Theology Today - Vol 34, No. 3 - October 1977 - EDITORIAL

239 - Theological Roots

Theological Roots
By Hugh T. Kerr

INTERPRETERS of the American cultural scene are intrigued, and no wonder, by the enormous public response to Alex Haley's Roots. The book, the author, the theme, the research, the travels, the TV series, and the overflowing and intense involvement of millions-add up to a major social phenomenon.

Related to the bicentennial search for national identity, Roots is precipitating a rippling quest for personal integrity. People by the thousands are poring over dull census records, old passenger lists, and church baptismal minutes in a surge of genealogical enthusiasm. Dominant symbols of American culture of only a few years ago, such as the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, the "melting pot," E Pluribus Unum, are being by-passed in an effort to accent ethnic individuality.

Once we assumed that immigrants wanted to forget their past and become assimilated as stereotypic "Americans." Now, third and fourth generation young people, as well as many senior citizens, are returning to their ancestral sites, seeking out long-lost relatives, and digging around here, there, and everywhere for their almost-forgotten and long-undernourished roots.

In many ways, the Roots phenomenon cancels out the whole "now" generation, the existential involvement in the present moment, and the conventional pragmatic American eagerness to be where the action is. Long out of fashion on the college and seminary campus, history and languages may well experience a revival. Archives, civil and church records, lists of names and addresses, tombstone inscriptions, dusty tomes hidden on library shelves-for many people these may, incredibly, compete with the latest paperback and the slickest illustrated magazine.

Of course, we may overrate the current craze. It could be only another fad, a flash in the pan. Time will tell whether Roots

240 - Theological Roots

has actually struck a spark to ignite the human spirit and lift the imagination in new and enduring ways.

In any case, what is happening at the present moment in the widespread genealogical quest parallels what some have been saying recently about theology and the religious life. Many of the experiments in the past several years in theology, church programs, liturgical practices, and personal spirituality have deliberately cut loose from historical roots. In all the above areas, we have been pressured by a "now" generation, disdainful of the past, ignorant of traditions, and mawkish about discovering the really real.

In a pertinent, and much quoted, critique of the present church situation in America, James I. McCord has said that we suffer from "collective theological amnesia." We have forgotten our heritage. We languish because a loss of memory obscures our roots, and we hardly know who we are, what we are doing here, or where we are going.

The biblical word of reprimand, as well as of promise, for all deracinated peoples is "remember." It is one of the heavy words in the Hebrew Scriptures and is spoken especially to exiles in foreign lands. "Hearken to me, you who pursue deliverance, you who seek the Lord; look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were digged. Look to Abraham your father and to Sarah who bore you . . . " (Isa. 51:1-2).

III

Now, we can hear the gleeful chorus of conservatives in all fields: "We told you so; in fact, we've been telling you for years, but you don't listen." Well, what they say is true, but it is not the whole truth. The point of genealogical search for roots is not only to uncover the identities of forgotten relatives or to pitch a tent on ancient sites to get the feel of another age. It is as stultifying to live in the past as it is to be swept to and fro by every wind of doctrine. Roots are meant to nourish the branches of the tree, and, in the classic symbolism, what is below the ground corresponds with what is above, as a tree by a quiet lakeshore seems to have a dual, complementary form. As up, so down; as below, so above.

If "remember" is a typical Hebrew covenantal word, perhaps the corresponding Christian concept is "new." The Christian religion is a faith in new beginnings, growing out of ancient roots. So we celebrate the birth of a new child, are baptized into a new name, put on new garments, obey a new commandment, become a new creature, and look forward to a new heaven and a new earth. In this sense, the quest for roots is in order to live meaningfully in the present and look forward to the future with hope, promise, and exaltation. As the Apostle put it: "I leave the past behind and with hands outstretched to whatever lies ahead I go straight for the goal . . ." (Phil. 3:13-14-Phillips).

241 - Theological Roots

The articles and features in this issue of THEOLOGY TODAY converge on this search for roots and the promise of tomorrow. If the theme, more or less, is "culture and religion," the gravamen of this issue argues for a remembrance of things past in order to find meaning for today and expectation for the day after. So, biblically speaking, we can repeat the often casual salutation, "Have a good day."

Genealogy, as anyone who has tried it knows, can be very, very hard work. It is not easy to recover the past. Some roads lead nowhere or to a dead end; others can detour our plans or turn up something we don't want to know about. Even when we find what we're looking for, we're not always sure what to do with it. The big names, the important places, the carefully nurtured family tree-that's no problem. But most of us are not pedigreed, and we sit uneasily toward the past unless we can capture a sense of how one generation is linked with another in an ongoing, purposeful progression.

The closing lines of Alex Haley's Roots, recounting the burial of his father, are worth quoting:

The Pine Bluff service over, we took Dad to where he had previously told us he wanted to lie-in the Veterans' Cemetery in Little Rock. Following his casket as it was taken to Section 16, we stood and watched Dad lowered into grave No. 1429. Then we whom he had fathered-members of the seventh generation from Kunta Kinte-walked away rapidly, averting our faces from each other, having agreed we wouldn't cry.

So Dad has joined the others up there. I feel that they do watch and guide, and I also feel that they join me in the hope that this story of our people can help to alleviate the legacies of the fact that preponderantly the histories have been written by the winners.