γράψω

A few weeks ago, Fuller professor Juan Martinez stated that all theology is contextual. His statement was in response to a question that referenced the importance of liberation theology in the Latin American culture. Liberation theology, in part, is a contextualized theology that strikes a deep chord with Christians around the world who experience deep social and political injustice. For them a theology of liberation speaks to a God who desires to bring them out of poverty and oppression and bring real and lasting freedom. I hesitate to write too much about the powerful school of thought because this short (well, probably really long) blog will not do it justice.

Dr. Martinez’s point was to critique the common idea that liberation theology is contextualized while “Western” or “Classic” theology is not. Just because a specific brand of theology connects well to people in a certain context does not mean it should be considered “less than” in any way. The reality is that all theology is contextualized, whether that theology finds its roots in Latin America, Africa, Germany, or the US. The context always influences the theological discussion in profound ways.

And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Paul was a master at contextualizing the gospel. In Acts 17, we see two sermons or “techniques” of Paul as he preaches the gospel. The first is found in the beginning of Acts 17:

“After Paul and Silas had passed through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where there was a synagogue of the Jews. ²And Paul went in, as was his custom, and on three sabbath days argued with them from the scriptures, ³explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Messiah to suffer and to rise from the dead, and saying, ‘This is the Messiah, Jesus whom I am proclaiming to you.’”

Paul is in a Jewish context (a synagogue), and his approach is simple – he reasons with the Jews from scripture (OT) to prove that Jesus was indeed the long awaited Messiah. For a Jewish audience, this message is powerful, convincing, and even polarizing. It is the message they need to hear, and it lands so well for Paul because it is highly contextualized.

Consider Paul’s sermon just a few verses later. Paul and Silas move from a Jewish context to the city of Athens where they soon find themselves in the Areopagus (Mars Hill) surrounded by a mixed audience of Jews and Greeks. Here is his sermon:

“Then Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, ‘Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, “To an unknown god.” What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by human hands, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mortals life and breath and all things. From one ancestor he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, and he allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live, so that they would search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him—though indeed he is not far from each one of us. For “In him we live and move and have our being”; as even some of your own poets have said, “For we too are his offspring.” Since we are God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals. While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.’”

Here Paul doesn’t reference scripture or mention anything about a “Messiah.” Both would be meaningless to the Greeks in the audience. He doesn’t argue or try to “prove” anything. He takes it back to the beginning and shows his audience that there is one God who created all that they experience. He mentions Jesus at the end of his speech, but not as the long awaited “Messiah” but as the one appointed by God to bring about judgment and, ultimately, restoration.

So Paul is a master of communicating contextually. He knows what message will be most effective with his immediate audience, and he presents in that way. He knows that a Greek audience could not care less about the scriptures and this idea of a “Messiah.” He also knows that his Jewish audience doesn’t need to be told that one God created the world. They already know that.

So with that in mind, here’s an interesting thought: Why do we take Paul’s letters in the New Testament to be so universal and in some way above their context? If Paul has proved himself to be a master of contextualizing a message, why do we think he wrote his letters in a very broad and timeless manner? How many of Paul’s words do we take at face value with out a second thought to how his audience would be hearing those words? And do we really think Paul wrote his letters with the knowledge that people thousands of years later would be reading them without the privilege of hearing the voices of his audience?

My point is that we should think a little harder when we read the words of Paul. Knowing that he is a master at adapting his message to fit the people to whom he preaches or writes, we should take pause before swallowing his theology whole. I know, I know. You’re probably uncomfortable with that statement. I guess I am a little too. But I think it’s important that we see Paul’s theology as being deeply and critically important to his audience, and in the same thought, we need to remind ourselves that we are not his audience.