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Keith Watkins A Lover’s Quarrel with His Church
Reviewing A Lover’s Quarrel: A Theologian and His Beloved Church, by Joe R. Jones
The lover in the book title is Joe R. Jones, retired theo-‐logian, professor, and academic administrator. The beloved church is the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in which Jones was reared, educated, or-‐dained, and employed through much of his career. The quarrel is the author’s contention that his church needs theological renewal at its deepest level in order to continue as a faithful and effective witness of the Christian gospel in the world today.
A Lover’s Quarrel follows two other books that Jones has published since his retirement in 2000. A Grammar of Christian Faith: Systematic Explorations in Christian Life and Doctrine (published in 2002) is a two-‐volume exposition of Christian theology based on
many years of graduate level teaching in three seminaries. Jones frequently refer-‐ences this book in his later publications.
On Being the Church of Jesus Christ in Tumultuous Times (published in 2005) contains lectures, papers, sermons, prayers, and other documents (some previously published) that represent the wider range of Jones’ theological and cultural work. As the title indicates, Jones understands himself to be a theologian in the church and for the church rather than a scholar who understands theology primarily as an academ-‐ic discipline.
Jones’ latest book continues the pattern of the previous volume in that it is a collection of documents of varied character, all but two of them written since 2005. These recent documents, he writes, “are consistent with the overall perspective conveyed in the Grammar” although they “were occasioned by time-‐specific person-‐al and public events, politics, and church life” (viii).
_________________
Keith Watkins writes on history, theology, and bicycling. He lives in Vancouver, Washington, just north of the Columbia
River from Portland, Oregon. [email protected] Copyright © 2014 Keith Watkins
2 A Lover’s Quarrel with His Church
Jones divides the book into four parts that indicate the range of his interests: (1) Ecumenical Theologizing with Ecclesial Friends; (2) On Being Mugged by Politics but Lifted by Gospel Hope; (3) Fragments from Times Past and Emerging Hopes; (4) Sermons Ventured on Behalf of the Witness of the Beloved Church. The chapters vary in length from two-‐page blogs to substantive papers, notably: “Salvation: Map-‐ping the Salvific Themes of Christian Faith,” and “Yoder and Stone-‐Campbellites: Sorting the Grammar of Radical Orthodoxy and Radical Discipleship.”
I first met Jones at a General Assembly of our church some thirty years ago. Lis-‐tening to him speak to a topic of mutual interest, I was impressed by his passion and clarity of thought, even though I held a different view of the topic being debated. Some years later, he became academic dean of the seminary where I was a senior professor, and during the next years (until my retirement) I saw these same quali-‐ties at work on a consistent basis.
One of the essays in A Lover’s Quarrel helps me understand the source of Jones’ passion for his work. In preparation for the fiftieth anniversary reunion of his class at Yale Divinity School, he wrote a paper with the subtitle “Remembrance of Things Past and Present Discontent.”
Jones had arrived at Yale Divinity School with over sixty hours of philosophy at the University of Oklahoma “ready to consume whatever quasi-‐liberal YDS had to offer” (143). Steeped in the theology of Paul Tillich and Reinhold Niebuhr, he was not prepared for the intellectual revolution that he would experience when he en-‐countered the theology of Karl Barth.
He continued in a PhD program of study at Yale University and started work on a dissertation on Barth. With dissertation not yet completed, he was called to teach at Perkins School of Theology at Southern Methodist University. The conviction grew within him that some of the theological proposals being published at that time “were not merely reformative of Christian theology, but were in fact the demise of anything bearing an identifiable relation to Christian traditions.”
What he calls “a basic question of honesty” was emerging within him: “either stay in church and get serious theologically or leave church and give up any pre-‐tense that one is a Christian.” He concluded that for him “the only theological sub-‐stance worth saving was a Radical Orthodoxy with a substantive Christology and a Trinitarian heart, closer to Barth rather than the later Milbankian sort. Only a church with those theological linchpins could possibly have sufficient integrity and conviction to survive the overwhelming sociopolitical upheavals surging in America and be faithful to the Gospel of Jesus Christ” (148).
At that critical moment (1969), Jones was granted a semester-‐leave to finish the dissertation on Barth. “In ways not easily summarized and encapsulated, I healed spiritually and became clearer about my vocation as a church theologian.” His voca-‐tion, he was convinced, “was to help the church learn how to be the church in the
A Lover’s Quarrel with His Church 3
midst of that rankling and social conflict that did then and has ever since dominated American political life.”
This autobiographical essay illuminates the thesis that flows through A Lover’s Quarrel: that churches today, and in particular Jones’ Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) need to recover radical orthodoxy. In his essay on Yoder and the Stone-‐Campbell movement, Jones summarizes what he means: “Were the church truly and radically orthodox, . . . then it would consistently be clear to the church that it serves God first and that God’s reality and will is known in the compelling contours of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, very God and very human. Only by bear-‐ing this in mind could the church refuse to identify God’s will with the arrangement of power and politics in any particular human government and culture” (60).
Jones is willing to mix his metaphors in the way he words radical orthodoxy. Note the doxology with which he closes sermons in the last part of the book: “All this, dear friend, I have dared to preach in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, One God, Mother of us all. Amen.” The tone of this ascription is similar to one by Theodore Parker, a nineteenth century New England pastor, that I had proposed as the title for my 1981 book on inclusive language in worship: “God our Father and Our Mother Nonetheless.” (The publisher preferred a more conven-‐tional title: “Faithful and Fair.”)
Throughout A Lover’s Quarrel, however, Jones uses a more formal statement to summarize the radical orthodoxy that he urges the church to affirm. It is about the same length as the ancient Apostles Creed and about half the length of the Disciples Affirmation that is widely used within the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). The first lines indicate the tone of Jones’ creed-‐like statement.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ is the Good News that the God of Israel, the Creator of all creatures, has in freedom and love become incarnate in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth to enact and reveal God’s gracious reconciliation of humanity to God’s self…
Throughout the book, Jones also uses a brief definition of the church that does not have a close counterpart in the church’s classic liturgical formularies.
The church is that liberative and redemptive community of persons called into being by the Gospel of Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit to witness in word and deed
4 A Lover’s Quarrel with His Church
to the living Triune God for the benefit of the world to the glory of God (xxv).
Illustrations of Jones’ radical orthodoxy at work are found in his blogs on cur-‐
rent issues in contemporary life. His public discussion with members of his own ex-‐tended family about the Affordable Care Act is one example. Even more forceful than that essay is another in which he refers to the time when “the Nazis hijacked the German/Lutheran/Reformed Christian narrative” and thereby “dismantled and dismembered that narrative, rendering it unrecognizable.” Two-‐thirds of a century later, the church in Germany is having to work at re-‐educating “lay and clerical alike in what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ quite apart from what it means to be a postmodern German” (103).
Jones continues: “Is there not a profound sadness that engulfs the church in America when that prime Christian narrative of what God has done in Israel and in Jesus Christ for the world is continually subordinated to a narrative about ‘righteous and democratic America’ in a war on terror, about the freedom to be capitalists and escape the dependencies of ‘self-‐imposed poverty’ and government handouts, about the evils of Islam, about the evils of divorce and homosexuals?”
As I reflect upon A Lover’s Quarrel, I recognize a similar discontent in my own relations with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in which I too have lived out my Christian life and served as pastor and professor. My diagnosis is similar to Jones: that in their involvements with modernity, our churches have been losing the gospel. Jones and I also agree that the prescription is to reestablish the gospel at the center of the church’s life.
When it comes to prescribing a therapeutic intervention, however, we differ. As a theologian, Jones naturally turns to summations of the faith, expressed in concise statements, that are to guide everything the church thinks, says, and does. For Jones radical orthodoxy and creedal orthodoxy are virtually synonymous.
As a church historian, with special interest in its liturgical life, I have depended upon carefully crafted, theologically careful rites, ceremonies, and prayers to ex-‐press the church’s faith. In the same year that Jones experienced his crisis of faith and vocation, I was one of my church’s representatives on a commission that was developing a text for celebrating the Lord’s Supper for use in churches in the Consul-‐tation on Church Union. The principal drafter was Massey H. Shepherd Jr., a leading liturgical scholar of the Episcopal Church. In response to a discussion about the in-‐clusion of a classic creed in the liturgy, Shepherd noted that, strictly speaking, it was not necessary.
In the commentary that he prepared to accompany the published liturgy, Shep-‐herd explained: “the recital of a Creed has never been a necessary or invariable us-‐age in the liturgies of the Lord’ Supper.” The reason is that “the great Thanksgiving
A Lover’s Quarrel with His Church 5
Prayer of the service, not to speak of the doxological hymns such as the Gloria in ex-‐celsis and the Te Deum laudamus, are themselves synoptic recitals of the essential faith of the Church and summaries of its gospel” (An Order of Worship, 60).
As I reflect upon Jones’s book, however, I realize that we differ in a more signif-‐icant way than this distinction between creedal and liturgical modes of preserving the gospel core in the church’s life. In his book The Heretical Imperative: Contempo-‐rary Possibilities of Religious Affirmation, Peter L. Berger discusses three ways in which Protestant Christians have responded to modernity: (1) The Deductive Possi-‐bility—Reaffirming Tradition, with Karl Barth the exemplar; (2) The Reductive Pos-‐sibility—Modernizing Tradition, with Rudolf Bultmann the exemplar; and (3) The Inductive Possibility—From Tradition to Experience, with Friedrich Schleiermacher as the exemplar. One of my disappointments with Berger’s exposition is his failure to use a twentieth century theologian as the representative of the third form of re-‐sponse.
Jones clearly works within the framework of the reaffirmation of tradition, whereas my work is closer to what Berger calls the inductive possibility. Both of us shy away from Berger’s middle form of response, and for much the same reason: our sense that when the Gospel is demythologized, with classic doctrines and liturgies translated into psychological and philosophical categories, the substance of Chris-‐tian faith dissipates and little is left.
Jones writes with poignancy as well as with passion, as can be seen in a homily that he gave at the funeral of a friend in 2007. Their friendship had included strong and vigorous conversations about the theology of Paul Tillich about whose work their judgments differed significantly. These conversations had sometimes focused on Tillich’s book The Courage to Be.
Jones summarizes the meaning of that phrase by saying that this courage is the “refusal to give up or give in to despair in the midst of the whirlwinds and tumults, the disappointment and grievous harms, that human beings so often encounter. It is the strong and consistent resolve—and thereby the courage—to trust that at the depths of life and death there is a sense-‐making Presence that cannot be defeated” (191).
He references the affirmation in Romans 8 that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, thus renewing the thesis of this book and his own life-‐long ministry: “It is precisely this triumphant love of God in Christ Jesus that is the Gospel—the utterly true and disarming good news that has been revealed to us in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.”
My thanks to Joe Jones for this book that helps me—and, I hope, many others—find the courage to live courageously as long as life shall last.
6 A Lover’s Quarrel with His Church
Notes: A Lover’s Quarrel: A Theologian and His Beloved Church, by Joe R. Jones. Foreword by
Stanley Hauerwas (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2014). Faithful and Fair: Transcending Sexist Language in Worship, by Keith Watkins (Nash-‐
ville: Abingdon, 1981) The Heretical Imperative: Contemporary Possibilities of Religious Affirmation, by Pe-‐
ter L. Berger (Garden City, NY: Anchor, 1980).