Theological methodology offers a systematic framework for theologians to study, interpret, and understand religious claims, texts, and traditions, employing consistent methods, principles, and tools to address theological questions and produce coherent, meaningful insights.

This methodological exploration aims to respond to Sam Harris’s call for theology to offer rational insights into ethics, meaning, and purpose, aligning with contemporary standards of academic rigor and intellectual integrity.

We begin this discussion by exploring various meanings of revelation, a cornerstone of Christian theology.

Revelation, in Catholic theology, is fundamentally the act by which the divine discloses and offers information to humanity.

Avery Dulles, in his work Models of Revelation (1992), identifies several models that illustrate the diverse ways Catholic theology has conceptualized the process of revelation. These models reflect varying understandings of how revelation occurs and is received:

• The Propositional Model: Revelation is viewed as a set of propositional truths, demonstrated in history and by insight, objectively conveyed through Scripture and Church teaching. 

• The Historical Model: This model views revelation as unfolding through historical events and accumulated human experience, with insights building upon previous insights and assertions (akin to the propositional model, but with less emphasis on formal expression). 

• The Inner Experience Model: Revelation is an interior encounter, a personal experience of God’s presence, often emphasized in mystical traditions and as seen in prophetic encounters.

• The New Awareness Model: Revelation is an ongoing process of deepening insights and growing awareness of the sacred dimensions present in reality, particularly in relation to existential and normative matters. 

Dulles argues these models are complementary, not mutually exclusive. They underscore that revelation is a process, which for Catholics is mediated through the Church, thus shaping its theology. 

As we probe deeper into understanding revelation, we must set aside naive notions of God whispering into the ears of select humans or inspiring the writing of magical books supercharged with some unexplainable power. 

Such simplistic images, while evocative, reduce the divine encounter to a mechanical process that occurs once and ends.

Revelation, as a dynamic self-disclosure of God, transcends these anthropomorphic fantasies and is an ongoing, complex interplay of historical events, personal experiences, and communal interpretations. 

The Scriptures and Tradition emerge not as enchanted artifacts but as living testimonies and shared wisdom, produced by human authors and mediated through the Church’s discernment.

In Judaism and early Christianity, God’s act of speaking is understood as a creative and constitutive force that brings the world into being. Genesis 1:3, with God’s command “Let there be light,” initiates creation through the spoken word, establishing order. 

Jewish thought, enriched by the Midrash, portrays these words as dynamic forces that shape reality, embodying the essence of creation. At the same time, John 1:1 identifies Christ as the Logos, the divine Word (better translated as inner meaning and logic), sustaining all.

Such assertions prompt the question: What is the God who speaks?

Revelation’s nature hinges on our view of God, forming the epistemological core of theology. If God is a personal, relational being, revelation becomes a dialogue, as seen in dialogic exchanges with Moses or prophets. In this case, revelational leans toward the propositional. 

Alternatively, suppose God is the transcendent, creative force that permeates the world. Here, we are envisioning God in a less anthropocentric manner. In this case, revelation transforms into a process of discovery, deepening existential awareness through participation in the divine will of creation.

I propose leaning toward this latter understanding, where revelation unfolds immanently. This shifts our understanding of revelation away from anthropomorphic propositional exchanges to relational awareness, informed by existential and phenomenological insights into the sacred and normative dimensions of reality.

Add to this a second set of insights: that revelation is an evolving process, embedded in a narrative context, shaped by historical and communal experiences and interpretations.

Let’s take a simple example from the Hebrew Scriptures to illustrate these distinctions. The rules of Kosher eating (Kashrut). Here’s the difference between the two approaches:

A dialogic propositional approach to revelation asserts that God told Moses that shrimp are unclean and not to be consumed. All propositions require interpretation, but a dialogic propositional stance tends toward literalism in its interpretative efforts.

An approach of ongoing, increasing awareness asserts that the command not to eat shrimp emerges in a communal and cultural context, and interprets the command by probing the broader meaning of ritual purity, ethical eating, and the purpose of religious dietary prohibitions. 

Neither approach is mutually exclusive. However, the latter approach is rooted in a spirit of wonder and curiosity, whereas the former tends toward a settled, accepted literalism. 

Any theology capable of speaking to the post-secular cultural and aligning with contemporary standards and modes of human knowledge must be rooted in the second approach. 

The frequent reliance on revelation to justify theological claims often succumbs to circular reasoning, a logical fallacy in which the premise presumes the conclusion it aims to establish, thereby challenging its credibility.

Traditional uses of revelation, particularly in conservative theological circles, often presuppose the authority and truth of the revelation itself, forming a closed loop that stifles critical inquiry and distances modern audiences.. This self-referential stance undermines engagement with a pluralistic society.

Consider Dulles’ model of revelation as propositional. This framework posits that scripture and/or church teachings are based on divinely revealed statements in a simplistic manner. 

Such an approach promotes circularity: the statement’s (or insight’s) divine origin is assumed, leading to the tautology, “The teaching is true because it is God’s word, and we know it’s God’s word because God says so.” 

Even the revelation-as-developing-awareness model is not exempt. Assertions of an insight being of divine origin are rooted in prior theological beliefs, echoing, “I know it’s God’s revelation because it feels divine,” presuming the conclusion within the premise.

In the case of Catholicism, one can reflect on the doctrine of papal infallibility. How do we justify that the pope and magisterium are credible and even infallible? Because they say they are. 

In many cases, a circular argument also implies self-asserted authority. Arguments from authority, especially those from self-proclaimed infallible individuals, often alienate modern audiences who prioritize reason, evidential justification, and expository and clarifying dialogue. 

This arrogance, accompanied by circularity, sidesteps external critiques and alternative epistemologies, hindering meaningful dialogue.

A revised theological methodology would seek validation of its claims through reason, experience, and ongoing dialogue, thereby fostering credibility in a skeptical, post-secular age.

In contemporary Christianity, the concept of faith is often misconstrued, stripped of its original depth, and reduced to a simplistic acceptance of propositional truths.

This misinterpretation transforms faith into fantasy projection, wish fulfillment, or magical thinking, harming theology, Christian practice, and diminishing its relevance in a post-secular world.

The English term “faith” derives from the Greek “pistis,” meaning trust, confidence, or reliance, rather than mere intellectual assent. In the New Testament, “pistis” reflects a relational stance, as seen in Abraham’s trust in God’s covenant (Genesis 15:6) and Jesus’ call to trust in God’s kingdom (Mark 11:22), portraying faith as a lived, dynamic commitment based on trust.

However, Enlightenment rationalism has shifted faith toward belief in factual claims, equating doctrinal affirmation with religious correctness and spiritual maturity.

For example, today’s approaches to faith result in near-blind, mindless acceptance of literal readings of scripture and teachings as a sheer act of will, motivated by a desire to be accepted and deemed correct. 

Faith, instead, is a developed trust in the Christian worldview and its subsequent wisdom based on reflection of lived experience and results. 

A revised theological methodology redefines faith as trust—a relational, open-ended commitment to a life aligned with values like love and justice, despite uncertainty. 

This resonates with the post-secular emphasis on authenticity and experience, restoring faith as a source of meaning and ethical grounding, free from fantasy or magical misinterpretations.

Contemporary theology is rife with category errors. 

These errors arise when theologians and Christians assume that ancient theological claims are propositional truths, crafted within an Enlightenment mindset of empirical rationality. 

This misstep distorts the nature of Christianity’s foundational claims, many of which were not intended as simplistic, factual assertions but as expressions of truth using metaphor, mythopoesis, and symbolism. 

Recognizing this error highlights the need for a modern theological methodology that respects the original intent and intellectual context of these claims while engaging with today’s pluralistic world.

The Enlightenment, emphasizing reason and propositional clarity, conditions modern thinkers to interpret ancient texts through a lens of literalism and historical accuracy. As a result, many Christians today, especially in Evangelical or conservative circles, interpret theological claims as if they were scientific or historical reports. 

For instance, the six-day creation account in Genesis 1 is often debated as a factual timeline, with young-earth creationists arguing that it refutes evolutionary science. 

However, such assertions and interpretations are the result of a category error. Ancient theological claims, rooted in pre-modern contexts, operated within a different epistemological framework. 

Genesis, written in a mythic style common to Near Eastern cultures, employs poetic language—“Let there be light”—to convey theological truths about God’s creativity and the goodness and coherence of creation, rather than providing a scientific-historical account. 

The seven-day structure mirrors ancient temple inauguration rituals, symbolizing cosmic order rather than literal chronology.

Mythopoesis and symbolism dominate Christianity’s foundational claims. The Virgin Birth, for example, employs the motif of divine birth, a common theme in ancient literature, to signify Jesus’ unique spiritual status, rather than a biological fact. 

These claims were crafted to evoke awe and convey transcendent truths through narrative and imagery, rather than to assert propositional certainty in the Enlightenment sense of certainty.

This category error—treating metaphor and mythopoesis as fact—leads to rigid literalism, which then morphs into theological absurdities, fueling conflicts such as creationism versus evolution or debates over biblical inerrancy. 

Most individuals have updated computer or smartphone systems, replacing flawed designs with improved features, despite the inconvenience of change. 

Though often frustrating, these updates generally enhance long-term performance, even if not all promised benefits materialize.

Christian theology and spirituality require overdue intellectual updates and systemic upgrades to uphold and ensure the tradition’s viability. These revisions demand time and will involve discomfort and sometimes painful shifts, including discarding outdated elements to adopt new frameworks.

The choice is ours: upgrade and refine our understanding, or let antiquated systems falter and fail.

One initial task is to integrate evidential reasoning into theology, thereby fostering a theology that can engage contemporary thought.

Illative reasoning, also known as inference or insight, works in a supportive and conducive manner alongside evidential reasoning. 

This form of reasoning involves determining the most plausible explanation of claims or assertions by weighing probability, likelihood, and common sense judgment. 

Illiative reasoning is not strictly a form of deduction, but rather induction mingled with insight and weighed in terms of daily experience. 

This method is widely applied across various fields, including science, philosophy, and everyday problem-solving. Given the available evidence, it seeks the most plausible explanation and infers conclusions accordingly.

Hypotheses vary in complexity, specificity, and explanatory power, ranging from simple insights to intricate theories. Illative reasoning evaluates each hypothesis’s explanatory strength against observed evidence. Explanations offering coherence, comprehensiveness, and plausibility emerge as stronger contenders.

It selects the hypothesis providing the best overall explanation, known as inference to the best explanation. This choice, although not proven beyond a doubt, is deemed the most reasonable based on current evidence.

Subsequent steps may involve testing the hypothesis against new evidence or predictions derived from it.

Further observation or experimentation can confirm the hypothesis, enhancing its credibility and reinforcing the conclusion drawn through illative reasoning.

This process requires assessing alternative explanations and potential objections, weighing the strengths and weaknesses of competing views while addressing counterarguments or uncertainties.

Illative reasoning builds a cumulative case by integrating multiple evidence strands, converging on a single explanation to bolster the conclusion’s validity.

Inherently tentative, it remains open to revision with new evidence or alternative interpretations, adapting as knowledge evolves.

Mythopoesis, the art of creating myths to convey meaning, is central to understanding the theological methods of ancient Christianity and offers profound implications for modern theology. 

Mythopoesis, derived from the Greek terms mythos (story) and poiesis (making), refers to the construction of symbolic narratives that convey profound existential truths about human life, the divine, and the cosmos. 

Unlike scientific or historical discourse, which seeks empirical precision, mythopoesis operates in the realm of imagination and meaning, employing metaphors, allegories, and narratives to convey realities that exceed literal description. 

For early Christians, theology was an art of meaning-making through mythopoetic forms, and a modern theological methodology must reclaim this approach.

Mythopoesis conveys existential meaning, not scientific or historical fact. For example, most biblical stories were never meant to be historical reports in the modern sense; they were crafted to evoke awe, inspire the imagination, and orient believers toward ultimate meaning. 

The ancients understood that truths about divinity, sacred reality, or human destiny—transcendent and ineffable—required the symbolic language of myth, not the propositional clarity of scientific reasoning, which they did not possess anyway. 

This method allowed early Christians to engage diverse Jewish, Greek, and Roman cultures by speaking to universal human experiences through shared symbolic frameworks.

For example, consider the Garden of Eden described in the Book of Genesis. Were the ancient authors referencing an actual location and a real garden? If we could go back in time and have a conversation with ancient Jews, much of our manner of reasoning and resulting questions would make little sense to them. “How big was the garden?” Or “Where was the garden located?” Such questions would have made no sense to an ancient interlocutor. 

Why? Most likely, the garden was a symbol and/or metaphor for a state of being related to the human condition. It may also have been a reference to hunter-gatherer culture. The lack of an actual Garden of Eden wouldn’t have troubled an ancient listener. The empirical factual situations were besides the point of the myth and its meaning. 

Modern theology must reintegrate this approach, recognizing that we, too, must do theology as an art of meaning-making. Perhaps more importantly, we should avoid interpreting ancient mythopoesis in the manner of post-Enlightenment reasoning. 

In a post-secular age, where science dominates factual inquiry, theology’s role is not to assert empirical claims as much as to address existential questions, such as purpose, the meaning of suffering, and hope, through symbolic and narrative forms. 

By embracing mythopoesis, theology becomes a creative, dialogical practice, offering meaning in a fragmented world, just as the ancients did through their sacred stories.

For Christianity or any religion to remain authentic and enhance human lives, it must center on truth, grounded in meaning, rather than fantastical empirical claims about Arks and Gardens justified by baseless speculation.

The proper function of theology is not to pronounce on the mechanics of virgin births and resurrected bodies or elaborate on the process of transforming wine and bread into Jesus. 

Rather, the purpose of theology is to elaborate the meaning of such claims. What is the significance of saying Jesus was virgin-born, resurrected from the dead, and is present in the Eucharist?

Theology’s strength lies in addressing issues of existential import: human dignity, moral purpose, and the pursuit of goodness.

A mature theology acknowledges its limits, cedes explanatory claims to science, and focuses on its actual task: illuminating meaning and guiding ethical life in a world science describes but cannot normatively judge.

Sadly, as a result of this methodological confusion, much of contemporary Christian theology fosters a spirituality that amounts to magical thinking, wish fulfillment, and ego projection.

To restore credibility, we must turn away from any ideological theology that lacks humility, makes unwarranted claims, and arrogantly demands that reality conform to its narrow views. 

Any theology that militantly imposes itself on reality without regard for reason, science, and the truth that emerges from lived experience is false.

What is needed is a return to a theology of meaning that humbly proposes its wisdom for the post-Christian, post-Enlightenment world to consider.

We must reject ideological theology that lacks humility, makes unfounded assertions, and arrogantly demands that reality conform to its narrow perspective. Any theology imposing itself militantly, ignoring reason and lived experience, proves false.

The goal is a theology of meaning, emphasizing rational exploration of purpose, value, and wisdom, engaging in constructive dialogue with diverse human knowledge, including science.

Consequently, our theology must align with our best understanding of reality, integrating insights from science, philosophy, and human experience, while remaining open to mythopoetic understandings. 

A theology of meaning organizes religious beliefs into frameworks that illuminate existential purpose and normative wisdom. It identifies core themes and concepts, articulating their interconnections to reveal the significance of theological claims for human life.

Returning theology to this focus allows for a rapprochement with naturalism and Enlightenment thinking by affirming the world’s inherent meaning without competing with their domains. 

This methodology fosters interdisciplinary dialogue, drawing on psychology, sociology, literature, science, and the arts. Such engagement enriches theological inquiry, offering fresh perspectives on questions of purpose and value.

Above all, it focuses on the normative dimensions of reality, elaborating insights through metaphor, mythopoesis, and illative reasoning, which weave diverse experiences into a unified understanding.

Additionally, it incorporates historical-critical analysis of texts and traditions to uncover their original meaning (if possible) and relevance to lived experience now.

We must return to theology as a form of wisdom. Wisdom is not primarily about factual knowledge of the world. Instead, wisdom focuses on praxis, how to live a good and meaningful life. 

In essence, theology doesn’t explain the world; it offers a way to live in it.