Alister McGrath has written a remarkable book. Its subtitle promises a discussion of the ‘origins, development, and function’ of Christian doctrine. On little over 160 pages, this seems rather ambitious. Yet, in reality, the book offers more not less than its title suggests. In a world where doctrine can sometimes seem the most easily dispensable part of Christianity, McGrath undertakes something like a comprehensive apology for this dimension of the Christian faith. His intention becomes clearest in his brief conclusion, where the author reflects on the future of Christianity and issues an emphatic plea for the abiding necessity of doctrine despite or rather because of, the eclipse of ‘cultural Christianity’: ‘The role of doctrine as the means of safeguarding and articulating the Christian vision is integral to the future of a church that needs to offer a rationale for its future which transcends its “traditional” social roles’ (p. 166).
This commitment provides a useful hermeneutical lens for the seven chapters that make up the body of the book. The purview of McGrath’s account is incredibly wide. The book contains historical discussions, notably about the origins of Christianity and the emergence of doctrine in the Early Church, but the author also offers illuminating comments on later periods, such as the Reformation and the modern critique of doctrine. There are dense theological sections in which key doctrines are expounded against their biblical background and in view of their role in the lives of individual Christians and the Church. Central for McGrath is Christology – his view of doctrine is unashamedly Christocentric. Ultimately, both the emergence of doctrine and its continuing relevance for Christianity derive, in his telling, from the unique, central place the person of Jesus Christ occupies in this faith community. In addition, the author draws on philosophy, sociology, cultural analysis, and affect theory to explain the relationship between doctrines and the Christian life. His interlocutors range from Athanasius to George Herbert and Jonathan Edwards, and from Karl Popper to Mary Midgley and Charles Taylor, to mention only the most prominent names.
One of the most fascinating aspects of McGrath’s presentation is his exploration of the parallels between Christian doctrine and the natural sciences. Given the author’s expertise in both fields, he plays to his strengths here. There are few others who could draw out these analogies with equal competence. That said, McGrath is careful to inscribe his own argument into existing scholarly accounts. For example, he draws on research by Christoph Markschies and others to compare early Christian theology with a ‘laboratory’. The seemingly belligerent polemicists of the Patristic era are thus turned into quasi-scientists competing for the best theoretical account of the experience generated by their still novel faith, and the development of the Church’s doctrines appears as a process guided by the shared assumption that doctrines are needed for the best possible articulation of the faith.
It is arguable that this parallel has its limitations. For all their competitiveness and institutional rivalries, modern scientists agree that research is an open-ended process guided above all by shared methodological rules. Some Christian theologians admittedly practised an analogous approach to their work. Origen of Alexandria, for example, often presents a range of possible answers to doctrinal questions before offering his own preferred solution. The same attitude was not, however, universally shared in the Patristic era or in any later period of doctrinal history. To cite but one example, Athanasius’ opposition to ‘the Arians’ was a simple binary of true vs. false, a struggle of orthodoxy against heresy. In fact, Origen’s measured approach to doctrinal truth made him the target of the shrill criticism of Jerome who suspected (or insinuated) that Origen harboured sympathies for the views he did not immediately repudiate.
In the Reformation period, we find the probing spirit of scientific discovery in individuals such as Philipp Melanchthon, whom McGrath discusses with evident sympathy, but less in Martin Luther, whose influence nevertheless looms large over subsequent developments. Luther’s infamous rebuttal of Erasmus is in its entirety inspired by the deep conviction that theology is not a tentative search for the best possible answer to difficult questions but the acceptance of revealed truth whether we like it or not.
This limitation does not, however, invalidate McGrath’s analogy. He is at his strongest where he questions the narrow confines of modern epistemic categories and appeals to an older, more capacious conception of human knowledge. Christian doctrine, for McGrath, is theoria in the classical sense going back to Plato and Aristotle. As such, it is not merely ‘theoretical’ but embraces a sense of awe and wonder, and comes with important practical and spiritual implications. Set within this horizon, the parallel between doctrinal development and the generation of scientific knowledge illuminates both processes and helps overcome the popular but facile dichotomy of dogmatic and scientific thought.
Throughout his book, McGrath shows a preference for the ‘both and’ over the ‘either or’. He is generous in his assessment of other scholars’ work; his criticism is usually reserved for views that are too limited to do justice to the breadth and diversity of phenomena. This is particularly evident in his treatment of Lindbeck’s by now classic The Nature of Doctrine, first published in 1984. McGrath cites various researchers who have poked holes into Lindbeck’s influential distinction between cognitive-propositional, experiential-expressivist, and cultural-linguistic conceptions of doctrine. He notes that Lindbeck’s dependence on the cultural theorist, Clifford Geertz, today seems dated and that his presentation of both the propositional and the experiential-expressivist models hardly goes beyond the cliché.
Yet McGrath’s ultimate reason for turning on Lindbeck lies elsewhere. Why, he asks, should we have to choose between what seem legitimate dimensions of doctrine? The history of doctrine can hardly be understood without assuming that for most participants in those debates doctrines have an external referent. Doctrinal controversies cannot be understood unless we accept that doctrines have some propositional content. At the same time, it is a crude misreading of traditional theology to miss the subjective, affective dimension, which is always present alongside even seemingly abstract theological reflections. Thus, the ‘experiential-expressivist’ is hardly the preserve of liberal theologies in the wake of Kant and Schleiermacher.
This tendency to embrace viewpoints that others have presented as mutually exclusive can leave exasperated the reader trying to identify in McGrath’s book a specific theory of the nature of doctrine. It can seem that, wherever his affirmation of some tenet would make the rejection of an alternative claim necessary, McGrath instead finds a way to accept them both. The reason for this tendency may well be that the author does not intend to offer one specific conception of the nature of doctrine but instead aims for a maximally capacious account of Christian doctrines in their various dimensions while accepting that such a project may inevitably involve a degree of eclecticism.
In his Preface, McGrath recounts how the present book is the fruit of many decades of work in the different roles and responsibilities the author took on in the course of his career. This long period of gestation is evident on every page of the book: in the depth of engagement, the wealth of learning, and the mature judgment on a swath of issues. While not every reader will agree with everything McGrath writes, few will go away from reading the book without a profound sense of gratitude for the insights McGrath has brought to his topic.
