A seminary friend and I have recently been lamenting the current state of theological education. As Paul David Tripp notes in Dangerous Calling (which I am currently reading but should have been required in seminary), the seminary has gone much the way of the university and the rest of the academy: discrete specializations all fighting for academic (and thus financial) priority. That means every professor must advertise her/his field as the most important, and that means producing increasing levels of scholarship (significant or trivial) to support that claim, and that means teaching becomes secondary, and that means bad things happen.
For my own life, it’s had both immediate and long-term repercussions. While I abandoned the thoughts of doctoral work in biblical studies coming down a mountainside in South Korea, the current trends in the field make me confident in that decision. Instead of seeking biblical truths to convey to future preachers — something now relegated to the once-defunct field of biblical theology — biblical scholars are more focused on inscriptions, dissecting tiny portions of manuscripts, and searching for anything that might subvert longstanding beliefs (note, for example, the alacrity with which the field adopted its “New Perspective on Paul”). None of those things has any bearing whatsoever on the life of the people in Pewville, as a favorite mentor likes to say. They aren’t concerned about possible textual variants in a single verse in Jude across the manuscript tradition. They’re concerned with what that verse might mean for their marriage, their salvation, their children. Quite a disconnect from the academy at present.
It seems every seminary or similar institution has a department or school of “practical theology.” It usually houses things like counseling, family studies, preaching, worship, and Christian education — you know, all those places where the theological rubber meets the ministerial road, so to speak. If you want to know what to preach, study systematic theology; if you want to know how to preach, study practical theology.
I think it’s a false dichotomy, one artificially imposed by an overly-specialized academy. You can’t do ministry without knowing the God who calls and commissions you; if you truly know that God, spent years learning about Him, you’ll have no choice but to engage in ministry in some fashion. God is both the substance and the power of preaching, for a sermon is the gospel of Jesus Christ proclaimed in the power of the Holy Spirit. If either element is missing, word or power, logos or pneuma, then it isn’t a sermon — and it isn’t preaching.
As the sermon, so every other act of Christian worship. All worship, whether song, sacrament, or sermon, requires a soul attuned to the Spirit of God enabled by a theological vocabulary to engage with the Divine. (We cannot praise Jesus if we do not know his name, after all.) For this reason, many authors are once again reminding us of two core truths: orthodoxy leads to orthopraxy, and theology must result in doxology. If our beliefs about God are right (orthodoxy), then we will do the right things based on those beliefs (orthopraxy). What forms the basis of orthopraxy, those right actions? Doxology, praise of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Our beliefs, our paradigms, our knowledge — in short, our theology — must bring us to our knees at the foot of the cross. If it does not, it is a useless mind game and nothing more.
This is why all theology must be practical. Every ounce of the finest scholarship we can muster should be used by that body of believers at worship, the Church. If it cannot be put into practice in some fashion, explicitly or implicitly, it is at best a distraction and at work a useless egotism. That’s why I advocate for “practicable theology,” theology put into use by a local congregation seeking to praise an Almighty God. We can know words about God without knowing the Word of God, and that is a grand temptation and greater tragedy for all those who inhabit academia.
We cannot let our church members fall into the same trap. We, as shepherds of the flock, must give them a practicable theology which matters in their daily lives, a theology that enables them to walk in worship, to become living sacrifices offered to our Holy God.