Furthermore, the three terms [orthodoxy, heterodoxy, and heresy] . . . are properly applied to ideas or beliefs rather than persons. . . . Applied to persons, the word "heretic" is overly broad, excessively judgmental, and usually divisive, subverting the trust that is essential to the spiritual health of a community of faith. But taken together, these terms are another invitation to the whole community to participate in the activity of theology. (26)

Again, as we learn from Socrates, it is the language of health that determines the validity of a theological expression. The life and health of a community is inevitably marked by disagreements, fostered not only by error but also by the very fact that we are human and therefore limited in our perspectives. The health of a community is measured therefore not by the absence of disagreements. Just because something has always been believed or practiced does not make it the truth. Furthermore, in a healthy community people are capable of distinguishing between ideas and people. Although the Church may reject certain ideas, it remains open and accepting of all people, even those who hold heretical ideas.

By way of Guy’s profound distinctions, we are led to a third Socratic element in the pursuit of a healthy soul. Truth is eternal, whereas all human endeavors are finite. Thus, any one of us sees only a part of the truth. The logical conclusion drawn from our finitude is that the search for truth is best pursued in conversation with others, rather than in isolation. Any time we arbitrarily cut ourselves off from others, we are in danger not only of being blinded by our own hubris, but also of being cut off from knowing the truths known uniquely to those we ostracize.

The demand for conversation is not a liberal tenet of relativism. It is a conservative demand to know and practice the truth. This is perhaps the most important point that I glean from Guy’s book. On almost every page, with the passion of a Jeremiah, he appeals for genuine collegiality in the Church. This demand for collegiality is not a matter of laxness. It is rather a "caring for one another’s spiritual health and theological growth, a caring expressed concretely in intercessory prayer and in encouraging, helpful words" (44).

Finally, for Guy, as was the case with Socrates, proper thinking is ultimately an act of devotion and prayer. As finite beings, we stand on the boundaries of mysteries. The artist who drew the cover for Thinking Theologically captured the very essence of Guy’s project by depicting a window within a window that looks out on an infinite sky. As Guy rightfully warns, the chief intellectual and moral danger that faces religious believers is seeking to prove that they and their community are right, rather than standing in the face of the infinite horizon of truth that calls all of their achievements into question. The ultimate end of theology is to help us stand dumb and blind in Light that is too bright to see and too beautiful to speak.

My only criticism of Guy’s book is that he does not stand longer in aw(e)ful presence of the Light. I must confess I found little that was helpful in the second half of the book, where Guy attempts to bridge the boundless divide between the Infinite and the finite, between God and the world. This is not because I am a postmodern relativist who questions all rational systems. Rather, it is because I found too many rational gaps in Guy’s arguments as he seeks to move from the nature of Scripture to its authority, and from the nature, or more properly, the meaning of "God" to some sort of evidential support of God’s existence.

I do not have the time or interest to explore what seem to me to be rational leaps in Guy’s arguments. However profound the arguments, I believe that an infinite gap would yet remain between finite knowledge and divine truth. This is not an argument for suspending theological judgments, but an argument that the bridge-building strategy of classical theology--with its attempt to pave a road of reason into the kingdom of heaven--was doomed before it was conceived.

Here, the thought of Socrates and, especially, the thought of Jesus again impresses me. Socrates and Jesus both constructed arguments by appealing to their recollection of eternal things in a preexistent life--Socrates in the migration of his soul, Jesus from his presence with the Father. Yet neither Socrates nor Jesus engaged in speculative arguments about eternal things. Rather, each in his own way engaged others in hypothetical thinking derived from his own personal experience as a finite being.

In philosophy, we know this as Socratic Ignorance. With Jesus, I would call it "If, . . . Then!" theology. What strikes me about Jesus’ teaching is that he turns classical theology on its head. In classical theology, as exemplified in the second half of Guy’s book, an attempt is made to show that God exists, that the revelation we have of God is sufficient, and that this revelation demonstrates God to be good and wonderful. This God then becomes the answer to human problems.