Lutheran Theory Blindness

Blinded by theory--it is a common condition among all serious thinkers. Thomas Kuhn described it a length in his 1962 book, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. He demonstrated our tendency to be paralyzed by our paradigms. On the one hand, we see what we expect to see. Jerome Bruner and Leo Postman demonstrated this with such elegance in their "Red Spades" experiments as reported in their 1949 paper entitled "On the Perception of Incongruity: A Paradigm." If we expect to see something, we will have great difficulty seeing anything else.

This is not a matter of conscious stubbornness or the marvelous and nearly infinite human capacity to be obtuse. It is a matter of our perceptual wiring. Our biases are built in at the neurological level. We overcome our blind spots only with great effort. Our tendency toward blind spots is increased by our need to focus on a limited set of information. 

Most of us are familiar, for example, with the "Invisible Gorilla" experiment and accompanying book. It's great fun to return to that experiment periodically and see what new surprises the researchers have added. Once we see the incongruous feature in the video, we can't un-see it. However, that does not prepare us at all for the next unexpected addition. We see what we expect. We process a limited amount of information at a time.

Our theories equip us to see what the theory predicts. When we are challenged to see more, we struggle. And sometimes we simply don't see.

Another feature of theory blindness is the "ubiquitous hammer" problem. If the only tool you have is a hammer, then everything is a nail. Conversely, if driving a nail is the identified problem, then every tool becomes a hammer. So the theories of life we find most familiar and comfortable will be applied to any and every situation, and the solutions will be deformed to fit the theory.

That's how I experience much of orthodox Lutheran theology. The problem is human guilt produced by sin. That problem results in pride as expressed in works righteousness. The solution is to confess our helpless unworthiness and to give thanks that all we have is through God's grace in Jesus, the Messiah. For many in the Lutheran tribe, this ubiquitous theological hammer drives every existential nail.

So our Lutheran toolbox seems remarkably out of touch with many of the existential issues people face. The problem for most is not guilt but rather shame. That's not a problem of what I do. It's a problem with who I am. It is no wonder that the work, for example, of Brene Brown resonates with people far more these days than the Small Catechism. 

Coupled with our shame struggles is the search for meaning and purpose. If our theological hammer focuses on works righteousness, then we can't figure this one out. Our desire to make a difference in the world will be framed as an exercise in prideful accomplishment. Lutheran orthodoxy struggles terribly to make out a positive case for works of love. But people today want their church to make a difference in the world, not just to salve their troubled consciences.

And theory blindness, as Daniel Kahneman points out, makes it "extraordinarily difficult to notice its flaws" (Thinking, Fast and Slow, page 276). Much of our Lutheran orthodox theory is rooted in the Doctrine of Penal Substitutionary Atonement, as proposed by St. Anselm. Luther himself much preferred a "victory" model of the atonement rather than a "victim" model. Aulen's Christus Victor remains the best description of the case.

But theory blindness ties many Lutherans to the "victim" model of Jesus' cross and resurrection. This model relies on guilt as motivation and scapegoating as the solution. I believe this perspective underlies the current flight of many Christians of good heart and conscience from churches that cannot see past their own theories.

It is time to add something besides a hammer to our Lutheran toolboxes. How about a servant's towel?