I love discussion. It’s like Fuze white tea; I can’t get enough. (Well, I do have my limits.) I love to learn and be sharpened and work out my thoughts. Except...when it’s not an honest debate. Then it becomes a different sort of challenge. An effective debate to me isn't necessarily one which must be won, but one that is kind, even if impassioned; one that’s respectful and charitable. (Not that I always argue in this way, God forgive me.)
Many discussions obviously are not of this type, even in the Christian blogosphere. Some become hopelessly arcane...the debaters themselves abscond by referring and deferring to the writings of various authoritative figures in church history, which is fine, but not always helpful. Obviously, those figures themselves offer mere interpretation of Scripture. I understand if someone says, “Well, so-and-so has explained the Scripture in the way that seems to me to best fit the Scripture, and does so far better than I could.” I understand that the person still accepts Scripture itself as more authoritative than whatever historical interpreter is being referred to, and recognizes his own shortcomings in explication or articulation.
However, it requires a heck of a lot of reading to get up to speed on all of these interpreters, and no one, even the greatest of scholars with nothing else in the world to do, can read them all. So how is a person such as me, with a family to raise and a household to tend (among other things), come to know what Scripture really says without either accepting what someone else says, just because they possess some authority and what they say seems to be true, or deciding for myself?
By deciding for myself I mean forming my theology mostly upon my own reading of Scripture. This does not by any means exclude the input of various preachers and authors, or other study helps, but admittedly I haven’t read (nor studied) any of these very thoroughly.
Some may say that I have no authority to interpret the Bible for myself, given what I just said. In a way they are right. But then I must ask, why not? Does a person really need a degree in theology in order to have sufficient understanding of the things of God? Must s/he study Greek and Hebrew? I certainly defer to those with greater understanding of Biblical languages than I have (which would be most everybody) or greater scholarship. But have you noticed that even the experts, the scholars, the “authorities” disagree on myriads of points?
So again, it becomes a matter of choosing whom you will believe. Or completely believing none of them, recognizing that human authority has its limits.
What it often seems to come down to is argument over how to define terms. This may occur both in the sense of individual words and in the sense of concepts. There are probably nearly as many different views of what substitutionary atonement is, for example, as there are people who hold the view. The truth is that there are several passages which speak to the issue, yet in different ways, different contexts, from different angles, etc. So why must we distill these into some common understanding that doesn’t exist?
Debate also often seems to descend into presumption about what others mean by their terms (seeming to assume an absolute definition, or least some sort of sanctified one), and arguing against this assumption, rather than promoting an effort to make sure all parties understand what each other may mean by the terms they use. Or into any number of logical fallacies such as ad hominem or red herring.
The problem is that few will likely be edified or illuminated by such discourse. Which is self-evident, though not often discussed, it seems. Only those who already agree with a particular side may gain better understanding or reinforcement of what they believe, yet even this is suspect if the “information” is not offered in charity. Such debates, then, end up being rallies for one side or the other, not really occasions of learning except for perhaps gaining experience in dealing with certain interpersonal dynamics.
Such debates do not truly develop ideas. They are merely fleshly battles, and this is too bad for all of us.
