Relational theology: what does the buzzword mean?

Have you heard of relational theology yet? Its advocates certainly want you to. With some caution, I’m willing to put myself in that camp.

It intends a Christianity that describes God as a more relational being than we might have thought. It’s intended to sponsor a more ‘relational’ way of doing church. It's an aspiration to have a theology that thinks this through intentionally.

But here’s the first problem: every Christian tradition could claim the word ‘relational’ for itself, and it’s almost impossible to disqualify any of them. Any Christian tradition will hold that “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believes in him shall not perish”. That pretty much enables every church to appropriate the term ‘relational,’ and nothing can take it away from them.

Generally, when I speak to people who subscribe to relational theology, and I ask them what it consists of, they struggle to answer or look pretty blankly at me. The answer is usually minimal: God wants to have a relationship with us. I’ve sat through seminars on relational theology quite unable to pinpoint any clear thought in it, and the whole thing has seemed to have a hermeneutic of fluffy thinking. There’s a belief that awkward bits of the Bible are not awkward if you have a relational theology, but it can seem a bit unstructured, as if it approaches the Bible with no more strategy than hoping for a brainwave for a relational interpretation. You have to search harder to get a clearer answer on what relational theology actually is.

So what are proponents of relational theology generally laying claim to that could make them distinctive? What does that buzzword mean to them? If you could put the ingredients on the label, what are they? There isn’t someone who can decide that for us, and it can feel a bit like trying to nail jelly to the wall.

I’ll try to put a few things together, the good the bad and the ugly.

Method

There isn't a single clear method of reading Scripture to produce these perspectives. I think some of the people advocating relational theology now, saying they are reading the Old and New Testaments through a 'relational lens,' will be the same people who formerly said they were reading through a 'Christ-centred lens.' I can't tell whether for some of them this is more or less the same thing renamed. I can't tell whether it broadens or narrows the reading lens. Is it broadening the lens to bring a loving Father more into view as well as Jesus - good if so. Or is narrowing the lens to keep in mind only the parts of the Gospel's Jesus that we find most 'relational'? It could mean different things to different expositors.

Criticism of classical theism

Pushing against the deist-type idea that God is aloof and distant, relational theology emphasises that God is intimately involved in our lives up close and personal. That is to say, God affects us and we literally affect God. Our view of the image of God needs thinking through now. This sees the Imago Dei as a relational attribute. We are relational beings with family and friends, and we are made in God’s image, and therefore God is a relational being. And we can affect God as God can affect us.

Even though God is unchanging, yet God can be pleased or displeased. Thus, if we destroy the ecology of the world He made, God is genuinely displeased. If we love one another as Jesus loved us, God is genuinely pleased. This isn’t taken to be metaphorical language in relational theology. As such, this movement is drawn to story, to telling the biblical narratives in which God proclaims his feelings towards people. Stories are better at conveying character and emotion.

This is quite different from classical theism which would be rather critical of all that. Classic theism has had a Neoplatonic influence which some forms of relational theology reject in order to emphasise that God’s feelings are real and we can influence them. There is less attention to aseity, immutability, and so on, or there is even a repudiation of philosophy. A relational theologian might assert that such a God is arrived at by cold reason, a God who is basically satisfied with correctly performed rituals, and doesn’t feel our sorrows.

In ancient Greek thought, perfection is static and can’t be improved upon. In relational theology, creativity and messy interaction, rather than perfection, are the order of the day. Working on a theology of what perfection might mean to God is not typically a pursuit. Talking about love is a primary pursuit. Relational theology tells stories of a loving God who relates to each of us, person to person.

The transcendence of God may be downplayed to emphasise a very ‘relational’ form of immanence. This is justified by this mental framework: God created relational human beings to be relational with Him and with each other. As a theology, it’s an attempt to give earnest thought to how God is actively involved with us person to person.

Sometimes – not always – this comes with an emphasis on the existence of free-will and social Trinitarianism. Sometimes, I say, because all kinds of theologies claim a bit of relational theology. This is unsurprising as any branch of Christianity could claim that God is relational, but it is more likely to be claimed within those who advocate Arminianism (but that doesn’t exclude some Calvinists from the fold), or some Wesleyans and holiness movements, or feminist theologies, or liberation and post-colonial streams, some process theologians, some open theologians. Most are Trinitarians, but some are Oneness Pentecostals. And there’s a risk of a pick and mix approach to this. A bit of this theology, a bit of that theology.

Benefits

Advocates of relational theology claim its benefits.

Hermeneutics

On method. Ideas such as Church being the Bride of Christ may be more accessible if presented in relational terms, as something that brings joy to the heart of God as a wedding does, rather than in terms of motifs and symbols as might be the case in classical theism. It's a platform for preaching that God delights in weddings because God is love, to illustrate what God is like. This reading method is once place where relational preaching is distinctive.

Real-life comparisons

Compared to other theologies, it is easier to draw practical implications for discipling together, and provides greater stimulus to do so. I'm not sure, however, how well this describes a greater stimulus for being active. There have always been active Christians before the phrase was coined, and outside circles where it us used. I think there must be other drivers that need to be credited.

It is easier because we can rely on the evidence of our own eyes to see relationality in parents and children, family and friends. If we describes God’s love for humanity as being like a parent’s love for their child, it’s easier to explain than abstract theology. And it’s easier then to suggest we need to actively reciprocate in some or other practical ways.

Pre-eminent love

This idea that God’s pre-eminent characteristic is love is a bit of a cornerstone, although in some versions justice for the oppressed is a higher priority. Many Christians would never have thought of God having a pre-eminent characteristic in the first place, but this is rather important in relational theology. You’ll hear less about the final judgment compared to other traditions. You may hear nothing at all about it. Indeed, I wonder if the idea that God is primarily loving is partly a reaction to depictions of God that convey very little in the way of love. Perhaps God is a balance of attributes, rather than having primary and second ones. Certainly, the apostle Paul stressed the love of God, so it’s entirely fair that we should stress it too, whether it’s pre-eminent or not. Relational theology is intentional about doing so. In versions I’ve personally encountered, the theme is God’s love being unconditional, no strings attached, and steadfast, always reliable.

A God who mourns

Another claimed benefit is that it does help pastorally to speak of a God who mourns when we mourn, who cares about our tears. Advocates would say that classical theism does not bring as much hope and comfort as relational theology, although that seems perhaps insulting to some wonderfully pastoral pastors who are classical theists. The point is that one is equipped with a moral pastorally engaging message. God notices us and cares. Jesus wept. 

Worship that changes us

A major claim to a benefit is that it reframes what we worship. If we worship a distant God, we may act like dispassionate believers. If we worship a God who can be pleased by us, we may be keen to do so. (I did say ‘may’. It can adversely result in passive believers who think that God is so pleased with us that we needn’t worry about the effort of discipleship.) But I’m sure it is generally true that we are inclined to become a bit like our object of worship. Someone whose worship expresses that God is pleased with war is more likely to be warlike. Someone whose worship emphasise that God wants to heal us is less likely to be warlike themselves. Relational theology is pleased to present as an object of worship a God whose pre-eminent characteristic is love, and expects church members to be loving to one another.

Battling with sin?

And to those worried about their battle with sin, the pastoral message of relational theology is: don't fret about it. Just as a child’s naughty moments don’t dim their parents’ love, neither do ours dim God’s love. Just as a child’s naughty moments don’t shatter their relationship with the parents, neither do our sins shatter our relationship with God. A relational Father aims to restore us, not to demolish us. 

Now some traditionalists may think this sounds like a jail-break without a valid card, going straight to 'Go', and collecting £200, no questions asked. One finds different takes on solving this. 

One take is to say that any 'legalistic' framework about sin should be trashed when we think about how a loving Father would treat his child. This Father God would never say "Go to your room!" 

Another take is that a once-for-all atonement guarantees this: that our sins never obstruct this Father-child relationship. Bold we approach the eternal throne! (Curiously, this result is not unlike Word of Faith teachers like E.W. Kenyon who argued that the redeemed have a binding 'legal' right to boldly approach the eternal throne.) 

Your might hear that forgiveness of sins can be declared daily, but without a word of repentance for sins daily. You probably won't hear it suggested that you might say the Lord's Prayer daily. (It has that awkward phrase, "Forgive us our sins...")

We ought to recognise that there are wonderfully pastoral pastors who are classical theists, whose pastoral skills are not unrelational. But the relational theology claim is simply that the pastor is better equipped with the messages of relational theology, so as to help build people up in faith and assurance in a loving God will not reject them. I’m not sure how much you would find a contrary message in other Christian traditions. But advocates of relational theology want to depict God’s love in this fashion as a dominant pastoral message. Repentance is de-emphasised.

Anything new?

Now it must be said that none of this is particularly new. John Wesley could have said a lot of it. Christians have been singing “What a friend we have in Jesus” for nearly 200 years. For just as long, Christians have been singing the sentimental songs of Fanny Crosby, such as "I Am Thine, O Lord (Draw Me Nearer)", and "Safe in the Arms of Jesus." It could be argued that her songs were foundational in leading to this kind of relational Christianity. What relational theology represents is a more intentional approach to structuring our thoughts in all these things.

For example, it seems to provide a framework for making connections between the following, to hold them together as a Scriptural trajectory about a God of relationship and love:

·         God walking in the Garden of Eden

·         “Go forth and multiply”

·         God’s personal name Yahweh

·         Yahweh’s covenant with Israel

·         Stories that tell that God can be pleased or displeased

·         The Psalmist’s refrain that God’s love is steadfast

·         God with us, the incarnation, God sending his only Son to us

·         Jesus saying the more familial “Abba Father”

·         The greatest commandment being about love for God and neighbour

·         The new command to love one another as Jesus loved

·         The instruction to love enemies and neighbours

·         The practice of eating together in the early church

Grouped together like a story, they don't slip through our fingers. They make a path for telling the story of the Bible as God wanting to dwell with us and enjoy his love. Of course, there are many facets to God, and this framework is intentionally limited to one broad theme, the theme appealing to relational theology: love. You may hear advocates of relational theology may frame it that God’s chief desire is that we love God and neighbour as Jesus taught.

 

Red flags?

While relational theology claims benefits in how it addresses sin, there are also red flags in the same area.

Oh, those Pharisees!

Relational theology purports to reject a legal-contractual characterisation of God’s dealings with us, but advocates a relational-covenant view of God. The theological problem with that of course is that a contract is what a covenant is. So what is really being said? Such an argument is suggesting that other theologies are legalistic, and lack the flexibility of relationship. A relational God is not like one of those dreadful Pharasaic lawyer-types, in other words. Accusing other Christians of being Pharisaical is a rhetorical strategy of the movement which I really dislike. It’s using the name of a Jewish group as a bogeyman word, and thereby lies the spectre of anti-Semitism. The Pharisees ought not to be used as the hate figures of relational theology. In the entire New Testament, only Jesus gets to say a critical word about Pharisees, no-one else does. He also has positive things to say about them. And yet some relational theology advocates do not hesitate to so blacken the reputations of their target “legalistic” Christians in this degrading way. A lack of graciousness towards those who disagree with them seems to be a temptation that the movement doesn’t face up to properly, I fear. A good test of relational theology should be how relational you are with people who disagree with you. 

Of course, just because someone advocates relational theology does not entail that they are a nice likeable person. And just because a theologian is nice and likeable doesn’t mean that they advocate relational theology. People are so varied.

It can turn into an unpleasant sense of “those Christians are rigid Pharisees whereas we are moving into Christ-likeness.” This is dangerous. I do feel a need to sound a note of caution about the assertion of relational theology that it develops believers who are the ones more interested in being Christ-like. This may be so in some cases, but not always. The thing is, when someone claims this, you need to check what they include and what they exclude, lest they simply be re-making their Christ in their own image, the risk of a reduced version of the Christ of the Bible. You may want to be alert to notice which bits about Jesus they are comfortable with, and what they tend to leave out. It matters.

Punishment or abuse?

There is also confusion about punishment and abuse, or the problem of equating punishment with abuse. This most famously surfaced in the notorious statement that the penal substitution is a theology of divine child abuse. One of the problems there is this: if penal = abuse, then all punishment is abuse. Any punishment authorised in Scripture is abuse. This critique thus creates more problems than it seeks to solve. Of course, if Jesus didn’t bear what he did, then we would bear it instead, because “the wages of sin is death”. If these wages are not to be seen as abuse, then they mustn’t be seen as punishment at all. They have to be seen as a self-inflicted wound instead. I don’t think that is what Paul was saying. It is perhaps not surprising that relational theology (if you are familiar with it) shies away from the idea of punishment because punishment hurts. People who advocate relational theology are usually caring people who cringe inwardly at the thought of someone being hurt. The trouble is, biblical punishments exist and they don’t give people the right not to be hurt by them.

As I once heard Jackie Pullinger say, when you see what human beings sometimes do to each other, there has to be justice. Saying that justice is abuse won’t do.

There just has to be justice, and that is in peril if we confuse punishment with abuse. People who have done unspeakably terrible things to other people should not expect that justice to be convenient to them. Confusing punishment with abuse does nothing for credibility of a theological movement. And of course if you allow that there ought to be fair punishment, then the equivalent punishment of penal substitution isn’t abuse. If God doesn’t punish, it’s not because punishment is abuse, it’s because he shows mercy.

The wages of your arrow missing?

Similarly, it’s popular in some relational theology to teach that the Greek word for ‘sin’ really means falling short, like an arrow missing its target. (Based on the etymology of the word.) This makes one feel less guilty, which makes one more relationally confident before God, which is what relational theology want to foster. Good intentions. But… remember that “the wages of sin is death”? Well this reinterpretation would mean that “the wages of missing is death”! That sounds thoroughly dystopian! It actually sounds much worse than what it is trying to correct! How did this sloppy thinking ever catch on? The wages of missing are abuse then? Better be careful and not take part in any archery contest where this God sets the rules. It will be like the Hunger Games and not in a good way!

Cheapened gospel?

Along with that is a risk of a cheapened gospel in which, however it is that atonement works, we think we have swerved the kind of spiritual death that Jesus endured thanks to his substitution for us. The trouble there is that Paul is quite specific that we have to die to ourselves spiritually. Relational theology sometimes struggles to deliver messages that are not nice to hear.

So an idea that any punishment God dealt out to any member of humanity is divine abuse of humanity would sound worse than the problem it was intended to fix. Notwithstanding the good intention of being relational, mistakes can be made.

There are other possible red flags.

Order or hierarchy?

There also seems to be a bit of a muddle over order and hierarchy. Relational theologians are often opposed to hierarchy without necessarily addressing that, regardless of hierarchy, Scripture does describe divinely created order. This needs more exploration. The lack of clarity might be a sign of not differentiating order and hierarchy.  

"Jesus is my boyfriend"?

nother potential risk in the movement is manifested in the sort of worship that gets caricatured as “Jesus is my boyfriend” songs. Not only does the Father get neglected in such worship, but also it doesn’t give us anything like the whole Jesus of Scripture, such as neglecting Jesus being our reigning King unless he is “the King of my heart.” It’s as if what matters most is to make our King relatable, rather than the truth that he actually is reigning so that creation will be saved. It’s not likely to tell you that you need to die to yourself. Jesus isn’t our boyfriend, he’s a challenge to our inner selves.

Embarrassing apologetics?

A minor quibble, but there is a risk of looking for relationality beyond common sense. One of the odder apologetics for relational theology is this: physics shows that God made a relational universe. I have to say, there is nothing personable about Newtonian laws of physics. They describe impersonal forces evident in interactions between objects. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, etc. It makes no sense to try to translate this into an apologetic for hearts of love. It just doesn’t follow. There are much better arguments. I hope I’ve made some of them.

Rescue the antidote?

All these risks could be addressed without enormous effort. But perhaps it’s unsurprising that people struggle to articulate what relational theology actually is when such cloth-eared stuff is circulating uncritically. Do people not pause long enough to realise that they have made something which actually sounds worse? Perhaps critical thinking of the movement's ideas is not the done thing in the movement. But there is a risk that there will be no clear theology, just a framework with a few tools that may not be well used.

Is the future of relational theology in peril because of such nonsense? Probably not, but it will be at risk if collectively some of the risks I’ve mentioned coalesce into a destructive blob.

I hope it can be rescued. It tries to be an antidote where people have had negative experiences of church, and that’s probably the motivation for its recent rise. People really have been to churches with little or no emphasis on God’s love, authoritarian or hierarchy-driven churches where unapproachable leaders openly wield power over people, where someone’s appearance has been policed, their clothing openly criticised quite confrontationally, being “kept in your place” in a suffocating structure, never being consulted about things that affect you. It takes more than simply switching between Calvinism and Arminianism or whatever other option, to address this. Relational theology is an earnest and intentional attempt to articulate a church that looks more like Jesus. But as I’ve said, it has its own risks to navigate.

Back of an envelope version of relational theology

Here then, in nine bullets, is a back of an envelope version of relational theology as I have personally encountered it, and as seen by some of its advocates:

·         It criticises classical theism as having a problematic cold distant judgmental God, and it seeks to be an antidote to that. Judgment is dialled down, for example.

·         Scripture is about a God of relationship. So, biblical ideas such as Church being the Bride of Christ are read as examples of relationship, rather than in terms of motifs and symbols. A relational lens for reading.

·         God’s pre-eminent characteristic is love, unconditional and steadfast. Jesus shows us this. God created human beings for a loving relationship with Him and with each other.

·         Our better idea of what God is like will be reflected in our worship – worship tends to have more songs about personal connection with Jesus, with a good and loving God.

·         God has feelings too, and we can be a delight and a blessing to God.

·         Drawing on real-life relationships as a lens to see God's love smooths over the troubled waters of sin. E.g. just as a child’s naughty moments don’t dim their parents’ love, neither do our sins dim God’s love. Just as a child’s naughty moments don’t shatter their relationship with the parents, neither do our sins shatter our ongoing relationship with Father God. Bold we approach the eternal throne. This is a help in pastoral conversations about sin.

·         It also helps pastorally to speak of a God who mourns when we mourn, who notices us and cares. It brings hope and comfort.

·         It’s a stimulus for discipling together with strong relationships as a church.

·         Following these principles makes us each more Christ-like.

 

For some advocates, there may be bullet points about justice for the oppressed, or about God’s relationship with the ecology of the planet.

 

 Further reading:

Thomas Jay Oord: What is Relational Theology?