Theologians don’t have to believe. Believers don’t have to practice theology. What seems obvious to me isn’t obvious everywhere. There are believers who think theologians are better believers. Quite a few theologians or Bible teachers believe they hold a special position that sets them above other believers. Of course, this does not apply to everyone, but some embrace their role with dedication and have developed a sense of identity that is more closely tied to this role and position than to their beliefs. This can become problematic.

The Professionalization of Faith

Faith can only be personal. Faith has absolutely nothing to do with a profession. There were times when the profession of “pastor” was promoted as if it were financially attractive. Anyone who wanted to make money was supposed to become a pastor. I also saw pastors who would have liked the security of a steady income, a 13th-month bonus, and fixed vacation times. Just a job, really. That’s neither good nor bad, but it reflects a certain mindset and—as I realized—also a certain set of expectations.

Whatever the reasons may have been for establishing this, there are several grounds for asking critical questions. And let me say right off the bat: this structure has nothing to do with faith. That doesn’t mean that a structure or institutionalization is wrong. Every gathering will, over time, become organized and institutionalized. That’s how things work in this world. One can view the structure as a neutral foundation for community. It becomes problematic when this structure takes on a life of its own. Then it becomes the church or the institution of the Free Church, which stands for certain positions, where expectations apply, and the functions of the institution are given high priority.

Institutionalization and everything associated with it are always a source of tension—if one follows the biblical narrative. Paul says, for example, regarding the composition of the church:

“Just look at your calling, brothers: there are not many who are wise by human standards, not many who are powerful, not many who are of noble birth; but God has chosen what is foolish in the world to put the wise to shame, and God has chosen what is weak in the world to put the strong to shame. God has chosen the lowly things of the world and the things it despises—yes, the things that are nothing—to nullify the things that are something, so that no flesh may boast before God.”
1 Cor. 1:26–29

Such statements do not condemn wisdom, wealth, high positions, or strength. There is no advantage to being weak in this world. On the contrary: It is advantageous to have plenty of money, to attain a certain status, and to build on that.

What this is about: It simply highlights a contrast. In the church, in contrast to the “world,” things work differently. This is not a rejection of wealth and power. Both are still recognized. However, in the church, neither has the same significance that they have in our society. In the church, some things work differently than in the “world” outside the community. That is why there is a contrast, which Paul points out here. However, this is not a rejection of wisdom, wealth, and other things, nor is it a rejection of institutions. After all, today’s structure serves a purpose. This does not mean the structure is sacrosanct; rather, it served a specific goal. Is this still relevant today, and in what way?

Here are a few examples: Paul, for instance, was a trained rabbi, taught by Gamaliel (Acts 5:34; Acts 22:3), the grandson of the famous Hillel the Elder. He was a theologian and had also acquired wisdom. Furthermore, he came from a distinguished Jewish lineage. He recognized that his lineage and education could bring him many advantages, but he consciously set all of that aside in light of his faith and trust (Phil 3:3–21). Likewise, Abram (later Abraham) was very wealthy (Gen 13:2). Wealth did not prevent him from becoming the “father of all who believe” (Rom 4:16)—that is, of both the circumcised and the uncircumcised. Abraham was not even a Jew or a Christian. His significance did not come from his ancestry, but from what he did.

What I’m getting at is this: The professionalization of faith has its advantages, but they do not lie in wealth and power. Those who focus on these things are merely building an institution and pursuing their own goals, not the congregation. What I’m further getting at is this: Today’s professionalization and the distinction between “preachers and laypeople” rely on a large, paying lower class from which the upper class profits. We are seeing with our own eyes how the churches are crumbling and that this system has no future. The question, therefore, is how we should move forward.

Church 2.0

This question is not new, and it is not the first time it has been asked on this website. We are in the midst of a period of upheaval. Reflecting on this is important to me and to many others because faith can only truly flourish within a community. We learn from and believe in one another, together—and quite often, for one another as well.

In this article, I’d like to focus on the religious communities of the future and how theology can play a supportive and formative role within them. I’d like to encourage reflection on this topic. The increasing professionalization of faith has created a situation that will likely soon become untenable in the Western world. It is no longer sustainable in terms of content (as evidenced by the exodus from the Church), and it will likely soon be unsustainable financially as well (as is widely recognized and is already the case in many places). In my view, anyone who tries to revive the old structures has already lost.

The “old” model of the church seems to be a thing of the past. I have previously referred to this model elsewhere as “Church 1.0.” I have no doubt that people will continue to have faith and want to learn from the Bible. However, the structure that supports this is changing. We are moving toward a new situation that we can call “Church 2.0.” Different relationships and interdependencies apply to this new structure.

I suspect that the current distinction between professionals and laypeople will have to be based on a different foundation. Perhaps it will be less hierarchical; perhaps there will also need to be different funding models; and—as in the old days—the professionals in the religious community will also pursue ordinary jobs to earn a living.

With the Church 1.0 structure, the following will happen:

• People will continue to leave (customers are walking away)
• There will be less money (with consequences for services, communities, and responsibilities)
• Municipalities will have to merge due to financial hardship
• Pastors and preachers will have to serve larger congregations
• Pastors and preachers will often have to preach several times on Sunday, at different locations
• The pressure to perform is increasing for professionals
• There is a risk that, in larger, sparsely populated areas, only a few functions and rituals will continue to be supported, while community and the development of faith fall by the wayside.

All in all: This is not a long-term solution. To put it in visual terms: The once-thriving village store is gradually closing down and being replaced by vending machines with a limited selection.

This development is nothing more than what happens every day in the economy. These are mechanisms that arise from the constraints of financial dependencies. A Church 2.0 must be able to free itself from these financial dependencies and old ways of thinking in order to conceive of new forms.

Before you can grasp and understand new things, you often have to let go of the old. If you’re active in a church or independent congregation today, you can try this as a thought experiment. Something like this: Imagine that the community consists only of believers, with no theologians, and that neither salaries nor other expenses need to be covered. The only things that matter are the shared faith, the shared trust in God, and the desire to build a new community based on them.

Here’s the crux of the matter: For this kind of new way of thinking, the familiar structure doesn’t have to serve as the solution. In fact, we should set aside the current structure for as long as possible. We shouldn’t do this because the structure is inherently flawed, but because the current problems with it have arisen in a changed environment. If we could start by focusing on needs—on the forms of community that people actually desire—rather than on traditional ideas, we could begin to think in new ways.

What might that look like? We recognize that the Bible serves a purpose, that we are all called by Christ, and that this naturally seeks expression in our lives. What does that mean? The next step is to ask ourselves what gifts and visions we have, and what the community needs. You can brainstorm these things together to arrive at the congregation’s very own vision. It helps to articulate such ideas so that a new picture gradually emerges.

Perhaps it will become clear that it isn’t all that easy to think in new ways. The pull of old ways of thinking will be strong. How can we avoid a return to “Church 1.0,” and what resources are needed for bold, forward-looking development?

Faith and Theology

Today, the term “theology” is largely equated with the profession of theologians. They do important and often highly valued work, for which they are sometimes handsomely compensated. In light of current developments, this profession will not be able to continue in the same way. When funding dries up, the structure falls apart. Suddenly, different skills will be in demand—a different kind of person who is willing to invest in the community and, for example, to cover part of their own living expenses.

Theology as an education that teaches people to engage with questions of life and faith in a nuanced way will, of course, remain important. However, the profession of “theologian” will likely change. Perhaps it will need to become more of a calling than a profession. Even today, there are an increasing number of theologians working outside the institutional churches. Under the umbrella of “public theology,” a growing group of theologians is working directly within society. They no longer need to belong to any church, nor are they on the payroll of any denominational or independent church.

The same requirements apply to those who have been “laypeople” up until now. Gone are the days when one could simply be a passive consumer, picking out the best parts for oneself and viewing community solely as the responsibility of the Church and the professionals (the “others”). Gone are the days when people “pretended to be the Church.” What will be crucial is the ability to “live out the Church actively and responsibly with others” and to envision what that might look like.

Some people can only imagine a “faith community” within a “proper” church building. They are attached to rituals and traditional structures. But what happens when these buildings and structures can no longer be maintained because there isn’t enough money? What then? How would one choose to practice one’s faith in that case?

Faith is not the same as theology. The church exists not because of theology, not because of theologians, but because of people who believe, seek, and ask questions. A congregation is first and foremost a community of people of faith. Faith, hopefully, can be lived out and shared by everyone. Theology is practiced by only a few. Theologians have a role to fulfill for the community. Exactly how that happens can be the subject of an honest discussion.

• How should we understand the (positive) transformation of the Church?
• What are the implications for existing structures?
• What might a religious community of the future look like?
• What role might theologians play in the future?
• What are the implications of these changes for believers and theologians?
• What is the purpose of a religious community?

Question after question! We should establish key points and move forward while asking questions. Being a Christian, for example, can only be linked to Christ. Without this connection, it is no longer being a Christian. Logically, one can only draw an understanding of who Christ is from the Bible, or one must settle for a completely different definition. Here, too, one must consciously establish the cornerstones. The taken-for-granted nature of these references, their interpretation, and the resulting systems of faith will likely be called into question again and again in the future. New faith communities (Church 2.0) will develop from different paradigms. What are these, and how can we conceive of them, design them, and shape them together?

The difference between theology and faith is significant. They may go hand in hand. How these concepts take shape in times of upheaval and in light of a new kind of faith community is a task we can only contemplate in the here and now.