Download a PDF chart that illustrates the content of this article: Theological Method: Scripture, Tradition, Reason, Experience.
One of my favorite subjects to teach in the local church is theological method—what I like to call “the stuff before the stuff.” And somewhat to my surprise, I’ve found that laypeople are excited to discuss it. People want to know “why they believe what they believe,” and theological method helps to orient them to the process by which Christians arrive at their beliefs and practices.
Scripture, Tradition, Reason
Theological method involves at least three broad categories: Scripture, Tradition, and reason—Tradition (often though not always written with a capital “T”) being in this context the Church’s history of biblical interpretation, especially its theological consensus as expressed in documents like the Nicene Creed or synthesized in works like Lombard’s Sentences or more recently Thomas Oden’s Classic Christianity. In his Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, Richard Hooker wrote,
Be it in matter of the one kind or of the other, what Scripture doth plainly deliver, to that the first place both of credit and obedience is due; the next whereunto is whatsoever any man can necessarily conclude by force of reason; after these the voice of the Church [Tradition] succeedeth. That which the Church by her ecclesiastical authority shall probably think and define to be true or good, must in congruity of reason overrule all other inferior judgments whatsoever. (5.8.2)
These three have been illustrated as a “three-legged stool,” which is meant to indicate that they are each essential, but may inadvertently suggest that they are equal (whereas Scripture should in fact have primacy).
Experience?
In the Wesleyan tradition, the fourth category of experience is often included in treatments of theological method, and Albert Outler coined the term “the Wesleyan Quadrilateral” to pull together the four categories of Scripture, Tradition, reason, and experience. Like the three-legged stool illustration, the quadrilateral is often criticized for inadvertently suggesting that these four are equal. Many are also hesitant to exalt experience to a major category in theological method.
Personally, I am uncomfortable with the term “quadrilateral” as a way to introduce theological method, though I am glad that the illustration at least draws people’s attention to Tradition and reason (often overlooked) as vital to the interpretation of Scripture. And while I share the skepticism about highlighting experience alongside these three, I have come to recognize that it inevitably plays a role, may play a positive role, and at least needs to be addressed.
A New Metaphor
For years, I have taught theological method using numerous metaphors, but was never quite satisfied with them. Recently, I’ve begun using a new metaphor that seems to fit the bill: Scripture as the vast land/terrain that the church has inherited from God and is called to explore; Tradition as the map that 2,000 years of Christian “cartographers” agree accurately represents the terrain; Reason as the surveying tool that Christians today and across time have used to survey the land and evaluate the map; and Experience as the hiking stories of thousands of travelers who have walked the terrain.
Scripture: The Terrain
In this metaphor, Scripture is the land/terrain. Imagine Lewis and Clark exploring America for the first time. The terrain is vast. Like Scripture, some parts are a nice, easy walk, while others are extremely difficult and confusing to traverse. But the terrain itself is fixed and unchanging. It’s there. It’s stable. And it is the source and basis of any maps that are developed to represent it and handed down to others to help them traverse the same territory (the map of Tradition). The terrain is the focus of any surveying tools that are used to assess it (the surveying tool of reason). What people think they know about the land after traveling it must be tested against the land itself (the hiking stories of experience). Scripture is the focus and the fixed reality by which all else is judged.
Tradition: The Map
While the land is the focus and the fixed reality by which all else is judged, I cannot imagine traversing America without a map. I’m grateful that for centuries skilled surveyors and cartographers have developed highly accurate maps that orient me to the vast terrain, all its major parts, and how they fit together. That’s what the map of Tradition does. It can err, but it’s the formidable consensus of 2,000 years of skilled, Spirit-filled “surveyors.” It is a servant of the terrain of Scripture, but it is valuable and authoritative insofar as it reflects it. Tradition helps travelers to stay within the boundaries of the land (orthodoxy). The map of Tradition is normative for faith, though Scripture alone is the norm of norms—the final authority by which all is tested.
Reason: The Surveying Tool
To get an accurate understanding of the terrain, and to collect data to develop a map, one needs a surveying tool. The surveying tool of Reason is essential to study Scripture (and to learn from and evaluate Tradition). Of course, instruments can be broken or poorly calibrated, and in the case of human reason, it is weak and fallible because of the fall (the noetic effects of sins). Good theological study requires constantly repairing and fine-tuning the instrument. One of the best ways to test the instrument is to compare it to the findings of thousands of other instruments (Tradition).
Experience: Hiking Stories
When one’s goal is to acquire an accurate understanding of a vast terrain, there is some value in what seasoned travelers say about the terrain from their own experience of it. However, these “hiking stories” need to be subordinated to Scripture, Tradition, and reason, since people’s perception can easily be distorted by any number of factors. But when thousands of travelers all say the same thing, their stories may play some role in theological method. For example, it can have a confirming role. A thousand travelers may say, “You have charted Slope A as slightly steeper than Slope B—yes, we know from hiking both those slopes that this is true.” That gives surveyors some added confidence that they measured correctly, though their conclusions were not dependent on the hiking stories. On the flip side, if a thousand travelers say, “You have charted Slope A as slightly flatter than Slope B, and we all agree from hiking it that you’re wrong,” it’s at least worth re-surveying that slope to ensure it is accurately represented. Perhaps the travelers are right—or perhaps they are wrong, and other factors made them feel like they were walking a steeper slope than they actually were. Hiking experience is valuable, but hikers have a very limited perspective and must hold their professed experience loosely and humbly—not barge into a room of professional surveyors and try to overturn their findings on the basis of a few personal stories.
Conclusion
One thing that I love about this metaphor is that it can be stretched surprisingly far. When I recently taught this chart to a group of laypeople, I was encouraged by some of the creative suggestions that I received. For example, someone said, “I like that the land is there, even if it hasn’t been mapped. It’s just there. And someone may have some real experience of the terrain, even if they don’t have a map to help them. But their perspective will probably be distorted. They might find a hill and think it’s really big, not realizing that the Rocky Mountains exist and are way higher and a much bigger deal.” In other words, the person was saying that Tradition helps us to practice theological triage—to avoid making mountains out of mole hills!
The terrain itself always gets priority. The modern surveyor (interpreter) should spend most of his time on the land of Scripture. However, he would be foolish to throw out the map of Tradition and try to redraw it from scratch, relying only on his own instrument of Reason or his own hiking stories of Experience. By doing this, he will inevitably have a distorted perspective, and his “systematic theology” (whether or not he calls it that) will end up looking like Sebastian Munster’s 1540 map of America (look it up)—or probably much worse!
