About twenty years ago, I came across ‘Radical Orthodoxy for Dummies’ by Elizabeth Smith poking fun at the theological movement known as Radical Orthodoxy. Sadly, it has long since vanished from the Internet. So I have decided to post a couple of extracts here for your amusement.
This first piece is called ‘How To Become Radically Orthodox: A Beginner’s Guide’:
First, it will help if you start out Radically Privileged, have learnt at least one classical language before you hit university, and are not beset by family members asking why you haven’t gone in for something like Accountancy or Marketing that will guarantee you a well-paying job. A good general grounding in classical and enlightenment philosophy is also necessary, so that you do not embarrassingly mix your epistemology and your ontology, your realists, idealists, nihilists and so on. Then you need to go deeply into the work of a theologian or philosopher who may well be totally out of fashion. At this point you may become discouraged because no one else seems to be interested in your chosen writer, but please persevere.
By now you will also have friends who are studying subjects other than classical philosophy and what used to be called “patristics.” Eventually you will notice that they are having great fun playing with Structuralism and Post-structuralism and Psychoanalytic Theory and Queer Theory, not to mention the whole gamut of Feminisms and Post-Colonialisms, and all sorts of other exciting tools of fin-de-millennium scholarship, and you will wonder if it might not be fun to play with some of the same things in your own field.
All this time, you will have been faithfully attending church services. You should take care to participate in the type of liturgy that is aesthetically rich, in a visually stunning building with marvellous music, ministers in fabulous vestments, services that go on unhurriedly in imitation of the Liturgy of Heaven, and the kind of sermon that has sometimes been unkindly characterised as “three points and a poem” (the poem usually being many times richer and deeper than the three points, due to its having been written by someone other than the preacher). Steep yourself in the liturgical world of metaphor, symbol, and palpable transcendence, for here has been preserved (or, if we are to be honest, reinvented in 19th century Anglicanism) the flavour of piety and imagination that we are about to inject, along with a cocktail of postmodern methodological stimulants, into the veins of the historical theological figure you have so diligently and hitherto thanklessly been studying.
Now you need to find a group of like-minded scholars with whom you can share hints on how to get Lacan and Derrida into footnotes where a generation ago Schleiermacher and Barth cast much longer shadows. You need to grit your teeth and read North American contemporary criticism and not just British and European sources. Then, at last, you need to find a hot topic in current social or ecclesial life, and find a way for your antique hero to appear to make a contribution to the debate. Only a cynic would suggest that in fact the debate is making a contribution to the faded aura surrounding your antique hero. As for suitable debates, sex, politics, and art are always good value for a controversy guaranteed to get the juices of academic interest flowing.
