Reforming Church History
Tonight my friend Michael was applying to Westminster Theological Seminary, a school of great importance to modern church history because of its connections to Machen, Ockenga, McIntyre, and Van Til. It is unsurprising that the Masters, Th.M., and Ph.D. at Westminster are generally focused on church history rather than secular history; it is a seminary after all.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am currently attempting to earn a graduate degree focused on modern church history, but I believe a nearly exclusive focus on church history can create an unbalanced historiography and a misunderstanding of the impact of the Church. The visible church did not, and does not, operate in a vacuum. God worked His divine will in history through the Renaissance as much as the Reformation, through the rise of secular ideologies like Marxism and Freudianism as much as spiritual movements like Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism, and in the lives of kings and nations as much as theologians and denominations.
Yet a pure church historian who earns his degree from most seminaries is never required, or even given the opportunity, to study social history, cultural history, or political history. A church historian can often give you a detailed outline of the development of various doctrines and movements over time, but may be weak on the secular culture that enveloped and impacted those changes.
Let me provide a personal example of the value of a social history course I took last Fall. We focused on the “common people,” rather than the elites. I did not realize how much my view of history had changed until I visited my fiancee’s family this past Christmas. The event itself was insignificant, but it revealed something new about how I thought. Her family and I were watching an episode of Poirot (Agatha Christie) when I realized the incredible socio-economic blinders inherent in each episode. Poirot spends most of his time associating with the cultural and economic elite of Britain; typically the only time a member of the lower class earns screen time is when they are the guilty party. Apparently Agatha Christie, and a whole subgenre of late 19th and early 20th century British authors, believed the lower classes to belong to one of two groups: 1) the insignificant or 2) the criminal.
This realization helped me see church history in a whole different light. Who do we honor in our church histories? The pastors, theologians, and missionaries. What do they tend to have in common (and I know there are exceptions…though the fact that they are exceptions proves my point)? They are white men, often members of the cultural elite. How has that shaped our understanding of church history? In all sorts of interesting ways.
I’m not saying that a history by a white male of white men is not helpful or valuable, I’m simply proposing that it results in only one of a number legitimate perspectives on history. Thus I believe that seminaries need a broader approach to historical education. Hmmmm, a liberal arts seminary?
The problem with Westminster’s course of study is compounded by an overemphasis on Reformed history. Once again, I believe Reformed theology to have played a critical role in the development of the modern church, thus it is eminently worthy of study. But of 31 courses offered over the next two years at Westminster, fully 21 of them deal explicitly with Reformed thinkers and thought, while the other 10 are split among basic church history surveys and asian/korean church history (because of the large Korean Presbyterian population at Westminster).
Upon further examination many of the classes are doubles, the same class being offered for both Masters and Ph.D. credit. Even so, once a student progresses beyond the surveys offered on the Masters level and into the Ph.D. classes, 11 of 13 courses have a Reformed focus.
Let me reiterate, I have nothing against Reformed history. Indeed I would love to take several courses at Westminster with Carl Trueman if the opportunity presented itself in the future. However, the balanced church historian should know something about both Methodism and Presbyterianism, the Wesley’s and John Calvin, and the Anabaptists and the Puritans. I’m sure these non-Reformed topics are mentioned at some point in class, but I would suspect they are examined in similar fashion to how a coach dissects the opposing team’s playbook…”know thy enemy.” 
Okay, so the person who points out a problem should also propose a solution. I don’t expect anything huge. Westminster is a school that produces Biblically-centered Reformed pastors and theologians, so, like every other seminary, they will emphasize their perspective on church history. But I wish that students pursuing a graduate degree in church history at any seminary could enjoy a little broader historical perspective. Maybe that means another part-time professor teaching a survey course on social history. Maybe that involves a new class on gendered assumptions in the church.
There is no perfect universal solution. But if we can reform our understanding of church history God’s glorious working out of His divine plan may be revealed in fresh and exciting ways.
PS - Here’s a list of the 20 unique classes in church history offered over the next two years at Westminster:
Survey of Church History, The Ancient Church, The Medieval Church, The Reformation, The Church in the Modern Age, Asian American History and Theology, Readings in the History of American Evangelicalism, English Puritan Thought, God and Scripture in the Era of Reformed Orthodoxy, The Doctrine of the Church in Reformed Theology, The Hermeneutics of Jonathan Edwards, Scottish Presbyterianism, The Life and Thought of Francis Turretin, Reformed Confessions and Catechisms, The History of North American Eschatology, Studies in Old Princeton Theology, Readings in the History of Reformed Thought, History of the Korean Church from Korea to North America, The Life and Thought of John Owen, and Old Religion in the New World: Transatlantic Puritan Theology.
Perhaps my comment is only tangential, but part of your reasoning explains why I’m interested in studying religious history, rather than church history. As I understand it, church history is concerned primarily with the history of doctrine, denominations, and church leaders. Those subjects are all eminently worth of study, and I wish I knew more about them. In particular, the history of doctrine is vital, because ideas have consequences. Nor would I decry the study of church leaders in a reaction against a “great men” idea of history.
That said, religious history provides the opportunity to study Christianity in all its details and nuances. Religious history incorporates religion and politics, religion and society, religion and intellect. Perhaps most important (or at least, most interesting to me), religious history includes the study of popular religious belief.
One example of a work that studies the religious belief of laymen, rather than clergy, is David D. Hall’s Worlds of Wonder, Days of Judgment: Popular Religious Belief in Early New England. Hall’s book examines how much of Puritan doctrine filtered down to the laymen, discussing how laymen read their Bibles for themselves, how they interpreted portents, and what they believed about the sacraments. Another such work is Jon Butler’s Awash in a Sea of Faith: Christianizing the American People.
Unfortunately, I haven’t always adequately discussed my own interest in popular religious belief. A paper I recently sent out for possible publication came back with the suggestion that I add a discussion of how laymen responded to sermons, rather than just talking about the sermons. The reviewer suggested that I read Hall’s book! My only excuse it that I wrote the paper before I read Hall, but I’m certainly going incorporate his ideas into my revision.
One last thought. I’m not sure why popular religious belief interests me, but I suspect that it’s because my identification as clergy or layman is ambiguous. On the one hand, I’m the heir to a line of pastors, I’ve served as a youth pastor for several summers, I’ve been a part of ministerial training, and I’m often preaching or teaching in my churches; usually I find myself identifying with the pastor’s purposes. On the other hand, I’m hardly anything special; I’m just trying to be of service like any layman. Another consideration is that I often sit in chapel and know that the people listening to the sermon disagree with the preacher, and sometimes I doubt whether the preacher know it.
Lincoln, thanks for putting a label on the distinction I was drawing. Defined as such I would also refer to myself as a “religious historian” rather than a “church” historian.
My friend Dave said that his personal experience at Detroit Theological confirmed that the problem is not confined to Westminster or any specific stream of evangelicalism. I would cast my net even farther and argue that taking classes that emphasize Finney, Wesley, and the Baptist heritage at the expense of the Reformed tradition is equally debilitating; I’m talking to you, Mr. Baptist Brider, who walks the Trail of Blood to this day! (-:
The danger is insidious. A single-faceted view of our religious heritage encourages a single-minded devotion to one theological tradition. I especially wonder if it even discourages empathy for believers from other theological streams. A broader appreciation of our variegted religious backgrounds encourages unity among the brethren and in opposition to true theological compromise.
First things first. This blog is first rate. It’s nice to have someone else blog about thinking about church history. An odd and eclectic group I’m sure, although I count myself in that number. Now to the good stuff–agreements, disagreements, and slight revisions.
I think you’re right on track when you wonder what a liberal arts Seminary church history program looks like. We’ll I think they already exist. Some of the most prominent historians of religion who look at grassroots religion–what scholars sometimes call, “Lived Religion”–are Leigh Schmidt, Robert Orsi, Marie Griffith, and Grant Wacker among others (you’ll be studying these folks in short order at TU I think). These scholars are already teaching in divinity schools. Just not Westminster or other conservative Protestant seminaries. The liberal arts seminars go by the names of Duke, Harvard, Emory, etc.
To be sure, some nondemoninational powerhouse evangelical seminaries like Fuller or Trinity take a broader look at church history than the uber-reformed Westminster, but its still largely within their evangelical tradition. I think its such a difficult step to cross for those conservative institutions due to the pluralism factor. Since religious history rests on the hallmark of critical empathy, they tend to find “any” religion as valid or empowering in some form or another. Seminaries, by their nature, make value judgments about other religions.
I’ll close with a ringing endorsement. You’re dead on about the error of reading into the singular importance of church/theology history. Many religious historians have generally insisted on the singular importance of religious contribution to national life. In this view, religiously motivated actors always worked in tandem with men and women whose motivations were not religious. Once cannot tell the story of religious [Christians] contributions to any moral campaign w/o attending connections between Christians and other activists. In short, there is no such thing as religious history that is not also social, economic, political, and intellectual history. If Mark Noll or George Marsden had any influence on Seminary church, history its is this: culture shapes our understanding of church history.
Good to hear from you Ben!
Schmidt, Wacker, and company are excellent examples of the style of religious history that I most admire (along with Watt of course). Indeed, I would have applied to study with Wacker and Schmidt except that BJU grads don’t have much of, heck any, track record at Princeton that I know of, and in order to study with Wacker you have to join the MDiv program at Duke rather than go in straight history. Even if Temple doesn’t work out for my PhD it may very well open doors that I didn’t have access to before.
Admittedly I am conservative theologically, but I embrace the early fundamental/new evangelical orthodox ecumenism. So I would love to see an orthodox church history program that embraces the pluralism found within the diverse body of Christ. The least controversial form of pan-conservatism would be adenominationalist, studying religious figures from a broad variety of denominational backgrounds, which is why I focused on that in my examples for this post.
The question is: Does a cross discipline liberal arts seminary have to be liberal? (-:
Paul,
I appreciate this article very much. You said several things that provoke my mind:
1. You mentioned history as the study of the culturally elite. Regarding Theology, I wish we would not venerate the systematic theologians (Dabney, the Hodges, Chafer, Gill, etc.) to the point of neglecting those who have had (or should have had) the most theological impact on our lives: our parents and those in our church. I remember when I was little and visited two shut-ins of my church; I wonder how much they, with all their affliction, knew God in a way that few of us do. God’s secrets are with the upright, even if they are not ‘accustomed to the use of books,’ as someone described the Huguenots. These kinds of Christians are often overlooked (Fanny Crosby being a wonderful exception). Lets place our old hymnals on the theology sections of our library.
2. I find that some people replace the Bible with a system. Dr. Bell of BJU seminary warns against this. If that system happens to be Calvinism, then they judge Christians of the past and present with that system instead of the Bible. This is why you, Paul, have perhaps met people who consider John Wesley to be a plebeian colliers’ preacher and not a theologian. They obviously have not read his works that are most diverse on theological topics. Besides, I wonder what they do with Richard Watson, the first systematizer of Wesleyan Methodism, whose systematic, issued in the early 1800’s is four substantial books long.
3. It would do every seminary student good if they studied German before they entered Seminary or during seminary (German was my undergrad major; this is from experience). For then they will be able to find the good German Lutherans and hymnists who are often overlooked: Paul Gerhard, Wolfgang Bienemann, Erdmann Neumeister, Philipp Nickolai, Simon Dach, and many others. Their writings were a source for the texts to many of J. S. Bach’s cantatas, chorales, and church hymns. Many of them suffered much during the Thirty Years War. (See the story to Nickolai’s “Wachet auf! Ruft uns die Stimme”—“Sleepers awake.”)The Germans who get the entire spotlight (i.e. Karl Bart) in seminaries are often the ones who wrested the Scriptures to their own destruction.
4. I appreciate your sentiment on Reformed theology. I love reading the Puritans and Hodge too. Your article reassures me that it is acceptable to read from time-tested writers whose interpretations you do not completely share.
-David Quatt
I’m sorry if my comments are too long.
http://www.wts.edu/uploads/images/files/70.1.Trueman.Against%20the%20Dying%20of%20the%20Light.pdf