Bad Theology. Oppression in the Name of God by Leah Robinson. SCM Press (Norwich 2023). 256 pages. £15.99.
I learned a lot about the Ku Klux Klan from Leah Robinson’s book, and it was very interesting. However, Dr Robinson’s book is not intended as a history book; rather, it is an exercise in practical theology. Practical theology is not a discipline I’m familiar with, and despite reading the first seventy pages of the book that describe the field, I’m not convinced that it has unique qualities that make it superior to other forms of theology.
If I have understood correctly, practical theology wants to analyse the impact religions have on their adherents and through them on the world around them. Dr Robinson contrasts this with systematic theology, by which she means concepts such as the Trinity, the incarnation, eschatology, and so on. The trouble is that she takes it for granted that theology that reflects on these concepts is rigid. ‘I am not a systematic theologian,’ she says, ‘and I don’t think that theology should just be set in stone for centuries’ (p. 173).
As it happens, the Gospel of this morning’s Mass ended with this verse from Matthew: ‘He said to them, “Therefore every teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old”‘ (Mt 13.52). This remark might well describe what Pope Francis is doing with the Catholic theological tradition, for example, as regards ecology, marriage and sexuality.
To Dr Robinson’s credit, she recognises that practical theology, especially in the United States, comes from a comfortable white, middle-class background. It has not made a serious attempt to dialogue with liberation theology, and Dr Robinson recognises this as a failing. In Europe, apparently, it has moved on.
The meat of the book is to expose the ‘bad theology’ of four historical phenomena: South African apartheid, the Puritan colonists of the United States, the Ku Klux Klan and the Jonestown massacre. Dr Robinson does this by scrutinising them in terms of theological concepts, apartheid through providence, the Puritan colonists through election, the Klan through tradition, and the Jonestown sect through eschatology. The selection of the theological concepts appears a bit random: the difference between ‘providence’ and ‘election’ is not great.
D.F. Malan, who was to be the first president of apartheid South Africa is quoted as saying: ‘Our [Afrikaner] history is the greatest masterpiece of the centuries. We hold this nationhood as our due because it was given to us by the architect of the universe.’ The basic theological critique of the apartheid movement in the book was that its ideologues identified themselves with the Jewish people of the Old Testament, though it might well be pointed out that this is a partial view of the Old Testament, omitting the prophetic tradition with its emphasis on justice.
The aridity of this analysis will become clear if we compare it with some words of Archbishop Desmond Tutu from his Nobel Prize acceptance speech. He starts by describing a visit he and other church leaders made to a black township:
We visited the home of an old lady. She told us that she looked after her grandson and the children of neighbours while their parents were at work. One day the police chased some pupils who had been boycotting classes, but they disappeared between the township houses. The police drove down the old lady’s street. She was sitting at the back of the house in her kitchen, whilst her charges were playing in the front of the house in the yard. Her daughter rushed into the house, calling out to her to come quickly. The old lady dashed out of the kitchen into the living room. Her grandson had fallen just inside the door, dead. He had been shot in the back by the police. He was 6 years old.
…There is no peace in Southern Africa. There is no peace because there is no justice. There can be no real peace and security until there be first justice enjoyed by all the inhabitants of that beautiful land. The Bible knows nothing about peace without justice, for that would be crying ‘peace, peace, where there is no peace’. God’s Shalom, peace, involves inevitably righteousness, justice, wholeness, fullness of life, participation in decision-making, goodness, laughter, joy, compassion, sharing and reconciliation.
Tutu’s theology was one that engaged with the world around him and applied its principles to the betterment and liberation of its people. Set in stone it was not.
Francis McDonagh has worked for two leading Catholic development agencies, translates for the international theological journal Concilium, and is an occasional contributor to the Tablet.