Interacting with God of the Oppressed 4 — The Social Context of Theology

I am working my way through James Cone‘s God of the Oppressed. Come join me on my journey as I learn about Black Liberation Theology.

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If I may be honest, I have, and continue to, struggle with how to interact with this chapter of James Cone’s God of the Oppressed. And what I’m not quite sure is if it is that something in Cone’s writings has changed in this chapter, or if it is because there is something inside me that has changed in how I read this chapter. Part of it, might be my reacting to the language he chooses to employ in this chapter. For example, referencing Marx, Cone writes,

Since most professional theologians are the descendants of the advantaged class and thus often represent the consciousness of the class, it is not difficult to conclude that their theologies are in fact a bourgeois exercise in intellectual masturbation. (pg 43)

I think the slightly graphic and crude language has just irked me the wrong way.

Also, I find myself starting to get annoyed by his broad strokes definition of White theology, as if all White theology is the exact same colour white and that all White theology looks like what Cone describes. It’s beginning to feel a bit like a caricature and perhaps even a bit racist. Of course, I have to recognize two things: 1) Cone is talking about American theology in the 20th century, which is not the same as theology in the post-modern 21st century which, at least in my experience, has been much more open to listening to a multitude of voices (of course, that could be a Canadian thing). And 2), we can be in danger of doing the same thing Cone does, that is,  of lumping all of Black theology together as if it is all one shade and assume that all Black theologians agree with Cone.

So I apologize for how long it has taken to put this post up.  I promise, the next installment will be more timely.

In this chapter, Cone introduces a second dialectic (the first dialectic was between Scripture and experience), a dialectic between theology and social context. Cone briefly sketches out the thought of Ludwig Feuerbach, and Karl Marx, using their philosophical writings to build a foundational principle of Black Liberation Theology: the principle that theology [in Marx, thought] “has no independence from social existence.” (pg 39)

According to Cone, all theology is ultimately “political language.” That is, “What people think about God, Jesus Christ, and the Church cannot be separated from their own social and political status in a given society.” (pg 41)

And Cone is absolutely right. The theology done in a North American (in this case, Canadian) context will look different from theology done in an Asian context. Theology done in a post-modern society will look different than theology done in a pre-modern society, and so forth.

Cone then looks at the three main ways the American church has done theology. He argues that how the American churches have historically dealt with slavery and racism is an indicator of how they have done theology with, but mainly without, thought or interaction with the Black experience. These three ways are:

  1. Ignored slavery (in 19th century), and now (20th century) ignore the Black experience and thoughts of Black theologians. Examples here include Jonathan Edwards and in modern times Paul Tillich; in terms of denominations Cone points to the Anglicans, Presbyterians, Baptists and for a time, the Methodists (pg 43).
  2. Justified slavery on theological grounds. Examples include Cotton Mather, George Whitefield. In terms of denominations Cone points to the Methodists, and Baptists.
  3. Condemned slavery (19th century), and now (20th century) actively seek to engage and seek out the Black perspective when doing theology. Examples include John Woolman, Theodore Weld, and in modern times Frederick Herzog.

And here is where I wish Cone had a few more footnotes. Cone suggests that men like Billy Graham and Norman Vincent Peale are examples of the second group. He writes,

Of course, their [Graham and Peale] of the gospel is not arrived at through an open encounter with the biblical message, but is exclusively determined by the continued social and political dominance of whites over blacks. They are the best examples that religious conservatism and white racism are often two sides of the same reality. (pg 46).

Can someone provide me with some proof of this? It is a heavy charge that really needs to have documentation behind it, which Cone fails to provide here. I had been under the impression that Graham had done quite a bit to break down racial barriers.

Cone later writes, “Because white theologians live in a society that is racist, the oppression of black people does not occupy an important item on their theological agenda” (pg 47) My question, is this absence on the theological agenda specifically a result of racism or is it just an innocent result of the social context of theology? We work with the ‘big’ (most influential) thinkers, because there is only so much time, and we can’t all study every single theological system and theologian that has ever existed. Like it or not, Western theology has and continues to be greatly indebted to dead, mainly German, male white guys.

And while Cone says that White theology has been more focussed on definitions of minutia rather than on the practical acts of freeing the oppressed, feeding the hungry, and comforting the poor, I would suggest that a) that’s not just a ‘White’ issue, but an ongoing tension between theoretical and practical theology that will happen in every culture, and b) there is a place and a need for wrestling with the minutia, for ultimately, it should edify and teach the church. Both the practical and the theoretical are necessary and they shouldn’t be pitted against each other.

 

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4 Responses to Interacting with God of the Oppressed 4 — The Social Context of Theology

  1. On Billy Graham, Cone is referencing more of Billy Graham’s all too cozy relationship with Richard M. Nixon, who at the time, worked openly to slow down racial integration in schools through the use of the Southern Strategy.

    You have to be quite familiar with American politics at Cone’s point in history to know this.

  2. I agree with Amanda. Facts like that aren’t just important. They’re necessary.

    Rod, I appreciate the way you admit your own confusions. And what you don’t know.

    I tend to like most of the racy metaphors. In science (a first love of mine), many scientists are ganging up on Dawkins for his racy anti-theist rhetoric. I like it. I’m a believer. But I like it. On the other hand, it’s true that this racy stuff (I’m guilty of it) diminishes and confuses the finer distinctions and the spectra of differences. Dawkins really is hurting science. And Cone might not be helping careful theologians. Like the care you (Rod) took to note different shades of white theology. John Woolman is a personal hero. Quaker that I am. In part.

    But I really don’t think that John Woolman is a good representative of any theology at all. White or black. Green or yellow. Mars or outer space or human. Woolman was an empath. He felt. And acted. That’s not the realm of cognitive theology. To place John Woolman into a category of cognitive theology of any kind is a form of abuse. It’s an academic theologian (Cone) abusing simple human empathy by cramming it into a cognitive-theology box. Some people don’t need all this hifalutin cognitive stuff. They feel. And do.

    My bias.

    Jim

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