When I was growing up in church, I learned that what we believed was certain, so much so that we wondered how it was that anyone could doubt. This was so ingrained in my thinking that I recall reacting with shock when I read that evangelical Christianity, the kind that had shaped me, fell into the category of subjective religion. How could this be so? Subjective religion was the kind that relied on experience, such as Pentecostal Christianity. Speaking in tongues was experiential, but surely not the family of Christianity I inhabited!

I have come to realize since then that the difference between Pentecostal Christianity, for example, and the evangelical tradition I know well is not the difference between Christian faith that is experiential and that which is not. Rather, it is the difference between one kind of experience and another.

This raises the question: What role does experience play in Christian theology, and in Christian spirituality? I have become convinced that experience is a necessary part of Christian spirituality – that is, lived Christian discipleship. Experience occupies a special role in Christian discernment and theological reflection, and it needs to be understood in this unique way to help us avoid problems.

I want to say two things about experience first. One is that experience is as important as doctrine in biblical teaching about Christian discipleship. Yes, doctrine is important, for right teaching is foundational for vital Christian faith. But the idea that Christian faith is an internal thing that is not visible to others, or is not necessarily evidenced relationally, is a fallacy.

For example, from Paul’s language in Philippians 2 about working out our salvation “with fear and trembling” to James’ insistence in James 2:17 faith without action is dead, we see consistent messaging that faith is a lifestyle, and not merely a one-time commitment. This comes on top of the language of the Shema in the Torah, the repeated teachings of the prophets about the God’s covenant being “the way” in which Israel was enjoined to walk. (Cf. Isaiah 30:21)

But there are a couple of things that experience does not do. For one, experience does not provide us with substantive theological content in and of itself. Experience is always experience of something, and experience understood in a context. It requires an external frame of reference in order to be intelligible. And, if it is to be useful, that frame of reference needs to be a reliable one. To use an automotive analogy, experience is like an indicator light or an engine gauge. It is helpful only when we know what it is measuring. Otherwise, we gain nothing from it.

The other thing about experience is that because it allows for confirmation rather than providing substantive content, it is necessary a secondary element of our theological discernment. Here’s what I mean. I will always remember being a youth pastor in my first church, and visiting a young man who had left the church. When I met him, we had a cordial conversation. It revealed that his experience of Christian discipleship conflicted with what he had heard taught. Instead of loving, mutually enriching community, he experienced conflict, animosity, and gossip. He decided he did not want any part of it, and in some measure, I don’t blame him.

My real complaint would have been with the ones who modeled Christian faith so badly, because they were trying to validate experience that did not accord with the pattern set out in Scripture. This sort of behaviour is common among Christians. Not all are as hypocritical as this first, but each exhibits the pattern. Here are a few examples.

Theologians who believe that women should submit universally to male leadership usually do so because of their convictions about what biblical leadership must necessary look like, and decide 1) that women cannot meet the criteria, and 2) that female leaders described in Scripture must be explained away or rationalized as exceptions to the rule. They impress their experiential embrace of patriarchal values upon Scripture and insist that there is the only valid form of biblical interpretation.

Another example that is somewhat different is that of people who relativize or reject biblical teaching because of insights derived experientially. For example, biblical teaching on human sexual expression is clear and consistent (despite claims to the contrary). But increasingly, experiential evidence is being mustered to redefine or replace biblical directives as being inadequate or outdated in light of contemporary sensibilities or psychological data.

Let me be clear again. Theology is shaped by one’s experience. Contextualization is a necessary element of theological work. But experiential context shapes application, not substance. To set aside Scripture as a source in favour of an appeal to science, or sociological data, or personal intuition, is a fool’s errand. It is a common one, but it leads nowhere good.

I also recognize that biblical interpretation is highly contested, and that knowing what we should conclude based on a study of Scripture is not always an easy thing to discern. But I would reply that the length and breadth of Christian theological history are consistent and substantive enough that we ignore them at our peril. Uncovering a unifying theological narrative out of the combined witness of Scripture is something that we can do, and if we don’t, it is only because we refuse to do so.

And this narrative is broad enough to allow for considerable diversity that I see as an asset rather than a liability. For example, I received an email from a friend this week about a book by an author in the Orthodox tradition who had highly constructive and helpful things to say about atonement theology. I resonated with what my friend shared and affirmed it. I am more cautious about input from people that I would consider on the margins of the Christian tradition, or outside it, but I am willing to listen. I don’t want to let my experiential biases blind me to things I need to learn.

But I hope it goes both ways.