Luke 11:1-13 · Jesus’ Teaching on Prayer
An Everyday Theology
Luke 11:1-13
Sermon
by Wallace H. Kirby
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There are two major ways of talking about the Christian gospel. One of them is a learned style, with terms and concepts forged by the scholar and the classroom. The second way of speaking theologically is to use the situations and relationships of everyday life. Every Christian works out his or her understanding of the gospel, using something of both of these approaches. Even the ordinary, uneducated Christian knows something of the learned theological style, for many passages of the New Testament are based on the insights of a sophisticated and academic tradition. To read the prologue to the Gospel of John, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God," is to hear the good news of God in Christ in terms of Greek philosophy. And when Jesus teaches the disciples to pray, "Our Father...," we are in the presence of a profound everyday theological style.

Recognition is not always given to the importance of the learned style of theology in the history of the church. There have been times when Christians thought that all they needed was an everyday theology. Albert Outler says the early Methodist circuit riders had something of this bias. They joined with many laypersons in resisting the call for an educated clergy, thinking that they did not need the rich theological heritage of yesterday. Confident of their ability to preach and theologize out of their own narrow experiences and education, Outier says, "They already knew what they didn’t need to know." Even today there are some prejudice and suspicion toward all forms of theology that ground themselves in human learning and scholarly wisdom.

But we need to remember that the gospel might not have survived if it had not used learned styles and terms. When the first Christians hit Gentile soil, they soon discovered the necessity to proclaim the gospel in the academic styles familiar to the Gentile audience. We may sometimes groan over the pedantry of early church councils, wrestling with the relationship of the human and the divine natures in Christ. The debates finally hung on a single letter, between using "homoousia" or "homoiousia." Yet the distinction was crucial for the church and its future. We owe a large debt to those who contended for theology in a learned style. Think quickly how the faith of countless Christians was well served by those who re-thought the gospel after the coming of Darwin and evolutionary theory, recasting Christian convictions in ways that included new human wisdom made an intelligent and enthusiastic faith possible for many, many Christians. Our history shows the rich treasures of a learned theological style.

I

The need for this learned style of theology - one that takes into account all the facets of human wisdom - has not diminished in our time. Its need may be heightened in light of current trends. It is no secret that simplistic and sometimes thoughtless versions of the faith are in the ascendancy today. Major denominational publishing houses play down the findings of a century of biblical criticism so that their materials do not offend the prevailing mood. The ordination of a bishop in the Church of England is met with furor because he holds a "non-bodily view" of the resurrection. Creationists, mistakenly thinking they are defending the faith, hold state legislatures hostage to their twisting of science and Scripture. Media Christianity is at best a bundle of bland and inoffensive platitudes, a package of uncritical theologizing that drives more deeply the wedge between the gospel and the world. Too little of today’s proclamation of the gospel is bathed with any redeeming thoughtfulness.

Samuel Miller, dean of Harvard Divinity School, once told the students that serious learning and its application to the gospel is indispensable. "Let the minister be sure his mind is sharpened to its utmost, lest he blunder about the world with a rough and stupid carelessness, hoping that he might hit upon the will of God merely because of his good intentions." Such words are not restricted to clergy. They are words for all Christ’s people. If all our talk about the ministry of the laity is to be more than verbal ventilation, then laypersons have need for such marching orders, too. Service to Christ as well as personal spiritual growth are in need of the richness that serious thoughtfulness can bring to them.

The historian Will Durant made the plea that when he went to church he not be asked to leave his critical intelligence in the narthex along with his hat. We are in serious danger of failing to heed Durant. With our attention on those multitude who are flocking to the proclaimers of the gospel (whose presentation is untarnished by a serious grappling with the wisdoms of science, biblical criticism, or the prevailing arts) we are overlooking the fact that we are creating a new mission field: those who drop out of the faith because it appears too simplistic, obscure and anti-intellectual. According to Cohn Morris, the pulpit is one of the few remaining places in our society where serious issues are discussed. It may be that neither the pulpit nor the church lives up to this high calling, and we should not let such a judgment easily slide by.

One of my parishioners who was moving from our community was saying her goodbyes. She spoke the usual polite words about her appreciation for the church and my ministry. Then she closed with, "I’m not sure that I always liked it here, but you really made me think." It was taken as a profound compliment that we hardly deserved, but were pleased to accept. There is a desperate need for a theological style that helps serious and thoughtful Christians - young and old - to match up the gospel and our modern learning and culture. We are losing too many who are insulted or bored by the simplistic theology prevalent in our day. Let us remember that when Jesus repeated the commandment, he said that one of the ways of loving God, a way that is on a par with all the rest, is "with all our mind." It may be easier, in the short run, to ignore this teaching of our Lord. In the long run, however, it is not only dishonest but also destructive.

II

When Karl Barth, retired and in his later years, visited an American theological school, one of the students asked him, "How would you characterize your theology, Dr. Barth?" Barth thought for a moment and said that his answer was a song he learned at his mother’s knee: "Jesus loves me, this I know ..." Isn’t that great! A renowned theologian, no stranger to using all his mind as he deals with the meaning of the gospel, wrapped it all up in a little Sunday school tune. Alongside his wide-ranging academic theology, he had an everyday theology.

Jesus was a master of this theological style. This can be seen in the passage on prayer in Luke 11. The disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray and the result is what we call the Lord’s Prayer, along with some additional encouragements to pray. Notice the everyday images in this text: "Father," "bread," "kingdom." Then Jesus depicts two everyday experiences that emphasize God’s willingness to respond to our praying: getting up at night to help a pestering friend, and a father who gives good things to his children. Beyond this passage we might think of the many parables as drawn from the common stuff of everyday life.

How often our theological perplexities are solved by resorting to an everyday theology. Take the question of ultimate destiny. One might ask if there really is an everlasting hell, apart from one’s desire to have it that way. Does God send some to eternal separation from his love? If we run that question by our everyday theology it might come out something like this: No, there is not an everlasting hell, as far as God would have it so. Why? Simply because it would be unthinkable for any human parent. None of us, no matter how disappointed with our sons or daughters, would ever close out the possibility of their change of heart and not allow them to return to the family and our love. Theology drawn from everyday experiences believes that we can never "drift beyond his love and care" - in this life or the next!

Everyday theology works when we are struggling with the experience of suffering and evil. Sooner or later, when we are caught in some great personal pain or anguish, we wonder if God has deliberately sent this affliction upon us. The doctor tells us we have an incurable disease, our mate decides that he or she no longer wants to have a marriage, or a plane goes down with our son or daughter aboard, and we have thoughts about God causing all of this. Granted, God can and does teach us through these terrible moments. Admittedly they can be more graceful than we initially understand. But we must say that God does not deliberately send such pains and sufferings upon us.

Again, an everyday theology provides the answer. If we ask the question in an everyday context - "Would a human father work this way?" - "Would you act this way toward your children?" - the answer becomes quite clear: no, my role as a human parent would not allow me to do this to my sons and daughters, even for supposedly good purposes. An everyday theology, imbedded in the realities and good sense of everyday life and relationships, is a very valuable piece of spiritual equipment.

III

The conclusion of this sermon is to lift up the vital necessity of both learned and everyday theology. It is wisdom to know that most of the truth of God and man is both/and, not either/or. It is both a learned and an everyday theology. To use one to the exclusion of the other is to simplify the tension at the loss of depth, richness, and truth.

We will continue to need a learned theology. It is part of the apologetic task of our day. Let us remember that the sound, intellectual preaching of Ambrose of Milan played a major part in the conversion of Augustine. Harry Emerson Fosdick confesses, in The Living of These Days, that it was the vibrant, modern thinking of a theology professor that made Christianity a continuing option for him and many others of his generation. Elton Trueblood has wisely said that intellectual argumentation does not create Christian conviction. But he also notes that intellectual sharpness can remove obstacles that stand in the way of an intelligent response to Christ’s offer. The proliferation of modern human wisdom and the simplistic mood in today’s church make a theological style of this sort all the more imperative.

We need and will continue to need an everyday theology. Preferably, it will be an everyday theology that is conversant with and informed about the learned theological style. This will serve to restrain our common, everyday theology from falling into the excessive simplicities, and dangerous anti-intellectualisms that abound in media and much local church theologizing.

A model for this might be one from a couple centuries back - that of John Wesley. He has been called a "folk theologian." In proclaiming the gospel through preaching and writing, Wesley sought the clarity and strength of the simple statement. He said he tried to communicate ad populum ("to the bulk of mankind"), to those who neither relish nor understand the act of speaking, but who, notwithstanding, are competent judges of those truths which are necessary to present and future happiness - I design plain truth for plain people.

Notice that Wesley was no intellectual dunce. He was an Oxford graduate and had a lively interest in everything from science to medicine and the theater. Some more narrow follower, unfortunately, burned Wesley’s extensive notes and condensations of Shakespeare’s plays; he missed the wider spirit of his master. Wesley once wrote a sermon titled, "Plundering the Egyptians," in which he insisted upon the necessity for Christians to appropriate the treasures of the profane world as they proclaim and live the gospel. This appropriation he imaged as "plundering the Egyptians." This is no anti-intellectual, anti-cultural bumpkin talking about "plain truth for plain people."

In fact, this is the only sort of everyday simplicity that will effectively speak to our times - with any lasting effect. An everyday theology, speaking through the images and circumstances of the daily routine, grounded in the best sacred or secular wisdom that the human mind has been given, is a necessity for proclaiming, deciding and living the gospel in our day. And one suspects that it has always been so.

CSS Publishing Company, If Only..., by Wallace H. Kirby