I Can Still Be A Christian: From Deconstruction to Rediscovery

I Can Still Be A Christian: From Deconstruction to Rediscovery

https://calebposton.com/i-can-still-be-a-christian-from-deconstruction-to-rediscovery-caf4c352d3a3

by Caleb Poston

April 8, 2022

If you’ve kept up with trends in Christianity for the past few years, you’ve seen one word pop up pretty often: deconstruction. Both the religious-political fallout of the Trump presidency and the Covid-19 pandemic led many evangelicals to re-evaluate their faith — for better or for worse. What it means: The tenets of the Christian faith you grew up believing are being challenged, either by science, philosophy, politics, or other external realities, and you are in the process of examining those tenets to see how they hold up to the evidence. Many of them fall apart — hence the “deconstruction” of your faith.

For many, this boils down to a simple change of opinion on a few topics, primarily political or social — rarely biblical in nature — and the central tenets of historic Christianity are left intact. That’s not deconstruction to me; it’s simply changing your mind.

For some, deconstruction is more of a transition of beliefs, either doctrinal or practical — think, a Baptist becomes an Anglican, a Catholic goes non-denominational, or any other scenario. It has changed, sometimes pretty significantly, but orthodoxy is untouched.

Still, for others, the comfort of orthodox Christianity is abandoned in favor of beliefs that many would regard as heretical — though the “h-word” is more often than not thrown around too liberally and usually baselessly.

After going through deconstruction, some formerly devout Christians even opt for various forms of atheism and agnosticism; some have even adopted beliefs that are more in line with Buddhism or other eastern religions.

Regardless, it’s rare that a Christian goes through deconstruction and ends up back at the starting point.

My Deconstruction: The First Stone

I didn’t know it until I heard the term a couple of years ago, but I’ve been deconstructing my faith for a while — more like demolishing, really.

It all started on a Monday evening at Huntsville Bible College back in 2010. We had to attend an eschatology conference as part of the requirements for a course on the Book of Daniel. The course was taught by an Assembly of God professor, so the content was from a dispensationalist perspective.

Being a Southern Baptist kid who was theologically weaned on Left Behind, you can imagine my shock when the speaker, the late Rev. Dr. Wayne P. Snodgrass (an amillennial Baptist), uttered these words: “I don’t deal with the rapture because the Bible doesn’t deal with the rapture.” I didn’t realize it then, but …

that’s when the first rock fell.

A Stonemason

I’m a stonemason. I have been for my entire life. My dad was one (the best in the South), and I’ve worked with him since I was 14 — and professionally for 10 years before becoming a teacher (and on the side now even though he is technically retired). I am very familiar with this idea of “deconstructing.”

A structure is not what it used to be; perhaps it was damaged by an external factor or had settled over the years — meaning it was outdated and could no longer function as it once did — so it needed to be taken down.

My dad, brothers, and I would handle stuff like this all the time: An old fence built by slaves or Irishmen in the 18th or 19th century was falling apart, so we were called in to repair it or repurpose the stones; an old chimney stood tall with the shell of the burned house collapsing around it, so we were asked to come in and take down the chimney to preserve the stones.

I can’t even guess how many days of my life have been spent reconstructing old fences like this. In fact, when I saw this image on Shutterstock, I genuinely thought for a moment that it was a job I had worked on.

When we take apart these old stone structures, a few things happen:

• First, we assess the structure to see how we should approach it so the process (1) is safe and (2) will preserve the most stones.

• Second, we examine each individual stone as we remove it to see if it goes in the “keep” pile or “discard” pile — all structures have at least some keepers, and some keepers are so good that they get their own pile.

• Third, we move the pile of keepers to a new spot and prepare for the reconstruction phase — or storage phase, depending on the owner’s needs.

Sometimes, stones in the middle fall out, and the structure is wobbling like a Jenga tower. Just a little pressure will cause it to collapse, so it is often best to safely push the whole thing down and sift through the pile of rocks on the ground.

Back to the Conference

That’s what happened to me at the eschatology conference back in 2010. My rapture stone was knocked out of the structure of my faith, which I thought was a strong tower; alas, it was a brittle post.

The problem: That stone was smack-dab in the middle, and my structure was now rocked (pun unintended), swaying back and forth and waiting for the next rock to fall out before, eventually, collapsing.

I pulled a Dante; I got on my ship and set sail on a journey for truth — though my goal was to find “truth” that fit my beliefs and proved Dr. Snodgrass wrong, so it was really more of a journey for vengeance. I searched far and wide for proof he was wrong. I examined the stone to see if it really was what I thought it was.

Well, as my stone structure was a brittle post, my ship was a plywood raft with a torn table cloth as the sail. I set sail into territories my childhood faith had me ill-prepared to encounter.

What did I learn?

• First, the rapture isn’t accepted by all or even the majority of Christians (that surprised me — I really thought it was the only option).

• Furthermore, the rapture was invented by a dude (John Nelson Darby) in the mid-late 1800s; I was never told that in church growing up, and Tim LaHaye never brought it up.

• Finally, I learned that the rapture isn’t even in the Bible. Talk about rocked! (pun intended that time)

Discovering on my journey that there are dozens of passages in the New Testament in which Jesus, Paul, Peter, James, and John believed the so-called “second coming” would occur within the lifetimes of many living in the first century AD really rattled my orthodoxy.

My church leaders conveniently skipped over those passages — while skipping over Josephus and the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70, which was a pretty significant event — or reinterpreted them to fit their belief system.

Then studying the symbolism and imagery of apocalyptic literature in the Bible, as well as the symbolism of the Temple, the New Heaven and New Earth, and my reinterpretation of the early chapters of Genesis, forced me to re-examine what would really transpire at “the end.”

I grew up believing that something like this was going
to happen to Earth — and probably in my lifetime.

My conclusions now are completely different from what I was raised to believe. In a nutshell, I believe the New Testament teaches — and history reflects — a completion of the prophetic clock in the Bible: We are in the Kingdom of Christ; the Savior has come and has indwelled his people. This is it, and that’s fine — we are still a Kingdom that should strive to make the world a better place that is more aligned with the core truth of the Gospel. Even if God does have a plan for the future (I don’t really think he does, but I digress), we don’t need to worry about it and would probably be better off if we acted like there is nothing on the prophetic horizon — it gives us more ownership and responsibility for the world’s problems.

As I said, I don’t believe how I was raised to believe, but even if I had come to the same conclusions, on my own, I still would have been pissed. Why would they hide such a treasure trove of theology from me? Were they scared?

I then thought, “What else did my church leaders hide from me? What else about my faith is wrong, or at least incomplete?”

Starting Over

That’s where René Descartes comes in. He said in A Discourse on the Method, and I paraphrase, to never accept anything that was not introduced there by reason. I realized that I didn’t really believe anything I thought I believed; I simply accepted what I had been taught and didn’t question it. I never gave any of the ideas and doctrines time to say I believed them. I simply signed the dotted line on the statement of faith and moved on with my faith.

Descartes also said to erase everything you have been taught so you can examine everything, individually, without the distraction of assumptions. That’s hard to do. But as Isaac Asimov said,

“Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light won’t come in.”

I started scrubbing and declared to myself, “You know what? I got a little time — I got my whole life to figure this out. I’m gonna push the whole thing down and see what survives.”

It was a mess at the beginning — rocks everywhere! But I had a hammer and chisel and a little experience, so I started chipping away one at a time. It’s hard to describe just how many stones are in a structure, and they all play an important role, but some are more important than others …

Filler Stones

Growing up in the buckle of the Bible belt meant that everyone around me was a Christian. In Lynchburg, where I grew up and still live, people typically are either Baptist or church of Christ. We even have some who are called Baptist Church of Christ since they can’t make up their minds (actually, they are unrelated to the restoration movement and are their own thing, but that’s irrelevant to this specific post).

Beyond Baptist and church of Christ folk, there ain’t much. We have some Methodists, of course, but I didn’t know a Presbyterian church was in Lynchburg until I was in my late 20s, and the only Pentecostal church nearby is about a quarter mile into Lincoln County (instead of Moore, where Lynchburg is). I’m assuming they set up shop there so people wouldn’t think they were just drunk on the local product (Jack Daniel’s). Not really. They are great people — just hyper.

Anyway, living here meant that Christian faith was a part of every day life, not just a Sunday gathering. In high school, my friends were either lukewarm Baptists or church of Christ zealots. I remember riding on the school bus to and from baseball games; we would pass the time by having theological debates. I, a Baptist at the time, would argue with my church of Christ teammates about issues like whether music should be used in church, if communion should be weekly, or if one must be baptized to be saved.

One thing I concede now (but wouldn’t even consider admitting then) is that they were far more prepared to defend their beliefs than I was. I held my own because I always find a way, even if I’m knowingly BS’ing. But it’s like their “elders,” as they called them (we even argued the terminology of pastor vs. elder), would hold a weekly class dedicated to debating Baptists — or at least knowing church of Christ doctrine inside and out. It made sense because most of them believed they were the only ones who had the truth and a one-way ticket to Heaven. I don’t think (I hope not) many believe that way anymore.

Those issues are now trivial to me. So when I knocked down my structure, those stones were placed in the “deal with later” pile. Sure, they are important (all doctrine is), but they didn’t seem as important to me when I decided to grab a hammer and chisel and really get my hands dirty with this deconstruction thing. They almost seemed irrelevant altogether, like the filler stones we use when we are building something — little stones used to fill in gaps. They have to be there, but they don’t seem as important as the ones out front for all to see, or those on the foundation.

I have ideas and thoughts about these doctrines now, but I wouldn’t have these ideas without spending more time with the other, more important stones. Other stones in this pile include things like women in ministry (I’m all for it, for the record), drinking alcohol (yes, that’s an issue even in whiskey country), Calvinism vs. Arminianism (I think both are annoying), and other issues commonly debated in the church today — to no avail.

The Second Stone

The second stone that really challenged me — on the same level, if not higher, than the eschatology stone — was the origins stone. It seemed natural and appropriate: I examined the end; now I must examine the beginning.

Just as Left Behind shaped my eschatology, Henry Morris and creation “science” shaped my view of origins. The idea that God created the world in six literal days was not something I thought was even debated in Christianity — in the academy, the Church, or anywhere else.

The only ones who disputed that truth were the atheistic evolutionists. Evolution was simply a tool of Satan and a conspiracy by atheist scientists to discredit God. That isn’t what I believed; that was reality — there wasn’t a chance to disbelieve it. The same goes for Noah’s Ark, Adam and Eve, etc. I was taught that to deny these ideas was to deny God.

I didn’t question these ideas until I really read into them.

Promises

There used to be a Christian bookstore in Lynchburg that was owned by some friends of mine (and people I went to church with for several years). It was called Promises. I would go in often as I was a single guy then; I was probably 18 or 19 and was starting to accept the “calling” to ministry.

I would check out all the study Bibles (and buy some). I would check out some of the theology books. Mostly, I would take a “Moses” staff they were selling and pretend to be Gandalf. “You shall not pass! … unless you accept Jesus Christ as your lord and savior” is probably something I would have said at that point in my life.

Like most bookstores, especially Christian ones, Promises went out of business. I left that store for the last time with some goodies: the Gandalf staff (I figured it was fate, and it still sits in my classroom, ready to be used to tell students that “they shall not pass”) and three study Bibles — the NKJV Chronological Study Bible, the NIV Archaeological Study Bible, and, most notably, the New Defender’s Study Bible by Henry Morris. I started digging …

After thoroughly studying Henry Morris’ study Bible, especially its essays, I thought, “What the heck is this crap? Why does my church believe this?” I discovered that young earth creationism (the viewpoint I thought was known as simply “biblical”) is very weak. Here is Henry Morris, the Father of Young Earth Creationism, and he is forcing everything he needs to support his belief.

I can’t remember the details, and I’ve since given the Bible away (on accident — I wish I still had it), but I remember sitting on my bed late at night, reading his essays, and thinking that Morris had a very desperate tone. He didn’t come to conclusions, either biblical or scientific, because the evidence took him there; he came to conclusions because he had to.

This part of the Bible causes a lot of problems for Christians, especially
if they get involved, in any way, with the science vs. religion debate

I decided to ignore origins for a while as I was about to begin Bible college. So this stone, although loosened a bit, was still in some way intact for a while — I hadn’t thoroughly examined it yet.

Fast forward a few years … after my rapture stone was knocked out of place and I decided to examine everything …

I eventually came back to origins. I first dipped my toes in science. I had never given evolution the time of day. We were told to ignore our science teacher, and some of us even rebelled by answering incorrectly (on purpose) any question that had anything to do with the Big Bang or evolution. But when I was older and had no pressure to ignore it, I was able to examine it without fear of it conflicting with my faith.

What I found shocked me: The “science” I was taught in church did not match the science taught by … well, actual scientists. And these scientists weren’t only atheists and anti-Christians as I had been taught; many were Christians who believed in a creator God. And they followed evidence instead of fabricating it. I knew that, once again, my childhood leaders led me astray in an important doctrine, and I had to go back to the biblical text to see what went wrong.

At this point, I was aided by scholars like Leland Ryken and John H. Walton, among others. Ryken opened up the world of biblical literature to me. I was a literature guy: I studied Tolkien, Middle English literature, poetry, and science fiction. Literature was (and is) basically “my thing.”

However, I approached the Bible with the assumption that it was written in a vacuum — that it was written by God himself and unlike anything else ever written. These guys helped me see that it was not; it is literature — ancient literature, even if it is inspired by God. And this ancient literature contains literary devices and styles that are not used anymore.

Therefore, I (and apparently my church leaders) missed them. We interpreted Genesis 1 (and 1–11) literally because (1) we, like I said, assumed that the Bible was written in a vacuum, and (2) we didn’t know what type of literature was actually present in the opening chapters of Genesis.

Following rabbit trails helped me discover the literature of Genesis. One of the first literary topics I discovered (from Walton’s Lost World series especially) is also something completely avoided by most evangelical churches: ancient near eastern literature.

You’ll never hear those words in a Southern Baptist church.

Why?

It scares them

There are too many similarities between ancient near eastern literature and biblical literature, and the dates and geographic locations also make them too connected for comfort. They wrote about their gods in similar ways, and they used many of the same literary styles.

I started to realize that the Bible is not a book of science. The Bible’s science does not match reality. But with the assumption that God wrote the Bible still deeply embedded in my emotions (albeit not in my intellect), that was a problem.

I knew that young earth creationism was bogus; I knew that I really couldn’t even fit modern science into the Bible without some extreme gymnastics, as performed by men like Hugh Ross. There had to be another way, a way that took both the Bible and modern science seriously.

Publishing

At this point (late 2019-early 2020), I started McGahan Publishing House, and I was looking to publish a book on Christian faith and science. I emailed Loren Haarsma, husband to Deborah Haarsma (president of BioLogos), and he referred me to someone who seemed too qualified for my new publishing company, but it worked out for us.

Denis Lamoureux has PhDs in theology and biology — as well as dentistry. As a trained theologian and biologist, he seemed like the perfect prospect for a book on religion and science. With his academic credentials and publishing history — several books by notable publishers, such as Zondervan, and dozens of academic articles — I assumed he was out of our league as we still had not published a book at that point.

But Denis and I hit it off, published two books, including this excellent one, and have plans for more. He liked our independence, both professionally and intellectually — we are free to explore ideas that frighten other publishers, such as the Adam and Eve story not being literal history. Publishing his work and having conversations with him have enabled me to spend even more time examining the origins issue, form connections with others in the field, and discover other thinkers and ideas in science and religion.

This led me to solidify the stances toward which I was already leaning:

• Evolution is true - like it or not.

• The global flood of Noah never happened.

• The earth is billions of years old.

• Adam and Eve were most likely not the first humans on the earth — if they even existed.

• The Bible is not a book of science.

But that’s okay, for the Bible still reveals a God who wants to commune with his greatest creation and image bearers.

And that’s what matters — having a spiritual life in which a personal relationship with God is the most important goal of a Christian.

The Third Stone — God

I thought I had it all figured out. I had the end figured out; I had the beginning figured out — the rest would fall into place. Then, at the bottom of the pile of stones sat the most important stone of all …

the cornerstone.

I thought this one was safe, but it wasn’t. It was a major stumbling block for me.

When I encountered the cornerstone during my deconstruction, it was during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, and …

the pandemic changed me.

I started thinking a lot more about pain, suffering, and death. I wasn’t scared of dying from Covid. I was relatively low-risk, and I had it — twice. I had the OG Covid before being vaccinated and then the omicron variant after being fully vaccinated. They were both very mild for me.

However, I noticed the people who had different experiences. I saw people I care about die from it. I saw friends and acquaintances lose their spouses, parents, cousins, and grandparents. I heard about children dying from it.

That made me think about death and suffering regarding more than just Covid.

I started thinking about the 6-year old boy who drowned while on a family vacation in Florida.

I started thinking about the poor kids (in America and around the globe) suffering from hunger and extreme poverty.

I started thinking about the innocent children at St. Jude’s suffering from cancer.

I started thinking about the child victims of mass shootings.

I thought about the 12-year old boy who committed suicide because he was being bullied in school.

I started doubting God’s involvement in the world.

There is no doubt that the little 6-year old’s family was praying for a miracle, yet his lifeless body is what they found.

There is little doubt that impoverished families across the globe pray for God’s hand to intervene and feed them, yet he never comes.

Parents spend hours at the chapel altar praying for their child who has cancer, only to plan a funeral a few weeks or months later.

Every time I see a tragic story of a child or innocent person dying or suffering for no reason, I get angry. I get sad, and I sometimes cry when I’m alone, partly because it goes against everything I’m supposed to believe about an all-loving God, and partly because I project all of that suffering onto my own family and children.

I project my wife onto the young, vibrant woman who dies from Covid.

I project my children onto the little boy and girl who just lost their mommy or daddy because the ventilator malfunctioned.

I project my son onto the little baby at St. Jude’s who has no hope of survival and is suffering for no reason.

I can’t help but to think about my 6-year old daughter when I hear about the 6-year old boy who drowns — all alone and scared.

I ask, “Where are you, God?”

He never answers.

Where is God? Why can he not do more? And if he can, why doesn’t he?

The young parent of two little girls who dies from Covid because the ventilator malfunctioned — why couldn’t God prevent that from happening? No one would have known because no one thought it was broken. It was SUPPOSED TO WORK.

Why does the innocent boy at St. Jude’s, who just loves Batman and Iron Man or trucks and tractors, have to get cancer in the first place?

Why can’t God, with barely a movement, rescue the 6-year old? No one would know he did it — he wouldn’t be exposed.

Why can’t he drop some manna from Heaven to the impoverished families? Did he not do it for the Hebrews in the wilderness?

Why can’t God make a gun jam before a deranged person kills innocent children? Gun jams happen without God’s intervention!

It makes no sense. Lex Luthor seemed to be on to something:

If God is all-powerful, he cannot be all-good.

If God is all-good, he cannot be all-powerful.

Sometimes, I think I understand it, or am at peace with it, but then I just hear about someone else, someone innocent and beautiful, who dies or suffers for no reason — and with no “god” to help them. And many of these are Christian people who are suffering, people who are called “his children.” No father would let his children suffer if he had the power to step in.

I felt myself drifting toward atheism.

I didn’t like that feeling. I had devoted so much of my life to preparation for ministry. I have lived my entire life with my Christian faith as the most important thing. Giving it all up would have huge ramifications. At one point, some felt that I had a bright future in Baptist ministry. And what would it do to my family? I couldn’t even consider that. Maybe I’ll just lie about it, I thought.

I didn’t know of another way. I didn’t think there was a type of theism, especially Christian theism, that would accommodate my doubts.

Then I realized …

What if it’s not God I’m angry with, but the version of God I was raised to believe in?

I noticed that the cornerstone was the toughest of all. My chisel and hammer made some markings on it, but I couldn’t break it. It was chosen as the cornerstone for a reason — it’s tough; it’s strong enough to withstand the mightiest of strokes, and I was swinging my hammer as hard as I ever have. However, my strikes were unable to break the cornerstone because …

The stone I was striking didn’t really exist.

God is not confined to the worldview within which I framed him. My assumptions about God were assumptions I didn’t erase before going on my journey. The fog was still there.

What if we are misinterpreting God altogether?

What if God is something much different than what is defined in typical statements of faith?

What if God is something, someone much more personal?

What if our interpretation of God depends on our view of origins, or our eschatology?

What if Christian theology is a huge mess, and our idea of God is just as messy as anything else?

The idea that a transcendent, omnipresent God is out there intervening in the world, answering prayers, and unfolding a plan just simply does not match reality. There is no evidence to suggest otherwise.

But people, myself included, still experience God! What do we make of that? Human experience should matter. And in my experience, God is there; God is real. He might not intervene in ways I used to believe, but …

• he changes lives

• he inspires people to do great things

• he brings people together.

God is not without; he is within. God is not an outside force that acts for people; God is a force that acts through people — the people in whom the Spirit of God has dwelt.

The New Structure

None of the options worked for me. I was at the stone supply shop, and none of the samples fit what I had going on. And with my OCD, I had to have something — a theological system that works.

So, I decided to take my stones and build my own.

A new system that makes sense to me …

With my faith structure, I would hold myself accountable: If the world around me isn’t improving, I can blame only myself.

Instead of choosing to see God in the disaster, I choose to see God in the relief — through his people working in God’s name to help those in dire need.

Instead of praying for God to act from the outside, I pray for God to activate me from the inside.

If I can’t change the world, God can motivate me to change someone’s perception of the world. That is often as simple as saying, “Hello! How are you?” It is often as simple as giving someone a sandwich.

That should be what Christian faith is all about.

And then, I discovered some Christian thinkers I had heard about but not really given the time of day: open and relational theologians — men like Thomas Jay Oord, John Cobb, and others.

They believe and teach basically what I believe and teach, especially the parts about how God interacts in the world.

They believe in God and experience God in their lives, but they understand that life sometimes sucks, and although God doesn’t intervene as an outside force to make the world better, he does indwell us and encourage responses from us that will make the world better.

They believe and teach that though prayer does not change the circumstances around us, it does change us.

And I can work from that.

That’s where I’m working from now — using what I have learned biblically, experientially, and theologically to develop this system into something that works for me.

And I think it’s gonna work.

For the first time in a few years, I can honestly say something I wasn’t confident I would ever again be able to say …

I can still be a Christian.

How An Evangelical Christian Gained A Processual World View

How An Evangelical Christian Gained

A Processual World View

by R.E. Slater

*Occasionally I try to personalize my Christian faith so that other

fellow travellers might gain a sense of spirit struggle, rhythm and flow.

A Comment from an Outside Observer:

With regard to the two courses you mentioned that are not on the list, we did discuss them briefly. We did have a lecture that related to process theology this past year [sic, Open and Relational Theology]. Judging by the reaction to that lecture, I am not convinced that the course on Whitehead and process philosophy/theology will draw sufficient interest.

Process theology has been present for a century and it has also been prevalent in some discussions with regard to evolutionary biology. If we were to offer the course, then I would suggest an instructor for the course who could provide an analysis of the process theology for our audience, but I am not convinced it would draw sufficient interest to put it in the program.

With regard to 'black theology', I find that rather nebulous. Perhaps you are thinking of something similar to 'liberation theology'. In some ways we addressed this in a course last Fall (Reconstruction: Shackled Liberty) which presented some good issues that black preachers and churches made during the time of slavery and the reconstruction period. Otherwise I am not sure that is what you were thinking of. 

- Anon

My Thoughts:

Thank you for your candid response. For some time now I've been working on a new Christian voice. It’s taken 35 years for me to get to this point - though I only recently started writing about it these past 9 or 10 years.

And yes, to present an unfamiliar subject to Christian learners would be unfair as I know firsthand the turmoil it can cause when the Lord, by His Spirit, led me into a deep, black hole. A wilderness of God’s own making. It took some 11 months before my soul could return to the land of the living. Except for the Lord’s merciful grace who lifted me above the stormy waters to quiet my soul when I could have too easily gone the “None and Done” route.

He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the mud; And He set my feet on a rock, making my footsteps firm, (Psalm 40.2, NASB)

But retreat was never an option. God wanted me here, not there. I had only one choice and that was to obey the Spirit’s leading. More curiously, when arising from a miry pit of destruction, I had a very clear sense of where God wanted me to go.  I felt like the Apostle Paul whose eyes became blinded on the Damascus Road only to learn to see again more clearly than he ever had in the past.

Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; and leading him by the hand, they brought him into Damascus. (Acts 9.8, NASB)

In counterpoint, I can attest that what I have been exploring is the most right direction to go, not only for myself but also as a newer expression for Christianity. I had to first deconstruct, then reconstruct, my traditionally modern faith heritage. A faith heritage consisting of denominationally conservative, Evangelically-Reformed (Baptist) precedents (20 years) which also included 27 years of prior worship in the faith lands of Fundamentalist Christianity. After a lifetime of study and ministry (M.Div., Biblical Theology) I know both sides well.

I also had sensed probably as far back as my seminary days my denominational faith’s unhealthy change as an institution as it's rising demographic trended further and further away from Christ in its actions and words of defiance. Especially as a  secular religious mindset crept in denying the rights and basic needs of others. This bothered me a lot and went against all my Christian training and attitudes about God's love.

This sixth sense of spirituality became heightened with my later church experience within Emergent Christianity which last 20 years. From that latter fellowship my faith gradually gave way to a post-evangelic, progressive Christian expression into a more livable Christian epistemic worldview.

From my prior Upper Room Spirit-chambers until this present hour, I knew then what I know now... I needed to write of a new Christianity. One which would help provide secularized Christianity a way out from itself. One with a more contemporary, postmodernal orthodox expression of itself. Over the years it came to mean a Christian faith founded upon the philosophic theology of Whitehead’s "Philosophy of Organism" (e.g., Process Philosophy and Theology (PPT)). It was the only tenable direction to go as all other hermeneutical theologies and directions I had reviewed were too limiting, resulting in unhelpful apologies for Westernized forms of Christian expression.

Arminianism (sic, modern day Wesleyanism) was the way out of the deep conflicts and burdens strangling my soul. At which point I plowed under the beautiful Calvinist garden of Tulips I had grown for years and replanted fields and fields of common Daisies. Later, I came to see Wesleyanism's more modern expression epitomized in the theology of Open and Relational Theology (ORT).

It was ORT which proved the steadier road to process theology gained from Arminianism's “biblical” or “biblically systematic” resurrection rather than from the philosophic direction of process thought (which I am now presently learning). But I also knew I couldn't stop at Arminianism like my previous mentor did, Arminian theologian Roger Olson. Why? Because even old-line Arminianism was still contained well-inside the modern Westernized forms of Hellenized Platonism.

Like Jesus’ gospel needing newer wineskins which could expand to hold  the good wine being poured out from His atoning sacrifice, I knew by replacing the (White/European) Westernization of the Gospel, I either had to move towards the narratival structure of Continental Philosophy or some intermix of Eastern philosophies.

36 ...And He [Jesus] was telling them a parable: “No one tears a piece of cloth from a new garment and puts it on an old garment; otherwise he will both tear the new, and the patch from the new garment will not match the old. 37 And no one pours new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the new wine will burst the skins and it will be spilled out, and the skins will be ruined. 38 But new wine must be put into fresh wineskins. 39 And no one, after drinking old wine wants new; for he says, ‘The old is fine.’” (Luke 5.36-39, NASB)

Fortunately, even as I had been developing ORT on my own before knowing of others who were writing of it, I was also writing myself towards a process version of Whiteheadian thought expressed many, many years earlier in the 1910s and 1920s. I sensed then that this newer direction was ably erasing the theological borders holding Jesus' redemptive fullness and power back - including the church's ascription to its Christian faith. And that those theologic borders contained in older wineskins of creeds and legacies must give way, as they should, to a superior integral philosophy which was flowing over-and-around all other previous  beliefs, disciplines and directions, including all of the world’s religions (which is also why PPT is an integral philosophical theology)

Process philosophy will be what future cosmoecological civilizations will be built upon whether they know it or not. To it will be tomorrow’s technologies, biologies, economies, and social sciences. As example, I joined a Quantum Logic forum with seasoned quantum physicists this past March and to my surprise found that as late as the 60’s process thought was being woven into quantum research. Amazing!

Now perhaps the best I can expect from a Christian university's philosophic and cultural limitations is that it is willing struggle with how to read the bible so that God’s love becomes the center of outreach and ministry. I applaud those efforts. I see this across many private conservative colleges dedicated to conservatism. The ones seeking to set the Spirit free in all directions. The most recent case was the one I participated in at a Christian forum held at Indian University last week which included evangelical Christians speaking out against White Christian Nationalism. I couldn’t have been prouder of these voices as they dissented against those Christian churches, congregations, and institutions supporting white supremacy and anti-BLM (Black Lives Matter) campaigns.

Sadly, and with regrets to black theology, I just haven’t had time to develop it from the Black Theologian, James Cone’s, perspective. It’s a future project I hope to achieve at some later date. But there are many articles at Relevancy22 on Christian Humanism (an older term for = social justice) and another large section under Social Justice gained from America's recent past years of religious-political racism. And yes, Black Theology does run in-and-around the following Christian subjects of Liberation Theology, Feminism, Queer Theology (yes, God loves the trans- people too), and Intersectional Theology.

Even though I don’t think Whitehead should be ignored by conservative Christians, it’s “radicalness” can, and should, upset the older, faithful generations of believers trained to think in parochially prescribed ways. However, my websites are not intended for my generation or the generations older or immediately younger than myself. I write for the Christian torchbearers of Generation Y (e.g., Gen X = Millennials, seem to be half-and-half onboard with spiritual re-examination of Christianity as they enter their 30’s). Yet younger minds seem more readily able to grasp foreign subject material.

As an example of older Christians willing to reflect on theology's direction I noticed Peter Enns, a Facebook friend of mine, is grappling with Process Thought. Yet his focus by training and interest is on the OT bible ala the theologic context of Progressive, Evangelical Christianity. It probably will stay that way but it’s heartening to see some older theologs willing to interact with newer ideas.

I also had noticed my Arminian Baptist Theologian friend, Roger Olson, take a step back-or-two from his rash surmise of process relational panentheism expressed in his earlier thoughts against it. (As an aside, perhaps I and other Christians like Tripp Fuller, helped motivate Roger to dial it down a bit).

I also suspect that Roger’s close friend, Clark Pinnock, would be right in the thick of things with other process theologians had he lived long enough. Pinnock's theology was always one of exploration towards good, solid biblical themes, even as his latter interest was spilling into open theology (I’m not sure if he had joined it with it's natural corollary, relational theology or not; but I think not).

And though I no longer think of evangelicalism as “biblical”  constricted as it is by its cultural messaging, I do think of it as a gate-keeper which will surely crumble as newer generations arise who, like me, see that traditional Platonic Christianity’s artificial barriers of the “eternal impassable object” can no longer withstand a God who declares, “I AM who I AM BECOMING.” A (process) relational theology which informs us that even as our own human character may stay somewhat the same throughout our lifetimes, our experiences and relationships mold us as a transitioning people living out each day moment-by-moment in our non-static, transactional lives.

Hence, I would expect God to be as much, and more, than we are. And more specifically, His creation - of which God is a superior other ( = panentheism) and in His Being is an immanent, integral part of - provides God with enriching experiences as a transitioning, transactional, passable deity that is also neither a non-static divine Being, nor impassable object.

Consequently, even as God is a part of each concreasing moment of creation's processual transactions, it is also a creation which ever leans towards goodness, wellbeing, and valuative relationships centered in God’s love. So too is God’s divine Being eternally evolving and ever-and-always Becoming… flowing… growing… enriching… with every new concreasing cosmic moment as those novel moments present themselves to God.

And so we say incorrectly as we stretch fingers and palms skyward, “Lord Come,” when God has already come in Christ (forget all the implied eschatological schemas here… none apply in process theology). More correctly, our response should be, “Even so, Lord BECOME… through us and through your creation to your glory, and honor, Hallelujah!”

Since I’m preaching, I’ll quit. Links provided below...

Your brother in Christ who continues to need prayer and fellowship,

R.E. Slater
August 26, 2021

REFERENCE LINKS

• Index - Process Philosophy & Theology

• Monica A. Colemann - Why Go Process?

• What Is Intersectional Theology? Let's Find Out.
• (there are only four articles here; not enough to do it justice)

• Forums for Diversity (a few more articles here)

• INDEX - American Politics and the Church

• Index - Open & Relational Process Theology
• (the quickest and easiest way to ORT is through Tom Oord. My stuff says the same stuff in a different way but I decided to use his voice to round out contemporary Wesleyanism)

PROCESS THEOLOGY

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Not to be confused with Process Church.

According to Cobb, "process theology may refer to all forms of theology that emphasize event, occurrence, or becoming over substance. In this sense theology influenced by Hegel is process theology just as much as that influenced by Whitehead. This use of the term calls attention to affinities between these otherwise quite different traditions."^[2][3] Also Pierre Teilhard de Chardin can be included among process theologians,^[4] even if they are generally understood as referring to the Whiteheadian/Hartshornean school, where there continue to be ongoing debates within the field on the nature of God, the relationship of God and the world, and immortality.For both Whitehead and Hartshorne, it is an essential attribute of God to affect and be affected by temporal processes, contrary to the forms of theism that hold God to be in all respects non-temporal (eternal), unchanging (immutable), and unaffected by the world (impassible). Process theology does not deny that God is in some respects eternal (will never die), immutable (in the sense that God is unchangingly good), and impassible (in the sense that God's eternal aspect is unaffected by actuality), but it contradicts the classical view by insisting that God is in some respects temporal, mutable, and passible.^[1]

History

Various theological and philosophical aspects have been expanded and developed by Charles Hartshorne (1897–2000), John B. Cobb, Jr., Eugene H. Peters, and David Ray Griffin.^[5] A characteristic of process theology each of these thinkers shared was a rejection of metaphysics that privilege "being" over "becoming", particularly those of Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas.^[6] Hartshorne was deeply influenced by French philosopher Jules Lequier and by Swiss philosopher Charles Secrétan who were probably the first ones to claim that in God liberty of becoming is above his substantiality.

Process theology soon influenced a number of Jewish theologians including Rabbis Max Kadushin, Milton Steinberg and Levi A. Olan, Harry Slominsky and, to a lesser degree, Abraham Joshua Heschel. Today some rabbis who advocate some form of process theology include Bradley Shavit Artson, Lawrence A. Englander, William E. Kaufman, Harold Kushner, Anson Laytner, Michael Lerner, Gilbert S. Rosenthal, Lawrence Troster, Donald B. Rossoff, Burton Mindick, and Nahum Ward.

Alan Anderson and Deb Whitehouse have applied process theology to the New Thought variant of Christianity.

The work of Richard Stadelmann has been to preserve the uniqueness of Jesus in process theology.

God and the World relationship

Whitehead's classical statement is a set of antithetical statements that attempt to avoid self-contradiction by shifting them from a set of oppositions into a contrast:

• It is as true to say that God is permanent and the World fluent, as that the World is permanent and God is fluent.
• It is as true to say that God is one and the World many, as that the World is one and God many.
• It is as true to say that, in comparison with the World, God is actual eminently, as that, in comparison with God, the World is actual eminently.
• It is as true to say that the World is immanent in God, as that God is immanent in the World.
• It is as true to say that God transcends the World, as that the World transcends God.
• It is as true to say that God creates the World, as that the World creates God.^[7]

Themes

• God is not omnipotent in the sense of being coercive. The divine has a power of persuasion rather than coercion. Process theologians interpret the classical doctrine of omnipotence as involving force, and suggest instead a forbearance in divine power. "Persuasion" in the causal sense means that God does not exert unilateral control.^[8]
• Reality is not made up of material substances that endure through time, but serially-ordered events, which are experiential in nature. These events have both a physical and mental aspect. All experience (male, female, atomic, and botanical) is important and contributes to the ongoing and interrelated process of reality.
• The universe is characterized by process and change carried out by the agents of free will. Self-determination characterizes everything in the universe, not just human beings. God cannot totally control any series of events or any individual, but God influences the creaturely exercise of this universal free will by offering possibilities. To say it another way, God has a will in everything, but not everything that occurs is God's will.^[9]
• God contains the universe but is not identical with it (panentheism, not pantheism or pandeism). Some also call this "theocosmocentrism" to emphasize that God has always been related to some world or another.
• Because God interacts with the changing universe, God is changeable (that is to say, God is affected by the actions that take place in the universe) over the course of time. However, the abstract elements of God (goodness, wisdom, etc.) remain eternally solid.
• Charles Hartshorne believes that people do not experience subjective (or personal) immortality, but they do have objective immortality because their experiences live on forever in God, who contains all that was. Other process theologians believe that people do have subjective experience after bodily death.^[10]
• Dipolar theism is the idea that God has both a changing aspect (God's existence as a Living God) and an unchanging aspect (God's eternal essence).^[11]

Relationship to liberation theology

Henry Young combines Black theology and Process theology in his book Hope in Process. Young seeks a model for American society that goes beyond the alternatives of integration of Blacks into white society and Black separateness. He finds useful the process model of the many becoming one. Here the one is a new reality that emerges from the discrete contributions of the many, not the assimilation of the many to an already established one.^[12]

Monica Coleman has combined Womanist theology and Process theology in her book Making a Way Out of No Way. In it, she argues that 'making a way out of no way' and 'creative transformation' are complementary insights from the respective theological traditions. She is one of many theologians who identify both as a process theologian and feminist/womanist/ecofeminist theologian, which includes persons such as Sallie McFague, Rosemary Radford Ruether, and Marjorie Hewitt Suchocki.^[13][14]

C. Robert Mesle, in his book Process Theology, outlines three aspects of a process theology of liberation:^[15]

1. There is a relational character to the divine which allows God to experience both the joy and suffering of humanity. God suffers just as those who experience oppression and God seeks to actualize all positive and beautiful potentials. God must, therefore, be in solidarity with the oppressed and must also work for their liberation.
2. God is not omnipotent in the classical sense and so God does not provide support for the status quo, but rather seeks the actualization of greater good.
3. God exercises relational power and not unilateral control. In this way God cannot instantly end evil and oppression in the world. God works in relational ways to help guide persons to liberation.

Relationship to pluralism

Process theology affirms that God is working in all persons to actualize potentialities. In that sense each religious manifestation is the Divine working in a unique way to bring out the beautiful and the good. Additionally, scripture and religion represent human interpretations of the divine. In this sense pluralism is the expression of the diversity of cultural backgrounds and assumptions that people use to approach the Divine.^[16]

Relationship to the doctrine of the incarnation

Further information: Incarnation (Christianity)

Contrary to Christian orthodoxy, the Christ of mainstream process theology is not the mystical and historically exclusive union of divine and human natures in one hypostasis, the eternal Logos of God uniquely enfleshed in and identifiable as the man Jesus. Rather God is incarnate in the lives of all people when they act according to a call from God. Jesus fully and in every way responded to God's call, thus the person of Jesus is theologically understood as "the divine Word in human form." Jesus is not singularly or essentially God, but he was perfectly synchronized to God at all moments of life.^[17] Cobb expressed the Incarnation in process terms that link it to his understanding of actualization of human potential: "'Christ' refers to the Logos as incarnate hence as the process of creative transformation in and of the world".

Debate about process theology's conception of God’s power

A criticism of process theology is that it offers a too severely diminished conception of God’s power. Process theologians argue that God does not have unilateral, coercive control over everything in the universe. In process theology, God cannot override a person’s freedom, nor perform miracles that violate the laws of nature, nor perform physical actions such as causing or halting a flood or an avalanche. Critics argue that this conception diminishes divine power to such a degree that God is no longer worshipful.^{[5][18][19][20][21]}

The process theology response to this criticism is that the traditional Christian conception of God is actually not worshipful as it stands, and that the traditional notion of God’s omnipotence fails to make sense.^[22]

First, power is a relational concept. It is not exerted in a vacuum, but always by some entity A over some other entity B.^[23] As such, power requires analysis of both the being exerting power, and the being that power is being exerted upon. To suppose that an entity A (in this case, God), can always successfully control any other entity B is to say, in effect, that B does not exist as a free and individual being in any meaningful sense, since there is no possibility of its resisting A if A should decide to press the issue.^[24]

Mindful of this, process theology makes several important distinctions between different kinds of power. The first distinction is between "coercive" power and "persuasive" power.^[25] Coercive power is the kind that is exerted by one physical body over another, such as one billiard ball hitting another, or one arm twisting another. Lifeless bodies (such as the billiard balls) cannot resist such applications of physical force at all, and even living bodies (like arms) can only resist so far, and can be coercively overpowered. While finite, physical creatures can exert coercive power over one another in this way, God—lacking a physical body—cannot (not merely will not) exert coercive control over the world.^[26]

But process theologians argue that coercive power is actually a secondary or derivative form of power, while persuasion is the primary form.^[25] Even the act of self-motion (of an arm, for instance) is an instance of persuasive power. The arm may not perform in the way a person wishes it to—it may be broken, or asleep, or otherwise unable to perform the desired action. It is only after the persuasive act of self-motion is successful that an entity can even begin to exercise coercive control over other finite physical bodies. But no amount of coercive control can alter the free decisions of other entities; only persuasion can do so.^[27]

For example, a child is told by his parent that he must go to bed. The child, as a self-conscious, decision-making individual, can always make the decision to not go to bed. The parent may then respond by picking up the child bodily and carrying him to his room, but nothing can force the child to alter his decision to resist the parent's directive. It is only the body of the child that can be coercively controlled by the body of the physically stronger parent; the child's free will remains intact. While process theologians argue that God does not have coercive power, they also argue that God has supreme persuasive power, that God is always influencing/persuading us to choose the good.

One classic exchange over the issue of divine power is between philosophers Frederick Sontag and John K. Roth and process theologian David Ray Griffin.^[28] Sontag and Roth argued that the process God’s inability to, for instance, stop the genocide at Auschwitz meant that God was not worthy of worship, since there is no point in worshipping a God that cannot save us from such atrocities. Griffin's response was as follows:

One of the stronger complaints from Sontag and Roth is that, given the enormity of evil in the world, a deity that is [merely] doing its best is not worthy of worship. The implication is that a deity that is not doing its best is worthy of worship. For example, in reference to Auschwitz, Roth mocks my God with the statement that “the best that God could possibly do was to permit 10,000 Jews a day to go up in smoke.” Roth prefers a God who had the power to prevent this Holocaust but did not do it! This illustrates how much people can differ in what they consider worthy of worship. For Roth, it is clearly brute power that evokes worship. The question is: is this what should evoke worship? To refer back to the point about revelation: is this kind of power worship consistent with the Christian claim that divinity is decisively revealed in Jesus? Roth finds my God too small to evoke worship; I find his too gross.^[28]

The process argument, then, is that those who cling to the idea of God's coercive omnipotence are defending power for power's sake, which would seem to be inconsistent with the life of Jesus, who Christians believe died for humanity's sins rather than overthrow the Roman empire. Griffin argues that it is actually the God whose omnipotence is defined in the "traditional" way that is not worshipful.^[28]

One other distinction process theologians make is between the idea of "unilateral" power versus "relational" power.^[29] Unilateral power is the power of a king (or more accurately, a tyrant) who wishes to exert control over his subjects without being affected by them.^[30] However, most people would agree that a ruler who is not changed or affected by the joys and sorrows of his subjects is actually a despicable ruler and a psychopath.^[31] Process theologians thus stress that God’s power is relational; rather than being unaffected and unchanged by the world, God is the being most affected by every other being in the universe.^[32] As process theologian C. Robert Mesle puts it:

Relational power takes great strength. In stark contrast to unilateral power, the radical manifestations of relational power are found in people like Martin Luther King, Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, and Jesus. It requires the willingness to endure tremendous suffering while refusing to hate. It demands that we keep our hearts open to those who wish to slam them shut. It means offering to open up a relationship with people who hate us, despise us, and wish to destroy us.^[29]

In summation, then, process theologians argue that their conception of God’s power does not diminish God, but just the opposite. Rather than see God as one who unilaterally coerces other beings, judges and punishes them, and is completely unaffected by the joys and sorrows of others, process theologians see God as the one who persuades the universe to love and peace, is supremely affected by even the tiniest of joys and the smallest of sorrows, and is able to love all beings despite the most heinous acts they may commit. God is, as Whitehead says, "the fellow sufferer who understands."^[33]

See also

• Conceptions of God
• Essence–Energies distinction
• Liberal naturalism
• New Thought
• Open theism
• Panentheism
• Philosophical theism
• Philosophical theology
• Postliberal theology
• Process philosophy
• Synergism (theology)
• Theopoetics
• Earthseed
• Neo-Hasidism
• Systematic theology
• Divine Principle

References

1. ^ Viney, Donald Wayne (January 28, 2014). "Process Theism". Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Retrieved March 15, 2018.
2. ^ Cobb Jr., John B. (1982). Process Theology as Political Theology. Manchester University Press. p. 19. ISBN 978-0-664-24417-0.
3. ^ O'Regan, Cyril (1994). The Heterodox Hegel. Albany, New York: SUNY Press. p. 448: "Any relation between Process Theology and Hegelian ontotheology needs to be argued. Such argument has become more conspicuous in recent years". ISBN 978-0-791-42005-8.
4. ^ Bonting, Sjoerd Lieuwe (2005). Creation and Double Chaos. Science and Theology in Discussion. Minneapolis, Minnesota: Fortress Press. p. 88. ISBN 978-1-451-41838-5.
5. ^ Jump up to:^a b John W. Cooper, Panentheism: The Other God of the Philosophers (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2006), 342.
6. ^ Seibt, Johanna (October 26, 2017). "Process Philosophy". Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Retrieved March 15, 2018.
7. ^ Whitehead, Process and Reality, Corrected Ed. (New York: The Free Press, 1978), 348.
8. ^ Charles Hartshorne, Omnipotence and Other Theological Mistakes (Albany: State University of New York, 1984), 20—26.
9. ^ John Cobb and David Griffin, Process Theology: An Introductory Exposition (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1976), 14—16, chapter 1.
10. ^ Hartshorne, 32−36.
11. ^ Viney, Donald Wayne (August 24, 2004). "Charles Hartshorne: Dipolar Theism". Harvard Square Library. Retrieved March 15, 2018.
12. ^ Cobb Jr., John B. (1978). "Process Theology". Religion Online. Retrieved March 15,2018.
13. ^ Center for Process Studies, "CPS Co-directors," retrieved September 6, 2014.
14. ^ "The Body of God - An Ecological Theology," retrieved September 6, 2014.
15. ^ C. Robert Mesle, Process Theology: A Basic Introduction (St. Louis, MO: Chalice Press, 1993), 65—68, 75−80.
16. ^ Mesle (1993). p. 101.
17. ^ Mesle (1993). p. 106.
18. ^ Feinberg, John S. (2006). No one like Him: the doctrine of God (Rev. ed.). Wheaton. Ill.: Crossway Books. p. 178. ISBN 978-1581348118.
19. ^ Roger E. Olson, “Why I am Not a Process Theologian,” last modified December 4, 2013, Patheos.org, accessed May 7, 2014.
20. ^ David Basinger, Divine Power in Process Theism (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1988), 14.
21. ^ Al Truesdale, God Reconsidered (Kansas City: Beacon Hill Press, 2010), 21.
22. ^ David Ray Griffin, God, Power, and Evil: A Process Theodicy (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2004), 268.
23. ^ David Ray Griffin (2004). p. 265.
24. ^ David Ray Griffin (2004). p. 267.
25. ^ Jump up to:^a b David Ray Griffin (2004). p. 9.
26. ^ David Ray Griffin (2004). p. 8.
27. ^ David Ray Griffin (2004). p. 6.
28. ^ Jump up to:^a b c David Ray Griffin, "Creation Out of Chaos and the Problem of Evil," in Encountering Evil: Live Options in Theodicy, ed. Stephen Davis (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1981), 135.
29. ^ Jump up to:^a b C. Robert Mesle, "Relational Power Archived 2017-08-24 at the Wayback Machine," JesusJazzBuddhism.org, accessed May 7, 2014.
30. ^ Schubert M. Ogden, The Reality of God and Other Essays (Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 1992), 51.
31. ^ Charles Hartshorne, "Kant's Traditionalism," in Insights and Oversights of Great Thinkers: An Evaluation of Western Philosophy, ed. Charles Hartshorne (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1983), 174.
32. ^ Charles Hartshorne, The Divine Relativity: A Social Conception of God (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964), 58.
33. ^ Alfred North Whitehead, Process and Reality (New York: The Free Press, 1978), 351.

Further reading

• Bruce G. Epperly Process Theology: A Guide for the Perplexed (NY: T&T Clark, 2011, ISBN 978-0-567-59669-7) This is "perhaps the best in-depth introduction to process theology available for non-specialists."
• Marjorie Hewitt Suchocki's God Christ Church: A Practical Guide to Process Theology, new rev. ed. (New York: Crossroad, 1989, ISBN 0-8245-0970-6) demonstrates the practical integration of process philosophy with Christianity.
• C. Robert Mesle's Process Theology: A Basic Introduction (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 1993, ISBN 0-8272-2945-3) is an introduction to process theology written for the layperson.
• Jewish introductions to classical theism, limited theism and process theology can be found in A Question of Faith: An Atheist and a Rabbi Debate the Existence of God (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1994, ISBN 1-56821-089-2) and The Case for God (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 1991, ISBN 0-8272-0458-2), both written by Rabbi William E. Kaufman. Jewish variations of process theology are also presented in Harold Kushner's When Bad Things Happen to Good People (New York: Anchor Books, 2004, ISBN 1-4000-3472-8) and Sandra B. Lubarsky and David Ray Griffin, eds., Jewish Theology and Process Thought (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995, ISBN 0-7914-2810-9).
• Christian introductions may be found in Schubert M. Ogden's The Reality of God and Other Essays (Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 1992, ISBN 0-87074-318-X); John B. Cobb, Doubting Thomas: Christology in Story Form (New York: Crossroad, 1990, ISBN 0-8245-1033-X); Charles Hartshorne, Omnipotence and Other Theological Mistakes (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1984, ISBN 0-87395-771-7); and Richard Rice, God's Foreknowledge & Man's Free Will (Minneapolis, Minn.: Bethany House Publishers, 1985; rev. ed. of the author's The Openness of God, cop. 1980; ISBN 0-87123-845-4). In French, the best introduction may be André Gounelle, Le Dynamisme Créateur de Dieu: Essai sur la Théologie du Process, édition revue, modifiée et augmentee (Paris: Van Dieren, 2000, ISBN 2-911087-26-7).
• The most important work by Paul S. Fiddes is The Creative Suffering of God (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992); see also his short overview "Process Theology," in A. E. McGrath, ed., The Blackwell Encyclopaedia of Modern Christian Thought (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 472–76.
• Norman Pittenger's thought is exemplified in his God in Process (London: SCM Press, 1967, LCC BT83.6 .P5), Process-Thought and Christian Faith (New York: Macmillan Company, 1968, LCC BR100 .P615 1968), and Becoming and Belonging (Wilton, CT: Morehouse Publications, 1989, ISBN 0-8192-1480-9).
• Constance Wise's Hidden Circles in the Web: Feminist Wicca, Occult Knowledge, and Process Thought (Lanham, Md.: AltaMira Press, 2008, ISBN 978-0-7591-1006-9) applies process theology to one variety of contemporary Paganism.
• Michel Weber, « Shamanism and proto-consciousness », in René Lebrun, Julien De Vos et É. Van Quickelberghe (éds), Deus Unicus, Turnhout, Brepols, coll. Homo Religiosus série II, 14, 2015, pp. 247–260.
• Staub, Jacob (October 1992). "Kaplan and Process Theology". In Goldsmith, Emanuel; Scult, Mel; Seltzer, Robert (eds.). The American Judaism of Mordecai M. Kaplan. NYU Press. ISBN 978-0-8147-3257-1.
• Kwall, Roberta R. (2011–2012). "The Lessons of Living Gardens and Jewish Process Theology for Authorship and Moral Rights". Vanderbilt Journal of Entertainment and Technology Law. 14: 889–.
• Bowman, Donna; McDaniel, Jay, eds. (January 2006). Handbook of Process Theology. Chalice Press. ISBN 978-0-8272-1467-5.
• Loomer, Bernard M. (1987). "Process Theology: Origins, Strengths, Weaknesses". Process Studies. 16 (4): 245–254. doi:10.5840/process198716446.
• Cobb, John B. (1980). "Process Theology and Environmental Issues". The Journal of Religion. 60 (4): 440–458. doi:10.1086/486819. S2CID 144187859.
• Faber, Roland (6 April 2017). The Becoming of God: Process Theology, Philosophy, and Multireligious Engagement. Wipf and Stock Publishers. ISBN 978-1-60608-885-2.
• Burrell, David B. (1982). "Does Process Theology Rest on a Mistake?". Theological Studies. 43 (1): 125–135. doi:10.1177/004056398204300105. S2CID 171057603.
  • Devenish, Philip E. (1982). "Postliberal Process Theology: A Rejoinder to Burrell". Theological Studies. 43 (3): 504–513. doi:10.1177/004056398204300307. S2CID 160021337.
• Pixley, George V. (1974). "Justice and Class Struggle: A Challenge for Process Theology". Process Studies. 4 (3): 159–175. doi:10.5840/process19744328.
• Mesle, C. Robert (1988). "Does God Hide from Us?: John Hick and Process Theology on Faith, Freedom and Theodicy". International Journal for Philosophy of Religion. 24 (1/2): 93–111. doi:10.1007/BF00134167. ISSN 0020-7047. JSTOR 40024796. S2CID 169572605.
• Dean, William (1984). "Deconstruction and Process Theology". The Journal of Religion. 64 (1): 1–19. doi:10.1086/487073. S2CID 170764846.
• Dorrien, Gary (2008). "The Lure and Necessity of Process Theology". CrossCurrents. 58 (2): 316–336. doi:10.1111/j.1939-3881.2008.00026.x. ISSN 0011-1953. JSTOR 24461426.
• Stone, Bryan P.; Oord, Thomas Jay, eds. (2001). Thy Nature and Thy Name is Love: Wesleyan and Process Theologies in Dialogue. Kingswood Books. ISBN 978-0-687-05220-2.
• Mueller, J. J. (1986). "Process Theology and the Catholic Theological Community". Theological Studies. 47 (3): 412–427. doi:10.1177/004056398604700303. S2CID 147471058.
• O'Connor, June (1980). "Process Theology and Liberation Theology: Theological and Ethical Reflections". Horizons. 7 (2): 231–248. doi:10.1017/S0360966900021265.
• Trethowan, Illtyd (1983). "The Significance of Process Theology". Religious Studies. 19 (3): 311–322. doi:10.1017/S0034412500015262.
• Hare, Peter H.; Ryder, John (1980). "Buchler's Ordinal Metaphysics and Process Theology". Process Studies. 10 (3/4): 120–129. doi:10.5840/process1980103/411. JSTOR 44798127.
• Hekman, Susan (2017). "Feminist New Materialism and Process Theology: Beginning the Dialogue". Feminist Theology. 25 (2): 198–207. doi:10.1177/0966735016678544. S2CID 152230362.
• Pittenger, Norman (1977). "Christology in Process Theology". Theology. 80 (675): 187–193. doi:10.1177/0040571X7708000306. S2CID 171066693.
• Pittenger, Norman (1974). "The Incarnation in Process Theology". Review & Expositor. 71 (1): 43–57. doi:10.1177/003463737407100105. S2CID 170805965.
• Inbody, Tyron (1975). "Paul Tillich and Process Theology". Theological Studies. 36 (3): 472–492. doi:10.1177/004056397503600304. S2CID 170482044.
• Griffin, David Ray (31 July 2003). "Reconstructive Theology". In Vanhoozer, Kevin J. (ed.). The Cambridge Companion to Postmodern Theology. Cambridge University Press. ISBN 978-0-521-79395-7.

External links

• The Center for Process Studies
• Process and Faith

Reference works

• Byrne, Peter; Houlden, Leslie (2013). "Process Theology". Companion Encyclopedia of Theology. London: Routledge. ISBN 978-1-13492200-0.
• An encyclopedic-type article
• Michel Weber and Will Desmond (eds.), Handbook of Whiteheadian Process Thought, Frankfurt / Lancaster, ontos verlag, Process Thought X1 & X2, 2008 (ISBN 978-3-938793-92-3).