a few nights ago, i had the occasion to attend a lecture given by this year's recipient of the grawemeyer award in religion, george marsden of the university of notre dame. as a historian studying the religious, cultural, and social contexts of the united states, i admire marsden's work. to be fair, though, with the exception of his latest volume on jonathan edwards, which earned him the grawemeyer award, most of his historical scholarship has focused on periods later than those on which i concentrate. his biography of je, however, is a great book (evidenced by the many awards it has earned, not to mention the overwhelmingly positive reviews in many of the nation's most prestigious newspapers and magazines).
i really like george marsden. not only did he write the foreword for the salvation of souls, but he also spent several hours on the phone with me one evening as i was contemplating ph.d. programs. the advice he offered that night was very helpful as i filled out applications and, later, made my decision regarding the department that was best for me. furthermore, at the several conferences we have mutually attended in the last few years, he has remained gracious and enthusiastic about my work. he really is an outrageous christian scholar.
all that said, though, one answer marsden gave really irks me--an answer he is by no means alone in giving. an answer that deserves a pox. for the sake of context, his talk earlier this week, which i have heard at least once before, addressed his book by means of two questions. first, what was je's world like? and, second, what can be learned and appropriated from je? while his second question allowed him to wax spiritually about je's legacy for christians and the church, his first demanded that he talk a bit about the eighteenth-century climate of colonial new england and the english place in the world. thus, he painted a picture of a world fraught with controversy. controversy between protestants and catholics. controversy between french and english. controversy between english and native americans. and he set this context rather well, i must admit. one controversy that he omitted, however, was brought up by an elderly woman in the audience during the time set aside for questions. this presbtyerian lady, who had come to appreciate je while studying with richard and reinhold neibuhr (both big fans of je), wanted to know how marsden might address the fact that je owned africans as slaves--human property. marsden's reply, "edwards was a man of his times."
now, this explanation for a person's faults has always infuriated me. what does it mean exactly? what does it explain exactly? this answer is no answer. and any historian (theologian or philosopher) who falls back on such a reply is failing at his task. generally speaking, i usually hear this response from christian scholars hoping to defend their "heroes," which really grieves me. of all people, christian academes ought to grasp at least some of the effects of sin. effects that often show up in the areas that make people men and women of their times. why can't we say that? we can, even, should the situation not allow, without delving unnecessarily into theology and morality. what we must never say, though, is "he was a man of his times." as if that somehow lets him off the hook for his ethical failures. think about it. in his attitudes toward the ninevites, jonah was a man of his times. look where it got him. as a man of his times, peter had no desire to share the gospel with cornelius. but god convinced him otherwise. standing tall before an idol, shadrach, meshach, and abednego refused to be men of their times. for their faithfulness, they walked in the flames alongside the son of god.
after the lecture, i spoke briefly with the lady who asked the question, trying to explain a little more about issues of race and slavery in colonial new england (the subject of my dissertation and my last few publications and conference presentations). i also spoke with marsden and, after relating a bit of my conversation with her, he said, "it's simply such a complex subject." then, say that. at least that's an answer that opens the door for continued dialogue.
