, including creating the heavens and the earth, enacting miracles, providing salvation, and promising ultimate victory over evil. While English translators typically avoid “omnipotence” when translating Hebrew and Greek texts, they do use “almighty.” Many people believe biblical writers portray God as all-powerful.

Given this reading of scripture, Arthur Pink puts the significance of omnipotence this way: “If God were stunted in might and had a limit to His strength, we might well despair. But seeing that He is clothed with omnipotence, no prayer is too hard for Him to answer, no need too great for Him to supply, no passion too strong for Him to subdue, no temptation too powerful for Him to deliver from, no misery too deep for him to relieve.”[1]

According to many, only an omnipotent God can save.

The Hopelessness of Omnipotence

Omnipotence does not inspire hope in everyone, however. It leads many to despair and unbelief. To those who suffer, a God who can singlehandedly liberate seems asleep. Or this God doesn’t care enough to rescue the hurting from horrors and holocausts. Fervent prayers for healing go unanswered; cries for help from the sexually abused elicit few godly rescues.

Consequently, many people have no desire to live forever with a deity who allows evil now. An almighty God isn’t trustworthy.

I will argue that Christian scripture does not support omnipotence, at least as understood in the three ways I’ve identified. God doesn’t have all power, there are many things God cannot do, and God can’t control others.

Biblical authors talk about divine action, and they consider God’s power immense. But the Hebrew and Greek words translated “almighty,” “sovereign,” and the like support neither classic nor popular understandings of God as all-powerful.

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In fact, writers of scripture acknowledge limits to divine power. And they point to the role creatures play in bringing about outcomes.

Omnipotence isn’t born of scripture.

Issues to Address?

As you see it, what words, passages, or issues should I address when talking about God’s power described in Scripture?

[1] Arthur Pink, 67.