8 Theology and the Life of the Church
8
Theology and the Life of the Church
Packer’s constant emphasis on the importance of theology in the life of the Church contrasted with the more pragmatic techniques that had gained the ascendancy in British theological education since the First World War. Those preparing for ministry in the churches went to theological colleges for training, often being taught basic pastoral skills by clergy who either took a few years out from their ministry to teach full-time at these colleges, or who would spend several hours a week with those in training, discussing how best to preach or minister. It was an inherited model of training for ministry that had served the Church well in the past. But would it continue to work in the future?
Packer thought not. It was a purely pragmatic model of ministerial training, which emphasised the acquisition of certain techniques (such as pastoral care and preaching) and of a body of knowledge (mainly aspects of the professional culture of the Church of England, within which they would work). This is not a criticism of the Church of England: such models of theological education were commonplace at the time. Packer, however, was convinced that good preaching and pastoral practice emerged from good theology, which was the fundamental resource on which Christian ministry was ultimately based. What was required was the coordination of theology and the life of faith – a vision which Packer found in the preaching, pastoral practices and spiritual disciplines of the Puritans.
There were, of course, institutions of theological education beyond England which recognised the importance of the integration of theology and ministry. New College, Edinburgh, was one of the most important institutions of theological education in the Church of Scotland. Thomas F. Torrance served as its Professor of Christian Dogmatics from 1952 to 1979, and stressed the importance of theology for ministry. Having himself served in the pastoral ministry of the Church of Scotland from 1940 to 1950, Torrance had given much thought to the integration of the Christian mind and Christian ministerial practice, finding the theology of Karl Barth particularly helpful in this enterprise. Many larger American seminaries – Princeton Theological Seminary and Fuller Theological Seminary, for instance – had faculty members specialising in the field of practical theology.
An authentic Christian theology can never be an abstract intellectual pursuit, disengaged from the Christian life or the Church. While Warden of Latimer House, Packer made it clear that he did not wish to conduct what he perhaps unfairly dismissed as ‘ivory tower theology’; his commitment was to a theology that was attentive to the pastoral, homiletic and spiritual ministry of the Church. Although it is fair to object that some of the world’s leading academic theologians of that day – such as Torrance himself – shared Packer’s concern to integrate theology with the Christian life, Packer’s point needs to be taken seriously. It is fatally easy for theology to become the abstract and detached study of other theologians, rather than a principled and intentional commitment to enrich and inform the individual and communal life of faith.
Some of Packer’s published pieces are intellectually outstanding, showing a range and depth of theological knowledge, linked with the ability to offer both critical analysis and constructive synthesis. Packer could easily have written substantial academic monographs that would have graced the catalogues of the world’s leading university presses – Cambridge, Chicago, Harvard, Oxford, Princeton or Yale. Yet he chose not to. Packer had no doubt what his intended readership was, and developed such a sustained and committed relationship with this readership over a period of fifty years that he became the ‘go to’ theologian for evangelicals, especially from a Reformed perspective, wanting an authentic, and accessible exploration of the Christian faith, particularly since his work tended to focus on nurturing the Christian life of his individual readers. Packer’s repeated emphasis on the importance of catechesis and spirituality resonated well with this readership, especially in the United States.
The Italian political theorist Antonio Gramsci makes a helpful point here in his concept of an ‘organic intellectual’. Gramsci refers to thinkers whose authority does not rise from imposition, but who rather gather a following on account of their capacity to speak to the needs and situations of individuals and communities. We could think of Packer as an ‘organic theologian’ – someone whose standing and influence are the natural outcome of the respect in which he is held within a specific community, which recognises that he takes their hopes, fears and needs seriously, and that he is able to address them in a manner that is both trustworthy and approachable. Gramsci suggests that communities seek and find authority in trusted and wise individuals – whether or not they have been accredited by the academy. Packer’s proven record of fidelity to the Christian tradition, his love for the gospel and responsible, informed endeavours to relate faith to life are all clearly acknowledged and appreciated by his many readers.
Many have argued that theological education in the United States and Britain during the nineteenth century was based on the fundamental assumption of the mutual interconnectedness of theology, spirituality and ministry.Yet much of Packer’s theological reflection took place during a later period in Western culture which saw the ‘fragmentation’ of Christian theology. In his notable study Theologia: The Fragmentation and Unity of Theological Education (1983), Edward Farley identified a series of developments in post-war theological education which led to the loss of a defining theological vision characterised by the ‘coinherence of piety and intellect’. Farley argues that the term theologia has lost its original meaning, which he defines as ‘sapiential and personal knowledge of divine self-disclosure’ leading to ‘wisdom or discerning judgement indispensable for human living’. Theology used to be – and, in Farley’s view, still could and should be – ‘not just objective science, but a personal knowledge of God and the things of God’.
It is instructive to read Packer’s substantial publishing output with these issues in mind, particularly the sundering of the link between piety and intellect. Farley’s plea for a reconnection of what we might call a ‘discipleship of the heart’ and a ‘discipleship of the mind’ is echoed and treated in many of Packer’s writings, especially those which emphasise the quintessential interconnection of theology and spirituality. Packer, however, did not formulate his vision of theology in response to this fragmentation, as if his theology was an attempt to put things back together again; he works with a vision of theology which affirms the fundamental integration of the reasonable and experiential, the theoretical and practical, from the outset.
Packer argues that it is never enough for us to know about God; true Christian theology is about knowing God – a relational and transformative process of knowing and being known, which sustains and informs the Christian life. The Christian encounter with God is transformative. As Packer, following Calvin, pointed out, to know God is to be changed by God; true knowledge of God leads to worship, as the believer is caught up in a transforming and renewing encounter with the living God. The ultimate test of whether we have grasped theological truth is thus not so much whether we have comprehended it rationally, but whether it has transformed us experientially. In an important sense, we are not called on to master theology, but to allow it to master us. This helps us understand Packer’s intense concern with Christian piety, especially as this is expressed and sustained by the doctrine of sanctification.
At one level, Packer regards theology as informative – that is to say, disclosing to us the way things really are; or inviting us to think and talk about God and the created order in the light of God’s own self-disclosure in history and Scripture. The proper subject matter of systematic theology is revealed truth about the works, ways and will of God, which is developed exegetically through an engagement with Scripture and ‘brought together in a single coherent scheme’. Theology weaves together biblical threads, engendering a grander vision of things to be discerned. Theology thus provides a biblically grounded and intellectually coherent account of God, our world and ourselves, allowing us rightly to discern the character and wisdom of God, together with our true identity, natural capacities and ultimate destiny. For this reason, there is an intimate link between theology and worship, as we respond in delight, awe and humility to the reality of God that theology discloses: ‘We are called to make our study of theology a devotional discipline, a verifying in experience of Aquinas’ beautiful remark that theology is taught by God, teaches God, and takes us to God.’
Theology tells us the truth about God and ourselves, whether we like what we are told or not. We must thus be prepared to face up to the challenging view of human nature and capacities that is embedded within the Christian faith, and respond accordingly. Yet Packer sees such insights as liberating, rather than discouraging – especially in dealing with the problem of ‘indwelling sin’. Packer, who knew such unease and anxiety over this issue himself, provides both an accurate description of this phenomenon, and what he considers to be a reliable prescription for its remedy. Christians, he suggests, ‘will live in tension and distress at their frustrating infirmities’. They are disheartened, in that they keep ‘discerning sinful desires in themselves despite their longing to be sin-free’. What they yearn for seems to lie tantalisingly beyond their grasp.
What, then, can be done about this? Packer often answers this question by drawing on his own experience as a young convert to Christianity at Oxford, who realised that the sin that formerly dominated him ‘had been de-throned but was not yet destroyed’. Sin was ‘marauding within me all the time, bringing back sinful desires that I hoped I had seen the last of, and twisting my new desires for God and godliness out of shape’. Grace might subdue sin, yet it does not wholly remove it. We are to ‘put on’ Christ, as we might put on a garment, which leads to ‘an implanting in us of the inclinations of Christ’s perfect humanity through our ingrafting into him’, which in turn produces within us ‘a mind-set and lifestyle that is not explicable in terms of what we were before’. We are called to be watchful, and to fight against sin. Sanctification is indeed enabled by God – yet it demands an ongoing, determined struggle in faith. God works in and through the Christian’s efforts to bring about transformation and renewal.
How, we might ask, does theology impact on the life of the Church? Packer tends to concentrate on the difference that theology makes to individuals, particularly in helping them to develop their own personal piety. Yet his theology of the Church highlights the corporate aspects of the life of faith, making it clear that an individual’s growth in piety is located within and enriched by the community of faith. Christians can be thought of as ‘a little flock in a largely hostile environment’, who often struggle in the face of such enmity and isolation. Packer emphasises the need for ‘mutual love and care in God’s family on the basis that this is the life to which we are called and for which Christ equips us’. While individualism may come naturally to us, it can be unhealthy; it often represents a ‘proud unwillingness to accept a place in a team of peers and to be bound by group consensus’. For this reason, Packer insists on distinguishing between individualism and individuality. Being a Christian ripens and extends our individuality; individualism, however, is a form of sin.
So what about doctrines that many Christians find challenging to believe? A good example is the doctrine of the Trinity, which many ordinary believers find intellectually puzzling and spiritually irrelevant. Where some theologians set out to offer a reasoned defence of this doctrine, Packer prefers to adopt a more traditional evangelical approach, reaffirming its roots in the Bible. In his Concise Theology, Packer argues that the biblical witness to the ‘one God, the self-revealed Creator’ is that this one God is portrayed in the New Testament as ‘three personal agents, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, working together in the manner of a team to bring about salvation’. The doctrine of the Trinity is the Church’s appropriate response to this mystery, aiming to safeguard and preserve it – not to explain it.
Accepting that the doctrine of the Trinity is not explicitly formulated in the New Testament, Packer nevertheless notes that its basic themes are unquestionably present: ‘Though the technical language of historic trinitarianism is not found there, trinitarian faith and thinking are present throughout its pages, and in that sense the Trinity must be acknowledged as a biblical doctrine.’ It is clear that Packer’s comments are here intended for an intelligent lay audience as his conclusion concerning the practical implications of this doctrine would indicate: ‘The practical importance of the doctrine of the Trinity is that it requires us to pay equal attention, and give equal honor, to all three persons in the unity of their gracious ministry to us.’
Yet in an explicitly academic context, Packer offers a more nuanced and intricate account of the doctrine, highlighting the similarities between his own thinking on this matter and that of the Scottish theologian James Orr. Packer here stresses that the Church’s doctrine of the Trinity arose essentially from intense reflection on the identity and significance of Jesus Christ. Orr realised that the truth of the Trinity was ‘the first of the corollaries of the doctrine of the Incarnation’, thus displaying his awareness that ‘Christian trinitarianism is essentially an affirmation about Jesus Christ’. Packer approvingly cites Orr’s defence of a trinitarian faith:
The doctrine of the Trinity is not a result of mere speculation . . . still less, as some eminent writers would maintain, the result of the importation of Greek metaphysics into Christian theology. It is, in the first instance, the result of a simple process of induction from the facts of the Christian Revelation.
For Packer, Orr’s recovery of the doctrine of the Trinity has been consolidated by orthodox Christian theology since the Second World War, noting particularly the contributions of Robert Jenson, Thomas F. Torrance, Colin Gunton, Millard Erickson, Jürgen Moltmann and Wolfhart Pannenberg. As a result, there is now a ‘renewed awareness’ that a ‘consistent and thoroughgoing Trinitarianism’ is basic to authentic Christian evangelism, nurture and pastoral care, all ‘leading into the life of prayer, purity, and praise, which is our true spiritual health’.
It is clear that, when all is said and done, Packer’s vision of what theology ought to be – and what theologians ought to do – remains anchored to the Puritan tradition, which both affirmed and employed an ‘experimental theology’ to illuminate and engage the realities of the spiritual life. While Packer ranges far more widely than Puritanism in his theological explorations, he constantly returns to Puritan writers as exemplars of theologians who were committed to the Church and to strengthening the life of faith.
Packer’s vision of the purpose and place of theology also has institutional implications. The proper location for the study of theology is not the dispassionate and disinterested world of the academy, but the committed world of the community of faith. Packer’s aspiration for a theological college of the Church of England was that it would affirm the fundamental coinherence of biblical studies, theology, pastoral care and piety – and thus equip future clergy to develop their own spiritual lives, as well as those committed to their care.
In practice, however, most British theological colleges of the 1960s saw these as autonomous disciplines. All had to be taught to meet the formal requirements for ordination; they were not, however, regarded as interconnected components of a greater whole. Packer would, as we shall see, attempt to implement his coherent scheme of theology when he became Principal of Tyndale Hall, Bristol. Yet perhaps more importantly, one of the factors that drew Packer to Regent College, Vancouver, was encountering precisely this integrated vision of Christian theology in action.
We now take up our narrative once again, as Packer prepared to return to Bristol in a new leadership role which would allow him to reshape the theological education of future ministers.