Rather than being rooted in the past, or rooted in truth, radical theology is overwhelmed by the present, and by what is currently acceptable. Put another way, the approach of the radical to religious questions is essentially tactical; he trims to what is currently in vogue. Such thinking lacks a fulcrum, a point of leverage, in terms of which present thought and feeling can be assessed and reformed. Without this, attractive though the radical’s concern for relevance is, he is constantly in danger of being submerged by the ‘spirit of the age’, and of failing to distinguish between a true insight and a gimmick.

The word ‘radical’ means, literally, ‘of the roots’. Radical changes are changes that go to the root of things, and radical solutions are not merely ‘cosmetic’ but are concerned with the foundations. Recently, and on certain questions, ‘radical’ has come to have a generally favourable flavour. A radical is taken to be uncluttered in his thinking, someone who is honest and who stands for no nonsense. It is in this favourable sense that the word is applied to Christian theology. ‘Radical theology’ is taken to be theology that cuts through the undergrowth of religious cant and double-think and which re-states the ‘essence of religion’ in up-to­-date, modern, relevant ways.

It is true that the changes proposed to historic Christianity in such theologising are drastic, but it is doubtful whether they are fit to be called radical (They are certainly not modern, unless the steam-engine is modern. Attempts to re-discover and re-state the essence of the Christian religion have been going on at least since the time of Watt and Stephenson). Such radical thinking is, in fact, rootless. The only tests of truth that are recognised are the values and ideals of the contemporary consciousness. Rather than being rooted in the past, or rooted in truth, radical theology is overwhelmed by the present, and by what is currently acceptable. Put another way, the approach of the radical to religious questions is essentially tactical; he trims to what is currently in vogue (This is not meant to be abusive radicals themselves admit as much). Such thinking lacks a fulcrum, a point of leverage, in terms of which present thought and feeling can be assessed and reformed. Without this, attractive though the radical’s concern for relevance is, he is constantly in danger of being submerged by the ‘spirit of the age’, and of failing to distinguish between a true insight and a gimmick. Without a fulcrum, sustained radical thinking of any kind becomes an impossibility.

I

Radical Christian theology, we must insist, must be radical biblical theology. The Puritans, who saw this, are entitled to be called radical Christian theologians. In exegesis, doctrinal construction, pastoral theology and evangelism, their intention was to get back to Christian roots, not by imagining themselves to be back in the early days of the Church, but by seeking to discern the mind of God in Scripture. Though, of course, they differed greatly as individuals (Bates was not Oliver Heywood, and Charnock was not John Howe) they were, almost to a man, eager, vigorous, restless, learned, Bible students. Their immense literary output is only the tip of the iceberg. Beneath it was a mass of continuous research and reflection. All their powers and resources were focused on the job of getting clear in their minds (and in the minds of their people) the Bible teaching on whatever subject was engaging them, and of applying it in the face of the particular ‘life-style’ of their day.

If called on to choose between the rootless ‘radicalism’ of today and the biblical radicalism of the Puritans there is no doubt which way the Church ought to move. Yet, in sharp contrast to the Puritans, life in most ‘conservative’ churches is at present characterised by inertia. There appears to be no thought that commitment to biblical authority (the ‘Puritan principle’) has radicalconsequences. Conservatism with respect to the authority of Scripture appears to mean conservatism in everything else. Why is this? Is it a sort of mental shell-shock, numbness because of the various pressures under which the Church lives? Or complacency? Or a fear of getting out of line? Or is all available energy being sapped by activity of the wrong kind? Or is it that, for all the talk, there is no real commitment to biblical authority because of a fear of where it might lead? To the Puritans, commitment to what is today regarded as a ‘conservative’ view of Scripture provided a mandate for facing issues that had long since been shelved or forgotten. That is, issues with respect to the text of Scripture itself. To those who follow them the slogan ‘Reformed’ often seems to serve to stifle legitimate lines of enquiry, matters that careful attention to the text of Scripture inevitably raises. And this at a time when the Church is faced with enormous problems, and an appalling apathy.

Faced with such problems, and such apathy, what ought to stimulate a minister, or anyone who has teaching responsibilities in the churches? At various times different factors seem to have provided the stimulus — ­the rediscovery of the text of Scripture, missionary expansion, a ‘great awakening’, an obvious need to defend the Christian faith, denominational loyalty. But today the Church faces missionary decline, unconcern over questions of theological truth, the break-up of the old denominations, and an almost total disregard for preaching. Where, in these circumstances, is the stimulus for the ministry to come from? What is to keep a minister going on, year in, year out, as he addresses the same few scores of people? And what is to keep them listening? Ultimately, surely, the ministry can only derive strength and vigour from being stimulated by the text of Scripture, and making available to others, in a forceful, practical way, the fruits of that stimulation. Today, as at no time since the Reformation (and perhaps since the early Church) a minister is cast back on his relationship to the text of the Bible. Social prestige, denominational position or minor eccentricity are no longer sufficient to give the minister a hearing. His credibility, and that of his office, must rest on his ability, as Paul put it, to manifest the truth to every man’s conscience in the sight of God (2 Cor. 4:2). Once this is recognised, a man ought to leave no stone unturned in an effort to get at biblical truth, and to be prompted to fruitful lines of thinking. If a Christian minister cannot ‘open up’ Scripture in an informative and challenging way, why should anyone, in our day, bother to listen to him?

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