Impostor syndrome strikes again

A couple of weeks ago I gave a presentation (via Zoom) to the annual conference of the St John Chrysostom Research Group (meeting this year in Tbilisi). And, once again, I found myself overwhelmed by impostor syndrome. As a relatively recent convert to Orthodoxy, what right do I have to talk Orthodox theology to a gathering of Orthodox theologians?

In one way or another, I have been practising theology for about forty years. And, while I only became Orthodox recently, I have for much of that time been in dialogue with Orthodox theology. One might think that by I would have developed a certain confidence about my work. In fact, the opposite is true. As the years go by, I simply become more conscious of how much I have not read, of how little I actually know with any degree of confidence. Perhaps that is as it should be. The subject of theology is, of course, infinite. How can I, a finite human being, even begin to grasp anything worth knowing? Finitum non capax infiniti.

There is an image, which I think was proposed by Sir Arthur Eddington to describe the quandary of the astronomer trying to make sense of the universe. He is like a bug in the hold of a ship trying to deduce the nature of the ocean from the movement of the ship. The situation of the theologian would be infinitely worse if it were not for the fact that God, in his grace, has revealed himself to us.

Thus I try to justify my impostor syndrome as something to be expected by a theologian. But the truth is, I have always suffered from impostor syndrome. I can still recall my surprise at getting half decent school exam results. And my shock when Dan Hardy congratulated me on getting my PhD. The surprise (and, yes, pleasure) on hearing Colin Gunton telling Robert Jenson how much he had learned by supervising that PhD. But then and now I am mainly conscious of how little I really know.