Pawn to King 4

This last spring at ACU we hosted a scholar who made a series of presentations about same sex attraction, with a particular focus on how a Christian university like ours should address the issue in the lives of our students.

After one of the presentations one of my colleagues asked me what I thought of the talks. I responded, "Pawn to King 4."

You might not know anything about chess, but "Pawn to King 4" is the most common opening move for White who starts off the game.

The point of my metaphor was that once the game opens with Pawn to King 4 the game is set upon a certain trajectory. A different trajectory than if White had made a different opening, say, Pawn to Queen 4 (1. d4 rather than 1. e4). King pawn openings are different from Queen pawn openings, and there are numerous other choices as well (for example, I like the English opening, 1. c4).

The point I was making about the presenter was that, once he deployed his opening assumptions about the bible and sexuality the rest of the talk, while very good, was fairly predictable. Once I saw his King Pawn opening I knew where we were going.

I think a lot of theology is like this. Pawn to King 4. You start with a certain set of premises and then work from there. But a different theologian might open with a different set of assumptions. Consequently, her game goes in a different direction.

In a related way, sometimes I think theology is kind of like geometry. For example, if you assume Euclid's fifth postulate, the parallel postulate where two parallel lines are assumed to never touch, you get Euclidean geometry, the math of flat space. But if you reject the parallel postulate and assume that parallel lines can touch, you get Non-Euclidean geometry, the geometry of curved space (the math, incidentally, that Einstein used to solve the equations of the warped spacetime of General Relativity).

The point is, sometimes I think of theology like Euclidean and Non-Euclidean geometry. Some theologians assume the parallel postulate, like some play Pawn to King 4. Other theologians reject the parallel postulate and play Pawn to Queen 4. Two different geometries. Two different chess games. Two different theological positions.

Do these observations have any practical relevance to non-theologians? I think so.

If you haven't noticed, people disagree a lot about religion. And sometimes those disagreements get nasty. Recently, however, in my discussions with Dr. Kirk about universalism, many have commended us on the civil and curious tone of the conversation. Why has this been the case?

I think it has to do with the fact that we're aware that we are playing different opening moves. Dr. Kirk is playing 1. e4 and I'm playing 1. Nf3. Neither is right or wrong per se. One is more traditional and orthodox. The other is less common and heterodox. Each has strengths. Each has weaknesses. But after the moves have been played we can sit back and enjoy the artistry of how the game unfolds from those starting points. For each chess opening has its own interior logic. And lots of hidden surprises.

In short, it's fun to watch how people play the game. And you learn a lot from watching.

I'm not suggesting that Dr. Kirk and I are theological grandmasters. (Well, he is, he's a professor of New Testament. I'm a theological hobbyist.) What I'm trying to say that theological dialogue becomes possible if we can sit back and enjoy watching the game unfold. To appreciate the internal logic of a system that is different from our own. True, you'd never open your chess game in this manner. But you can study and appreciate the way this alternative opening moves the game into configurations you've never seen, wrestled with, or considered before. More, it allows you to get out of a "right vs. wrong" frame where you can start having interesting conversations like "Now why did you make this move? Oh, I see. That's interesting, I never would have thought about that. Still, what about his line of attack, shouldn't you be looking at that as well?" And so on.

For example, I don't agree with Reformed theology. I don't like its opening moves. It's too Euclidean for my Non-Euclidean tastes. But I get the internal logic of Reformed theology. I understand its assumptions and how those assumptions work together to explain Scripture and the Christian experience. Reformed theology has a beautiful structure with great appeal to many. It's a Pawn to King 4 theological system that I can appreciate. I just don't open the game in the same way.

I guess the natural response of some will be to suggest that there is a "right" way to open a chess game. Obviously, given my metaphor, I'd disagree. The game has too much history, too many players, too many epic contests, and too much left to be discovered to believe that there is one and only one correct opening. Theologically speaking, if we always had to play Pawn to King 4 how could Fisher have surprized Spassky in Game Six with 1. c4?