On the Freedom of (Budding) Theologians
Fr. Joseph Komonchak is a wise man. Or at least I've always thought so, since I had him in class as an undergrad. There is just something about the way he teaches that seems to give him a venerable and authoritative, as well as somewhat endearing, air. To put this another way: in class, Komonchak is fairly good at maintaining the appearance of moderateness. He seems to disclose the history of theology in a way that does justice to the treasures of each age and the virtues of each figure. His favorites are clear enough, but he maintains a consistent and non-polemical tone throughout. He comes across, in a word, as the one who seeks wisdom wherever it can be found. At least, as I said, this is how I remember him.
Fr. Komonchak's "tone," as I have described it above, has made it difficult for me to disagree with the man. After all, he is the venerable senior historian-theologian in the school, and I but the lowly grad student still wet behind the ears. He has studied the great texts, innumerable primary sources spanning the whole Christian era, and I haven't even finished the slim list of books for my comprehensive exam in the spring. He reads Latin for fun, doubtless tackling large chunks of stylistically sophisticated material each week with his little reading group, and I've struggled for a week trying to translate a few pages of French. Who am I to contradict this wizened fellow?
So it was for me a truly liberating experience when, in class this past Wednesday, I discovered that I have a substantial disagreement with the man over a fundamental theological-methodological issue, and let him know to his face. Komonchak, whose class proposes to help us find reasonable grounds to make foundational theological commitments, cited the work of Avery Dulles as a kind of foil for his position. He claimed that Dulles's understanding of the method of models, which he had famously employed in his books Models of the Church and Models of Revelation, amounts to a kind of eclecticism that avoids the problem of making fundamental decisions by suspending that decision indefinitely. On his reading, Dulles's work in models fails to generate a fruitful theological approach and, therefore, fails altogether to do systematic theology. Komonchak also reduces Dulles's method of models in effect to what he has called "picture thinking," which he ridicules on the grounds that we simply don't think in pictures. At least, he himself does not, or so he believes.
Upon hearing this, I couldn't help but raise the issue in class. I told him that I thought his reading of Dulles and the models method was off the mark. I conceded that a mere exposition of models was not systematic theology properly speaking. Nevertheless, Dulles does show models to be a useful tool in elaborating theology, and one that does not obviate any need for genuine theological commitments. Models essentially set up a problematic for theology, highlighting aspects of a theological "object" that would need to be held together in a systematic theology. Theology itself is a committed task, a thinking task that takes place in the tension between the models. In terms of Lonergan, I would say that the examination of models more or less exactly coincides with the "dialectical" specialty in systematic theology. To show that Dulles is himself a committed theologian and not just a pseudo-neutral model-monger, I pointed out that Dulles himself expresses clear preferences for certain models over others, even though he ultimately denies that a "super-model" that would exhaust any need for other models can be developed. His preferences are also expressed in the seven criteria he uses to evaluate the various models. I also said that Dulles's clear commitments are even more obvious in the second half of Models of Revelation, which as it were goes beyond the five models he had previously proposed to elaborate a truly systematic contribution to the theology of revelation.
I think that this disagreement was ultimately a healthy event for myself and the class. After my comment, Komonchak stood by his position while making a move to consolidate his authority on the issue of Dulles and models: he noted his extensive study of Models of the Church and his ongoing correspondence with Cardinal Dulles. But his comments were not quite sufficient to end the discussion. Though Komonchak tried to move on to another topic, another student raised a question on the Dulles issue only a few minutes later, asking whether Komonchak could comment on Dulles's method in Models of Revelation. Komonchak confessed that he had not read that book in some time and so could not comment. Without trying to utterly undermine the "air of wisdom" I mentioned at the beginning of these words, or the legitimate bases for it, I will suggest that in the wake of this issue the class as a whole has become a bit more willing to take Komonchak's opinions with a grain of salt.
