In the early 16th century, astronomer Nicholas Copernicus developed a radical theory that transformed the modern view of the cosmos.
Through his study and observation, Copernicus came to conclusion that the sun, rather than the earth was the centre of ‘our’ universe. This new idea represented a significant challenge to the Ptolemaic system of geocentric cosmology— which argued the earth was stationary, the hub of the universe, and the point around which all the other planets revolved.
As much as anything, the Copernican revolution exposed that long assumed and widely accepted truths could be successfully challenged. And given that Copernicus’ work emerged during the Protestant Reformation, it proved especially threatening to the medieval custodian of truth –the Roman Catholic Church. But Copernicus did more than challenge the status quo. His popularly accepted notion of centricity/centrality became embedded in the consciousness of modern logic. Indeed, how many times have you heard the expression, ‘….is central to our argument’, or ‘…is the centre of our faith’ etc.
Copernican logic could be used to theoretically structure any belief system. And it should come as no surprise that the logic of centrality/centricity should be used to frame Christian ideas— being embraced by theologians who rarely questioned its suitability. But herein lays the problem. Is the centrality logic really a suitable device for framing theological ideas?
One of the primary shortcomings of centrality logic is exposed when attempting to prioritize related and equally valuable truths.
In Copernican logic there must be ‘one’ central or controlling truth, which prioritises lesser truths as they radiate out in concentric circles of descending gravity. This is never more obvious than attempting to see the value of the doctrines related to God’s saving work through Jesus Christ.
When popularly advanced using Copernican logic, the atoning death of Christ on the Cross becomes the central truth around which the related truths necessarily orbit—the distance of the orbit from the centre implying their weighting. However, a fundamental problem arises in prioritising, or determining, what are greater and lesser truths.
For example: Is the incarnation of Christ a lesser truth than his atoning death? Is the resurrection of greater value than the ascension? What about the obedient life of Christ, does that carry less weight than the events of Pentecost?
You can see the problem. When framed by Copernican logic, equally valuable and interrelated truths are necessarily, and inappropriately, divided and prioritised away from the centre.
But, when you carefully think about Christ’s atoning death, as it relates to surrounding doctrines, the following must be concluded: The atonement has no value without the incarnation, the death of Jesus has no meaning without His obedient life and teaching, the atoning death also has no validity without the resurrection, and the cross of Christ has no meaningful applicability without the Ascension and Pentecost.
In reality, no one truth is greater or lesser, more or less ‘central’ to God’s redemptive work—all equally support and validate the whole.
But, out of curiosity, ‘Why would the death of Christ find its way into the ‘centre’, to the detriment of other equal truths?’ A glancing assessment might conclude that those promoting this idea are simply upholding a virtuous truth, ignorant of conflicting interests. Even so, why is the atonement the default centre of their system? A closer look reveals that this imbalanced prioritisation of the atonement has deep roots in traditional Christian thought.
Beginning with Catholicism and the primacy of the Eucharist, which was then replaced or replicated in Protestantism with the primacy of faith in Jesus’ historical atoning death, then carried on into Evangelicalism with its perennial promotion of the ‘Believe in Jesus, have your sins forgiven, so you can go to heaven when you die gospel’. Structurally, all the way from ancient Catholicism to modern Evangelicalism the central focus on the atoning death has remained unchanged—even though the mode of appropriating it might vary.
In traditional Christianity, the focus has been on having sins atoned, so the soul can be absolved of guilt, escape the judgment of God, and enter eternal bliss at death. Bluntly put, the gospel is represented as eternal fire insurance for human souls! Moreover, if salvation is all about the soul being right with God, so it can be saved from Hell and go to Heaven, then all that really matters is ‘my’ personal justification arising from Christ’s atoning sacrifice.
Consequently, all apparent or ‘less direct’ truths can be prioritised away into outer orbits of lesser gravity. Which, leads to a phenomenon of a partial gospel; a message of salvation that deals only with one aspect of Christ’s saving work, whilst ignoring or diminishing other equally valuable aspects of this vital message of good news.
In practice, this imbalance impoverishes the Christian believer, hinders them understanding the full truth, hinders them from gaining complete deliverance from sin, diminishes their personal ‘peace’ with God, and hinders their effective participation in God’s kingdom work.
So, if the cross is not ‘exclusively’ the centre of gospel, then what is?
Firstly, if we opt to use the method of centrality/centricity to define indispensable doctrines; then we need to make sure the right doctrine/s is/are in the centre—presented ‘rightly’. How do you represent the truth rightly?
Any authentic theologian must be prepared to take an oath, similar to a witness giving a testimony in court…”Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” Firstly, it must be ‘the truth’, secondly it must be the ‘whole truth’ (not parts of it), and finally it must be ‘nothing but the truth’ (not augmented with unnecessary or false ideas).
If these criteria are to be satisfied, then perhaps the ‘centre’ of the gospel could be promoted as having a more comprehensive scope…
The truth at the centre of the gospel is Jesus Christ: His person and works. All that Jesus is and all he did, from the coming of the Spirit at the incarnation to the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost, represents the core of God’s saving work in relation to his Kingdom purposes. That Jesus is central to the saving work of God is undeniably true, that every aspect of his person and work is necessary for complete salvation represents the whole truth, and that nothing extra is to be added (like human works or traditions) ensures that what is essentially true remains primary to the message.
However, even with placing such a comprehensive truth in the centre, you invariably encounter the same problem as before. What about other significant doctrines of equal value, such as ‘union with Christ’? It’s a never-ending problem!
Perhaps the logic of centrality/centricity is better suited to other domains like astronomy, for it does not readily serve the purpose of understanding God and his purposes very well at all.
So, why have this discussion?
Firstly, we have learned that it is critically important to know what we believe and understand the framework in which those beliefs are presented. Why? If we structure our beliefs on a flawed logical model, it will invariably lead to misunderstanding at best, and significant error at worst.
Secondly, some logical models are less than ideal when applied to understanding God and his works and are better off not used. Some, however, are better. For example, consider the more organic nature of Jesus’ parables or Paul’s metaphors–they are effective at transmitting truth without distorting it.
Thirdly, tradition can be and should be challenged. Just because someone like Augustine, Calvin, Barth, or some prominent theologian understood something in a certain way, does not make them automatically or absolutely right–their ideas are just human ideas.
Finally, just as Copernicus unearthed the legitimate flaws of Ptolemaic cosmology, clarifying the true nature of our cosmos; so contemporary theologians should feel confident to approach the text of scripture in a fresh way. They should be willing to ignore the dogmatic assertions of tradition and seek to recapture the meaning of the original Christian message as it was presented in its original context; uncontaminated by the logical/social/political/religious polemical agendas of the past, which invariably slanted the interpretation of the original text.
Spirit & Truth 