Are You Reading This Public Post In the Privacy Of Your Own Home?
Inquiring into "public" theology
Lately “public” theology’s stock has been on the rise. There are increasing numbers of book-length treatments of “public” theology and the “church in public,” clergy make the case with greater frequency for the “public” nature of pastoring, and some pastors have even received calls from their synods to serve as “pastor of public witness” or serve at seminary faculties as directors for “public theology and public policy.”
I’ve been an unabashed champion of the practice of “public theology” for a while now. I think the particular way social media turned the practice of theology inside out and made essentially everyone (well, anyone who writes things in a social media spaces) a self-published author means that in a certain practical sense everyone is who does the work of a theologian in such spaces is just-so a “public theologian.”
However, if you’ll allow me a digression (and of course you’ll allow me the digression, won’t you, because in the privacy of your own reading time you’ve decided to spend some of that time reading this blog and giving me the freedom to publicly explore whatever emerges, give-or-take… but we’ll come back to that in a while…), we might ask ourselves what this word “public” is doing in front of “theology” or “pastor” or “witness.”
Clearly, the word is placed there to differentiate these theologies or ways of pastoring. Perhaps its primary location in popular discourse prior to its move as an adjective in front of “theology” was the use popularized (?) by John Neuhaus in his long meanderings at the conclusion of each issue of First Things—The Public Square.
Although I take issue with Neuhaus in various ways (a Lutheran clergyman turned Catholic priest who moved from the social justice left over to the reactionary right, how could I not?), I always admired the way he would broadly survey current events as they happened in the “public square” and then unabashedly comment on them.
This, or something like it, is probably what is meant by “public theology.” Theologically informed commentary on whatever shared life is indicated by “the public square.”
Public theology is also probably designated as somehow distinguishing itself from other more ideologically directive theologies (think “orthodox” theology or “liberation” theology), and it is probably also a designation that only makes sense in this era of what we call post-liberalism. That is to say, the way we think about the “public” is vastly different than the liberal era and those that precede it, and probably the best way to briefly summarize how post-liberalism thinks about the public differently than previous eras is indicated in the sheer fact that we have to use the word “public.” It has to be designated.
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So what is the opposite of “public” theology. I’m fairly convinced the answer is: “private” theology.
This assertion will require some unpacking. For starters, there is no resurgence of “private” theology that parallels “public” theology’s rise in cache. No one I know is overtly asking, “But what about ‘private’ theology?’ as counter-point to the rise in “public” theology.
However, there is a long-standing assumption in many Christian circles, a notion especially prevalent in church life and personal piety, that faith is itself “private.” You’re not supposed to talk about your salary, your sex life, or what your faith. Right? Because those are “private.”
This assumption, just beneath the surface of so much of what is operative in church life today, is why so many people of faith at least in American contexts do not share their faith overtly with others—and even more importantly, lack the ability to articulate their faith.
This is probably the other aspect of “public” that is not precisely “private” but I believe is related to why privatization is so important as antidote to “public”—a “public” theology is unavoidably an articulated theology. It requires words, reason, rationality, argumentation, etc. However, in the same way that our current economic system (Neo-liberalism) wants to privatize so much (from public schools to the public square itself) is because it can then occupy, without exception, all the ways that free, public discourse functions.
I’ll just leave this marker right here: perhaps one reason we are talking so much about “public” theology these days is because “public” itself is at risk. Neo-liberalism would like to eat it for lunch and spit out the bones.
Returning to the life of faith, though. More than one church, even if their worship is open to the public, nevertheless operates with a just-barely sublimated notion that the church is a “private” club. No wonder then that almost every church I’m aware of who gets a pastor enamored of “public theology” but was quite happy as a private club finds a variety of ways to suppress the public voice of that pastor, often with repeated results, all of which largely appear as if that church was suddenly nervous because they felt like their underwear was out hanging on the clothes line for the neighbors to see.
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So now let me ask you, if you’ve read this far. What do you think of all this? I mean, presumably if you are enough of an adherent to our cultural milieu to be reading a blog on Substack, you probably protect some portions of your “private” life from public consumption. Neo-liberalism offers many people a good gig, a quasi-balance between a private life and some level of responsibility in the ever-diminishing public square.
How does theology function in your life in this balance between public and private?
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Returning here to the main and final point, if there is such a thing as a distinguishable “public” theology, I would content a major part of it is the practice of articulating (which means you have to use words) in public spaces the theological commitments you would previously perhaps have only carried around in your private mind.
However, where this gets tricky is the same issue involved when people say, “I could write a whole book about that.” The reality is, if you haven’t written the book, you haven’t written the book. Gesturing at the idea is not the same as fully fleshing it out, putting the words together so that they might vulnerably be examined by a set of readers, perhaps a reading public, with whom then you’d have to debate (in public) because you actually thought through your theology enough to write it out, not just have it wafting around insensibly in your private brain.
Furthermore, I’d argue that a public theology attempts to do something. Although this might not be direct (perhaps this is a problem with public theology, it has been at times too direct and could be improved through subtlety and the long game approach), nevertheless a truly “public” theology is in fact set out in order to impact things like public policy, public discourse, etc. We have some ways we talk about this in post-liberalism, like “the commons” that are still just now coming to more “common” attention.
In other words, the rise of “public” theology is part of a larger intellectual moment. I think we are still discovering what it can and does mean for us.
These are some first notes on this topic. I think it’s worth digging deeper into it, especially around the counter-point of the “private” in our lives, which although some of us can protect certain kinds of privacy, even this aspect of our lives is diminishing with the rise of surveillance capitalism. Consider these gestures in directions I plan to flesh out.
My first class in seminary(2015) was Public Theology, for which I'm forever grateful. My take is it's the attitude with which you engage ministry, either expansive or not. My guess is the 'public vs private' question is personal - what I'm allowed to say in public vs my own self-talk and beliefs around theology. I also self-edit when providing counseling, not wanting to cloud issues with my personal beliefs. One example is 'heaven' which many folks hold in a kind of fantasy mode. My own view is very different; upsetting someone in the last days of life is not good pastoral care. It's not "biting my tongue" but allowing for different views, a/k/a expansive.
It would be very difficult if my inner/outer theology were too divergent. I will offer a corrective viewpoint if someone is wildly off-course, but I will not tell them they are wrong, only that they may want to explore and think about things more carefully. I'm interested in hearing more about your ideas on this topic.
I do. I like your outlook