Theology and Technology, Volume 2: Essays in Christian Exegesis and Historical Theology

By Wipf and Stock

Originally published nearly forty years ago as a spiritual successor to Carl Mitcham and Robert Mackey's Philosophy and Technology, the essays collected in the two volumes of Theology and Technology span an array of theological attitudes and perspectives providing sufficient material for careful reflection and engagement. The first volume offers five general attitudes toward technology based off of H. Richard Niebuhr's five ideal types in Christ and Culture. The second volume includes biblical, historical, and modern theological engagements with the place of technology in the Christian life. This ecumenical collection ranges from authors who enthusiastically support technological development to those cynical of technique and engages the Christian tradition from the church fathers to recent theologians like Bernard Lonergan and Jacques Ellul. Taken together, these essays, some reproductions of earlier work and others original for this project, provide any student of theology a fitting entree into considering the place of technology in the realm of the sacred.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wipf and Stock
• Release date: Jul 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781666790719

Book preview

Preface (1984)

Carl Mitcham

Jim Grote

This volume continues an intellectual assessment of technology that began with Carl Mitcham and Robert Mackey’s Philosophy of Technology: Readings in the Philosophical Problems of Technology (New York: Free Press, 1972) and has been extended into a number of bibliographies and various general studies. More immediately, it is the outgrowth of a symposium on Philosophy, Technology and Theology organized by Mitcham and Grote for the Society of Philosophy and Technology, and held in conjunction with the American Catholic Philosophical Association annual meeting in Toronto, April 20–22, 1979. Initial versions of the papers by Durbin, Fortin, Sun, Schuurman, and Sontag were prepared for this symposium—although Sontag’s was not actually delivered there. The paper by George Blair was contributed to a subsequent discussion of the thought of André Malet held under the auspices of the East Central Division of the ACPA in November, 1980, at the Josephinum in Columbus, Ohio. It was while editing these papers for publication in Research in Philosophy and Technology that Grote first made the suggestion—about which he has since expressed some misgivings, given the work it has caused him—that they be used as the nucleus for the present book.

Because of its heritage, this collection is somewhat different in character than its philosophical predecessor, which in fact included a section of Religious Critiques. The present volume assumes the existence of that more classical set of texts. It seeks, with judicious selection from a literature of otherwise limited access, complemented by original work, to make a specific argument which is stated at some length in the first essays of each volume. Briefly put, this is that the central question, even in the philosophy of technology, is ultimately theological in character. Whereas the original anthology had tolerantly included religious issues within the scope of technology as a philosophical problem, the present collection wishes to turn the tables and present philosophical issues as the outgrowth of theological understandings. But here it is perhaps appropriate to indicate something of the personal circumstances behind such an idea.

In the Preface to Philosophy and Technology, Mitcham and Mackey alluded to a personal philosophical commitment at the basis of their collection which, in religious form, is at the foundation of the present collection as well. The original philosophical commitment was that which in fact makes philosophy possible—that is to the primacy of theory over practice. In truth, because of its character, it is inaccurate to describe it as a commitment; it is a conviction born of reason, but held tenuously in the face of a world manifestly oriented in other directions. Religiously, this becomes a conviction of the primacy of the contemplative life over the active apostolate. In 1967, when the first book was being conceived, Mitcham was neither Catholic nor Christian, and he and Grote were unacquainted. In the early 1970s, Grote, through his involvement with the Catholic Worker movement, developed his own appreciation of the importance of the contemplative dimension of experience. The two became friends through providence as members for a time of a small experimental community near the Abbey of Gethsemani which sought to adapt the Western contemplative monastic tradition to family life. This work is thus part of an on-going pilgrimage to integrate the intellectual and spiritual dimensions of our lives. The ghost of Thomas Merton hovers over, without necessarily approving of, such efforts.

Essay 1

Aspects of Christian Exegesis

Hermeneutics, the Theological Virtues, and Technology

Carl Mitcham and Jim Grote

The previous introduction focused on the essays of Part I and explored five problematic theological attitudes toward technology. It concludes by defending, without developing, a radical theological questioning of technology. The present introduction concentrates on the essays of Part II and considers issues relevant to an exegesis of a Christian tradition which could speak to the technological world. In accord with the conclusion of the first introduction, it develops arguments that encourage the sustained questioning of various theological justifications for technology, especially those associated with the three theological virtues. The aim is to shift the burden of argument from theological critics to its theological proponents.

The relation between a structural analysis of perennial alternative theologies of technology and an exegetical turn to the Christian tradition in search of theological guidance in the midst of the contemporary crises of technology can be further described as follows. An ahistorical structuralism tends to view the past from the perspective of the present, or to find there simply examples of its fundamental alternatives. The exegetical turn to the Christian tradition on the basis of a critical questioning of the present seeks to view the present from perspectives of the past—without denying that different aspects of that past will inevitably come to light, given the new problems it is asked to address by the present. At critical or conversion points in the spiritual lives of both individuals and the church, people are called upon to review their inheritance in the light of transformational experiences, and to reexamine their present lives in terms of past commitments. This crisis-engendered re-understanding of the past and present also tends to be cumulative; it encourages the reconsideration of previous reconsiderations. Tradition is precisely this on-going dialectical story of understanding seeking understanding.

The dialectic at issue may be readily illustrated by considering a couple of hypothetical situations. Because of her romantic attraction for a man of whom her parents disapprove, a daughter breaks a relationship with her family. Ten years later a divorce leads to reconsideration, of both her marriage and her earlier break with her parents—and perhaps of other friendships, church ties, etc. Or again: Impressed by the achievements of modern technology, an Amish boy rejects his religious heritage in order to become a successful engineer. Twenty years later the problems of environmental pollution and nuclear arms invite him to reconsider his professional responsibilities as well as his earlier turning away from Amish religious teachings. In each case a truth about the past is revealed through a perspective created by the present, and the present is thrown into new relief by a reappropriated past.

Similar dramas have been played out in the life of the church. The apostolic age re-examined Jewish Scriptures in response to the preaching, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. Then the monastic imperative interpreted New as well as Old Testaments in psychological and mystical terms, as part of an ascetic reaction to the conversion of Constantine and the waning vocation to public martyrdom. St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas provided a method for the mutual interpretation of Christian revelation and Greek philosophy, relying on insights from Scripture, apostolic and monastic experience. Martin Luther and John Calvin inaugurated a prophetic critique of the limits of institutional religion allied with a commitment to the general sacredness of secular engagements - bringing about a breach in the tradition, precisely because they rejected the Christian character of the self-understanding of the late Middle Ages. And faced with the technological transformation of the modern world, theology naturally tries to mine its past, from biblical to Reformation times, for insights to guide its encounter with an uncertain present and precarious future.

Part II of this volume collects a series of essays which contribute to just such an exegetical task. From the vantage point of the modern experience of technology they re-examine different aspects of the Christian tradition and thus renew that tradition in the face of the present. In the first set of essays in exegesis, Jacques Ellul and Charles Mabee concentrate on the Bible, with Ellul’s two essays emphasizing the Old Testament, Mabee’s essay the New. Partly because of their own experience, both are able to discern in the Bible previously overlooked criticisms of technology. Next P. Hans Sun, taking his bearings by that initial transformation of Christian culture which gave birth to the monastic tradition, discovers a multi-layered antithesis between theologia as prayer and technologia as systematic control of the external world. Although Sun illustrates the point more explicitly than Ellul or Mabee, in each of the first four essays a central theological issue is the direct encounter between man and God, that is faith, and what faith implies for technology.

In a second set of essays, five scholars are influenced primarily by the classic Christian theologians. Here the central theological issue tends to be this-world relationships, social justice, and charity. Ernest Fortin studies St. Augustine, Paul T. Durbin goes into St. Thomas Aquinas, and Douglas John Hall turns to Martin Luther, each looking for practical guidance for the Christian use of technology. Fortin and Hall find more along this line than Durbin, who argues the weakness of natural law theory at least as currently articulated by the Catholic Church. Willis Dulap and George Grant provide more general reflections nevertheless grounded in a fundamental sympathy with the thought of major theologians of the Western Christian tradition, especially in regard to natural law theory. Yet Dulap, by calling attention to certain fundamental ambiguities and historical transformations, and Grant, by arguing the reality of a certain loss, may both be read as providing ironic confirmation of Durbin.

Finally, a third set of essays focuses on history, which functions as the modern replacement for the classical idea of nature. Thomas Berry reads the history of technology as part of the more comprehensive and religious story of creation. George W. Shields and Frederick Sontag call such a reading into serious question, although from quite different perspectives. For Shields, what is created by technology is as much evil as good. For Sontag, the whole question of what it means for God to create and/or enter into history is highly problematic. The crucial theological question becomes one of hope—an issue raised previously by Hall as well. With regard to history, and especially technological history, for what does Christianity teach that it is appropriate to hope?

Such an overview points toward the main issues of a Christian exegesis in confrontation with technology. The first or methodological issue concerns principles of hermeneutics; the second or substantive issue can be ordered, as already hinted, around questions relating to the three theological virtues. What follows are simply notes relevant to both discussions, as these must be addressed in any comprehensive exegetical program.

Hermeneutics and Technology

The hermeneutical question can itself be phrased in methodological or historical form. In what sense do we take the techniques of scientific exegesis as normative for the interpretation of sacred texts and doctrines? In what sense is the long-standing and well-documented association between technology and Christian culture normative for Christian experience?

Taking the historical question first: Despite evidence marshalled,¹ Lynn White Jr. and other historians arguing for some identification between technology and Christianity as early as the ninth century, it has not been possible to demonstrate any inner connection except ex post facto. No contemporary of that period or for some time thereafter has been shown to have himself thought that Christianity entailed technology. The evidence is wholly compatible with the idea that technology was stimulated by quite non-religious factors, and that the association between Christianity and technology was a subsequent ideological rationalization developed to benefit either Christianity or technology or both. Indeed, this second hypothesis may even be supported by White’s claim that the distinctly European commitment to technology can be traced back to between AD 400 and 600, prior to the rise of a comprehensive Christian culture.

As for the methodological question, an exegetical approach to the Christian tradition can be undertaken from within more than one hermeneutical framework. The typically modern approach is to speak piously of treasure being carried in earthen vessels (cf. 2 Corinthians 4:7), and then to proceed to reconcile revelation and tradition with modern science-technology by reducing the supernatural treasure to some absolute minimum while enlarging the human vessel to an overwhelming maximum. As Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679) and Benedict Spinoza (1632–1677) first argued with deadly success, the Bible and religious tradition can be studied with the same methods as any other aspect of culture.

According to Leo Strauss, in one of the most over-looked studies of that early modern transformation in the Western approach to the Bible, the establishment of the principles of modern biblical criticism went hand in hand with the development of modern technology. The reliance on man’s achievement, on labor, on culture and progress, opposes the belief in the original perfection of man, and—thought through to its final consequences—opposes any interest in, or belief in, revelation.² If this is true, then doubts about the sufficiency of human technological progress may well raise corresponding doubts about modern biblical hermeneutics, and by implication the modern approach to the religious tradition as a whole. Mutatis mutandis the understanding of the Bible and its religious traditions as they understood themselves may depend on a questioning of the modern technological project.

As pointed out and defended on a different basis by the previous introductory essay, the predominant position of the exegetical studies in this volume is precisely one of justifiable skepticism toward the technological project. Ernest Fortin, in Augustine, the Arts, and Modern Progress, asserts the need for a total critique of modern consciousness and a re-examination of the basic and long forgotten assumptions by means of which from its inception the new [technological] science sought to justify itself. Growing out of such a skepticism there develops a corresponding willingness to reconsider the wisdom of the past in ways which has led, in the case of Ellul, to what is sometimes castigated as a naive hermeneutic literalism. Ellul, following Calvin, argues that revelation just be viewed as a consistent, continuous whole, and that only Scripture should be used to interpret Scripture because Only God speaks well about God.³ If God is God then the problems and inconsistencies raised by Spinoza to prove the human or even primitive character of the Bible could well be miracles. Such is not, of course, the prevailing attitude of contemporary theology, even when it adopts a somewhat critical stance toward modernity. Almost always contemporary theology is more critical still toward premodern thought and action.

David Tracy, for instance, in Blessed Rage for Order (1975), has written a widely acclaimed protreptic for what he terms a post-modern, revisionist theology. Present in his argument are strong doses of criticism for various aspects of the modern project. He might well admit that in light of the threats of over-population, nuclear annihilation, and environmental deterioration, man’s technological self-salvation has not turned out to be the unalloyed success that was originally envisioned.⁴ At the very least, the human need for God as a moral ideal has not been superseded, as was predicted by the early modern prophets of progress; nor has the idea of God as an explanatory principle been rendered obsolete by the discoveries of modern science. While man’s ability to manipulate the forces of nature has increased, practical problems in the exercise of such powers have proliferated; and although science has become immensely sophisticated in both the macro and micro dimensions, it is no longer seen as an enterprise capable of definitive closure with nature. In the end the universe remains ultimately mysterious.

Nevertheless, while criticizing the naive optimism of liberal theology and the oppressive results of Enlightenment disenchantment,⁵ Tracy remains committed to continuing the critical task of the classical liberals and modernists in a genuinely post-liberal situation.⁶ His faith in the God of Jesus Christ is complemented by a faith in the modern experiment⁷ and a full affirmation of the ultimate significance of our lives in this world.⁸ What Tracy understands as post-modern authenticity thus calls not just for a basic revision in traditional modernity, but also for a basic revision of traditional Christianity.⁹ And the latter seems to take precedence over the former.

According to Tracy, contemporary Christian theology entails Philosophical reflection upon the meanings present in common human experience and the meanings present in the Christian tradition.¹⁰ He candidly admits that if his revisionist theology is found wanting, it will be because he has erred in understanding our common experience or the Christian tradition.¹¹ An implicit argument of many of the exegetical studies in the present volume is that he has indeed done the former, and as a result also the latter. His failure to deal explicitly with the issue of technology or even to mention the work of Ellul, in a book studded with footnotes to every conceivable theologian and many sociologists, certainly raises questions about his approach to our common experience in the present age. Certainly it seems reasonable to ask whether his revisionist theology offers a truly comprehensive critique of the modern project. Why must biblical faith be harmonized with the faith of secularity? How can faith offer a criterion by which to judge the world if there does not remain a tension between faith and the world?

As Charles Mabee points out in Biblical Hermeneutics and the Critique of Technology, within the Bible we encounter a conflict between revelation and its cultural settings. The Bible is both product and critic of its historical situation. If it did not transcend its own historicity in some way, how could the Bible serve as a guide, not just to contemporary life, but even life in its own time? According to Mabee, the modern biblical critics even more than the original biblical authors must submit to demythologization. The Bible challenges not only the ancient myths of Baal, but the modern myths of scientific objectivity and technological superiority as well. If some products of modern scientific technology stand under biblical judgment (artificial contraception for the conservatives, nuclear weapons for the liberals), then why not its procedures and methods also?

The hermeneutic argument, summarily stated, is that insofar as modern technology must be associated with a methodological questioning of revelation and the supernatural character of the Christian tradition, the rediscovery of revelation in and through this religious heritage can only proceed by a methodological questioning of technology, and that such questioning is warranted by the biblical tradition itself. But is this realistically possible? No doubt the attempt is fraught with both conceptual and existential difficulties of the first order. Not to mention other considerations, it surely appears to most citizens of our time as both unnecessary and irrational.

This apparent irrationality reflects what Ellul refers to as the wager of modern technology that it can systematically assimilate everything, from economics and politics in developed and underdeveloped countries alike to human nature and nature itself. It is Ellul’s conclusion that before the open maw of a history which has become essentially technological, everything is subject to being devoured—everything, that is, except God. If there is not this transcendent, Technique can absorb everything or destroy everything, lay all to waste, empty mankind of humanity, and annihilate the natural world. But, he immediately adds, I am not brought to accept the God of Jesus Christ because a transcendent as a dialectical factor in relation to the assimilating power of Technique. But having accepted the God of Jesus Christ, I affirm that he is our only recourse in the face of Technique.¹²

Nevertheless, it may turn out that a determinedly critical exegesis directed toward its own foundational heritage could open within the technological milieu a clearing within which one would discover or rediscover God. Such a discovery might then nourish and reinforce the initial effort. The effort could take on a self-confirming character which would defend it against at least some existential attacks and encourage the development of an ever more thoroughgoing critical attitude toward technology. But this prospect can itself be no more than a humble wager of the exegetical task. To gauge the true depth of this exegetical project one must turn to substantive issues, and attempt to disjoin the theological virtues from any ideological use to justify modern technology.

Faith: Technology and the Doctrine of Creation

The first sentence of the Bible and the first sentence of the Nicene Creed both profess God to be creator of heaven and earth. Traditionally this creation has been taken to be ex nihilo, out of nothing. The Bible thus begins with a miracle, indeed the greatest possible miracle. The first object of faith in the creed is likewise a miracle. Revelation and faith are miracles on two levels. They are themselves a miracle, which reveal a miracle.

By contrast, philosophy as discovered by the Greeks affirms the principle of causation and the belief that nothing can come out of nothing.¹³ For the Greeks the world is well ordered—its very name, kosmos, means order—and eternal. Even Aquinas admits that if the world has a beginning this is not something that can be proved rationally, like the immortality of the soul, but must be accepted on faith.

Now on the surface nothing could be more obvious than that the principle of causation and order would be much more compatible with the development of technology than the doctrine of creation ex nihilo and the possibility of miracles. What is technology if not the employment of causes to manipulate the world order and forswear the miraculous. In the beginning, then, Christian theology appears antithetical to technology, which was in fact the view of many early modern scientists and Enlightenment philosophers.

According to a widely influential argument, however, the surface is eminently misleading. The contrary interpretation of the implications of Greek cosmology versus the Judeo-Christian doctrine of creation can be stated as follows. If the world is eternal then it takes on a divine-like quality which resists empirical analysis or manipulation, whereas if the world is created it already has the character of an artifact and is subject to experimental manipulation. Moreover, by encouraging men to expect and seek the miraculous, religion arouses a desire which can be truly satisfied only by the productions of