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​Let there be Breathing Space

Making Room for Productive Ambiguity
in Open and Relational Theology

Meet Janet. She is a post-evangelical drawn to open and relational theology, and also a playwright. She loves the theatre. Janet applied for a master's program at a leading seminary in the United States, hoping to write a play exploring open and relational themes. She wanted the play to be her masters thesis. Her idea was to write and then perform the drama with other students in her class.

Her application letter took on a story form, presenting characters grappling with themes of love, resentment, forgiveness, despair, hope, and addiction among folks living in West Virginia, where she lives. The story did not have a happy ending, but it was honest to human life. She believed that open and relational theology is "open" because it can be open to life as it presents itself, without seeing it through rose-colored glasses. For her, the wisdom of open and relational theology is not that it has happy endings, but that it invites and encourages such honesty.

Her story impressed those who read her application, and she was accepted. However, she was advised that in her course of study, she would need to write clearly argued essays. "You can't just write stories," said one professor. "You also need to to scholarly, theological work." His assumption was that "real" theology is written in clear and distinct prose, making arguments and drawing conclusions. She sensed that, for him, plays were second-order theology, but that their "message" need to be presented in non-narrative form.

Another reader also suggested that if her play were to present open and relational theology, it probably needed a happy ending, as one aim of open and relational theology is to offer a clear alternative to 'bad' theologies that present God as all-powerful and in control of things. His assumption was that an open and relational play should present the truth of open and relational theology. It should have a clear moral message, like a morality play.

"But isn't there a place in open and relational theology for ambiguity and indecision, as with Hamlet in Shakespeare?" she wondered. "Isn't there a place for further questioning?"

The answer, she sensed, was no. Open and relational theology must present "good" theology and reject "bad" theology, and it must be clear in its message. She decided not to enter the program. She's going to write the play anyway. 

Beyond Clarity and Moralizing

A Place for Productive Ambiguity

Many post-evangelicals are brought up to believe that it is important to be "clear" about their beliefs. These beliefs must be clearly stated, with definitions in place, such that all questions are "clearly" answered. There is no place for loose ends, incompleteness, gaps, or productive ambiguity. The arguments must be airtight, without much breathing space.

As they leave evangelical culture, alienated from its dogmatisms, they may bring this preference for clarity with them, seeking alternative theologies that provide "clear" alternatives. One of the worst criticisms you can receive is that you are too vague, too ambiguous, not clear enough.

Open and relational theology sometimes functions this way. When post-evangelicals first encounter open and relational theologies, they often find them compelling by virtue of their clarity. True, open and relational theologians will speak of the importance of being humble amid their clarity, valorizing what they call "epistemic humility." This humility does not obviate the impulse toward clarity. It means that, after their positions have been clearly stated, they recognize that these positions may be wrong. 

This approach, with its fetish for clarity, contrasts sharply with that of a dramatist like Shakespeare. Almost all of Shakespeare's plays are filled with productive ambiguities, that is, with gaps.  A leading Shakespeare scholar at Oxford, Emma Smith, calls it "gappiness."

In the interview at the bottom of this page, she says:

"Well, 'gappiness' is just all this breathing space that there is in Shakespeare: all the things that we don’t know, the space there is for our creativity. So, I’m trying to say these plays are really incomplete, and the thing that they need to complete them is us and our sort of inventiveness, our world, our experience."

In short, the gaps are not merely defects or things left out; they are pregnant possibilities or, to use Whitehead's language, "lures for feeling." The gaps - the things left unsaid and unresolved - invite and require creativity.

The gaps also reflect the complexity of the characters in the play, who are not reducible to simple stereotypes that can be judged "up" or "down." Even one of the most murderous characters, Macbeth, is complex in this way, and despite his horrendous actions, the reader or listener gets to know him deeply, as he is on stage so much. The genius of Shakespeare and many other playwrights and filmmakers is that they create gaps for further exploration.

My hope, as a participant in the open and relational movement, is that we will make space for and welcome theological expressions that include productive ambiguities, because they are not so preoccupied with enunciating "clear" positions. There is indeed a place for clarity in life and clarity in theology. I don't want to make a fetish of unclarity. Sometimes we need clear instructions, clear guidance, and even clear definitions.

The problem lies in making a fetish of clarity that leaves out the unresolved and perhaps also the unresolvable. My sense is that when we philosophers and theologians over-emphasize clarity, we unwittingly fall into a will-to-mastery, a will-to-power, wherein we want to "master" a subject—even if, as in the case of theology, the subject happens to be God.

Outsiders sense this. God becomes an object, indeed an idol, in our imaginations. We may proclaim to the heavens that God is Love, but the Love we speak of becomes an idea in our heads that we want to be clear about, waving it as a banner, a flag, inspiring others and, along the way. dividing the world into bifurcated teams. On one side is "good" theology; on the other is "bad" theology. And we, of course, are on the good side. We are on a moral crusade to convert others to our way of thinking.

Something is lost. We leave no space for productive ambiguity, for collective questioning, for the joy of being unsure, for, to quote Whitehead, "a creative advance into novelty." Our crusading impulses take over.

If good plays can include product ambiguity, if they can be gappy, why can't good theology do the same? Why can't theology be just a little more like Shakespeare?

I realize that not all theologians can write or speak in productively ambiguous ways. We have been shaped by canons in the academy that prioritize clarity. Such is our Cartesian legacy, which holds that good ideas are always "clear and distinct." We are embarrassed if someone says that we are vague, and even criticize others, including our students if we teach, for being unclear. 

I think there's something more going on. We have been trained to think that theology at its best offers "take home messages" about how to live in the world. It must be prescriptive. This is where Shakespeare has it over theology. As an artist he can be descriptive without being prescriptive. He can simply present a character and say, in effect, this is life in its complexity and ambiguity, no further lesson needed. He invites us to be attentive, to be mindful, to take life into account with being too quick to judge. What might theology be like if it were less judgmental, less preoccupied with giving messages on how to live? What might it be like if, to quote Whitehead on the nature of love, it was "a little oblivious as to morals."

Love neither rules, nor is it unmoved; also it is a little oblivious as to morals. It does not look to the future; for it finds its own reward in the immediate present.

Make no mistake. Shakespeare's play are filled with characters who wrestle with moral questions and morally-preoccupied plots as well. My point is that the plays themselves encourage us to bracket our own moralistic mindsets for a while and simply look at what life includes. Is there a place for this kind of looking in open and relational theology?

Incorporating productive ambiguity into open and relational theology would involve embracing uncertainty and complexity, allowing for a broader range of interpretations and experiences, leaving breathing space. Here's what it might look like:

1. Diverse Understandings of God: Rather than defining God in specific terms, open and relational theology could present multiple perspectives on the divine. This would encourage believers to explore their own experiences and insights, acknowledging that God might be understood differently across cultures, contexts, and personal journeys.
2. Flexible Doctrines: Theological doctrines could be framed as dynamic and evolving rather than fixed. This flexibility would invite continuous exploration and reinterpretation, allowing for the integration of new insights from science, philosophy, and other disciplines.
3. Open-Ended Narratives: Biblical and religious narratives could be interpreted as open-ended, encouraging believers to see themselves as co-creators in the unfolding story. This approach would emphasize the participatory nature of faith and the ongoing process of revelation.
4. Emphasis on Questions Over Answers: Instead of providing definitive answers, open and relational theology could prioritize questions and the process of seeking understanding. This would foster a culture of curiosity and humility, where uncertainty is valued as a space for growth and exploration.
5. Inclusive Community: By embracing ambiguity, open and relational theology could create space for diverse beliefs and practices within the faith community. This inclusivity would allow for dialogue and collaboration among people with different theological perspectives, fostering mutual respect and learning.
6. Dynamic Ethics: Ethical guidelines could be presented as adaptable to changing circumstances rather than rigid rules. This would encourage moral discernment that takes into account the complexities of real-life situations and the evolving nature of human understanding.
7. Multiple Paths to Spiritual Growth: Recognizing that individuals have unique spiritual journeys, open and relational theology could affirm various paths to spiritual growth, including different forms of prayer, meditation, community involvement, and creative expression.

In essence, productive ambiguity in open and relational theology can help open and relational theology become still more open and relational. 

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I want to highlight the third feature of an open and relational theology that is open to productive ambiguity. It can, as with Janet above, present and communicate open-ended narratives, just like the play she wrote. Its epistemic humility is not that of developing a "position" which is recognized as finite and fallible, but in bypassing positions altogether in through openness to life as it is and becomes.

As a process theologian, I can't help but think that the very Soul of the universe, God is attentive to these narratives and that as the stories of our lives unfold, filled as they are with ambiguities and complexities, they add something to the divine life that gives God breathing-space: that is, a space to be creative, to weave what is given into a whole, even if a kind of tragic beauty, that is a divine voice.

Perhaps this is what Janet sensed in proposing her play. She sensed that we humans don't need to add further commentary to the stories of our lives, but that we can trust that something good is made of them, even in their ambiguities. Strangely enough, description without prescription makes space for faithful attention to lie as it is and perhaps even life as it is transformed, mysteriously, in a Life whose nature is love/

- Jay McDaniel

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Folger Shakespeare Library · Emma Smith on "This Is Shakespeare"