A term that is used quite frequently in certain theological circles is the term “contextualization.” Contextualization is a term that describes the process between the exegesis of Scripture and the delivery of its meaning to a receptor culture (i.e. another context). Grant R. Osborne (Ph.D., University of Aberdeen), Professor of NT at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School defines contextualization as “that dynamic process which interprets the significance of a religion or cultural norm for a group with a different (or developed) cultural heritage” (The Hermeneutical Spiral, pg. 318). Much of the novel fascination we see with contextualization has to do with the recent theories put forth and presented by missiologists. But as Osborne points out “it is important to note that what they call ‘contextualization’ is identical to what homileticians call ‘application’” (Ibid. pg. 318).

In this post I hope to use examples of some of the blasphemous theology in Africa that developed from radical nonevangelical hermeneutics in attempts to “contextualize.” Friends, this has been going on for quite some time now - at least a quarter-century, maybe longer. These African examples should awaken us to the severe implications of when the transcendent, supracultural nature of biblical truth is replaced by the primacy of current cultural context. For the record, I am not opposed to contextualization. In fact, I am doing it here, and I can’t remember a time when I didn’t ever do it. The degree that our contextualization retains and preserves biblical truth should be the degree that it is praised and encouraged. And the degree to which it compromises biblical truth should be the degree it is rejected. I’ll put it more forceful and say that it must be rejected.

I plan, and if God wills, to publish some work I’ve done in this field in the future. But today, I want to serve you by discussing some of these African theologies. As we look at these examples, keep in mind that their concepts and syncretism are really no more blasphemous, idolatrous, and demonic than what we see here in America on TV, in our churches, in our homes, and for some (if not most), in ourselves! If you are shocked at how far wrong they’ve gone, then take an introspective perspective and by God’s grace he’ll loosen and unfetter you, and if He wills, release you from your slavery to your apathy.

First, you may recall some of the controversy surrounding Bible translations such as the NIV et al. One issue was with “dynamic equivalency.” This term refers to the translator’s task of translating thought-for-thought rather than word-for-word or literal (formal equivalency). A good example is given by James R. White (Alpha and Omega Ministries) when he points out that “[T]he French have a saying that goes ‘j’ ai le carfard.” The most literal translation would be, ‘I have the cockroach.’” (The King James Only Controversy, pg. 23) White goes on to say that “[s]pecifically, this saying means ‘I am depressed’ or ‘I have the blues.’” In short, a dynamic equivalence translation (or contextualization) is needed in this case in order to preserve the meaning (I’m depressed - not I have an insect) from French to English. He also provides another example from the German language, but you will need to buy the book yourself for that! Of course, he was addressing issues in Bible (language) translations, and we are not. But this, I think, is relevant because the theoretical concept of dynamic equivalency is not limited to use in language barriers, but is applied in modern efforts to contextualize the Christian faith, namely, the gospel.

“The recent missiological debate centers upon ‘dynamic equivalence’ contextualization, which attempts to make the gospel and Christian theology meaningful and relevant in the diverse cultures of our modern world. Many approaches to contextualization have centered upon the contemporary context rather than the ancient text as the generating force” (Osborne, pg. 321)

Charles Kraft, taking a similar approach to Charles R. Taber, says the Bible centers upon the subjective pole of communication (divine-human interactions) more than upon the objective pole of propositional dogma (Christianity in Culture, see chapter ten). Kraft’s entire theoretical superstructure is erected upon this foundation (chaps. thirteen to seventeen). I agree closely with Kraft in that contemporary translations (of Scripture and theology) must achieve the same impact upon the receptor culture as was felt by the original readers, but I side closer with Osborne in that Kraft’s application of dynamic equivalence to the task of communicating theology needs to be considerably sharpened. Osborne notes that “[t]here is too little of the text left when Kraft finishes, too little that is supracultural. The Bible as he sees it is too culture bound, with too little theological truth that carries over” (Osborne, pg. 322). In a sense, this is how i view Keller’s “gospel for the uncircumcised.” (not his overall ministry)

I appreciate Grant Osborne’s boldness in stating that Charles Kraft and other dynamic equivalence contextualizers need a deeper appreciation of the dangers of relativism. Osborne continues to critique relativistic nonevangelical contextualizers such as James Barr who argued that “the Bible is a relativistic book that was written to a radically different culture with a message that cannot possibly be authoritative for the modern person because it is couched in terms that no longer relate to current problems and perspectives (1973:42-23)” (Ibid. pg. 323). Barr’s view represents a decline in the sliding scale of relativism, much more than Kraft, but there is far greater danger ahead.

This brief groundwork was simply to establish the need for concern and return to evangelical hermeneutics. As we’ve seen, relativism and syncretism are firmly in control of nonevangelical contextualization. Osborne says, “Without controls that center upon the meaning of the text, one will contextualize to a religious expression that is no longer Christian…When cultural norms have ascendancy over the text itself, there is no longer theology but only a human-centered anthropology.” Again, much of my critique of Keller’s “gospel for the uncircumcised” can be better understood in terms of these severe statements by our top scholars (Carl F. Henry, D.A. Carson, John Frame, Vanhoozer, John Woodbridge, Moises Silva, Doug Moo, Blomberg, France, Dunbar, Wells, et al.) that all seem to be saying much of the same.

Now to Africa. According to Grant LeMarquand (Wycliffe College, Toronto, Canada), “In contrast to most Western exegesis we find that most African exegesis focuses on the community receiving the text rather that the community which produced the text.”  Immediately we can see how the intended meaning of the authors of Scripture can be so radically obscured to the point where almost any idea can develop and still be called biblical or Christian. Since exegesis of this fashion is only limited by the receptor audience, then it should be no surprise to extrapolate theology through this filter and have as a final product a theology to fit the receptor culture.

Gabriel Setiloane is a good example of a nonevangelical contextualized theology, or as it is called, a “purely African theology.” Setiloane’s view is that African theology should center upon African spiritual concepts and divinity rather than Western religious images. Osborne notes that in Setiloane’s theology, “the individual is presented as a ‘participant in divinity’ (a contextualization building upon animism), and the Christ-myth is expressed via the African Bongaka, or ‘witch doctor,’ who is possessed by divinity.” In researching this myself, I found that Osborne may have made a mistake in equating “Bongaka” with “witch doctor.” It appears that the witch doctor is the “dingaka,” a role in which “Bangaka” is the practice or craft.

According to Gomang Seratwa Ntloedibe-Kuswani’s essay “Bongaka, Women and Witchcraft,” “The arrival of the Europeans and the introduction of their concepts and world-view over Batswana have resulted in the attempt to equate dingaka (plural) to Western trained doctors. It is doubtful if the concepts of the ngaka (diviner-healer) and the Western doctor are equivalent. If these concepts are not equivalent, then injustice might have been done to either or both.” Ntloedibe-Kuswani has made a distinction between two classes of witch doctors (there are more now), a distinction perhaps the European missionaries didn’t understand. The point is that although one class of witch doctor functioned in African communities similar to the way Western trained doctors functioned, the overlooked class - the divine class - cannot be considered equal to a western “physician.” In order to see the full picture we need to follow the distinction and briefly discuss the concept of ngaka. In case you’re wondering where this is going, ngaka is the concept that Jesus the Christ is interpreted through in some African theologies (in America it’s Kierkegaard and other philosophers).

The best way to describe this gap between the Western doctor and the concept of ngaka is the divination aspect of the ngaka’s work. “The distinctive characteristic of the ngaka with power is that he/she is a diviner [Krige and Krige, 1943].” Ntloedibe-Kuswani says, “Batswana see a ‘diviner-healer’ as peculiar in the sense that ‘ga a botse o a bolela’ (he/she does not ask for the problem but he/she tells what the problem is), the source of his/her healing is divine, and that there is faith in his/her work. To quote one of my informants ‘Ngaka ya Setswana e dira ka tumelo’, meaning ‘a Motswana healer works by faith’. It is the divination exercise that creates a gap between the ngaka and a Western doctor. The ngaka’s function is not only healing in the sense of physical illness but also in the sense of spiritual illness. Attending physical symptoms and causes does not complete the mission of the ngaka. Divination is an act in which people are moved by what they feel and believe to be their experience of the sacred or the transcendental power [Werbner, 1989]. It is the divination dimension that brings the ordinary/the profane - the person of the ngaka - into contact with the sacred. Then the ngaka becomes an object or a hierophany serving as a medium of the sacred power.”

It is obvious from a Biblical Christian perspective that the concept and power of ngaka is demonic. Nothing but raw occultism is on display, and this cultural phenomenon cannot in any way re-express the normative biblical content in dogmatic symbols that communicate biblical truths to their own culture. The only useful aspect of this deep-rooted ancestral connection to the spiritual realm through the ngaka is to use it as an example of idolatry and darkness - a repentance item. A friend of mine that went to Africa and interviewed an African Christian pastor told me that the pastor grieved over the situation and summed the whole thing up by saying that step one is for Africans to admit that their ancestors were wrong.

This post was written shortly after I read this.