Anthropology and Theology

   

  By Douglas J. Davies

This book fosters a conversation between the two intellectual worlds of theology and anthropology by exploring related, often paired, concepts that have usually been pursued separately within those disciplines, as in the cases of incarnation and embodiment, salvation and merit-making, and symbolism and sacrament. Three theoretical themes of anthropology, viz., gift-theory, ethical vitality and rebounding violence, are introduced and developed in a theological direction, and three further ideas, concern[1]ing rebounding-vitality, transcending-plausibility and the moral–somatic relationship, mark my own contribution to the debate. This book is neither a brief history of the anthropology of religion (cf. Bowie 2000) nor a dedicated theological search for models to illuminate sacred texts (like, for example Theissen 1982; Overholt 1996; and Chalcraft 1997). Nor yet does it seek to be what Morton Klass in his introduction to Salamone and Adams’s Explorations in Anthropology and Theology calls the ‘anthropology of theology’, an idea that seems too forced at this stage of scholarship (1997:1). More simplistically, it is a development of topics from my own engagement in theology and social anthropology, with roots in an earlier class text (Davies 1986).

Life-studies

Theology is a formal reflection, description and account of religious experience, while anthropology presents theoretical interpretations of the life experience of particular societies in general. As ‘life-studies’, experience lies at the heart of each; but their fundamental distinction concerns the existence of God. Theology tends to assume that God exists, underlies religious experience, and is the basis for considered reflection, while anthropology tends to assume God does not exist and simply studies the reported experiences of people. I use the phrase ‘tends to’ because some theologians speak as though no deity exists, while a few anthropologists claim religious faith. Still, generally speaking, Christian theology could not function without belief in God, while anthropology operates perfectly naturally without it.

As far as mutual interest is concerned, theology has utilized anthropology more frequently than anthropology has taken any interest in theology. Indeed anthropology has shown a high degree of inhospitality to theology, so that Klass could speak of the ‘great divide’ between them (Salamone and Adams 1997:39). Studies seeking to relate anthropology and theology are rare indeed (but cf. Salamone and Adams 1997). Mission-minded Christian groups have drawn upon anthropological approaches to cultural interpretation, not least to aid in bible translation; and increasing numbers of biblical scholars have utilized social scientific ideas in biblical interpretation and in seeking to comprehend the emergence of Christianity as a sect of Judaism (e.g. Atkins 1991; Overholt 1996; Chalcraft 1997). Lévi-Strauss’s original anthropological interpretation of biblical myth did much to initiate this theological response (Rogerson 1974, 1978; Malbon 1984; Jobling 1984). Systematic theologians, by contrast, are reluctant to admit anthropological notions into their studies, and have tended to have philosophy as their dialogue-partner.

One long-standing critique of Christianity, rooted in the nineteenth[1]century philosophy of Feuerbach, sociology of Durkheim and psychology of Freud, argued that, while theology reckons to be about God, it is, actually, only about humanity. Many others have accepted that appearance and reality are quite distinct, suggesting that since it is too difficult for humans to think directly about themselves they use supernatural images for indirect self-reflection. This image–reality distinction is a recurrent motif in the history of thought. Plato could speak of ideal forms as distinct from their pale reflection in actual phenomena, much as Max Weber would, millennia later, speak of ideal types. Freud would distinguish between unconscious and conscious mental activities, while numerous Eastern traditions distinguish between appearance and reality. Modern science, too, speaks in its own way of microcosmic and macrocosmic realms lying beyond the perceptions of everyday life.

Most theologians define theology as a reflection on the divine as self-disclosed, as a revelation of himself – and, in the mass of theological writing until very recently, it was very much a revelation of ‘himself’. The active and self-revealing God is a powerful creator making the world before, providentially, ruling a kingdom whose bounds are endless. This increasingly gendered perspective has become influential as a basis of interpreting theology as masculinely motivated; but I will not pursue it further, on the assumption that to impose any gender on God is a consequence of anthropomorphism in particular cultures and their linguistic forms. To define God as masculine is, initially, unfortunate; but then to insist on a feminine grammar of discourse only compounds the primal error.

Method

This unsystematic book, conceived as a conversation between theology and social anthropology, reflects Paul Ricoeur’s apt description of situations where ‘understanding and explanation tend to overlap and pass over into each other’ (1976:72). There is no priority of speaker, and theology is not assumed to be queen of the sciences, using elements of anthropology in a servile fashion, any more than anthropology is taken to be the foundational source of truthfulness concerning humanity. Each is regarded as one way of considering life and experience, in the hope that the outcome will conduce to more than the sum of the parts. This theological–anthropological conversation is far from easy, given our taken-for-granted assumptions, shared by family, friends and society, which confer a degree of certainty upon the way things are. Our very identity is rooted in this classification of the world and, if we hold to a religion, its commandments and ethical principles underpin our very sense of self. Theology develops from such religious and cultural roots, adopting a position of authority reinforced by historical culture, church-state, church-university, or social class contexts. Anthropology can disturb this state of affairs, especially through its comparative method and the theoretical analyses it brings to bear upon differing beliefs and practices.

Comparative Method

Because the comparative method assumes that the religious processes and practices of many cultures are comparable it tends to remove the sense of uniqueness of each, and fosters the notion of cultural relativity. For some this makes the venture what I will call ‘difficult to think’, a phrase needing some explanation. In everyday life we do not find it ‘difficult to think’. We know how to approach issues, balance arguments and judge between ideas because our criteria of judgement have become second nature to us. If, however, we scrutinize those very criteria and ask after their validity we encounter the experience of something being ‘difficult to think’ – a kind of philosophical distress emerges when we try to examine the very classification of reality by means of which we normally think. This reflexive thought is intrinsically difficult because it involves trying to think about thinking, and involves an encounter with inaccessibility. In practice we need some degree of distance from ourselves in order to think about ourselves, and it is just such a process that underlies ideas of projection as explored by sociologists of knowledge such as Alfred Schutz (Schutz and Luckmann 1973) and Peter Berger (1969), as well as earlier philosophers such as Ludwig Feuerbach (1957 [1841]). In a similar vein the anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss discussed totemic objects as objects that were ‘good to think’, enabling groups to ponder their own human condition, albeit indirectly, through reflection upon mythical entities (1962). Through the emergence of historical, cultural and scientific forms of critical scholarship such forms of self-knowledge have become available, even if not always desired.

Belief and Methodology

 One basic aspect of theological method concerns belief and the method of confessional theology, which starts from the assumption that God exists and, through a divine disclosure, has revealed truth to some privileged individual or group, making one formulation of belief and practice more authentic than others. How are such confessional approaches related to what is often, loosely, called ‘academic theology’ within university contexts? Each confessional theology possesses its own method: Catholic Theology is often grounded in the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas, with subsequent generations producing their own commentaries and developments, all under a degree of control from Rome. Similarly, Protestant Theology is grounded in the bible and in distinctive interpretations of it, with certain key theologians commanding authoritative status. In many countries, but not England, universities possess Catholic Faculties and Protestant Faculties fostering these distinctions. In 1879, for example, Pope Leo XIII made the study of Thomas Aquinas a necessary part of education for Catholic priests and, in Protestant Churches, the writings of Luther and Calvin have been similarly authoritative, as have later interpreters. One brief account of denominational theology in relation to academic theology is furnished by the Uppsala theologian Mattias Martinson, whose criticism of confessional theology in the Swedish Lutheran context affirms the possibility of theology as the practice of ‘a broad form of human self-critique’, but only when theology is the paradoxical means of hope and of knowing its ‘own immense incompetence’ in so doing (2000:361). His subtle argument on philosophy and theology’s relationship is reflected, much less sophisticatedly, in this present book’s attempted conversation between some anthropological and theological ideas.

While anthropological traditions lack formal confessionalism and possess no ‘church’ of anthropology, there exist various schools of interpretation and practice that can result in relative isolation as, for example, between cognitively focused and symbolically inclined scholars (Atran 1993:48; Keesing 1993:93). The key organizational distinction between theology and anthropology lies in the fact that anthropology does not possess a ‘lay’ following and has no responsibility towards a non-professional body – although, increasingly, anthropologists are seen as having links with and continuing responsibility towards the people they study. Throughout the following chapters some considerable emphasis will be given both to a number of classical texts and to a selection of recent studies that echo a kind of authoritative status within anthropology; and specific mention must be made of Rappaport’s important and posthumously published volume, Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity (1999), to which we return in Chapter 5, and which I commend as the key anthropological complement to this volume.

Social Science as ‘Theology’

Given the relative closeness between anthropology and sociology some comment is needed on the debate between some theologians and sociologists over John Milbank’s thesis that sociology is really a form of theology in a disguise invented by secular scholars (cf. New Blackfriars 1992; Repstadt 1999:141–54). Milbank’s argument, a form of philosophical theology, exhorts theologians not to borrow concepts from sociology, since ‘all twentieth-century sociology of religion can be exposed as a secular policing of the sublime’ (1990: 106). Milbank’s crucial question is ‘whether there can be theology . . . without mediation by the social sciences?’ His answer is ‘yes’ (1990: 246). He is not the first intellectual believer to want to retain the purity of doctrinal discourse and church history; nor will he be the last. His profound conservatism speaks of ‘upholding the fundamentally historical character of salvation: in other words, orthodoxy’ (ibid.). While Milbank is wise to criticize any blind acceptance of sociological ideas as intrinsically more insightful or valuable than theological ideas, he is too eager to assume that the content of orthodox theology is revealed and divinely contained within a single tradition stemming from St Augustine, and that nothing particularly valuable comes to it ‘from outside’. For him one specific Christian theology provides the meta-narrative, the great story of the way things are, and he stakes his claim – ‘by faith’ – to a place in this great history (1990:249). I do wonder, however, if the discussion of embodiment in this book and, in particular, the issue of perceived affinity between Christ and the believer described in Chapter 2 might not be somehow relevant to Milbank’s personal conviction that the death of Christ allows a believer to ‘really “see” sin’ (1990: 399).

But what of perspective and distance? Many Christians are perfectly happy to live within the thought-forms, language and practice of their faith and to defend them against all comers; but other Christians appreciate how a degree of distance aids their own understanding of faith in much the same way as some anthropologists gain a new vision of their own society from having lived in another. Theologically speaking, for example, one of the properties of Reformation theology involves a form of ‘distancing’, in the belief that religion, itself, exists under divine judgement with the theologian existing at the boundary between theology and culture at large – a point creatively held and argued by Paul Tillich. Indeed, it is noteworthy that he, along with several other Protestant theologians who have engaged with the idea of culture, including Wolfhart Pannenberg, are absent from Milbank’s encyclopaedic study.

Pannenberg’s extensive Anthropology in Theological Perspective is, essentially, a philosophical theology of ‘doctrines of man’, and its engagement with social anthropology is limited and often relegated to footnotes even when considering the prime assumptions of theology and anthropology (e.g. 1985: 433, 482, 483). Pannenberg is weak when criticizing anthropologists like Geertz for their emphasis upon the symbolic nature of human life because he reckons such symbolic activity to be personal, whereas culture is communal (1985:318). This inadequately criticizes anthropology, which has long accepted that ‘society’ is prior to individual human life. It is also odd because Pannenberg generally appreciates the priority of society, as his appraisal of Durkheim shows (1985: 405). While the realm of reciprocity and Mauss’s work – important work for this present volume – is largely ignored, Pannenberg accepts the place of religion in society as the domain within which human personhood develops. In particular, his approach to the fact that it is within ‘religion’ that ‘the earthly life of individuals can become the embodiment of a personal identity and integrity that transcend life’s limitations and weaknesses’ (1985:480) relates closely to our analysis of embodiment and transcendence in Chapters 2, 6 and 8. Pannenberg exemplifies Protestant theology’s attempt to address basic issues in social anthropology when developing a theological anthropology; but his underlying method inevitably subordinates the cultural perspective to theology. For him, theology cannot simply adopt data from social anthropology, but must ‘appropriate them in a critical way’ (1985:18). Indeed, what anthropology says about human life must be expanded to show that ‘the anthropological datum itself contains a further and theologically relevant dimension’ (1985:20).

Fieldwork and Methodology

While anthropologists seldom pursue any such expansion, that does not, usually, indicate any lack of existential concern shown in their commitment to the groups they study. From the early twentieth century anthropologists have favoured ‘fieldwork’, a method often described as ‘participant observation’, and one serving to validate the status of a social or cultural anthropologist. From the later twentieth century a growing awareness of the earlier influence of colonial power and the way in which ‘native’ peoples had been treated as ‘subjects’ of study led to an intellectual concern over the values and motives of scholars, and resulted in a ‘reflexive’ form of anthropology. Issues such as ‘Orientalism’, the way in which ‘Western’ scholars classified and approached ‘Eastern’ peoples, as well as a growing awareness of the male orientation of study, led to calls for a higher profile for the life experience of the anthropologist. Anthropology became increasingly alert to the narrative aspect of fieldwork at practically the same time that theology discovered narrative theology (cf. Chapters 2 and 6). This reduction of the divide between academic theology and the faith-reflections of ordinary believers echoed a change in the image of scholarly, aloof and professional anthropologists and in attitudes to the rights of ‘ordinary’ people and their access to the outcome of anthropological study (Bloch 1992b:127ff.).

Confessional Theology and Fieldwork Anthropology

Another similarity between theologian and anthropologist concerns the impact of life-experience upon them as practitioners of their craft, for in a sense, each is a ‘convert’. The church-based life-persuasion of most theologians matches the influence of a people, group or community studied by anthropologists. Even if it is too extreme to compare worship for the theologian with fieldwork for the anthropologist, fieldwork remains important in the social science of religion for its effect upon individual scholars, and matches the religious experience that motivates the confessional theologian. Here, fieldwork anthropology and confessional theology bear a certain family resemblance rooted in experience and shared with others through accounts framed by their respective traditions. Sometimes, as in Liberation Theology in South America and elsewhere and, less obviously but just as powerfully, in local church life throughout the world, religious leaders are constantly influenced by the social experience of pastoral ‘fieldwork’. At least, by acknowledging the relation between experience, opinion and thought, the anthropologist can appreciate the theologian’s commitment, just as the theologian can see the experiential basis of the anthropologist’s life.

Christianity and Culture

These life experiences bring the question of culture to the forefront as a crucial topic of interest to both theology and anthropology. Culture was one of the first concepts established by nineteenth-century anthropologists as the object of their study and echoes a long-standing theological concern with the organization of society. Theologians have, from the earliest days of Christianity as an emergent sect of Judaism, been self-conscious about belonging to a distinctive group with its own scheme of world[1]interpretation and ethics of action. Its growth as a Church in the Hellenistic world led, through Constantine’s Empire, to the Christendom of medieval Europe. With the Protestant Reformation powerful states further accentuated the importance of a theological self-understanding of secular authority and power. Through the imperial colonialization of the Americas and elsewhere Christianity expanded into innumerable cultures and, with the extensive missionary activity of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, its politically powerful presence was marked through Christian denominations across the world and continues to be highly influential even in contexts deemed to be profoundly secular.

Christianity adheres to no single social theory applicable to all Churches at all times, despite individual apologists who would desire it; for Catholic, Orthodox and Protestants, in their Lutheran, Anglican, Reformed and Charismatic traditions, along with numerous independent groups, have all developed distinctive theories of faith and society. One of the ongoing tasks of denominational and ecumenical theology is to engage constantly with this issue, as witnessed by political, economic, ethnic and gender theologies. The late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were typified by Christian social theory generated in relation to denominational divisions and the influence of Christian ideology upon public life. When J. H. W. Stuckenberg, for example, undertook to write what he saw as the very first Christian Sociology, he devoted time to explain[1]ing that ‘Christian Sociology’ could not be a version of Auguste Comte’s ‘positivist’ sociology that denied the existence and influence of God. For Stuckenberg the Protestant Principle of biblical authority underlay what he described as ‘the science of Christian society’ (1881:34). While his was a worthy attempt at highlighting the importance of studying human beings and not simply studying God, as he saw theology largely intent upon doing, he achieved very little, especially when compared, for example, with the German historian of religion Ernst Troeltsch (1865– 1923), who made an immense contribution to an understanding of how Protestantism had influenced Western culture. His posthumous Social Teachings of the Christian Churches (1931 [1912]) remains a significant account of religious group organization and of the process whereby established Churches accommodated to worldly values, only to attract sectarian protest against that compromise, one of the most influential examples of which came in Søren Kierkegaard’s judgement of Danish Lutheranism in the mid-nineteenth century (Steere 1961:16). Under Troeltsch’s influence the American theologian, Richard H. Niebuhr pursued the themes of denominational fragmentation and of Christian ethics (1929), while his brother, Reinhold Niebuhr (1943) exerted considerable influence through writing and personal involvement in political activity. Troeltsch also influenced Louis Dumont’s anthropological study of the rise of individualism, beginning in early Christianity when the individual was emancipated ‘through a personal transcendence’ of people set in a community of equality but sensing a personal relationship with God (1986:31). Here Dumont’s anthropology resembles Pannenberg’s theological treatment of the ‘autonomy of the individual’ originating in the life of faith as expressed, not least, in the Reformation (1985:482ff.).

Many others have advanced Christian social theory, from theologians such as F. D. Maurice (1805–1872) and leaders like William Temple (cf. 1934) to literary figures such as T. S. Elliott, whose sense of growing secularization led him to the conviction that ‘anything like Christian traditions transmitted from generation to generation within the family must disappear’, with the remaining small body of Christians ‘consisting entirely of adults’ (1939:22). While so much could be said historically, philosophically and theologically, I identify four features of Christian social theory to enter our conversation between theology and anthropology, viz. (i.) the idea of Christendom, (ii) the two kingdoms, (iii) the sacramental world and (iv) the Christian individual.

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