Theology encompasses religious reasoning about human meaning and dignity, forming traditions of metaphor, symbol, ritual, and wisdom, expressed through mythopoetic, metaphorical, and philosophical language.

It excels when addressing normative issues, existential questions, and matters of meaning, purpose, and morality.

Truth is unitive, so theology must harmonize with it, complementing—not overriding—science, psychology, or social sciences, while offering insights into dignity, goodness, and meaning aligned with other knowledge.

Much Christian theology lags centuries behind in methodology and intellectual rigor.

Modern realities demand new, reasoned Christian theology and spirituality, drawing from the past but aligned with contemporary knowledge and sensibilities.

The Enlightenment brought science and naturalism and the church pretended not to notice and when it did, declared itself infallible. Wrong move.

Theology must cease masquerading as science, as their methodologies fundamentally differ.

Science employs empirical observation, experimentation, and falsifiable hypotheses to explain the world’s origins, the brain’s functions, or disease cures.

Theology, by contrast, engages mythopoetic reasoning, metaphor, illative logic, and tradition to explore wisdom, meaning, and normative concerns—questions of how we ought to live, not how things are.

The pretense of theological science—claiming authority over cosmology, biology, or medicine—distorts its purpose and undermines its credibility. Theology does not dictate the mechanics of creation or the chemistry of healing; those domains belong to science, which builds knowledge through evidence and rigor.

Theology’s strength lies in addressing existential import: human dignity, moral purpose, and the pursuit of goodness.

It neither trumps nor competes with science but complements it, offering insights into values where science remains silent.

Conflating the two breeds confusion, as when outdated theological models clash with observable facts, weakening both faith and reason.

A mature theology acknowledges its limits, cedes explanatory claims to science, and focuses on its true task: illuminating meaning and guiding ethical life in a world science describes but cannot normatively judge.

Sadly, much of contemporary Christian theology fosters a spirituality that amounts to magical thinking, wish fulfillment, and ego projection.

Sam Harris says, “One of the most significant challenges facing civilization in the twenty-first century is for human beings to learn to express their deepest personal concerns—about ethics, spiritual experience, and the inevitability of human suffering—in ways that are not flagrantly irrational.”

We must find reasonable ways of explaining the meaning of claims about virgin births, creation narratives, resurrected bodies, (etc.) We must learn again how to use mythopoesis and metaphor to explain core Christian claims.

We are responsible for producing an evidence-based theological approach that balances mythopoetic and symbolic thinking and understanding allegory, symbol, and ritual with solid scholarship. This is a broad call for the Christian religious imagination to be transformed by a new courageous encounter with the best of contemporary reason, science, and learning.

What must be avoided is an ideological theology that lacks humility, makes unwarranted claims, and arrogantly demands that reality conform to its narrow views. Any theology that militantly imposes itself on reality without regard for reason and the truth that emerges from lived experience is false.

Theology must embody humility, staying within its lane and rejecting self-righteousness, triumphalism, and the pretense of scientific authority.

The Christian life demands this humility, shunning self-importance and spiritual smugness.

Restoring Christendom or pursuing theocracy misaligns with the gospels; Christianity should invite, not impose.

This humility must shape our theology and how we express convictions, avoiding arrogance or unwarranted claims about reality.

A humble theology aligns with truth, complementing science by illuminating human dignity and morality where facts alone fall short.

How we live and relate to others ultimately reveals our theological depth.

Christianity has self-inflicted damage by offering warped, fantastical, abusive, and destructive versions of itself.

These warped versions cross denominational lines and theologies.

American-styled Evangelicalism bears much of the blame.

Evangelicalism is generally rooted in the Four Spiritual Laws, a literal reading of scripture, substitutionary atonement, a triumphalist, fundamentalist theology, and a strong dose of moralism.

Mainline and Catholic Churches have also contributed to the overall decline with assertions of papal fundamentalism, ritual fetishization, and rigid, arcane institutionalized, ideological theologies that wither when they meet reality.

We must foster a Christianity that is beautiful, but the exact opposite of the above nonsense.

God is not a divine Santa-Claus whimsically giving gifts and doing favors for good boys and girls. Nietzsche and the New Atheists deservedly killed this god.

The real God is a metaphor for an ultimate, transcendent reality that is the source of all existence and the ground of being. This metaphor understands God as the power that sustains and animates the universe, imbuing it with meaning, order, and purpose (logos).

“To apply the term ‘God’ (in the Christian sense) is to say that we perceive a connection between the marvels of the natural world, the moral law, the life of Jesus, the depths of the human personality, our intimations about time, death, and eternity, our experience of human forgiveness and love, and the finest insights of the Christian tradition intuitively. To deny the existence of ‘God’ is to say that we cannot (yet) see such connections.”

– British Society of Friends, Faith & Practice, 5th Edition

This necessitates a rejection of artificial dichotomies between the natural and supernatural. (De Lubac) The spiritual and mundane become indistinguishable, and the two collapse into one sacred whole. Attuning our perception to see this is the goal of any spiritual path.

All creation is an emanation of the Divine. All exists in God, and God is in all. Therefore, reality possesses an inherent sacredness. Since all is in God, all that seeks to bracket out God is ultimately nihilistic.

Forms of panentheism recommend themselves and need to be explored.

We must renew our understanding of Divinity, aligning it with the best of human learning, science, spiritual imagination, myth, and poetry.

The Bible is a set of interconnected stories that weave a cosmic web of logos – of meaning.

To call oneself a Christian is to claim these stories as one’s own – to locate one’s life in some manner in the ongoing narrative(s). To be Western means to have some reference to this set of narratives as well.

Evidential theology proceeds from the conviction that the Bible is not inerrant or infallible – it is a collection of stories that mix fact with fiction, poetry and prose, metaphor and symbols.

The writings are a recorded collection of our spiritual ancestors' understandings of the divine, notions of goodness, human nature, and the meaning and purpose of life. To claim these stories as meaningful and culturally significant, we must not claim them as magical.

The texts were not written to serve as historical, scientific, or even moral documents (as we understand these disciplines today). Instead, Scripture combines history remembered with history metaphorized, expressing sacred myths primarily as sweeping spiritual statements.

Literal readings, uncritical approaches, and a lack of contextual understanding distort the Bible's message, leading to misuse and misunderstanding. Interpretation is always personal within a communal context. Just as there are no infallible texts, there are no infallible interpreters.

The scriptures are not a set of magical books. We reject all forms of literalism, proof-texting, fundamentalism, legalism, and Bibliolatry. Such attitudes must be fully purged from our theology.

Jesus is the architectonic revelation of Divinity and humanity. In Him and through him, we find meaning and life.

The core of Christian living is aligning our lives with Jesus's teachings and example. We must diligently refine our understanding of the historical Jesus to achieve this. This necessitates careful engagement with scholarship in historical Jesus studies, hermeneutics, and textual criticism.

Further, we must move beyond simplistic interpretations of Jesus as merely a sacrificial victim. Concepts like original sin and substitutionary atonement require critical examination and are problematic and unjustified in most current forms.

A deeper understanding of Jesus within his historical and cultural context will ultimately enrich our knowledge and practice of the Christian life.

The early Church’s claim of Jesus’ Resurrection takes various forms. Central to all of them is the conviction that Jesus remained meaningfully present in the community after his death.

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is not merely a historical event to be believed; it is an ongoing reality that invites us to participate in a transformed way of life. It affirms a life rooted in kenotic love—a love that empties itself, pours itself out, and finds its fulfillment in the well-being of others.

The first Christians interpreted the resurrection in the same way as Jewish theology: a new way of living and being had entered the world. If the Christian communities had been challenged to show the body or bring out Jesus, they would likely have responded, “Come see how we live.”

The resurrection claim was a defiant assertion that imperial power could not extinguish the values Jesus embodied—love, compassion, forgiveness, and justice.

To claim and participate in the resurrection was to say that Rome could kill us, but they could not ultimately win. To participate in the resurrection was to join the community that was his living body.

Above all, the Eucharist became a central locus for experiencing Jesus' presence. These ritualistic meals served as a tangible connection to Jesus, reinforcing his real presence within the community.

The resurrection isn’t so much to be believed as it is to be practiced.

The Kingdom of God is not a distant, heavenly ideal but a present reality open to all who embrace love and mercy. It is accessible to spiritually discerning and compassionate people with open hearts and hands.

The 25th chapter of Matthew’s gospel provides a powerful framework for understanding the importance of the works of mercy as central to the fullness of Christian living and as a means of making the Kingdom real.

Jesus explicitly links holiness to our service to the least of these: the hungry, the thirsty, the imprisoned, and the stranger. This group includes the marginalized, the oppressed, the lonely, and the unwanted. It also consists of the difficult, the annoying, and those we disagree with politically, morally, and theologically.

By actively engaging in acts of compassion, we embody the Divine love and become living witnesses to the Gospel's transformative power. Our words may fall on deaf ears, but our actions speak volumes.  

The works of mercy are not optional charitable acts; they are commanded opportunities for authentic encounters and genuine human connection - they are the required way of life in the Kingdom.

“If concerned about sexist implications, use any modern translation of 'Kingdom of God,’ but remember it should always have overtones of high treason. Similarly, to say Jesus was Lord meant Caesar was not. Translate “Lord’ with any contemporary expression you deem appropriate, as long as it can get you killed.”

– John Dominic Crossan

The Church, in all its forms, must vigorously proclaim and defend human dignity and oppose the dehumanizing forces of empire, secularism, and nihilism. Salvation should be understood as wholeness and holistic human flourishing. As Irenaeus reminds us, the Glory of God is the human person fully alive. Moral life is an outflow of the logic of our very nature.

We insist on making Jesus’ rejection of moralism, legalism, and literalism – all of which tempt us to build walls, control others, and establish abusive power structures – central to our understanding of Christian practice and communal organization.

Given our intrinsic social nature, salvation is as personal as communal. It is not a goal to be achieved or a magical moment in time. It is not gained by answering an altar call; instead, it is an ongoing way of being in the world aligned with God and God’s values.

The assertion of human dignity is at the heart of the Christian tradition. Following the Jewish lead, Christianity also sees the human person as reflecting divine realities.

Reflecting on human dignity is a gateway to moral understanding and asserting human rights and responsibilities that form our social order. Our dignity demands certain things from us—how we live, eat, dress, work, have sex, entertain ourselves, and relate to others, both humans and nonhumans, in the world around us.

Humans experience the capacity to be called by something beyond ourselves, something that both speaks to our nature and is yet embedded there. In moments of quiet honesty, we find ourselves with a given orientation – and that orientation offers itself as an approach to our better selves – it is the voice of our nature calling us toward fulfillment.

Morality is not imposed on humanity or revealed by a deity or religious authority. Instead, it is an integral part of our natural identity. Our moral responsibilities and rights arise from our nature (a reasoned, loosely teleological reflection on such) and our relationship to others.

This vision offers a formal framework for moral reasoning. Our motivation for virtue is a matter of integrity, following the logic of our very being. Our dignity and ontological status provide something of a given orientation.

Claiming that understanding moral truth is a function of reason doesn’t mean the Christian tradition doesn’t significantly contribute to that task. The Christian moral vision, rooted in the gospels and other scriptures, contains specific moral commandments and serves as a source of metaethics, reasons why human flourishing matters, and why people should be concerned with it.

The communion of saints expresses the profound interconnectedness of all those who belong to the Kingdom, both living and deceased.

This spiritual union transcends boundaries, uniting followers across time and space in a mystical body with Jesus as its head.  

This communion is rooted in the belief that Christians are incorporated into the Kingdom and the Church through baptism. This incorporation is not merely symbolic but a real participation in the divine life.

The Church, understood as the mystical body of Christ, is the visible part of this communion.

As envisioned by the Second Vatican Council's document Gaudium et Spes, the Church exists not as an isolated entity but as a leaven within the world and a "sign and safeguard of the transcendent dimension of the human person.”

This outward-facing focus draws upon a rich social thought tradition within the Catholic and Anglican communions.

These traditions grapple with the sanctity of all life, the dignity of work, economic justice, human rights, the need to alleviate poverty and ease and prevent suffering, and the Church’s need to fight oppression, marginalization, and all forms of human denigration.

The Church's role is to be a prophetic voice challenging injustice and working toward the common good, offering a vision of human flourishing rooted in the values of the Gospels.

If the Church isn’t counter-cultural, it’s failing in its purpose.

Theology also functions through theurgy, which is understood as sacred work. This work is also called liturgy, where our convictions are enacted in narrative ritual that brings them and us to life. Theological scholarship and liturgy cannot be separated; to do so is a form of violence.

Above all, our theological expression, liturgical practices, and lives should strive for beauty and the capacity to open us to the transcendent.

Liturgy and ritual, the sacred actions and words that shape religious life, possess a unique power when imbued with beauty. Beauty in this context transcends mere aesthetics; it becomes a conduit to the divine, a window into the transcendent realm.

Hans Urs von Balthasar eloquently articulated the connection between beauty and the divine. He argued that beauty is not merely an attribute of God but a path to encountering God.

The fullness of the Christian liturgical tradition, expressed in its seven sacraments, employs rich symbolism, music, art, and language to create an immersive and transformative experience.

The Eucharist is at the heart of Christian liturgy. According to the Didache, the earliest Christians attested that Jesus was present during the celebration of the Eucharistic meal.

Therefore, our Eucharistic celebrations should be frequent and beautiful.

However, we must avoid fetishizing the bread and wine and investing in complicated metaphysics to explain the Eucharist.

Christianity spread slowly but unstoppably for one primary reason: Christians created authentic communities of mutual support and inclusion. Please reread the previous sentence.

The Church didn’t succeed because of theology, and the movement didn’t spread because of miracles. It prevailed because it fed the poor, cared for the sick, welcomed the lonely, and drew in the marginalized.

Additionally, Jesus’ ministry of the Open Table must be central to our communal efforts. One of the Christian communities' earliest convictions was that Jesus was really present at the Eucharistic meal.

Sharing bread and wine creates a sacred space where individuals can experience a sense of belonging and connection. It reminds us of Jesus's sacrificial love and invites us to participate in the ongoing work of the Kingdom. The Open Table fosters a spirit of generosity, compassion, and unity.

We need to prepare for the Post-Church. By this, I mean that we must look beyond institutional structures, denominational affiliations, clerical authority, and the traditional ways of being Church.

Instead, the focus should be on fostering an organic community, embracing sacramental living, and promoting transformative action within local contexts and the broader institutional structures.

For further practical insights on new ways of being Church and structuring communal life, see Blue Ocean Faith’s 9 Communal Principles and Theological Distinctives or The Iona Community in Scotland to see these principles applied.

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A Christianity For A Secular Age
Gregory M.A. Gronbacher