For 2,000 years the Christian churches have developed, disagreed with each other, and divided into separate and often hostile factions. This book, written by a distinguished Church historian, explores the theological lessons to be learnt from this difficult history. The author identifies a recurring historic tendency to identify the Christian life with one or another specific means to holiness, such as ascetic discipline, martyrdom, or the cult of the Eucharist. He examines how historians of Christianity gradually came to terms with the idea that the Church could change, and even lapse into serious error. He also shows how historical perspective has played a key role in many of the most important theologies of the past 100 years. The book concludes that a living Christianity is never absolutely timeless, and that we can only ever perceive a facet of its total revelation, conditioned as we are by our own historical and cultural context.
Euan Cameron’s Interpreting Christian History: The Challenge of the Churches’ Past is an exercise in theological history—not to be confused with historical theology. Cameron’s goal is to craft a coherent theory of the relationship between Christianity and history that still takes seriously the truth or uniqueness of Christianity. On the one hand he wants to raise awareness about the extent to which the Church in all times and places is historically conditioned. On the other hand he wants to avoid the extremes of postmodern relativism and nihilism. The result is something of a paradox: he concludes that there is some kind of unique core “essence” of Christianity that has endured throughout the ages, but that as limited human beings we are unable to discover what it is. The effort is monumental, and I think Cameron is right that “essentialism” is the almost inevitable conclusion to which historical awareness drives the committed Christian.
Cameron’s first chapter is a historical survey designed to demonstrate that Christianity has changed fairly dramatically over the centuries. One regrettable omission here is a more elaborate defense of his view that “the New Testament writings are just as diverse, just as full of controversy, and just as specific to their cultural context as any later documents from the Christian heritage” (54; cf. also 209-10). True, he does explain that Christianity was a “Jewish heresy” that “had to negotiate its identity with intellectuals from a wide variety of backgrounds and traditions” (12). But only one example—the use of the word Logos in John 1—is provided. While I agree with Cameron that the New Testament is historically conditioned, I think that he would have done well to argue this point a little more explicitly and emphatically. Perhaps he is assuming that his audience generally will not include committed Evangelicals. In any case, Cameron’s survey of Christian history after the New Testament is excellent and makes his point quite well: in every time and place, Christianity has taken on a variety of different theological, institutional, and cultural forms. This process of development is not necessarily bad (13), and in fact Cameron treats sympathetically some developments that more conservative believers today might find highly objectionable. For example, we should not engage in “facile moralizing” about the institutionalization of the Church (18). The common early Medieval conception of Christianity as a powerful form of magic passes without comment (23), and the reader is told that in no way is it accurate to say that scholastic theology “sold out” to Aristotle (26). While Cameron does have a fairly negative view of creeds and canons that define Christian identity in opposition to minority groups (54,6), this is largely because such an approach is based fundamentally upon the “positivist” conception of the Church (as a “true” institution guarding “timeless” doctrine) that Cameron intends to confute in this chapter (53). Instead, Cameron encourages us to take a “historical view” in which each generation adds a new cultural layer to the Christian gospel (55).
In the next chapter Cameron provides several examples of cases in which “means to an end” get so over-emphasized that they ends in themselves. Christianity is thereby thrown “off-balance”. Although Cameron insists that he is pointing to imbalances only in a relative sense, and is not implying that there is a “centered, ‘balanced’ perspective,” the point of the chapter appears to be that that there are things that can properly be termed distortions. Distortions in fact are “an inescapable part of the Church’s historical predicament” (59). So while he ultimately might not affirm that a balanced perspective is attainable, Cameron does seem to be implying that imbalances exist in more than just a relative sense. After an ample number of examples—many of them quite funny—Cameron attempts to suggest a way in which the current Church might be imbalanced. This is complicated by the fact that such things are difficult to see without the benefit of hindsight, but the effort also appears to be something of a moral mandate in Cameron’s system. The great imbalance of the twenty-first century churches, he suggests, may be an unprecedented preoccupation with “defining, charting, sustaining, and (where possible) increasing their lay membership” (96). This can lead in turn to a sort of “commodification of religion” (100). Ultimately, Cameron says, the Church may not be able to escape its oscillations between extremes. But hopefully historical awareness can help mitigate them (102).
The contribution of the third chapter to Cameron’s thesis is really quite minor. It is a survey of Christian historiography, designed to demonstrate that the Church has not always conceived of its history in the same way. In other words, the view that Christianity changes over time is not unprecedented. While it has been conceived as a static entity over the course of much of its existence, awareness of its dynamism has grown gradually over the centuries (103-4). Cameron also cites several Church historians—Jocelin of Brakelond, for example—who were quite frank about the Church’s compromises with its political, cultural, and material contexts (113-7).
The fourth chapter and the conclusion are the real meat of the book. Here Cameron explores the many different ways that theologians have attempted to answer “the historical question” (163-4), pointing out the strengths and weaknesses of each. The theologians covered are mostly liberals, amongst whom Ernst Troeltsch seems especially to catch Cameron’s fancy. Karl Barth does make an appearance, but is mostly discussed to the extent that he gives away the farm. Barth’s contention that revelation is wholly “other” is mentioned, but mostly just as a foil for Niebuhr and Pannenberg. A few Catholic historians are reviewed (here the omission of John Henry Newman’s theory of development is regrettable), but only the ostracized Hans Küng is really taken seriously. Although Cameron could have done better at including conservative perspectives, his final analysis remains thoroughly compelling. Informed Christians have only two options: relativism and essentialism (226-7). Committed Christians must opt for essentialism (230). In short, Christianity has an enduring essence, but we are incapable of isolating it or of viewing it without a cultural lens.
But what are the implications of this “essentialist” view? Insofar as Cameron explores them, he seems uncertain. Surely it must inoculate us against dogmatism (239). Might Christianity’s essence lie in a sort of sum of all perspectives? Cameron thinks not, since it would then have to encompass contradictory propositions and would still have basically relativist implications (236). But if we can’t identify Christianity’s essence, should we even try? No, Cameron concludes. Stripping Christianity down to a few bare propositions robs it of the power and mystery that make it a compelling, living faith (231). But if Christianity does have an essence, this implies that there are ways in which the gospel can be distorted or perverted (236). So Cameron thinks we should try at an “individual” level to distinguish distortions from adaptations and to eliminate the former (238-9). It might be worth adding, here, that given Hans-Georg Gadamer’s argument in Truth and Method that dialogue can bring us closer to an approximation of truth, “individual” might be the wrong word. Probably what Cameron means by “individual” is non-institutional; we should not create creeds and inquisitions for the proscription of heretics.
This book contains excellent analysis of the historical perspectives on the Christian Church throughout the ages. I like this book for several reasons. Main ideas and thinkers get brief introductions, thus the book is relatively digestible for those who - like me - are not quite familiar with the topic. Contrasting "confessions" or interpretations of the faith are concisely formulated with a degree of (educated) neutrality. The arguments are solid and balanced, with careful anticipation of possible counter-arguments. Lastly, the academic tone blends smoothly with the strong convictions and faith of the author.
Interesting introduction to the problem of "The Church" and it's History from a christian perspective. What to do with visible church and its relationship to theology.