Two weeks ago, which is, like, ten-thousand years in blog time, Halden observed that even skirt-chasing, hard-drinking, bourgeois theologians sometimes speak the truth in spite of themselves--like Caiaphas did. Adam Kotsko retorted that theologians, as a class, are no more sinful than the laity, and further, theologians should be evaluated solely on their intellectual prowess and ability to critique the church's preaching and discipline.
Hmm...
The problem with the people on Halden's book shelf is not that they're theologians. It's that they're famous. It's hard enough to keep your head about you when you're a lowly community college professor whose students have a crush on you. It's even harder when you wind up on the cover of Time magazine. The material with which theologians work doesn't exempt them from the same temptations that politicians or movie stars face, but it may provide them with a little more immunity. With the exception of Paul Newman, I can't think of an actor who died happily married. Famous theologians probably handle the ego inflating aspects of their profession better than other professionals do.
I wonder if the time and effort it takes to be first rate in any field almost inevitably results in an interior imbalance that breeds bad behavior. Is there only so much heart and soul and brain power to go around, and if true greatness demands it all, then maybe there's not enough left to cultivate a healthy marriage, or habits of hospitality? Then again, there are plenty of non-achievers out there who are also womanizers, crack heads, or emotionally abuse their children. What's their excuse?
It seems like there's a general agreement in the comments that there's a gap between church and academy; the only disagreement is, Whose fault is it? Ivory tower, whoremongering intellectuals; or the materialistic, vapid laity?
On the one hand, I'm not sure we need to assign blame. It's fine with me if the sermons I hear don't sound like papers presented at an AAR meeting; in fact, I would prefer that they not, and I would frankly dread membership in a congregation that resembled an AAR event in any way, shape or form. At the same time, somebody needs to be doing theology at a highly refined and rather inaccessible level of learning that may or may not trickle down over a long period of time in the "dumbed down" mode of sermons and curricula.
Put differently, my brother-in-law and his wife are both civil engineers. I don't need to know the ins and outs of statics and dynamics in order to enjoy living and working a building that can stand up straight and not fall down. But there had better be somebody out there who does know that stuff backwards and forwards. I'd like to be one of those people one day in the field of the history of doctrine.
I'm going back and forth on Adam's fear of
a kind of “Donatism for theologians” that would amount to little more
than an ad hominem argument — by and large, theologians are perfectly
capable of carrying out their theological duties while committing
adultery or skipping church.
If one criterion of a theologian's competence is critique of the church's preaching and discipline, isn't the trade-off a willingness to be subject to the church's preaching and discipline? It's the principle of "The measure you give will be the measure you get," and "Those who teach will be judged with greater strictness." If the theologian's task is to convey knowledge of ideas to students, then I suppose that Adam's right, but if the theologian's task is to form students as Christians, then it seems like there'd be much less tolerance for slippage between words and deeds.
To put it differently again, I am not sure if an adulterous theologian is like an MD who smokes (incongruous, but not so much as to stop me from being his patient), or an attorney who embezzles (who should be disbarred).
In the end though, I keep going back to my own experience with a seminary professor who later left the seminary because of accusations of some type of sexual misconduct (not with me, I should be clear). I wouldn't trade what I learned from him for all the tea in China. Whatever he did or didn't do doesn't invalidate the wisdom he gave me, even though the incongruity was especially high, given that he was in the pastoral theology department. Furthermore, hardly anybody who taught me left academic life for such reasons, and I suspect it's not just because they were never caught.
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