It’s no secret that theological education is in a state of crisis today. In recent years, faculty layoffs and the downsizing of evangelical seminaries and Christian colleges in the make it hard to overstate the grimness of the prognosis.
Yet as a theologian myself, I find this troubling trend to be a symptom of a larger problem: There’s a growing sense, at least in some circles, that academic theology—along with its students and scholars—is practically irrelevant. While biblical illiteracy and anti-intellectualism are impacting the local church at every level, recent personal interactions have led me to wonder if some pastors take the formal study of theology all that seriously anymore.
One pastor I spoke with voiced a not-too-uncommon sentiment when he downplayed theology as impractical and out of touch with his congregation’s needs. “I don’t read much academic theology anymore,” he confessed, “as it comes out in my preaching in a way that fails to connect with the laity.” This sentiment has been echoed by other pastor friends of mine at various times, with one pastor’s wife suggesting such scholarly pursuits might benefit from a more “accessible” approach.
Such comments reveal a skepticism of rigorous theological inquiry in certain circles that is often paired with a preference for more easily digestible forms of spiritual discourse, untethered from academic institutions. It’s hard to compete with the volume—in both senses—of the spiritual sound bites by Christian celebrities and megachurch preachers churned out to broad audiences. And while some of this public theology at the popular level is good, much of it lacks the depth and nuance that results from careful theological study.
In short, academic theology is not a waste, nor is it obsolete or irrelevant. As one of my mentors, Stephen Priest, says, “Philosophical questions demand theological answers. And everyone ponders philosophical questions.” Yet I propose we take this claim a step further: Questions in every field of human inquiry demand theological answers—and such answers require careful intellectual study. Not only is theology the most relevant of all disciplines, but it may also be the most meaningful. As R. C. Sproul once said:
Everything we learn—economics, philosophy, biology, mathematics—must be understood in light of the overarching reality of the character of God. That is why, in the Middle Ages, theology was called “the queen of the sciences” and philosophy “her handmaiden.” Today the queen has been deposed from her throne and, in many cases, driven into exile.
A negative or even ambivalent posture toward theology fails to realize the valuable contributions of its scholars and ultimately cultivates superficiality within the church and ignorance in our broader culture. But if theology is to play the same vital role it once did—both in the pulpit and the public square—we must first identify what factors led to its decline, and then how we must respond.
In 2020, Wesleyan theologian Roger E. Olson posed a stark question: “Does theology even matter anymore?” It seems this had been a point of discussion with his friend, the late Baptist theologian Stanley J. Grenz, who coauthored Who Needs Theology? An Invitation to the Study of God (1996).
Toward the end of his life, in the early 2000s, Grenz had privately shared his concern that Christianity was entering a “post-theological phase”—a new era that would see the “end of theology” altogether. In many ways, these concerns echoed the warning that Mark A. Noll issued in his famous work, The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind, published only a few years before.
Though Olson protested the prognosis at the time, he has since come to agree, based on anecdotal observations from his “forty years of experience as a theologian.” Olson recounts situations when he discussed theological topics, which he felt were rich in cultural relevance, only for them to be dismissed as mere “academic” exercises, what he notes is often a codeword for “irrelevant.”
Beyond obvious problems with today’s “American folk religion”—the democratization of a populist Christianity—Olson offers several reasons for why theology has lost its influence in our nation. First, he notes a growing perception that theologians only care to speak to each other, rather than to a broader audience, and that they no longer seek a unified voice. And if theologians can’t seem to agree on much, how can people trust that what any one of them has to say is true?
Olson also points to shifts in academic theology in the ’60s, when religious studies departments succumbed to the perception that no one knows or can say anything about God. Theologians moved from discussing God to discussing discussions about God, leading to a lack of consensus among theologians and an uncertainty about the role and relevance of theology in society. As one Time article put it, theology turned from “reflection on God—the proper object of theology —to the human religious consciousness.” Or as Sproul stated, “We have replaced theology with religion.”
Amid these shifts, the authority of theology as a discipline waned in the eyes of the public. For instance, Olson observes, ever since its famous “God Is Dead” issue ran in 1966, no theologian has graced the covers of Time magazine—as the likes of Karl Barth, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Paul Tillich (among others) had once done. This leads Olson to wonder whether the watching world concluded that since theologians declared God dead, theology itself must have also died.
At the same time, legal precedents further contributed to this perception. In a 1975 CT article, “Is Theology Dying?” evangelical legal scholar John Warwick Montgomery explained that the rise of independent theological seminaries was partially the result of the Supreme Court’s 1963 Abington School District v. Schempp decision to restrict the study of religion in secular educational institutions to literary and historical analysis—effectively distancing theology from mainstream intellectual discourse. (Contrast this with the European context, where Wolfhart Pannenberg successfully championed academic theology as a science suitable to be housed in secular universities, for which we have no parallel in our US context.)
Montgomery’s comments on the perception of theology in the US deserve repeating: “Theology today is superficial and faddish,” he wrote. “The important question is why, and the answer lies much deeper than the separation of theology from religion or the theological seminary from the university.” Indeed, “the central source of the problem,” he says, “is that theology is no longer sure of its data”: Scriptural study had been deconstructed to the point where the Bible no longer held enough authority to ground theology.
Taken together, the assertions of Olson and Montgomery offer two vital points for us to consider. To revive the study of theology, we must reclaim both its subject and its source.
First, the primary subject matter of theology is God. British theologian John Webster said, “The ontological principle of theology is God himself—not some proposed entity but the Lord who out of the unfathomable plenitude of his triune being lovingly extends towards creatures in Word and Spirit.” He also called for a revival of theology as it had been done in the past, where “God is not summoned into the presence of reason; reason is summoned before the presence of God.”
As C. S. Lewis once famously stated, “I believe in Christianity just as I believe the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” If all of life, including all educational disciplines, can only properly and fully be seen in light of God’s truth, then theology (especially as an academic, rigorous, and careful discipline) is pertinent to all aspects of life. In other words, if God exists and has created the universe, then theology matters universally.
Second, the source of theology’s data is none other than the Bible, which God ordained for his self-revelation. Webster urged for a return to “theological theology” by engaging with classic Christian texts and grounding claims with sound biblical exegesis. “Scripture is the place to which theology is directed to find its subject matter and the norm by which its representations are evaluated,” he said. And as Montgomery warned, “Either Scripture speaks univocally of God, or the death of theology is a dead certainty.”
Reclaiming these two elements—the subject and the source of theology—must remain top of mind if we are to see theology restored to the place it has historically held in our world. And, thankfully, I believe the winds might finally be shifting in this direction, as theologians today are bringing the truth of God to bear on contemporary concerns and using that lens to engage with many fields.
There have been recent developments in analytic theology and science-engaged theology, for example, which have received wide attention and spurred on a host of publications, conferences, events, and productive discussions. These expanding fields shore up the “scientific” nature of theology—both its language and conceptual content—so that it is better equipped to engage in dialogue with other academic disciplines. This movement, arguably, allows theology to shed light in sociological and scientific fields, providing confirmation on some issues or clarification on others.
One specific area in evangelical theology’s resourcing is on the doctrine of creation. Consider the Creation Project at the Carl F. H. Henry Center and the numerous volumes published in recent years demonstrating how the creation doctrine matters to all areas of scientific concern. Issues like the age of the earth, Adam and Eve, and evolution are still live discussions among theologians for good reason. In the words of theologian John Polkinghorne, “Science cannot tell theology how to construct a doctrine of creation, but you can’t construct a doctrine of creation without taking account of the age of the universe and the evolutionary character of cosmic history.”
Speaking of cosmology—the study of the universe and our place in it—some theologians are making a modern comeback for Christian intelligent design in their defense of theism. This sheds light on adjacent fields at the intersection of science and religion, like biology, physics, chemistry, creation care, and consciousness studies. Some theologians even have something to say about potential extraterrestrial life and its implications for the existence of God and theology at large.
There has also been a revival of theological exploration on the afterlife—a topic that many people, religious or otherwise, often wonder about—as evidenced by a slew of recently released books on heaven, hell, and the intermediate state. Christian theologians are showing they have something vital to say on near-death experiences, and they are also deepening our understanding of neglected doctrines like deification, transfiguration, as well as Christ’s resurrection and ascension.
Another area of revitalized investment is the doctrine of humanity and how it overlaps with almost every contemporary concern. As a previous piece for CT explains, “Evangelical theologians are taking topics that ‘we tend to think of as being more sociological’ … and showing they are, in fact, ‘deeply theological.’” Notable recent works bear out the importance of anthropology for other disciplines from theological and Christological perspectives.
For instance, advances in science, medicine, and technology have sparked a renewed interest in fields like psychology, disability, dementia, neuroscience, and the life ethics of reproductive and palliative health care. Likewise, the advent of artificial intelligence and transhumanism, or “techno-humanism”—which prioritizes technologically advanced human organisms over “mere” humanity—have prompted age-old inquiries into what defines human nature and what separates our consciousness from other creatures or technological entities.
“The more a society becomes technological,” said theologian Gabriel Vahanian, “the more it worries about spiritual questions.”
Such developments pose significant opportunities for theologians to assert an authoritative voice on today’s pressing existential and ethical questions—in everything from politics to public health. And thankfully, we are seeing signs that theological scholarship is indeed descending the ivory tower of academia to engage in vital discussions that impact every facet of our contemporary life.
Theology’s transcendence as an informing discipline for all others is what will continue to draw the minds and hearts of the young—as it once drew mine. Growing up, I longed to understand the mystery of the gospel and the richness of God’s creation, knowing that to truly understand the world, one must approach it in light of its creator and redeemer. As the psalmist states in Psalm 19, “The heavens declare the glory of God,” and Paul tells us that God’s attributes and his character are revealed in his creation (Rom. 1:20). All of creation is constantly pointing back to its creator.
As I studied in college and seminary, I realized theology is not merely a rich methodological approach to questions of vital importance; it is also a culture unto itself and, ultimately, a spiritually formative practice that can bring Christian community into godly maturity. Theology is the gradual process of allowing the word of Christ to dwell in us richly (Col. 3:16).
Because God has spoken and continues to speak, theology not only still matters—it is necessary. Without God’s voice, our understanding of the world is limited. While some secularists may suggest that the natural sciences can give us all that we need, they can never give us a coherent perspective on the world and our place in it, let alone tell us what is important and meaningful.
Today, we have good reason to be hopeful that theology may someday reclaim its rightful place as queen of the disciplines and be restored in its vital role of maintaining the health of our local churches. Theology, when done right, should propel the global church into cultivating a deeper community of faith, along with a public face that calls the world to a higher, better life.
Every time we engage in the work of theology, we echo the words of Francis Schaeffer, who proclaimed just six years after Time announced God’s death, “God is there and he is not silent.”
Joshua R. Farris is in the research faculty at Ruhr Universität Bochum in Germany and is the founder of Soul Science Ministries and Spiritually Driven Leadership. His most recent books are The Creation of Self, The Banquet of Souls: A Mirror to the Universeand Humanizing AI Business.
