Theology as Science Again

If, as Barth says, theology NEED not be part of the genus “science,” why has it been so designated? It appears that the impetus is an effort to achieve precisely the things that Barth says it does NOT need from science. Barth says, “As regards method, [theology] has nothing to learn from [other sciences],” but a theologian who wants to present theology as a science does so to justify borrowing methodological insight from it. (I think of Hodge’s description of the theologian discovering and arranging the raw facts of the Bible into a systematic whole, a description that applies better to the butterfly collector than to the theologian.) Barth says, “[Theology] does not have to justify itself before [other sciences], least of all by submitting to the demands of a concept of science which accidentally or not claims general validity.” But a theologian wishing to present theology as a science is interesting in justifying theology before the other disciplines and their practitioners. If this is right, then we must be stronger than Barth. Not only does theology not NEED to be brought under the genus “science,” but to do so is already an act of unfaithfulness. (Barth himself makes this move in response to certain understandings of science; analyzing Heinrich Scholz’s definition of science he concludes that “theology can only say point-blank that this concept is unacceptable to it.”)

Barth also, to be sure, has some stimulating and even amusing reasons for insisting that theology should call itself a science. First, it prevents a purely pagan, purely rationalistic idea of “science” to capture the word for its own exclusive use. Second, “theology shows that it does not take the heathenism of [the sciences’] understanding seriously enough to separate itself under another name, but that it reckons them as part of the Church in spite of their refusal of the theological task and their adoption of a concept of science which is so intolerable to theology. It believes in the forgiveness of sins, and not in the final reality of a heathen pantheon.” When other sciences define themselves strictly as non-theological, the theologian smiles and says “Now, then, you don’t really mean that.” Another reason for embracing the label of science, Barth suggests, is that properly understood it lends a note of humility to theological study. Theology is a product of human effort and thought and labor (notwithstanding that it is also guided by the work of the Spirit), and grouping it with other human intellectual labor keeps the theologian in his place.

It is interesting this this regard too that while Barth recognizes that the separate existence of theology as a discipline and the separate existence of theological faculties is NOT necessary to theology, he accepts the situation as a given. He knows that theology need not so exist, but does not seem able to imagine a theology that is ordered differently either conceptually or institutionally. Barth, in other words, does the negative work of tearing down any principled foundations for a separate pursuit of theology, while hesitating to suggest a positive alternative. It is difficult to see why this is the case.