As part of creating space online for ongoing Pub Theology conversation, I’m considering a new Facebook group. This will be for pub theologians everywhere to gather at a virtual table, to discuss any number of topics. Vote on the Facebook page with your thoughts. If you think I should consider something other than Facebook, let me know that in the comments.
I’m in the process of creating a new Pub Theology website, so ideally whatever I create can be embedded and accessed there.
Since I consume both of these beverages in large quantities, it was nice to see what I’ve gotten myself into! Thought I would share this essential knowledge with all of you. Enjoy.
To new and old readers of this blog, to those who I’ve been able to lift a pint with, and to those gathering everywhere to enjoy a good brew and engage in thoughtful discussion, here’s to 2013! It was a good year! Cheers.
YEAR-END GIVEAWAY – I’m giving away a signed copy of Pub Theology along with a $25 gift certificate to your favorite brewery. Entry details below. (Winner, drawn on Jan 4 2014 is: DIANE McGRATH from Abington, PA! She entered via Facebook. Results via randomresult.com)
Pub Theology Official Directory: A listing of all Pub Theology and Theology on Tap style gatherings in the United States. There are over 130 groups listed here and more are being added every week. Know of a group that’s not listed? Post it in the comments below! It’s really great to hear from folks all over the country who are being intentional about cultivating an ongoing conversation in their community about matters of life, philosophy, and faith.
A Rabbi, a Priest and a Minister Walk Into a Bar – at both Philly Beer Week and DC Beer Week, I was privileged to join Rabbi Eli Freedman and Father Kirk Berlenbach for conversational sessions in which each of us discussed the role of craft beer in our faith communities. Both events drew packed houses and generated considerable buzz as unusual offerings on the usual slate of beer week events. Look for us at a beer week near you in 2014!
You’ll see a few saisons on the list this year as my palate expanded to enjoy more farmhouse and Belgian style beers.
10) Monkey King Saison (New Holland Brewing) – A soft, medium body saison with subtle pepper character and fruity undertones.
9) El Hefe Speaks! (DC Brau) – a traditionally brewed German-style Hefe. It is fermented around 65°F and hopped with German Tettnang hops. 11 IBUs and 5.3% ABV make this one extremely drinkable. One of three local DC beers to make my top ten.
8) ESA (Yards) – East Kent Golding hops give this English style ale a subtle spiciness, which compliments its strong malt backbone. Hints of chocolate and caramel round out this deep chestnut colored ale. Floral, earthy, smooth. A cask-conditioned wonder that is a staple of Yards in Philadelphia. I enjoyed this one at a small bar served via the hand-pull from the cask. Smooth and delightful.
7) Peppercorn Saison (3 Star Brewing) – Belgian style farmhouse ale. Slightly sweet fruity nose, hints of grass and coriander, smooth underlying bitterness, clean dry finish, smooth lingering citrus notes. A local DC offering.
6) La Saison Des Fêtes (Atlas Brew Works) – A warming winter Belgian ale straight from the farmhouse to your fireside. The third saison to make the list, and the third DC brewed offering from one of the District’s newest breweries.
5) Stone Ruination IPA (Stone Brewing) – an extra-large helping of malt, and a lot more hops. And then some more. And then even more, resulting in a vibrant blast of citrusy bitterness that hits you on the first sip. Just one taste and you’ll know why it says on the bottle: “A liquid poem to the glory of the hop!”
4) Boxcarr Pumpkin Porter (Starr Hill) – a traditional English-style Brown Porter with pumpkin added to the mash. Light spicing allows the subtle flavors of pumpkin and roasty porter to shine through. Boxcarr is a session beer at 4.7% and very drinkable. This was my go-to beer this fall.
3) Three Philosophers (Ommegang) – A beer made for contemplation. Aroma a sweet and heady mixture of rich toffee, floral tobacco, vanilla bourbon, and brown spices. Very sweet smell but there’s a little bitter grain to provide balance. Palate is all rich sweet malts, dark fruits, and spice, minimal toast or roast. Milk chocolate, dates, nutmeg and clove, vanilla cream, a little banana, and licorice toffee with a semi-chewy, buttery mouthfeel. A small amount of ale brewed with Belgian kriek cherries imparts a subtle red fruit acidity from start to finish. Low to moderate carbonation. A very nice Belgian-style quad with a lot of complexity and character. And much gratitude to Ommegang for sponsoring our DC Beer Week event!
2) Parabola Russian Imperial Stout (Firestone Walker) – Bold bourbon, tobacco and espresso aromas and a hint of American oak greet the nose. Rich, chewy roasted malts, charred oak and bourbon-like vanilla fill the palate and create a seamless finish. A remarkably complex brew that—according to the brewers—offers a transcendental drinking experience. I enjoyed this at Smoke & Barrel tap takeover during DC Beer Week.
1) Indian Brown Ale (Dogfishhead) – A cross between a Scotch Ale, an India Pale Ale and an American Brown, Indian Brown Ale is well-hopped and malty at the same time (It’s magical!). This made my top ten last year, and this year moves up to no.1! A beer worthy of any top listing.
10) Tomorrow’s Theology. Today’s Task. – My response to a controversial article in The Banner.
9) “No, Donny, these men are nihilists.” – This 2011 post on the roots of rapturous nihilism continues to be popular. The end of the world viewed through the lens of The Big Lebowski.
8) Apology NOT Accepted – A Lutheran pastor is forced to apologize for praying at an interfaith prayer service. I refused the apology.
7) Jesus in the Desert: A Midrash? – Jesus encounters Satan in the desert. History, parable, or midrash?
6) God Doesn’t Need Our Help, But He Asks For It – James K.A. Smith says there is a “new apologetics” afoot in Christianity to make the faith more palatable in an age of intellectualism and postmodernity. He’s wrong.
5) Why Conservative Churches Attract Young People… Or Not – You get the idea.
4) Religion May Not Survive the Internet, Then Again… It Might – Some are saying religion is going to be vaporized by this thing called the ‘internet’. I say not so fast.
3) Noah and the Violence of God – Debate: who is more violent – God or Russell Crowe? [Trailer included]
2) A New Convergence – There are shifts happening within broader Christianity… whether one likes it or not. This 2012 article is the most popular post ever at pubtheologian.com.
1) Show Up or Else: the So-Called Scandal of the Semi-Churched – A controversial post (from just a couple weeks ago!) where I take a pastor to task for chastising his congregation (and every Christian) for inadequate church attendance.
1) Practicing Theology Without a Net: Theology Pubs, Spiritual Direction, and Letting Go – This fantastic article by Keith Anderson was featured on WordPress’ Freshly Pressed. A great read.
2) 10 Things You Can’t Do at Christmas While Following Jesus – Mark Sandlin’s piece got a lot of attention this Christmas. Deservedly so.
FICTION
5) Walden Two (B.F. Skinner) – This fictional outline of a modern Utopia has been a centre of controversy ever since its publication in 1948. An interesting read if you’re interested in sociology, community, and attempts at ‘getting it right’.
4) Schrödinger’s Gat (Robert Kroese) – A quantum physics thriller. If you like having your mind bent by science and philosophy (who doesn’t?) while reading an engaging story, read this book! ($2.99 for Kindle)
3) To An Unknown God (John Steinbeck) – A mystical tale, exploring one man’s attempt to control the forces of nature and to understand the ways of God. Steinbeck once again captivates.
2) A Being Darkly Wise (John Atchison) – Every once in a while you find a book that knocks your socks off. “A Being Darkly Wise” is such a book. A group of Washington bureaucrats go on a wilderness training led by a mysterious, charismatic activist/scientist. As the story progresses they begin to realize how estranged they have become from the earth we inhabit. ($3.99 for Kindle)
1) 11/22/63 (Stephen King) – My favorite read this year, and timely with the 50th anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. If you could go back in time, would you change anything? Captivating read, and really great story-telling. I couldn’t put it down.
Thanks for reading, everyone! Don’t forget to enter the year-end giveaway!
Here’s how to enter:
1) Share this post on social media (FB, Twitter, Google+).
2) Like my author page or invite your friends to like my author page.
3) Like this post with your WordPress account.
4) Share your favorite beer or favorite book (or both!) from the past year in the comments below.
5) Follow me and/or Pub Theology on Twitter: @bryberg and @pubtheology
GO!
You can enter multiple times by doing each of the above. Must enter by 1/1/2014. Drawing on Jan 2. Good luck!
Congratulations to
Guest post by Keith Anderson, pastor at Upper Dublin Lutheran Church near Philadelphia and co-author with Elizabeth Drescher of Click2Save: The Digital Ministry Bible (Morehouse 2012). This post originally appeared on Keith’s blog.
LATELY, I’VE BEEN practicing a lot of what I have been thinking of as theology without a net.
Theology without a net happens in public spaces. It does not involve a presentation, PowerPoint slides, or a written text. It does not rely on the expert knowledge of professional ministry-types.
It does not offer or promise neat answers. It is an ongoing conversation, which is shaped by whoever shows up that day. It is responsive, not leading. It listens more than speaks. And it has to be authentic. It lives at the intersection of faith and life.
This is different from how I was trained to do theology. Theology happened controlled environments: in church or academic buildings, classes, and worship, with subject matter experts (pastors and professors), who were training me to become one too. And, hey, I loved it. I absorbed it. I got good at it.
But the world we live in demands that we do theology in a different way, on-the-fly, in different places, with different people, on someone else’s turf: theology without a net.
In his very helpful book Pub Theology: Beer, Conversation, and God, which has applications far beyond just running a Theology Pub night, Bryan Berghoef writes that a friend posed the question,
“‘How come you Christians never participative in things you can’t control?'” He says, “Ouch. Great question. We have a very hard time with letting go—with allowing truly open-ended conversation that doesn’t lead twoard a nicely wrapped ending with a gospel presentation of some sort.” “Having a truly open forum is something most Christians are afraid to do, because we want control.”
This is so true and I see it in myself. While I love our theology pub, God on Tap, I recognize that its absolutely a cutting edge for me—to simply serve as the convener: to pick a sufficiently broad topic, introduce it in a blog post and as I welcome people in, and then throw it open and see where it leads, occasionally bringing us back when we’ve strayed far off-topic, and lifting up voices from around the room. This, more than preaching or teaching, calls me to trust in the Holy Spirit and trust others and recognize that they are the experts—about their lives, ideas, and faith.
In this way, hosting God on Tap is much more like serving as a Spiritual Director than a preacher or teacher. (If you’re interested in spiritual direction check out the Shalem Institute, where I received my training in spiritual direction.)
Spiritual directors listen for God in what is being shared. They hold the space (the physical environment and the time) for the group. They observe the ebbs and flows of the group dynamics and trust that among those gathered, the Spirit is working, that God has something to say. As a spiritual director, I reflect back the common threads running through the conversation. I try to remember that the Spirit is the one doing the directing. And I trust that people will come away with what was intended, whatever that was, and its often a new way of perceiving one’s life and spiritual journey.
It doesn’t control. It creates the space for something to happen.
Berghoef writes of his theology pub gatherings,
“Our goal was not to create a program that we run where we give our perspective and then allow questions, time permitting. From the outset we wanted to make sure that this was not going to be a ‘setup.’ In other words, get people in the door, ‘pretend’ to have a conversation, then hit them up for a gospel presentation. Rather, we wanted to allow anyone and everyone to come and give their perspective. To share their story. To unload their baggage about religion, about faith, about God. To have a group that is willing to listen without judgment, to accept without demanding conformity, to simply embrace them as another human being, which is to say, a person with yearnings that some would call spiritual or religious or, as my humanist friends might say, wonder and awe at the universe.”
Doing theology without a net requires letting go of our need for control. God is present and that is enough.
The reason this works, I think, is that it comes from an authentic place. It says, “I don’t have all the answers. I wonder and question too.” It levels with people. It breaks down our pastoral pretense and this can be a great gift to ministry leaders and those they serve.
I’m currently trying to rely less on a script when I preach. And I notice that to tell a personal or Biblical story without a script requires that those stories are more integrated into my mind and heart. They must come from a more authentic and integrated place within me.
Likewise when we ditch the script at the pub, the coffee shop, or in digital social networks, and ask, respond, wonder, and pray along with and alongside others, we relate from a place of authenticity. Its not just functional. Its relational. Its real.
As Berghoef writes, its “the difference between an indoctrination approach to faith (where the focus is on getting it right) and an exploration approach to faith (where the goal is to experience God in a way that is life-affirming, gracious, and for the good of those around us)….”
Are you practicing theology without a net? How’s it going? What learnings have emerged for you?
photo credit: Dyan Lawlor
TONIGHT at our regular Pub Theology DC gathering, we’ll be LIVE TWEETING – you can join us in person, at the Bier Baron at 1523 22nd St NW – just a few blocks west of the Dupont Circle Metro stop, or you can jump in on the conversation via Twitter using #pubtheology. Be sure to follow me (@bryberg) and (@pubtheology). Here are the topics we’ll be discussing:
If you could name the street you live on what would you call it?
If you received an extra burrito when ordering at your local shop would you say something?
True or false: We should be wary of any efforts to improve human nature.
Did you march on Saturday? Are you marching tomorrow? Does marching lead to justice?
Did Jesus pay for our sins? In what way?
WE’D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU! Come on down and join us for a pint, or grab your smart phone, a craft-brewed pint, and hit the Twitters! Starting at 7pm.
We loaded the kids, our mammoth tent, and some food (and beer!) into the van last Thursday and headed off to the hills of North Carolina. We were ready to hit the third annual Wild Goose Festival.We arrived at Hot Springs, NC to discover puddles, mud and —smiles. Hundreds of people setting up camp, giving directions, prepping stages and venues, setting up craft booths, plucking guitar strings, and more. Despite the deluge of rain the night before, and the forecasted rain (which did come), the Goose would go on.
After setting up camp, the kids discovered some friends they had met at the event last year, and my wife Christy and I headed off to our first event: A Darkwood Brew Unplugged conversation between the Darkwood Brewmaster himself, Eric Elnes, and writer and speaker Frank Schaeffer. The open conversation about the mysteries of faith, and the urgency of getting real about issues that affect our world reminded me that I was in the right place. “Certainty gets in the way of truth,” Frank would say more than once, to my internal amen. “When we’re certain about God, certain about what it means to be spiritual, certain about our theological and doctrinal systems, we close ourselves off from the larger spiritual truths that there are to be gained.”
He would go on to note that we grow by discovery, by being wrong, by re-thinking – and that this is true in nearly every facet of life. Can it be so different when it comes to God? About halfway through the session, Frank shared his own keys to living a meaningful life: “Create beauty, give love, and find peace.” Those gathered under the tent murmured and smiled in agreement. “If you do these three things — and I mean anyone, regardless of their religious affiliation or commitments— if you do these three things, you’ll look back and be content with how you lived your life. If you ignore these things, you’ll regret it.”
Create beauty. Give love. Find peace.
Before the session ended, my two youngest kids were growing restless and were ready for bed. We walked back to the tent as the sky darkened and rain threatened, passing many other festival-goers on the way. I rounded up our two oldest boys, who had been speeding through mud puddles on their bikes, and we all got ready for bed. The rain hit right after we all snuggled in our sleeping bags, which was exactly the time that the main musical act for the evening got started. Our tent was about thirty or forty yards from the main stage, and when Speech from Arrested Development began his show, the speakers were booming and the show was on. My three youngest passed out (thank you, God!) to the hip-hop beat, while my oldest son Henry and I enjoyed the show from the dryness of the tent, mildly envying those jumping up and down in the rain in the front row.
The show reached a fever pitch when he performed Arrested Development’s most well-known song, Tennessee:
Lord I’ve really been real stressed
Down and out, losin ground
Although I am black and proud
Problems got me pessimistic
Brothers and sisters keep messin up
Why does it have to be so damn tuff?
I don’t know where I can go
To let these ghosts out of my skull
My grandmas past, my brothers gone
I never at once felt so alone
I know you’re supposed to be my steering wheel
Not just my spare tire (home)
But Lord I ask you (home)
To be my guiding force and truth (home)
For some strange reason it had to be (home)
He guided me to Tennessee (home)
Take me to another place
Take me to another land
Make me forget all that hurts me
Let me understand your plan
The themes of this song and another hit, Mr. Wendal, about a homeless man, touched many of us as we saw the spiritual side of Speech, who would articulate more of his spiritual background and inspiration in an interview with Krista Tippett the next day.
Even as I went to bed early that night, the days to follow would include catching up with a number of friends, making plenty of new ones, and attending sessions on non-violence, the environment, racism, the arts, and much more. I’d get to hug and embrace former friends and congregants of the church I led for nearly seven years in Michigan.
We’d delight in the poetry (and grilling!) of Mike Stavlund, Michael Toy, and Troy Bronsink, I’d share with contemplative-minded folks the resources of the Shalem Institute, reconnect with Mark and Lisa Scandrette (who are as delightful as ever!), have a beer with Frank Schaeffer and Richard Cizik, a conversation with Brian McLaren in the rain, a walk in the sunshine with Phyllis Tickle, and—a definite highlight—I’d get to meet Krista Tippett and share just how much her show Speaking of Faith and now onBeing have meant to my own journey. Perhaps best of all would be seeing the smiles on my kids’ faces each day as they ran, biked, splashed, played and laughed, even—or perhaps especially—when covered in mud and rain.
Late nights would follow as I would run into Rich McCullen, Tripp Fuller, and Trey Pearson of Everyday Sunday late Friday night – and we’d laugh about music, sermons, and having one too many beers (in theory). Saturday night seemed to never end after the delightful experience of the Indigo Girls performing up close (this deserves a whole ‘nother post!), deep conversation (and a few hymns) over beers later with fellow pub theologians Kirk Berlenbach and Michael Camp, and I would even manage to sell a few copies of my book Pub Theology at the beer pavilion (somehow easier to sell the later the night went).
On this first early night, however, as I fell asleep to the sounds of Speech lighting up the crowd and filling up the night with his rhythm and rhymes, all this was yet to come—nearly two thousand of us gathered in the Carolina hills—ready to create beauty, find love, and give peace.
Now I see the importance of history
Why people be in the mess that they be
Many journeys to freedom made in vain
By brothers on the corner playin ghetto games
I ask you Lord why you enlightened me
Without the enlightenment of all my folks
He said cuz I set myself on a quest for truth
And he was there to quench my thirst
But I am still thirsty…
The rain continued to land softly on the tent, rolling off the rainfly like so much water off a goose’s back.
—-
Bryan Berghoef writes and tweets from the nation’s capital, and is the author of Pub Theology: Beer, Conversation, and God. He insists that good things happen when we sit around the table together and talk about things that matter.
Guest post by Fr. Kirk Berlenbach, rector of St. Timothy’s Episcopal Church in the Roxborough neighborhood of Philadelphia. He has been facilitating the parish beer club (The Franklin Club) since 2007. Originally posted at So This Priest Walks Into a Bar.
WASHINGTON DC – One of the great things about the internet is that, no matter how obscure your interest or hobby, the net allows you the chance to seek out and connect with other people who are just as off kilter. When I began to take this whole faith and beer thing more seriously one of the first things I tried to do was see who else out there might be doing it too. I was pleased to find I was not alone in the universe. I came across and have since corresponded with a couple of kindred souls.
Among them are guys like Michael Camp, author of Confessions of a Bible Thumper: My Homebrewed Quest for a Reasoned Faith, which is next up on my reading list. Another book on the subject is Diary of a Part Time Monk by J. Wilson which I just finished reading. I referenced J’s quest to emulate the monks of old in this post. In short, he attempted to follow the Lenten discipline of monks who fasted existing only on their dopplebock. The book is his account of this remarkable experience.
Then there is Bryan Berghoef. When I finished reading his book, Pub Theology, I knew we had to at least correspond. We hit it off and found we had a lot in common, not just in terms of our love of beer but also in terms of our approach to ministry and the Church’s need to find new ways to connect with the ever increasing “spiritual but not religious” population. We discussed the idea of a visit but never got around to making specific plans.
Then, a few months ago I got the bright idea to do an event on the whole “beer-faith connection” as part of this year’s Philly Beer Week. (more on this in next week’s post). Anyway, when I was thinking through other clergy who could work with me on this event, Bryan was on the short list. I contacted him and he was very excited at the possibility. But I thought it was important to meet the man I was going to work with. Moreover, I wanted to see an example of one of his “Pub Theology” sessions up close and personal.
So last week I took the train down to DC. Bryan met me at the station and we headed off to the pub where that night’s conversation would take place. The whole concept of Pub Theology is “Beer, Conversation, God.” The gathering is open to anyone who wishes to attend and the topics are sent out a few days ahead of time. On the heels of the massive Oklahoma tornado the topic included God’s role in natural disasters, as well as more abstract topics like, “Was there a time before time?” and “Scientists say dark matter is inferred, not seen. Can you call that faith?”
We talked over burgers and beers and then made our way to the back part of the bar to wait and see who would show up. Over time the group grew to a very respectable 15 people. Many were members of Bryan’s new church planting project, Roots DC. Others were visitors and one was a local clergy colleague. People’s perspectives varied, greatly (and thanks to the presence of a young woman from South Sudan, also went beyond just an American lens) and at least one person was by openly an atheist.
As the conversation progressed and folks ordered their 2nd or third beer, people definitely became more vocal. Yet a no time was there a hint of disrespect or even frustration.
What Bryan has built here is no small accomplishment. To create an environment where people, many of whom are strangers, can speak openly and honestly about the deeper issues of life is quite extraordinary. As I have reflected on this I began to see the genius of Bryan’s concept. While such a group could take place over coffee or in a park, the setting of the bar is really critical to its success.
Where else but in a bar can friends, acquaintances and strangers all engage impassioned debate yet still remain not just civil but even jovial? Now it is true that often times those debates are about how the manager is mishandling the bullpen and not dark matter. But there are many times I have heard focused discussion about politics, God and the meaning of life coming from the other end of the bar or the next table.
It seems to me that if the bar is indeed the new Forum, then Bryan has indeed hit upon a valuable insight into how the Church can connect with the world outside its walls. The key lies first in a willingness to go out to where the people are rather than insisting that they come to us. But just as important is the setting. In order to get people talking about what they really believe about God and what truly matters in life, then you can’t do much better than your local pub. And, at least in my opinion, the best way to start any meaningful conversation is over a good pint.
So here’s to Bryan and Pub Theology and the rediscovery of a great way to talk about God and all things that matter most.
—
You can read Kirk’s latest thoughts at So This Priest Walks Into a Bar: Beer, Music, and a Thirst for God, or find him enjoying a craft beer somewhere in Philadelphia.
My book, Pub Theology, has been out for about six months now. I have heard from readers all over, nearly all of whom have really enjoyed the book. The reviews on Amazon are all positive. The Goodreads ratings are great. This is a bit surprising to me, as I expected a certain amount of push back from readers. Perhaps they have been biding their time. A disappointed reader recently responded to the feature review of Pub Theology posted at the Englewood Review of Books.
Check out this response from Alex:
I am nearly finished with Berghoef’s work, which I had high hopes for. I appreciate points of your review, but I have to say that I do disagree about some of Berghoef’s intentions. If it were merely a monograph to discuss active listening in interfaith settings, I would be all ears. But within that framework he exposes that he is not a Christian living in a pluralistic world, he is a pluralist. I don’t say this with disrespect but in recognition that he is seeking to shed the “exclusitivity” of fundamentalism and traditional Christianity while learning what it means to “climb to the top of the mountain” of understanding and knowing God, asserting
that multiple faiths can be incorporated into Christianity without any taking priority. (See his illustration of the telescope for an example). In establishing pub theology, he is also seeking to deconstruct Christian theology into a more cultural friendly model. I admittedly am frustrated with what you call his “whimsical” approaches to these gatherings. I too believe that there needs to be real listening and understanding, but I would not go so far as to say that this negates some central tenets to my own faith. I think that I can still be an “orthodox” Christian while also dialoguing with other faiths. From Berghoef’s Reformed background, he seems to posit the rigidness and fear of that upbringing as something that all people universally experience with tradtional (sic) Christianity. I would say that his context is dictating his views of others’ experience with the church in a way that molds his book. Maybe I am not progressive enough, but I don’t see religious pluralism as the necessary next step for Christianity, remembering that Jesus calls Himself the “way, truth, and the life.” The trouble I have with this multi-faith approach to God is that many of the faiths mentioned, at least in their primary Scriptures, see themselves as the sole route to God. To omit this is to in some way neglect what is a central part of the different faiths represented, and it’s a naive approach to interfaith dialogue.
These are just some of my relatively disjointed thoughts, but I’ve been wrestling with this book and needed to get them out.
Alright. There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it? If you’ve read the book, I’d be interested in your thoughts about the above. If you haven’t read the book… what are you waiting for? (Spend $10 of your Christmas cash and start reading now on your Kindle).
I actually really appreciate where Alex is coming from. I’ve encountered others who have had the same frustration. I expected more people would have this same concern, and probably they do, but for whatever reason haven’t voiced it. But that very frustration highlights to me why the book (and the gatherings) are needed! Too often Christians can only contemplate a space in which they are allowed to have the final say, they are allowed to ‘be right,’ and the forum which purports to be an open dialogue really masks for the latest in a clever church outreach attempt. People should be treated like adults. We shouldn’t need to try to con anyone, by attempting to ‘be relevant’ and hang out at the pub, while secretly just waiting to do our evangelistic duty, all the while despising pubs and beer and anyone who wonders if God actually exists. We shouldn’t say we’re having a conversation where all are welcome at the table and there’s no requirement for any particular faith, and then turn around and make it into a Bible study or recruitment session for a particular church. A true open space will be divested of hidden motives to convert. A true open space will allow for anyone present to have the floor, and even, the final say. If we really trust in the Holy Spirit’s ability to work, we should never have to resort to manipulative tactics.
Further, a true open space will also require its attendants to be honest. And, yes, this will lead to disagreements. There will be times where I, as a Christian, flat out disagree with a Muslim, or an atheist, or a Buddhist, about some central issues! I find God most fully revealed in the person of Jesus. I don’t expect a Muslim or Jew to agree about this. And the book notes that disagreements will occur – and even highlights this with some actual pub theology dialogue. (I actually think much of Alex’s concerns are addressed in the book, but then I often don’t land where he wants me to, hence the frustration).
Here is how I responded to him:
Hi Alex-
Glad to hear you are reading the book, and I share your high hopes for it. 🙂 I entirely appreciate your comments and your frustrations, and am glad you posted them. Also, before I forget, I’ve spent significant time in evangelical settings, so I think I have a fair grasp of (and to an extent have been shaped by) this perspective as well.
The book is meant to draw us into a setting of conversations where we actually do encounter others. Part of that requires at least sitting down to the table as a “pluralist,” in the minimal sense of: I believe all people are created in God’s image and have something to teach me. This does not necessarily mean everyone is right, or all paths lead to God, or anything of the sort. At that point you’re reading into what I’m saying (or not saying). I’m pretty sure I don’t make any claims in the book as to people’s eternal destinies. (Though I do hope and trust that God’s grace and mercy are much wider than I can imagine).
When discussions happen with people of various (and often competing) worldviews, there are going to be disagreements. Yes. Absolutely. Perhaps I could have articulated this more strongly in the book (though I think it is evident in some of the pub anecdotes and elsewhere). There have often been evenings at the pub where I have, as a Christian, flat out disagreed with people over important issues. An honest discussion demands this.
However, the point of the book is not to give an exposition of my own theology (though it arises at points), but rather to encourage the setting in which true and good dialogue can happen, and indicate ways in which one’s own faith or perspective (regardless of which kind), can be broadened.
I intentionally don’t show all of my cards, or even give the hoped for “But you’re going to tell everyone Jesus is the only way to God, right?”, because I want people to live in the tension. The tension of true interfaith connection, in which we hold the possibility (even if we don’t embrace it), that “the other” may well be right, and we are the ones who need to learn. As I note in the introduction, for too long the church has taken the place of preacher and teacher, and perhaps it is our turn to listen. Your comments indicate the discomfort that arises with such tension. You want to enter such discussions, not really to learn, but with the safe knowledge that you are right, and anticipating the moment you can share that. (Ironically, we Christians often come to such discussions hoping others will be open to our perspectives, while having no intention of being open to theirs).
You may not be in a place where you have something to learn from others, which perhaps might indicate your frustration with the book, and that’s fine. But many, many others have found the book to be a welcome volume which allows their own doubts, questions, and answers to be honestly wrestled with.
The book is not a defense of the Christian faith, or any other faith, though I write it as a Christian. It is simply one person’s experience of engaging others, and realizing that our world will be a better place if we can all sit down together and talk, instead of dismissing each other from our own safe enclaves.
I have no grand project of converting others at Pub Theology, except to this: to be a better person — one who loves more fully, questions more broadly, listens more intently, and hopes more strongly. I trust that at the end of the day, God’s purposes will happen, and the truth will win out.
As Augustine put it: “The truth is like a lion. You don’t have to defend it. Let it loose. It will defend itself.”
God doesn’t need me to sit at the pub and tell everyone they’re wrong if they don’t believe a particular (often, narrow) version of Christianity. He needs me to create a space of hospitality, where all are received and welcome, and where his very way is incarnated and on display. Where saints and sinners are equals. And occasionally [in fact, often!], yes, I tell people about Jesus.
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What do you think? Is Pub Theology a ‘naive approach to interfaith dialogue’? Or is it a needed shift toward creating true spaces of connection in our communities?
Let me preface this review with the fact that I am by no means a Christian, nor a non-believer. A skeptic at heart, I came into the book and the concept of Pub Theology warily. I had never heard of Pub Theology or even met Bryan, but the book found me by chance.
That being said, it was a delightful read. He’s wise beyond his years and brings us a message of love, understanding, and openness. Do not let the word ‘theology’ turn you off – it’s relevant life-enriching information no matter your belief system. Whether you come into this as a veteran on the subject or as a fresh mind, you’ll find value. Worst-case scenario it’s a fun read on an interesting subject and a wonderful refresher. Best-case, you’re going to start seeing things differently and come away with some very useful information.
I was invited to and attended a Pub Theology event while in midst of the book. If you have the opportunity to visit one, do not miss the chance.
A Book Review of Pub Theology by Matthew Goode
While I was an undergrad Religious Studies major at a state university, I had some of the best interfaith conversations of my life… at the bar. Our regular group consisted of an atheist, a Wiccan, a Catholic, and a Methodist (me). There were others from the department who would join us at times. This group was informal, formed quite organically, and was the setting of some of the most rewarding theological and philosophical conversations I ever had. Then something happened. I went to seminary. Although I continued having theological and philosophical conversations at the bar, they were mostly with other Christians. Now I am a pastor, and my conversations have become even more limited.
Bryan Berghoef has both invited and challenged me to return to the bar and to the transformational conversations that happen when we gather with folks who are different from us. “Pub Theology” is an insightful yet approachable blend of personal narrative, community narrative, theology, and, oh yeah… beer. Bryan’s honesty about his own journey and the risk of denominational disapproval should be an encouragement to all pastors who feel that they are hiding part of themselves in order to fit within the system. Bryan stepped out in faith, not to do something new and cool, but instead to authentically express the ways that God was calling him to be in community and conversation with others.
“Pub Theology” is not a how-to book for the next cool new fad in church outreach. “Pub Theology” is not necessarily even new or cool. Instead, “Pub Theology” is an authentic expression of the very old idea of coming together around the table in community with others. Deep conversations in pubs have existed as long as pubs have. When people are in a comfortable setting (with good beer) they feel free to let their guard down and be vulnerable with each other. That vulnerability opens up deep spaces where deep transformation can happen.
Make no mistake, Bryan has not written a whimsical proposal about how much fun it would be to talk about God over a beer. “Pub Theology” marries the experience of a community with deep theological thought. Bryan turns to minds like Jack Caputo and Peter Rollins (two of my inspirations), and presents their ideas in an approachable manner without watering them down. This book is a very pleasant read that has deep and complex flavors for the more discerning palate. Perhaps this is coincidence, or perhaps it is the author’s intention to have his book evoke the feeling of drinking a great beer.
I raise my glass to Bryan Berghoef and “Pub Theology” for inviting, challenging, and encouraging me to return the types of conversations that God is calling all of us to participate in.
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» Pub Theology is available in paperback or for Kindle at Amazon.com.