Wittgenstein’s work has had a monumental influence and has shaped the emergence of an intellectual paradigm which is often referred to as postmodernism. For example, his influence permeates Jean-Francois Lyotard’s work, The Postmodern Condition, which argues for a shift away from what he calls ‘metanarratives’ towards something much smaller (Lyotard 1984:41). He thus maintains that, if it is impossible to establish the meaning of a statement by reference to an extra-linguistic objective reality, we need instead to focus upon how meaning is generated within micro-narratives – limited contexts where ‘language games’ form clear, if not clearly defined, rules for meaning and behaviour (1984:10). Lyotard stresses the incommensurability of these different micro-narratives or language games. For this reason, the ability to judge or legislate what constitutes meaning is only possible for those situated within the micro-narrative or language game. In summary, there are no criteria external to the culture or context that enable one to determine the legitimacy of a particular behaviour, opinion, or statement. Each culture or context represents a separate narrative or language game, and its meanings, truths and knowledge claims can only be judged or analysed internally (1984:7–8). These ideas have shaped a variety of disciplines, and, given the importance to contextual theologians of the ethnographic tools developed within anthropology, it is important to illustrate how these ideas have shaped that discipline.⁴

The transmission of Wittgenstein’s ideas within the field of anthropology is considerable (Spiro 1996:759). Essentially, the epistemological implications of this view prevent anthropology from measuring cultures using (imagined) objective criteria. A paradigmatic example of this is Peter Winch’s critique of Edward Evans-Pritchard’s analysis of the religious beliefs of the Azande of Sudan (Winch 1964:308).⁵ When the latter labelled the rituals and practices of these Central African people as unscientific (Evans-Pritchard 1929:163), Winch argued that (Winch 1980):

This citation illustrates how this theoretical framework prevents anthropologists such as Evans-Pritchard from evaluating the beliefs of the Azande people using a criterion external to that culture. Another example of Wittgenstein’s influence within anthropology is Clifford Geertz’s The Interpretation of Cultures (1973).

Clifford Geertz, a figure frequently cited by contextual theologians,⁶ is also associated with the ‘postmodern’ turn within anthropology (Bošković 2002:41; Pool 1991:309). Geertz, who might be described as ‘Wittgenstein’s reincarnation as an anthropologist’ (Shweder 2007:201),⁷ argues that ethnography essentially entails providing what he refers to as a thick description⁸ of the grammar internal to a particular culture.⁹ He thus defined culture as a ‘system of inherited conceptions expressed in symbolic forms’ through which human beings ‘communicate, perpetuate, and develop’ their view and attitude towards the world around them, believing that ‘man is an animal suspended in webs of significance he himself has spun’ (1973:89). Thus, instead of using interpretive theories external to the culture, Geertz challenged ethnographers to listen for basic patterns and structures within a culture so as to understand the basic symbol systems in operation.¹⁰ Essentially, rather than using external criteria, he encouraged anthropologists to formulate a ‘thick description’ of the context and behaviour of a people using the web of symbols internal to the context itself.¹¹ These ideas have had a monumental impact on theological discourse.

Contextual theologians have not escaped Lyotard’s Postmodern condition. Indeed, his discussion of ‘metanarratives’ saturates much theological enquiry and biblical scholarship (Aichele et al. 1995; McKnight 2005; Short 2012). In like manner, a wide variety of theologians are shaped by Geertz’s conception of culture (Dunlop 2021:294; Koning 2010:33; Rooms 2012:99; eds. Thompson, Pattison & Thompson 2019:8; Todd 2000:1). This manifests itself in a number of ways. For example, thick description in theological enquiry can entail a ‘thick description’ of the ‘linguistic and conceptual world of Christian faith’, a sort of ‘ethnography of the public, intersubjective meaning routines of Christianity’ (Lindbeck 1984:32; Webster 1992:45). However, there is also an emphasis upon the ‘thick description’ of a cultural context in which the contextual theological reflection is situated (Schreiter 1997:28). A helpful example of this can be seen in the following excerpt from Dyrness (2009):

This citation illustrates the conceptual difficulty in play here as these writers attempt to maintain a supra-cultural authority for scripture and the church’s traditions in the plethora of different contexts in which Christians seek to articulate a contextual theology. However, as was noted earlier, if one accepts the incommensurability of these different cultural and theological entities, it becomes difficult to bring these thick descriptions (of the theological tradition and the cultural context) into meaningful dialogue, as Winch’s Wittgensteinian criticism of Evans-Pritchard illustrates:

This criticism illustrates the challenge facing those who simultaneously embrace a postmodern outlook and yet seek to retain an objective standpoint from which they might compare and evaluate differences between two very different cultures and traditions. However, if postmodernism is correct that the plethora of cultures and traditions are: (1) not grounded in any objective reality; and are (2) incommensurate, then it is conceptually confused to evaluate one culture using criteria formulated in another. Sadly, theologians who embrace a postmodern outlook attempt to do precisely this.

A paradigmatic example of this tendency is Robert Schreiter’s (1997) work, Constructing Local Theologies. Schreiter makes considerable use of Geertz’s anthropological approach and states that ‘listening to a culture’ requires what ‘Clifford Geertz has termed thick description’ (p. 28). In a similar vein, he views Christianity and Christian orthodoxy in terms of a religious language with its own internal grammar and norms of truth (p. 115). Nevertheless, despite embracing a Geertzian theoretical framework, he tries to set out criteria for adjudicating between authentic and inauthentic forms of contextual theology.

While Schreiter (1997) emphasises that all theologies are local theologies with their own grammar, he asserts that for a contextual theology to be ‘truly Christian’, firstly, it must cohere with ‘the tradition’ – implying his own catholic tradition (p. 95). For Schreiter (1997), this relates to both doctrinal and liturgical aspects in that he believes contextual expressions must be continuous with ‘the Scriptures, great conciliar and confessional statements, the magisterium’ (p. 95). Secondly, he emphasises that authentic forms of contextual theology should not lead to moral behaviour that contradicts earlier Christian teaching and practice. Essentially, he considers that authentic forms of contextual theology will cohere with the beliefs, practice and worship of ‘the’ tradition (pp. 117–121).

In sum, Schreiter attempts to evaluate newer forms of contextual theology, emerging in particular contexts, using the wider tradition of the church. In this way, he seems to conceptualise the various contextual manifestations of Christianity as an internal part of what might be described as a grand Christian narrative. However, the postmodern framework underpinning his analysis rejects this grand narrative as having contested boundaries, given that each historical and cultural manifestation of the tradition (each micro-narrative of Christianity) contains particular practices, behaviours, opinions and rules that are contrary to alternative manifestations. In short, Schreiter is effectively trying to judge one cultural manifestation of Christianity according to the standards and criteria of another.¹² As was illustrated earlier, the incommensurability of this kind of comparison has long since been called out in anthropology, as Winch’s critique of Evans-Pritchard’s work illustrates. In sum, Schreiter’s proposal to use internal coherence as an epistemological tool for determining authentic and inauthentic theological expression is rendered unworkable on this postmodern framework (Nye 2000:447).

It is helpful at this point to summarise the central problem with postmodern approaches to contextual theology. If one accepts Geertz’s Wittgensteinian presuppositions, then it is impossible to judge another culture or tradition on the basis of the criteria found within a different separate culture or tradition. This worldview presupposes an incommensurability of standards, which makes adjudicating between a local culture and the claims of a theological tradition inconsistent with this epistemological orientation. To be clear, a postmodern outlook does not prevent contextual theologians from creating a thick description of either a particular cultural context or a specific theological tradition. Nevertheless, this epistemological orientation entails the view that the diverse ‘grammars’ upheld by the very different webs of meaning spun in context and the biblical text are incommensurate. This makes judging between the heterogeneous features of context and the biblical text impossible using a postmodern framework. The following citation from Lyotard (1984) illustrates the challenge:

In sum, Lyotard here illustrates how this way of viewing the world renders it impossible to adjudicate between the two very different poles of contextual theology. This raises the question as to whether an alternative approach might be more suitable for the task at hand. At this juncture, I want to suggest an alternative approach which can enable contextual theologians to adjudicate between the knowledge contained within a particular context and their own theological tradition.

At this point, it is helpful to illustrate how a particularist epistemological orientation would enable contextual theologians to affirm both the knowledge contained within the said context, their theological tradition, and adjudicate between them. Inspired by the writings of Roderick Chisholm, this approach begins by assuming that people have real knowledge prior to obtaining a degree in philosophy. Indeed, Chisholm maintains that epistemology begins with knowledge, with what we think we know. It is from this point, a presupposition of knowledge antecedent to epistemological criteria, that the particularist evaluates what they think they know, exploring how it might be justified.

The particularist reverses the standard way of thinking about epistemology. Rather than beginning with a criterion outlining what is and is not a true belief, a particularist assumes the knowledge already in their possession to be valid and then (retrospectively) explores how these beliefs should be evaluated. While this might appear strange, given that philosophers have tended to presuppose rules (criteria) determining the parameters of knowledge, beginning with knowledge is not as ridiculous (epistemologically) as it might seem. Chisholm (1973) helpfully illustrates the problem with the standard approach:

Put simply, those who would say we must begin with criteria for identifying genuine knowledge are unable to find criteria without already knowing what knowledge is. However, rather than succumbing to postmodern despair, because we cannot locate such criteria, we can instead assume that we do possess genuine claims to knowledge (that we have two legs, arms and hands) and retrospectively formulate criteria for how we might know these things. This is immensely helpful for contextual theologians.

A particularist orientation allows contextual theologians to recognise the knowledge claims emerging from the said context and the knowledge claims in their specific theological tradition. It is from this epistemological starting point, in which context and text are presupposed, that we can move to a retrospective examination as to how differences between context and the biblical text might be resolved. To do this, we must ensure that, as far as possible, we formulate criteria appropriate to the case in hand.

Beginning with the knowledge in the context: On the particularist orientation proposed in this article, all the knowledge available (written or otherwise) about the cultural setting is a starting point. This, of course, raises a series of questions. If all the knowledge available is presupposed, how do we determine the most pertinent information relevant to our theological reflection? At this point, it is useful to attend to what has been described as the ‘social turn’ in epistemology, which illustrates how knowledge arises within groups. A theologian external to the context may have only obtained textual knowledge through a book or essay and is in a different epistemic position from someone formed within the context (Greco 2017:23–24). At the same time, not all insiders within the group possess the same levels of understanding. Hence, within the context, there will be internal criteria determining what constitutes an ‘expert’ and a ‘non-expert’. Thus, the relevant epistemic authorities within a given context also need to be taken into account (Greco 2017:23–24).

Beginning with the knowledge of the particular Christian tradition: Knowledge of the specific Christian tradition from which the theologian comes, is also a starting point. Here, it is important to move away from an exclusive focus on the Bible. The reception of the Bible is shaped by various factors, including the particular ecclesial body which mediates the Christian faith to a reader. Thus, a more apposite starting point for contextual theology is to begin by presupposing the contents of the specific tradition under discussion as knowledge. However, while the scriptures and indeed the tradition may be taken as knowledge, it is clear that within this tradition (as in any given context), there are those who possess greater levels of epistemic authority. According to Zagzebski, ‘all communities’, including religious communities ‘have a division of epistemic labour’ including ‘teaching’, ‘internal reflection’ and ‘clarifying’ concepts (Zagzebski 2017:109). On this basis, a contextual theologian would need to be someone who has a good understanding of, and a capacity to transmit their particular tradition faithfully.

Retrosprective evaluation and epistemic fit: If we presuppose both the particular claims to knowledge within the said context and the theological beliefs within a particular Christian tradition, we will soon discover points of agreement and disagreement between the two. How are we to retrospectively evaluate these different claims? Citing Aristotle, Chisholm argues that the most appropriate way to evaluate these competing knowledge claims is to recognise that each discipline has its own levels of precision (Chisholm 1973:35–36). Put simply, it would be foolish to expect a speech writer to offer a scientific justification for the structure contained within his oratory. In like manner, it would be ridiculous to accept a mathematical theory on the basis of orotundity.¹³ Therefore, this Aristotelian principle, which Chisholm refers to as epistemic fit, requires us to retrospectively evaluate the particular claims to knowledge in context and the biblical text in an appropriate way. Having illustrated the differences between postmodern and particularist epistemological orientations, the ‘Practical application: The encounter between Nicaea and Akan’ section explores how this approach might enable fruitful dialogue between Nicaea and the Akan of Ghana. Having outlined Chisholm’s particularist approach to knowledge, it explores how this approach might support contextual theological reflection.

The meteoric growth of Christianity in Ghana has led to the theological absorption of central features of Akan culture (Agbeti 2023:147; Williamson 1965:1). Nevertheless, it is also true that the Akan have a very different ontology from the Greco-Roman world in which Christian doctrine emerged. In contrast to the Greco-Roman Pantheon with its assembly of gods, the most high God for the Akan Onyame (Onyankopon) is one and indivisible (Agada 2024:15). Onyame, the creator [Oboadee], did perform the creation of all things himself. Thus, in contrast to Greek and Roman deities who often delegated tasks between various gods, Onyame did the work of creation himself (Ryan 1980:167). Therefore, while Akan ontology is populated by abosom, positive [ahonhom pa] and negative [ahonhom bɔne] spiritual agents or forces, these are not technically lesser deities, but powerful spiritual beings that are feared and inspire worship (Amoah 1998:3). However, the only reason that human beings engage with abosom is that they think the chasm between humanity and Onyame is unbridgeable, rendering intermediaries necessary. In addition, Asaase Yaa represents Mother Earth and matrilineal ancestors [Nananom Nsamfo] who can intercede on behalf of humanity. Nevertheless, Onyame [Onyankopon] remains the supreme, most high God. In sum, there might be other powerful agents, but there is no other god but God (Koranteng-Green 2018:101). As will be seen, this ontology clashes with the understanding of God formulated at Nicaea 1700 years ago.

The Nicene Creed was formulated at the Council of Nicaea (325 AD). The Council was convened following considerable conflict about the real nature of Jesus Christ. The Arian heresy had denied that Jesus was fully God, and the Docetist (which means apparition) heresy, which denied that Jesus was fully human (Ayres 2024:1). As a result, the Creed affirms that Jesus is both human and divine. Over the last 1700 years, the Nicene Creed has come to define Christian orthodoxy and, quite literally, to affirm that the Creed requires one to affirm that Jesus is fully God and fully man (Agyarko 2009:3–7). This differs from the Akan worldview.

This brief discussion of Akan ontology and the Nicene Creed illustrates the way in which the Nicene Creed and Akan beliefs differ about the nature of God. There are, of course, a number of theologians who have looked at this problem, and it is beyond the scope of this article to survey the various alternatives (Aye-Addo 2013:9; Opuni-Frimpong 2021:21). On the contrary, the objective here is rather to highlight how a particularist approach offers a way through apparent contradictions between culture and tradition. This is not to dispute that Christianity in Ghana has readily assimilated a number of features contained within the worldview of the Akan people, including the creation of the world by the most high God, the chasm between humanity and God which cannot be bridged, and the need for mediators and sacrifices to engage the most high God. Nevertheless, the fundamental claim of the Nicene Creed that Jesus is fully human and divine has ‘created confusion in the mind of its Akan recipients’ (Agyarko 2009:3–7). How can these different knowledge claims be evaluated?

The difficulty highlighted by this case study is essentially this: where the said culture does not contain a concept that has been central to Christian orthodoxy, contextualisation reaches an impasse. Unfortunately, a postmodern framework does not contain adequate tools to resolve the problem. Therefore, while there have been several theological attempts to resolve this difficulty, I want to focus on two renowned Akan theologians who explore this question, John Pobee and Kwame Bediako, so as to illustrate how a particularist approach offers a solution to the impasse between context and the biblical text. Thus, in specific relation to this particular question, we will begin with a Pobee who emphasises context and then explore Bediako’s approach, which emphasises the biblical text.

In his work Toward an African Theology, Pobee acknowledges that ‘expressing Jesus’ humanity is relatively easy’ but explaining the idea of Christ’s divinity is very difficult in Akan culture (1979:91). However, rather than giving priority to the Nicene formulation, he stresses the historical contingency of this Hellenistic formulation of Christianity which he describes as being ‘alien’ to contemporary society. Indeed, he contends that ‘the language and concepts of the Creed are alien to modern language and thought forms’. As a result, he considers that ‘our heavy indebtedness to Greco-Roman culture’ leads us to unhelpful metaphysical speculation (1979:83–84). Instead, he emphasises that the Bible is ‘almost reluctant’ to refer to Jesus as God. Thus, it might be argued that Pobee’s decision to focus on the scriptures indicates that he gives priority to the Akan culture, rather than the Creed. A different approach is taken by Kwame Bediako. In his work Jesus in African Culture (1990), Bediako is critical of Pobee and argues that his analysis is flawed because ‘he approaches the problem largely through Akan wisdom sayings and proverbs’ and ‘does not deal sufficiently with the religious nature of the question’. Essentially, Bediako’s criticism of Pobee is that he does not give sufficient importance to the ‘Biblical revelation’ (1990:13). This would indicate Bediako’s desire, in this particular case, to give priority to the biblical text rather than context. This interpretation is reinforced by his description of certain aspects of the Akan worldview (ancestors) as myth, a projection that has ‘no independent existence from the community that produces them’ (1990:38–39).

Having illustrated the way in which these prominent Akan theologians engage with this particular question, it is apparent that the challenge facing both of these writers remains the methodological basis on which they seek to bring the Christian tradition and Akan culture into dialogue. On what basis can they critique context using the biblical text or vice versa? This is where a particularist epistemological orientation becomes useful to both writers – regardless of their final conclusions. While a postmodern framework does not permit a critique of one culture or tradition on the basis of another, a particularist approach would enable this. Thus, contextual theologians who seek to give priority to the second pole, the Christian tradition, can begin by affirming all the aspects contained in the culture that cohere with their beliefs while critiquing those aspects which do not. Thus, Bediako’s desire to recast the central claims of the Christian tradition using African concepts is achievable because he can both uphold what he believes to be central to Christianity and synthesise these elements with traditional African concepts (1990:3). Similarly, those who wish to emphasise the cultural pole in contrast to the Christian tradition can affirm aspects of Christianity that align with their cultural perspective while rejecting those that do not (Pratt Morris-Chapman 2022:11). In simple terms, regardless of which pole one chooses to emphasise, a particularist epistemological orientation allows for a legitimate critique of features that conflict with the prioritised pole.