I believe that photographs can transform the way we do theology. But first I need to explain what I mean by ‘doing theology’. Then I’ll explain what role photographs can play and give some examples.
What does ‘doing’ theology entail?
Are you afraid to touch a receipt? My son is. An urban myth is circulating that the ink used in till receipts is toxic if ingested, causing a reduction in a man’s testosterone. If you visit a McDonalds, you may see a teenage boy using the edge of their baggy t-shirt to take the receipt that emerges beneath the large digital order screens. He’s protecting his manhood.
I call myself a theologian, but this involves more than the books I write and lectures I give. I’m a theologian because when I’m doing the washing up with my teenage son, I’m wondering what Jesus would say to young men navigating the complexities of societal male norms and expectations for manhood within our contemporary culture. They need to hear about someone whose yoke is easy and burden is light.
Theology is verb-like, imbedded in reflection. It is meaning making through the lens of faith. My conversation with my son is an act of theology, emerging between us as together we wrestle with what we know about God and what we see in the world.
Theology should not be something we read about or be limited to our carefully crafted sermons. Theology is lived out in our everyday lives.
I think there are three ways of conceptualising theology that explain what I mean. First, we know about theology through affect.
There are different ways of knowing things. We can know something cognitively. We learn it, read it, think it and then we know. Or we see it happen, make sense of it, remember it, and then we know it.
But we also know things in other ways, perhaps through our intuition. We sense the truth of a matter or feel it in our heart before our rational mind has made sense of it. This is called affective knowledge.
James K. A. Smith charts an anthropology which emphases that human persons
‘are not primarily thinking things, or even believing things, but rather imaginative, desiring animals who are defined fundamentally by love. We are embodied, affective creatures who are shaped and primed by material practices or liturgies that aim our hearts to certain ends, which in turn draw us to them in a way that transforms our actions by inscribing in us habits or dispositions to act in certain ways.’
Smith is making the case for how worship functions within the lived experiences of people of faith. But what is interesting for us is his view of people as ‘affective creatures’ with imaginations, not primarily thinking beings. Along these lines, Amos Yong, writing about communicating faith essentials to people with down syndrome, observes:
‘…human knowing of God is mediated through formation, imitation, affectivity, intuition, imagination, interiorization, and symbolic engagement. Thus, rather than propositions constituting the best form of catechesis, perhaps images, metaphors, paradoxes, humor, ritual, and stories mediated by a diversity of approaches – such as music, artistic media and modelling – may be better.
So, if acts of devotion (Smith) and faith acquisition (Yong) are responses to what is felt and sensed, then theologies can equally emerge from these sources, fuelled by the imagination.
In my experience, theology is often a work of the imagination. By this I mean an intuited sense of the Divine emerges through curiosity about what could be, rather than direct experience about what is.
The imagination is key to meaning making. It enables an intuited, affective sense of the relationship between ideas and images to emerge and take shape. Unlike reasoned thinking, the imagination may be working subconsciously, working out possibilities and connections in the midst of other activities.
Text-based metaphors are used throughout the Bible to describe spiritual truths. ‘The Kingdom of heaven is like…’ When imagining a person sowing seeds, we see this in our minds eye. We can smell the earth, feel the hard pods of seeds in our hands and imagine the sound of seeds thudding into rich soil or pinging as they bounce along the hard path. This brings us into a very human, embodied place which opens up a way of seeing our ministry in this light.
So, embracing affective knowing fuels our imagination of what is possible and leads us into theological reflection. This enables us to harness experience and spirituality to do theology. It is the intentional and intuited process of learning and meaning making in relation to everyday life and experiences of God. It is a core aspect of discipleship and spiritual growth. Reflection occurs as people learn through considering their experiences in light of their past, studies, culture and tradition, and many other sources, assigning the sources different values according to their authority and reliability. This ‘sense-making’ then goes on to inform how a person will react to new situations. This reflection is theological when it is faith seeking understanding, so that the eyes of faith are applied to the process of meaning making. Instead of limited to questions such as ‘What should I do?’ instead asking ‘How might God see this situation?’ and ‘How has my tradition informed other people with these experiences?’ and ‘What have I learned about God?’ All people of faith practice theological reflection in some form, and, whether it is intentional and well-researched or messy and ambiguous, it is a spiritually sensitive and an attentive process of making sense of life in light of faith.
How do photographs help?
Essentially, a photograph can work as a conduit for expanding our theology and making better use of our affective knowledge.
Working with photographs can broaden the possibilities for perceiving, and thus for imagining possibilities within ministry practice. Images use our analogical ability to imagine that which cannot be articulated in words. Working creatively with photographs pro-actively engages the image-making faculty of the intellect and thus opens up new possibilities for doing theology.
First, it helps us to understand how we emotionally relate to the experience. In this way the image resonates with our experience and articulates it in a non-intellectual yet emotionally intelligent way.
Second, the image also works in quite a different way to generate distance from the situation. By creating a slightly different relationship with the incident, the image gives us a view from a new angle.
Third we can transcend words to communicate our theology by using photographs within our work and ministry.
One doesn’t need to be a photographer or have a posh camera to use photographs to resource your theology. I’m not a photographer at all! Here are three examples of ways to use photographs that involve no special photography skill at all. Of course, if you are an experienced photographer, then you will find that these practices lead to an integration of the skills you have and your spirituality.
First, you can work with photographs that someone else has taken. This might be an historical archive, a collection designed for contemplation, exhibition, or a book of photographs. You can invite others to gaze at these photographs and ask them questions, like, choose a photograph that is hopeful for you.
Second, look at your own photographs, perhaps your photo stream, photo albums, the pictures you put on your walls. What does this tell you about your values and what you want to communicate to about your identity to others?
Third, take photographs and look at them – go on a vicinity walk around your church or home, on a contemplative walk be curious about what you see and photograph it, use the moments it takes to compose a photograph to practice being present in the moment, or do a photography project on a topic that you are mulling over.
These are just a few ideas about how photographs can resource theology. For me, doing theology with photographs is honest because affective knowing is already how we do theology. Taking photographs fuels our curiosity and encourages us to practice presence and experience the NOW. It is also a very embodied way to doing theology and takes into account the context and landscape that I inhabit.
Why not? Most of us already have a camera in our pocket!
To read more about Sarah’s ideas, to pick up a copy of Doing Theology with Photographs
Photographs awaken imagination, emotion, and embodied theology.
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