Why Does Good Theology Matter?

In my last semester of undergrad, I was in a class with several other seniors. Come spring, we were talking about our plans after graduation. One classmate had a corporate job lined up. Another was getting married and moving across the country. A third was going to grad school.

I, too, was headed to grad school. I was set to move to Wilmore, Kentucky, to begin a Master of Divinity program at Asbury Theological Seminary.

“Ugh,” my fellow grad-school-bound classmate said. “My master’s is going to be sooo long. It’s 45 credit hours. I’m going to be in school forever.”

“Wow,” I said, “that is long,” not having the heart to tell her that my Master’s of Divinity was 96 credit hours, one of the longest Master’s degrees in the country.

I thought I would be in school for 4 more years. Little did I know that God would send me on the scenic route, taking a couple years off to work a job that prepared me for pastoral ministry as much as my seminary education did, while also adding a Certificate in Leadership Development.

About halfway through those 6 years of theological education, I thought, “Why am I doing all of this? Why spend so much time in seminary?” I have to admit that I was more than a little jealous of my non-Methodist acquaintances who were pastoring without any more than an undergraduate degree, reaping the rewards of pastoral ministry (including a paycheck) while I was sitting in a study room at midnight writing dense theological papers with a barely-understandable commentary as my only companion into the night.

After many of those long, lonely nights, I came to a conclusion of why I was doing all of this, why I was spending so much time in seminary. The conclusion I came to was simple, but profound:

Because theology matters.

More than that, good theology matters.

Because good theology matters, I dedicated 6 years of my life—and frankly, the rest of my life—to understanding, articulating, and living out good theology.

But proclaiming that theology matters begs the question: “Why does theology matter?”

To get to that, let’s first talk about theology.

Theology comes from the Greek word theologia, a combination of theos (“god”) and logia (“utterances, sayings, oracles”).

In other words, theology is “God-talk.”

The meaning of theology in our vernacular has come to mean the “study of God.” We think that theology is something that only pastors, seminary professors, and Bible-nerds do. Certainly, you might say, I—a stay-at-home mom, accountant, or retiree—don’t do theology.

Actually, you probably do. Any time we talk about God, we’re participating in theology, God-talk.

But not all talk about God is “good” theology. Sometimes the ways we talk about God or the world or ourselves don’t align with what is real and true about God, the world, or ourselves. It’s theology, but not good theology.

So why does it matter whether we have “good” or “not-so-good” theology? Why should we try to understand and talk accurately about God?

Because what we believe affects how we live.

Let me give you a hypothetical:

Imagine that at 4:45 on a Friday, 15 minutes before your work week ends, your boss comes up to you and says, “We have one more project to get done before the weekend. It should only take an hour.”

What’s your response?

What would you say? How would you feel? What would you do?

Maybe you’d just decide to tough it out and work until the project is done. Maybe you’d tell your boss that you wish you could help but you have something you can’t miss this evening and you have to go. Maybe you’d say an expletive, walk out, and never show back up to work.

But here’s my guess: My guess is that it depends on what you believe about your boss.

If you believe your boss is a kind, family-focused employer who cares about the well-being of her employees, you may decide to stay late to finish the project because you know she wouldn’t ask unless it was a truly meaningful project.

If you believe your boss always underestimates the length of time projects take by at least 50%, you may decide that you don’t have 2+ hours to spend late at the office and tell her that you’ve got plans this evening.

If you believe your boss is about to retire and is testing employees to see who has the drive to be her replacement, you might think for a bit about whether you want a promotion before making your decision.

My guess, too, is that it depends on what you believe about your job.

If you believe your job does good in the world, you might be more likely to continue working until this project is complete.

If you believe your job is just a waste of time and energy in the world, you might decide that keeping your dinner reservation is more important than any project your employer could hand you.

My guess is also that it depends on what you believe about yourself.

If you believe that you’re constantly at risk of being fired, you might not feel like you can say no to a request from your boss.

If you believe that your primary calling is to be a good spouse and parent, you might call home to see how much it will affect the family for you to stay late.

If you believe that your life is pretty lame, you might decide that if you’re going to waste your life, at least you can waste it helping someone else out of a bind.

Do you see what I’m getting at? What we believe—even if it’s not an accurate belief—affects how we live our life.

Now back to theology. Why does good theology matter? Because good theology affects how we live our life.

Another hypothetical:

Imagine that a friend texts you and say, “Hey, I know it’s late. But I’m really struggling and need someone to talk to. Can you come over?”

How do you respond?

Well, it depends on your beliefs about God, yourself, and others.

If you believe that enough faith will fix any problem, then you might respond with, “I can’t, but keep praying and reading your Bible and I know you’ll be given the strength to overcome the struggle *flex emoji*”

If you believe that God wants His children to know that they’re not alone and that you can be an embodiment of His presence, you might respond with, “I’m on my way over.”

If you believe that others are always out to manipulate you and take advantage of you so you need to protect yourself, you might respond with, “Can we meet at a neutral place, like Waffle House?”

Now think of the many weighty things that happen in the world:

How do you help the person on the street corner asking for money?
Do you participate in the protest happening in your city?
How do you begin a conversation with someone about their faith?
What should you do when you’re scared that you won’t have enough money to make it to the next paycheck?
How do you talk to your kids about their bodies and how to use them appropriately?
Should you join a travel sport that will keep you out of church for the next 3 months?
Is the situation you’re in God’s punishment on you?
What should you do to try to kick that bad habit you have?

Do you see how differences in theology—the ways we talk (and believe) about God—would radically change how different people might approach these situations?

When I talk about difference in theology or my particular theological tradition with Christians, I frequently get a comment that goes something like this, “Why does it matter? We all worship the same God.”

In one sense, absolutely. We’re all united by “one Lord, one faith, one baptism” (Eph. 4:5). We do worship the same God. We should celebrate that and not look down on anyone else for having different theology from us. More unites us than divides us, that’s for sure.

My primary hope for all people is that they’ll be in a relationship with their loving Father, whether that be in a Baptist, Catholic, Methodist, Presbyterian, or non-denominational church.

But also, we should care to understand God accurately. If we’re to be like God, to reflect His very character, then we should try to understand what He’s like. As Rachel Morley sings in one of my new favorite songs (“One Thing“), it is good for us to ask:

“What does He think about things?
How does He feel about it all?
If there’s something on His heart
I wanna treasure it in mine
What does He think about me?
How does He feel about my life?”

If we’re going to live like our rabbi, Jesus, then we would do well to understand Him accurately.

Have you ever known someone who thinks they know you well but don’t actually know you? Maybe this past Christmas, you were handed a gift from a distant aunt or coworker and they say, “I just know you’re going to love this,” only to open it up and look to see if they put the wrong name on the gift you were holding. They thought they knew you, but they don’t actually know you.

We can be like that with God. We can think that, certainly, God would vote for this political candidate, or say this particular thing, or treat this person in that way, when God’s sitting there thinking, “I’m not sure they understand who I am.”

So how do we begin developing “good” theology? I believe we do so through Scripture, with the Spirit, in community.

Through Scripture

Scripture is the primary way we get to know God. It’s a book inspired by Him about Him.

And let’s just pause here and marvel at the fact that the Creator of the universe wants to be known by His creation. It would probably be easier for God to create the world and leave it to its own devices, but God—in His love for His creation—chooses to know and be known by His creation. Wow!

Scripture is the story of God and the story of the world, including us. We get to know the real God through the words that are inspired by God Himself.

So read them. Study them. And don’t just study them for the purposes of knowing the Scriptures. Scripture isn’t an end unto itself. Instead, study them for the purposes of knowing God so that we can follow the two greatest commandments: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and love your neighbor as yourself (Matt. 22:37-40).

With the Spirit

It is only by the grace of God that we can understand God (Matt. 11:27). And it’s only by the grace of God that we can understand the Scriptures that teach us about God.

Do you know who is the best at teaching us how to talk and think about God? Well, God Himself, of course!

One of the most profound things about God is that He gives Himself to us. And one way that He gives Himself to us is through His Holy Spirit, who is accessible to all who profess Jesus as Lord. Seek to read Scripture and discern life’s challenges and interact with others with the Holy Spirit. He will change your heart and mind and actions to be aligned with good theology, theology that reflects who God is.

In Community

For 2000 years, God has given the Church the power and authority to teach and interpret the Scriptures for the world.

Maybe hearing the word “interpret” makes you uncomfortable. Maybe you say, “The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it. Why does the Bible need to be ‘interpreted?’”

If that’s you, I so admire your dedication to Scripture. But the Bible is always interpreted, even by those who don’t believe in interpreting the Bible. We take what the Bible says and seek to live out that truth in our lives, applying it within the context of the whole of Scripture and into our daily lives.

When you read that the psalmist says of God:”For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb… I am fearfully and wonderfully made,” (Ps. 139:13-14) what does that mean for the value of life?

When you read that God commands the Israelites, “When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself,” (Lev. 19:33-34) what does that mean for how we should treat immigrants?

Should we throw all of that out because it was written before Jesus? Was it only the psalmist who was fearfully and wonderfully made? Was it only the Israelites who were supposed to treat the foreigners as native-born? And how do we live that out in the 21st century in the nation that you’re reading this from?

That’s called Biblical interpretation.

It’s dangerous for us to do that work by ourselves. God didn’t create us to be all-wise; only He is. And we need to be wary of our theology departing from the truths of God that Jesus gave to us, as preserved and protected by the early Church. So we do the work of theology in community.

Certainly, we do this in community on Sunday mornings in pews or folding chairs. We do this on Wednesday evenings in small groups. We do this by listening to a pastor preach or by singing the words of an ancient hymn. It’s good (and some, including myself, would say necessary) to have people who are called by God and the Church to help us understand God rightly. It’s good to have songs and hymns that have stood the test of time and continue to shape our faith.

But we also do this around kitchen tables and on walks through the neighborhood. We do this with children and parents and construction workers and bankers.

In fact, my personal favorite theological conversations these days are the organic conversations that happen around a dinner table every Sabbath with two stay-at-home moms, a member of the military, and 5 children.

But theology happens in community. We need others to say, “Huh. I’m not sure that’s how I think of God” or “Interesting. How does that belief change how you interact with your neighbors?”

This is merely scratching the surface of why good theology matters. But I think it’s one of the most important reasons for why good theology matters.

I’m a pastor in the Global Methodist Church. Methodism is not only the theological tradition that brought me into a relationship with my Heavenly Father but, as I’ve come to learn, it has been really healing for me to know God, myself, and others rightly rather than accept cultural God-talk that doesn’t always align with what Scripture teaches about God.

I’m passionate about Methodist theology because I believe it’s the best articulation of who God is and how we should relate to Him, ourselves, and the world. Even if you’re not a Methodist but are reading this, I hope this fuels a passion for why you talk about God in the way you do.

I can’t even begin to count the number of times that I’ve passionately spoken about Methodism only for someone to come up to me and say something to the effect of, “That was nice, but why does it matter?” Maybe it’s the 6 years of my life that were dedicated to studying Methodist theology, but I used to find that offensive; I thought people were dismissing my theology because they thought their theology was so much better.

But now I realize it’s a misunderstanding. Or maybe a lack of understanding of this truth: what we believe about God affects all of our life. It affects how we think about ourselves, how we think about others, how we think about the world, and how we live. The reason why Methodist—or any other—theology matters, is because it affects how we live.

May you be blessed as you grow as a theologian, talking about God in ways that are good and right and healing for you and for the world.

If you’re new to my blog, welcome! I’m glad you’re here. I’m Hunter Bethea, a follower of Jesus, husband, father, Global Methodist pastor, and curator of books I don’t have time to read. You’re welcome to learn more about me here.

I primarily write about faith, family, and leadership, all through the Wesleyan language. If you’d like to receive my newest blog posts in your email, sign up below. Also, if you’d like to check out my Facebook page (where I share more than just my blog posts), check it out here!

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