When one takes a step back and considers theology as it is, large questions begin to appear sinisterly on the horizon. For years, one can find oneself “doing theology” without even considering such basic concepts such as: What is theology? What is its goal? And furthermore, what is the nature of theological discourse?
In this paper, I would like to examine the last question (what is theological discourse?) with respect to a particular linguistic concept: that of metaphor. First, I will address some preliminary assumptions concerning the use of theological language. Then I will examine what is meant by the term “metaphor.” Finally, I will assess some of the possible benefits and detriments using metaphors may have for the current theological conversation.
Before we can examine metaphorical propositions in the context of theological dialogue, we must first delineate the twofold path of theological language. And here, the differences tend to (though not exclusively) separate themselves between the Latin and Greek Churches. On the one hand, the Latin Church (generally) prefers a method of theological discourse based on κατιφατικος, that is, katiphosis. This means that the western church prefers a positive theology, one where we can make affirmative statements about God. For example, the via positive might rather confess that God is light, rather than that God is not darkness, or that God is Spirit, rather than that God is not fleshy.
On the other hand, the Eastern Church seems to be more of the opinion that theological discourse should take the form of αποφατικος, that is, negation. Human language, it is said, is a medium incapable of communicating the divine referent. The infinite cannot be contained by our finite speech. This view of theological discourse holds that God is beyond our language, preferring to say that God is not darkness, rather than that He is light, and so on and so forth. This way of speaking has been called “theology by apophasis” along with the “via negativa.”
Where one comes down on the question of the two ways for approaching theological discourse will profoundly affect their view of the appropriateness of using metaphors in theological discussion. We will return to this thought, but only after we consider Alister McGrath’s 3-fold definition of what a metaphor actually is.
We turn to McGrath’s observations concerning metaphor for two reasons: the first is that leaving contemporary circles (and returning to, say, Aristotle) would leave us in sheer ambiguity. It is no secret that, for most of its history, the term metaphor embraced just about every figure of speech, which would most likely hinder our current project, rather than clarifying or helping it. Therefore, it is necessary to turn instead to a more modern usage of the term, so that we may be clear and concise in our definition of terms.
The second reason we are using McGrath is the simple fact that McGrath does not present his own opinion: rather, he synthesizes a three-fold definition from a variety of contemporary sources. This is valuable because It will give us a general consensus of the term without requiring us to examine the work of each individual author.
As it was mentioned before, McGrath understands a threefold definition of metaphor:
- Metaphors imply both similarity and dissimilarity in two things being compared
- Metaphors cannot be reduced to definitive statements
- Metaphors often have strongly emotional overtones
The following will attempt to articulate what is meant by this threefold observation of metaphor and evaluate the benefit of using metaphor as a linguistic concept in theological discourse.
A metaphor, first and foremost, is a way of speaking about one thing in terms that are suggestive of another, but less conventional than that of an analogy. It is appropriate and conventional to say that “God is wise” (i.e. that God is connected analogically to the human concept of wisdom), but it is certainly unconventional to say that “God is a lion.” And this is because of the first observation McGrath has made about the usage of metaphors: they imply both similarity and dissimilarity.
Let us revisit our two statements above. “God is wise” does not necessarily exhibit any traces of being simultaneously similar and dissimilar. Aristotle’s law of non-contradiction is helpful here: God is not both wise and unwise, because wise and unwise are mutually exclusive terms. However, God can both be and not be a lion, because it is a metaphor: God can have the qualities of a lion without literally being a lion. McGrath connects this also to the idea of God being Father (using the work of Sallie McFague), although one must wonder if metaphor should rightly be applied to what Robert Jensen calls God’s “proper name.”
McGrath’s second observation concerning metaphor is that metaphors cannot be reduced to definite statements. What he means by this is that metaphors characteristically invite discussion as to what they mean, and have fluid definitions when placed in different cultures. For example, God as Father could mean many different things to someone depending on social context. Furthermore, the meaning would change more severely depending on how you viewed your own father. And so, a metaphor is an invitation to discover, since not only is there an “is and is not,” but this “is and is not” is constantly changing.
McGrath’s final observation is that metaphors themselves often have strongly emotional overtones. That is, metaphors are able to express the side of humanity which is not simply logical- they can express human thought which is romantic, personal, abstract, in ways that are beneficial for individual and corporate consumption. That is, metaphors are able to express the experiential side of life itself.
For example, McGrath takes the example of “God is life” and shows that such a small metaphor can communicate experiences of “illumination, purity, and glorification.” It is in this way that metaphors are inherently poetic and experiential in ways that other linguistic devices, such as analogies, are incapable of assuming.
And so, the final piece of the puzzle is evaluation. Are metaphors appropriate to use in theological discourse? In order to adequately answer this question, we must briefly consider the benefits and detriments of using them towards this goal.
There are first some obvious benefits to using metaphors in the theological discussion. On the onset, when one looks at history, the Church in nearly every age has used metaphors to convey theological truths. The nascent Old Testament Church had beautiful poetical literature at its disposal; the New Testament Church quickly utilized metaphors and extended metaphors in its liturgy, hymnody, and spiritual letters.
Jesus himself spoke in parables and allegories, which both made extended use of metaphorical language. And the early church was no different: both East (especially the Cappadocians and the Syriacs) and West (Augustine in particular) used metaphors and extended metaphors to express the meaning of theological truths. Therefore, one of the benefits of using metaphorical language to express theological content can be found in an argument of continuity with that Church that has gone before us, from Old Testament to modern times.
A second benefit of using metaphors is that they seemingly entertain a middle ground between the via positiva and the via negativa. On the one hand, the object of a metaphor is certainly to communicate something. But it is exactly in a metaphor’s “is but is not” that we find a parallel positive and negative statement about God. By using metaphors, there is the potential to both say something about God (the concern of the via positiva), but also understand that our affirmative statements are only attempts to describe a transcendent spiritual reality (the concern of the via negativa).
A third benefit of utilizing metaphors correlates with McGrath’s second third observations: metaphors take theology out of the abstract and make room for experience in theological discourse. “God is Father” only makes sense in relation to the experience of my own father. This correlation between theology and experiences glorifies vocational living to the state of divine, and reminds us that God is also present in the “earthly.” It furthermore connects theological discussion the whole human experience, not only rational capacities but also emotions and feelings.
However, we should be aware that certain dangers can result from our incautious, whole-sale consumption of using metaphorical language. First and foremost is that apophatic warning that language, even metaphorical language, cannot contain the entirety of the holy mysteries of the Godhead. God is still transcendent over language, so even metaphors will have a limit to which they can be pushed before either being forced into speculation or receding back into obscurity.
Likewise, as McGrath said before, metaphors are open to subjective (or socially particular) interpretation. This means that we must be careful concerning which metaphors we use in a given cultural context. Furthermore, metaphors require us to be aware of cultural changes that may shift their perceived meaning. This is furthermore true for the individual: because the metaphor hinges on personal experience, one cannot assume that every person will interpret it in the same way. For example, if one were to have experienced an abusive father, the metaphor of God as Father would be less comforting than it would be to someone who has experienced a loving Father.
The Gospel of John begins with the words, “The Word became flesh.” In theological discourse, we are attempting to accomplish the converse: to put the fleshy Jesus back into words. As we have seen, the metaphor, in its threefold definition given by McGrath, is one means towards this end. Metaphor usage has historical precedent in the church, presents a middle ground between αποφατικος and κατιφατικος, and accounts for the whole human experience.
Though there may be some very suitable cautionary conditions placed on our usage of them, it certainly seems to be the wisest course of action to continue to make use of metaphorical language in subsequent theological discourse.
