One of the most disturbing facets of our theological age arises from our encounter with relativism. Is the Church with its theology affected by the relativity that characterizes almost everything else? Do we have a stable point from which we can resist the corroding influence of a relativism which threatens the very heart of the Gospel and the Christian faith? Are we faced with the threat of relativity in such areas as the relationship between Christianity and the religions of the world (a relativism that takes the name of syncretism), the authority of Holy Scripture, and the confessions of the Church?
Sometimes one could suspect we are confusing the simple truth by making horribly complicated what is revealed to and known by children. Have the many questions that intrigue the theologians slowly created a doubting generation of churchmen? When Calvin was writing on the resurrection, he remarked that he felt ashamed at having to use so many words to discuss so clear a matter. Could we be making matters which have always been hard and fast in our convictions now suddenly problematic? Do we still know what orthodoxy means? Is not the struggle against all the new forms of disbelief not exactly the same as that against the old modernism? Such questions could imply a sharp criticism of today’s theologians.
When Roman Catholicism was engaged in its own fight against modernism, there was a rash of cries against relativism and modernism as these were discovered in almost every corner. A Roman Catholic brand of “heresy hunting” took place out of a deep fear of relativism within the bulwark of Roman orthodoxy. The hunt was over ere long, and it was then admitted that many problems remained for the orthodox, from which even they could not retreat. In short, a reduction of fear against the threat of relativism did not for long hide the fact that real problems did exist for which there was no quick and simple solution.
When we become aware of the many problematic issues that are being discussed today, we ought not to be too quick to run from them under the cover of the threat of relativism. Engagement with problems does not mean that a theologian is throwing over the certainties of faith. We could, by declining to enter into the problematics of our day, only confuse the issue for a future generation.
When we think about relativism and its dangers, we must keep alert on two fronts. First, we must be keenly aware of the dangers that are implicit in the problems. We must not overestimate ourselves: “Let him who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.” In many of the theological problems that engage our study, there is a power to set us on a series of consequences for our own thought. First, we may study them objectively, without their even touching our faith. We know, supposedly, that children alone truly understand the things that are hidden from the wise. But gradually, one problem leads to another. They multiply and draw ever closer to the center of things. Then there arises a kind of uncertainty, even doubt, and one finally feels inward restlessness and tension. Finally, one can be led to a personal divorce from the traditional faith. All of life can then become surrounded by question marks. By this time, relativism has infected the whole man.
It is, then, necessary to remember that we ought not to play with problems in theology. What begins with intellectual sport can end in a most serious encounter with unbelief. Sometimes we do not have hold of problems, but problems have hold of us. I feel that in our day with its flood of complex problems, theologians and simple Christians must be warned. In the face of our encounter with the problematic issues, the perseverance of the saints takes on a new and important reality.
But there is another side to the matter of problems. We are not only to be alert to their danger. It is just as important that we be not afraid of problems. The Christian perspective has never been at home with the ostrich’s posture. In the cultural situation of our time, we must—in faith and in answer to our calling—accept in full the challenge of all the new problems that face the Church and its theology. Moreover, we must take care that we do not level the charge of relativism too quickly at those who are honestly and responsibly facing the problems that exist. One must not begin talking about apostasy the moment he observes someone truly involved with problems. The danger of apostasy is always real. But let us remember that the apostles themselves were accused of apostasy (Acts 21:21). When we point a finger at apostasy, let us be sure that the Gospel is really endangered. For as surely as apostasy has been a reality in the Church, so have men used traditionalism and confessionalism to resist the power of the Gospel as it led the Church into new times and new ways.
With care for both of these fronts, the Church can walk its way into new situations with courage and faith. In its continual study of the Bible, it will discover new truths and new slants to old truths, aware that all the light of the Gospel has not once and for all been captured in the past. I have in mind the profound reflection given these days to the doctrine of election, to the doctrine of the last things, to the doctrine of Holy Scripture, and to the problem of hermeneutics. Theology has a special calling here. And believers ought not to be afraid of having theologians occupied with new questions. Faith is indeed child-like. But this must not mean that we need be afraid of renewed Bible study. Now more than ever, we must break with the anxieties and angst of our modern world and act, as believers, in faith. Ours must be a faith that does not fear and therefore is able to face problems in complete honesty and realism. Here too, perhaps especially here, we must remember the prayer of our Lord: “I do not pray that Thou wilt take them out of the world, but that Thou wilt protect them from the Evil One.” This world of ours with all its problems!
