Life-studies
Theology is a formal reflection, description and account of religious experience, while anthropology presents theoretical interpretations of the life experience of particular societies in general. As âlife-studiesâ, experience lies at the heart of each; but their fundamental distinction concerns the existence of God. Theology tends to assume that God exists, underlies religious experience, and is the basis for considered reflection, while anthropology tends to assume God does not exist and simply studies the reported experiences of people. I use the phrase âtends toâ because some theologians speak as though no deity exists, while a few anthropologists claim religious faith. Still, generally speaking, Christian theology could not function without belief in God, while anthropology operates perfectly naturally without it.
As far as mutual interest is concerned, theology has utilized anthropology more frequently than anthropology has taken any interest in theology. Indeed anthropology has shown a high degree of inhospitality to theology, so that Klass could speak of the âgreat divideâ between them (Salamone and Adams 1997:39). Studies seeking to relate anthropology and theology are rare indeed (but cf. Salamone and Adams 1997). Mission-minded Christian groups have drawn upon anthropological approaches to cultural interpretation, not least to aid in bible translation; and increasing numbers of biblical scholars have utilized social scientific ideas in biblical interpretation and in seeking to comprehend the emergence of Christianity as a sect of Judaism (e.g. Atkins 1991; Overholt 1996; Chalcraft 1997). LĂ©vi-Straussâs original anthropological interpretation of biblical myth did much to initiate this theological response (Rogerson 1974, 1978; Malbon 1984; Jobling 1984). Systematic theologians, by contrast, are reluctant to admit anthropological notions into their studies, and have tended to have philosophy as their dialogue-partner.
One long-standing critique of Christianity, rooted in the nineteenth-century philosophy of Feuerbach, sociology of Durkheim and psychology of Freud, argued that, while theology reckons to be about God, it is, actually, only about humanity. Many others have accepted that appearance and reality are quite distinct, suggesting that since it is too difficult for humans to think directly about themselves they use supernatural images for indirect self-reflection. This imageâreality distinction is a recurrent motif in the history of thought. Plato could speak of ideal forms as distinct from their pale reflection in actual phenomena, much as Max Weber would, millennia later, speak of ideal types. Freud would distinguish between unconscious and conscious mental activities, while numerous Eastern traditions distinguish between appearance and reality. Modern science, too, speaks in its own way of microcosmic and macrocosmic realms lying beyond the perceptions of everyday life.
Most theologians define theology as a reflection on the divine as self-disclosed, as a revelation of himself â and, in the mass of theological writing until very recently, it was very much a revelation of âhimselfâ. The active and self-revealing God is a powerful creator making the world before, providentially, ruling a kingdom whose bounds are endless. This increasingly gendered perspective has become influential as a basis of interpreting theology as masculinely motivated; but I will not pursue it further, on the assumption that to impose any gender on God is a consequence of anthropomorphism in particular cultures and their linguistic forms. To define God as masculine is, initially, unfortunate; but then to insist on a feminine grammar of discourse only compounds the primal error.
Method
This unsystematic book, conceived as a conversation between theology and social anthropology, reflects Paul Ricoeurâs apt description of situations where âunderstanding and explanation tend to overlap and pass over into each otherâ (1976:72). There is no priority of speaker, and theology is not assumed to be queen of the sciences, using elements of anthropology in a servile fashion, any more than anthropology is taken to be the foundational source of truthfulness concerning humanity. Each is regarded as one way of considering life and experience, in the hope that the outcome will conduce to more than the sum of the parts.
This theologicalâanthropological conversation is far from easy, given our taken-for-granted assumptions, shared by family, friends and society, which confer a degree of certainty upon the way things are. Our very identity is rooted in this classification of the world and, if we hold to a religion, its commandments and ethical principles underpin our very sense of self. Theology develops from such religious and cultural roots, adopting a position of authority reinforced by historical culture, church-state, church-university, or social class contexts. Anthropology can disturb this state of affairs, especially through its comparative method and the theoretical analyses it brings to bear upon differing beliefs and practices.
Comparative Method
Because the comparative method assumes that the religious processes and practices of many cultures are comparable it tends to remove the sense of uniqueness of each, and fosters the notion of cultural relativity. For some this makes the venture what I will call âdifficult to thinkâ, a phrase needing some explanation. In everyday life we do not find it âdifficult to thinkâ. We know how to approach issues, balance arguments and judge between ideas because our criteria of judgement have become second nature to us. If, however, we scrutinize those very criteria and ask after their validity we encounter the experience of something being âdifficult to thinkâ â a kind of philosophical distress emerges when we try to examine the very classification of reality by means of which we normally think.
This reflexive thought is intrinsically difficult because it involves trying to think about thinking, and involves an encounter with inaccessibility. In practice we need some degree of distance from ourselves in order to think about ourselves, and it is just such a process that underlies ideas of projection as explored by sociologists of knowledge such as Alfred Schutz (Schutz and Luckmann 1973) and Peter Berger (1969), as well as earlier philosophers such as Ludwig Feuerbach (1957 [1841]). In a similar vein the anthropologist Claude LĂ©vi-Strauss discussed totemic objects as objects that were âgood to thinkâ, enabling groups to ponder their own human condition, albeit indirectly, through reflection upon mythical entities (1962). Through the emergence of historical, cultural and scientific forms of critical scholarship such forms of self-knowledge have become available, even if not always desired.
Belief and Methodology
One basic aspect of theological method concerns belief and the method of confessional theology, which starts from the assumption that God exists and, through a divine disclosure, has revealed truth to some privileged individual or group, making one formulation of belief and practice more authentic than others. How are such confessional approaches related to what is often, loosely, called âacademic theologyâ within university contexts? Each confessional theology possesses its own method: Catholic Theology is often grounded in the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas, with subsequent generations producing their own commentaries and developments, all under a degree of control from Rome. Similarly, Protestant Theology is grounded in the bible and in distinctive interpretations of it, with certain key theologians commanding authoritative status. In many countries, but not England, universities possess Catholic Faculties and Protestant Faculties fostering these distinctions. In 1879, for example, Pope Leo XIII made the study of Thomas Aquinas a necessary part of education for Catholic priests and, in Protestant Churches, the writings of Luther and Calvin have been similarly authoritative, as have later interpreters. One brief account of denominational theology in relation to academic theology is furnished by the Uppsala theologian Mattias Martinson, whose criticism of confessional theology in the Swedish Lutheran context affirms the possibility of theology as the practice of âa broad form of human self-critiqueâ, but only when theology is the paradoxical means of hope and of knowing its âown immense incompetenceâ in so doing (2000:361). His subtle argument on philosophy and theologyâs relationship is reflected, much less sophisticatedly, in this present bookâs attempted conversation between some anthropological and theological ideas.
While anthropological traditions lack formal confessionalism and possess no âchurchâ of anthropology, there exist various schools of interpretation and practice that can result in relative isolation as, for example, between cognitively focused and symbolically inclined scholars (Atran 1993:48; Keesing 1993:93). The key organizational distinction between theology and anthropology lies in the fact that anthropology does not possess a âlayâ following and has no responsibility towards a non-professional body â although, increasingly, anthropologists are seen as having links with and continuing responsibility towards the people they study. Throughout the following chapters some considerable emphasis will be given both to a number of classical texts and to a selection of recent studies that echo a kind of authoritative status within anthropology; and specific mention must be made of Rappaportâs important and post-humously published volume, Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity (1999), to which we return in Chapter 5, and which I commend as the key anthropological complement to this volume.
Social Science as âTheologyâ
Given the relative closeness between anthropology and sociology some comment is needed on the debate between some theologians and sociologists over John Milbankâs thesis that sociology is really a form of theology in a disguise invented by secular scholars (cf. New Blackfriars 1992; Repstadt 1999:141â54). Milbankâs argument, a form of philosophical theology, exhorts theologians not to borrow concepts from sociology, since âall twentieth-century sociology of religion can be exposed as a secular policing of the sublimeâ (1990: 106). Milbankâs crucial question is âwhether there can be theology ⊠without mediation by the social sciences?â His answer is âyesâ (1990: 246). He is not the first intellectual believer to want to retain the purity of doctrinal discourse and church history; nor will he be the last. His profound conservatism speaks of âupholding the fundamentally historical character of salvation: in other words, orthodoxyâ (ibid.). While Milbank is wise to criticize any blind acceptance of sociological ideas as intrinsically more insightful or valuable than theological ideas, he is too eager to assume that the content of orthodox theology is revealed and divinely contained within a single tradition stemming from St Augustine, and that nothing particularly valuable comes to it âfrom outsideâ. For him one specific Christian theology provides the meta-narrative, the great story of the way things are, and he stakes his claim â âby faithâ â to a place in this great history (1990:249). I do wonder, however, if the discussion of embodiment in this book and, in particular, the issue of perceived affinity between Christ and the believer described in Chapter 2 might not be somehow relevant to Milbankâs personal conviction that the death of Christ allows a believer to âreally âseeâ sinâ (1990: 399).
But what of perspective and distance? Many Christians are perfectly happy to live within the thought-forms, language and practice of their faith and to defend them against all comers; but other Christians appreciate how a degree of distance aids their own understanding of faith in much the same way as some anthropologists gain a new vision of their own society from having lived in another. Theologically speaking, for example, one of the properties of Reformation theology involves a form of âdistancingâ, in the belief that religion, itself, exists under divine judgement with the theologian existing at the boundary between theology and culture at large â a point creatively held and argued by Paul Tillich. Indeed, it is noteworthy that he, along with several other Protestant theologians who have engaged with the idea of culture, including Wolfhart Pannenberg, are absent from Milbankâs encyclopaedic study.
Pannenbergâs extensive Anthropology in Theological Perspective is, essentially, a philosophical theology of âdoctrines of manâ, and its engagement with social anthropology is limited and often relegated to footnotes even when considering the prime assumptions of theology and anthropology (e.g. 1985: 433, 482, 483). Pannenberg is weak when criticizing anthropologists like Geertz for their emphasis upon the symbolic nature of human life because he reckons such symbolic activity to be personal, whereas culture is communal (1985:318). This inadequately criticizes anthropology, which has long accepted that âsocietyâ is prior to individual human life. It is also odd because Pannenberg generally appreciates the priority of society, as his appraisal of Durkheim shows (1985: 405). While the realm of reciprocity and Maussâs work â important work for this present volume â is largely ignored, Pannenberg accepts the place of religion in society as the domain within which human personhood develops. In particular, his approach to the fact that it is within âreligionâ that âthe earthly life of individuals can become the embodiment of a personal identity and integrity that transcend lifeâs limitations and weaknessesâ (1985:480) relates closely to our analysis of embodiment and transcendence in Chapters 2, 6 and 8. Pannenberg exemplifies Protestant theologyâs attempt to address basic issues in social anthropology when developing a theological anthropology; but his underlying method inevitably subordinates the cultural perspective to theology. For him, theology cannot simply adopt data from social anthropology, but must âappropriate them in a critical wayâ (1985:18). Indeed, what anthropology says about human life must be expanded to show that âthe anthropological datum itself contains a further and theologically relevant dimensionâ (1985:20).
Fieldwork and Methodology
While anthropologists seldom pursue any such expansion, that does not, usually, indicate any lack of existential concern shown in their commitment to the groups they study. From the early twentieth century anthropologists have favoured âfieldworkâ, a method often described as âparticipant observationâ, and one serving to validate the status of a social or cultural anthropologist. From the later twentieth century a growing awareness of the earlier influence of colonial power and the way in which ânativeâ peoples had been treated as âsubjectsâ of study led to an intellectual concern over the values and motives of scholars, and resulted in a âreflexiveâ form of anthropology. Issues such as âOrientalismâ, the way in which âWesternâ scholars classified and approached âEasternâ peoples, as well as a growing awareness of the male orientation of study, led to calls for a higher profile for the life experience of the anthropologist. Anthropology became increasingly alert to the narrative aspect of fieldwork at practically the same time that theology discovered narrative theology (cf. Chapters 2 and 6). This reduction of the divide between academic theology and the faith-reflections of ordinary believers echoed a change in the image of scholarly, aloof and professional anthropologists and in attitudes to the rights of âordinaryâ people and their access to the outcome of anthropological study (Bloch 1992b:127ff.).
Confessional Theology and Fieldwork Anthropology
Another similarity between theologian and anthropologist concerns the impact of life-experience upon them as practitioners of their craft, for in a sense, each is a âconvertâ. The church-based life-persuasion of most theologians matches the influence of a people, group or community studied by anthropologists. Even if it is too extreme to compare worship for the theologian with fieldwork for the anthropologist, fieldwork remains important in the social science of religion for its effect upon individual scholars, and matches the religious experience that motivates the confessional theologian. Here, fieldwork anthropology and confessional theology bear a certain family resemblance rooted in experience and shared with others through accounts framed by their respective traditions. Sometimes, as in Liberation Theology in South America and elsewhere and, less obviously but just as powerfully, in local church life throughout the world, religious leaders are constantly influenced by the social experience of pastoral âfieldworkâ. At least, by acknowledging the relation between experience, opinion and thought, the anthropologist can appreciate the theologianâs commitment, just as the theologian can see the experiential basis of the anthropologistâs life.