2. God and Philosophers in Africa
As a point of departure in this section, I would like to state that I have deliberately chosen to designate this section “God and Philosophers in Africa” rather than “God in African Philosophy” because the adjectives that are placed before “philosophy” only qualify the substantive, which is philosophy. The role of the adjectives, in this context, is to highlight the context of philosophising or the space from where one philosophises.
Contemporary philosophical discourses about God are carried within the decolonial project. They seek to know whether “African gods”, or rather African conceptions of God, can be captured within the traditional monotheistic conception of God, especially the conception of God in Christianity. Or whether
Okot p’Bitek’s (
1970) claim that the early African nationalists and scholars, Jomo Kenyatta, Leopold Sedar Senghor, J. B. Danquah, K. A. Busia and John Mbiti, in their works “dress up African deities with Hellenic robes and parade them before the Western world” (
p’Bitek 1970, p. 41) is cogent or not. Hence, issues in contemporary philosophy of religion in Africa focus on the traditional problem of evil, and the nature and attributes of God (
Mbiti 1969,
1975;
Bewaji 1998;
Gyekye 1998;
Wiredu 1998;
Fayemi 2012;
Agada 2022a,
2022b;
Cordeiro-Rodrigues and Agada 2022;
Majeed 2022;
Aleke 2023). Philosophy of Religion within the decolonisation project in Africa is a continuation of the quest for the legitimacy of African philosophy and African epistemic heritage in the face of rejection and/or criticism by the “so-called Western philosophers”.
Situating contemporary discourse on philosophy of religion in Africa within the decolonisation project and the quest for the legitimisation of African philosophy,
Cordeiro-Rodrigues and Agada (
2022, p. 5) assert: “The debate in African Philosophy of Religion is therefore shaped by questions about decolonisation and liberation. These questions are grounded in the project of reconstructing an authentic African identity which can be both autonomous and sophisticated, dispensing with the need for it to be driven by European concepts”. While such a project seems noble, it is doubtful that it is attainable. Put differently, one wonders whether it is possible to reconstruct pure pre-colonial African experience that is not influenced and affected by colonisation and the intellectual exchange that has taken place between Africans and Westerners. Secondly, an exaggerated decolonisation project seems to overvalue philosophical space and context while subtly undermining the fact that philosophising is a human phenomenon and enterprise. Thirdly, a decolonisation project that seeks unadulterated African experiences and “authentic African identity” runs the risk of being irrelevant to Africans because it gradually turns into an intellectual jamboree among scholars who, ultimately, are seeking the endorsement of European and North American scholars.
Of course, decolonisation could also mean critical reflection and appraisal as espoused by
Kwasi Wiredu (
1998). Such an understanding of decolonisation does not entail an
a priori rejection of non-African conceptual frameworks and categories. According to
Wiredu (
1998, p. 17), decolonisation is the “divesting of African philosophical thinking of undue influences emanating from our colonial past”. This conception of decolonisation does not begin by envisaging African and non-African conceptual frameworks and systems as being contrary or essentially contradictory. This conception of decolonisation is essentially a common feature of philosophy as a critical reflective discipline. What this entails is that critical engagement on God and religion in Africa should not be confined to purely descriptive, phenomenological or linguistic analysis.
Contemporary philosophical discourses on God in Africa tend to be descriptive. In other words, they outline the cultural practices among different ethnic groups and the languages that different African traditions use in discussions about God in myths, proverbs, legends, songs and ritual practices, and tend to draw conclusions from them without critical engagement with the reasons for the use of such language. Such discussions tend to ignore the fact that all human language about God and the divine is analogous and not univocal.
Wiredu (
1998) in his particularistic approach contends that decolonisation of African philosophy and religion should be based on an analysis of African languages and customs in order to disentangle conceptual imposition. The danger with this approach that places emphasis on analysis of language is that it tends to underestimate the inherent limitations of language. Consequently, conceptions of God by different ethnic groups or African traditions are equated with the person of God and thereby they fail to distinguish between language and reality. This lack of distinction leads to infelicitous expressions like African God(s), Christian God, Muslim God, etc. I call these expressions infelicitous because while the expression “African God(s)” is in essence a short-hand for African conceptions of God, it can be interpreted to mean that there are various Gods in reality. Conceptual convolution between African conceptions of God and the person “God” is common in contemporary discourses on the problem of evil in Africa. For instance,
John Bewaji (
1998) and
Ademola Fayemi (
2012) from their analyses of Yoruba religious texts reach the conclusion that God is both good and evil and so is limited and not perfect or omnipotent. This, in their view, implies that the Yoruba God is different from the Christian God or traditional monotheistic God and, in so doing, they agree with
p’Bitek (
1970) who argues that African deities are different to the Christian God. A question that imposes itself immediately when one reads such decolonisation discourses is, are there different Gods or are there different conceptions of the same God? Clearly if God is taken to be the Ultimate Ground of all reality or the Uncaused Cause or Supreme Being, then there is only one God, but there are different conceptions of God. The different conceptions of God arise because of contextual differences, plurality of religious experiences, and different models of revelation. Cognisant of the conceptual confusion between God and conceptions of God,
E. Bolaji Idowu (
1973, p. 146) asserts:
There is no being like “the African God” except in the imagination of those who use the term, be they Africans or Europeans… there is only one God, and while there may be various concepts of God, according to each people’s spiritual perception, it is wrong to limit God with an adjective formed from the name of any race.
While some scholars like (
p’Bitek 1970;
Wiredu 1998;
Bewaji 1998;
Fayemi 2012) would disagree with Idowu, a non-parochial philosophical approach would readily agree with him. As I have already mentioned, if God exists and is the Supreme Being or a necessary being, then there cannot be more than one God.
Pius Mosima (
2022, p. 159) who holds a similar view, asserts that “images are just ways human beings try to describe God but none of them adequately captures who God is”. No analysis of language, no matter how rigorous it might be, can equate the conceptions of God with the person “God”. Therefore, any attempt to claim that the African God is different from the Christian God just because the African conception of God is different from the Christian conception of God is a category mistake.
Such category mistakes have given rise to some contentious questions such as the limited God thesis and the quest for a material God. The limited God thesis is based on the fact that there is evil in the world and, since there is evil in the world, God is not perfect and, consequently, is neither omnipotent nor omnibenevolent.
Bewaji (
1998) and
Fayemi (
2012) argue that some Yoruba religious texts attest to the fact that
Olodumare, the Yoruba God, is both good and evil, and sometimes seeks knowledge from other deities. Another reason for the defence of a limited God is the rejection of the doctrine of creation
ex nihilo by
Wiredu (
1998, p. 30) because the Akan word
bo which is normally translated as “to create” excludes the possibility of creating out of nothing. In his view,
bo means to make or to fashion out of pre-existing materials. Consequently, he argues that in the Akan worldview, God as
Oboade is a cosmic architect and not a creator. This interpretation resonates with
Immanuel Kant’s (
1999) position in his contention against the physico-theological argument for the existence of God. It is important to mention that Wiredu’s interpretation of
bo and
boade is contested by
Hasskei Majeed (
2022, pp. 62–63) who argues that the Akan terms
bo and
boade do not presuppose pre-existing material out of which one creates. In line with this position, Kwame Gyekye argues that
Onyame is the Creator who creates the universe
ex nihilo.
Apart from the contestation of the meaning of bo and boade by Akan scholars, a crucial question that one needs to ask is this: “Does the existence of evil and rejection of creatio ex nihilo warrant the affirmation of a limited rather than perfect God?” My answer is that the affirmation of a limited God is not warranted. The conclusion that because there is evil in the world, God is limited, is based on the dubious assumption that African conceptions of God are a perfect description of God. However, no conceptions of God, whether African or non-African, are a perfect description of God. All conceptions of God that are mainly descriptive suffer from phenomenological limitations. In fact, any religious or theological language is analogous and not univocal. That means that when the same attribute is ascribed to God and humans, there is both similarity and difference because divine nature is different from human nature. Besides, the transition from outlining African conceptions of God, be they Akan, Yoruba, Luo, Órring, Zulu, Igbo, to the conclusion that an “African God(s)” who is (are) limited does not take into consideration the overwhelming anthropomorphism in African religious texts, whether written or oral. The use of anthropomorphism was probably designed to facilitate easy remembrance and to underline their existential import since African religious traditions were originally conserved orally in myths, legends, proverbs and riddles. Therefore, the primary objective of African conceptions of God was not to articulate a coherent philosophical or theological argument but to encourage adherents of religious traditions to live a virtuous life. Consequently, while I agree that African conceptions of God are different from non-African conceptions of God, I contend that God is one. And if God exists, there is only one God who, if God is to be considered as the Ground of all things that exist, must be understood as being ontologically perfect.
The presence of evil in the world does not justify the claim that God is limited. I have argued elsewhere that God’s omni-attributes (omnipotence, omniscience and omnibenevolence) are not contradictory to the reality of evil in the world because while it can be argued that God is capable of doing everything, it does not follow that God must do everything to satisfy the preferences of human beings (
Aleke 2023). Those who claim that there is a logical necessity between the two implicitly claim to have a God’s-eye view of reality. The reality of evil in the world is just a manifestation of the fact that the world is not perfect. And it is contradictory to expect a created or caused universe to be perfect. Perfection, in the ontological sense, means being absolutely independent. Being created or caused implies being dependent. Of course, it could be objected that even if humans are not ontologically perfect, they can be morally perfect. Nonetheless, I contend that an ontologically imperfect being cannot be morally perfect because moral perfection is founded on ontological perfection.
As I have already mentioned, another reason why a limited God rather than an unlimited God, that is, a perfect God, is postulated in contemporary philosophy of religion in Africa is the rejection of the doctrine of creation
ex nihilo in some African conceptions of God, e.g., the Akan conception of God (
Wiredu 1998). Wiredu’s argument is based on his analysis of the Akan terms
bo and
boade, which he claims presuppose pre-existing material out of which one creates. Hence if God is
Oboade (Creator) then it does not make sense to opine that God creates out of nothing. Wiredu’s position does not go unopposed by Akan scholars who are philosophers. From his analysis of Akan language and religious tradition,
Gyekye (
1998) defends the doctrine of creation
ex nihilo.
Majeed (
2022, pp. 62–63) illustrates with examples that the Akan terms
bo and
boade do not presuppose pre-existing materials out of which one can make things. Nonetheless, he agrees with Wiredu “that the idea of nothingness, creating out of nothing, requires proper formulation in Akan philosophy” (
Majeed 2022, p. 63).
In the spirit of decolonisation, understood as critical reflection, which
Wiredu (
1998) advances, the inevitable questions that arise are: What does the doctrine of
creatio ex nihilo really mean? Does it make sense to argue that God created the universe and the things in it from pre-existing materials? The doctrine of
creatio ex nihilo is founded on an interpretation of the biblical account of creation in Genesis 1:1-2:4a. It alludes to the relationship between God and the universe, the Creator and the creation or the created. According to that account (unlike the second account in Genesis 2:4b-25), God did not use any raw material or pre-existing matter to create the universe and all the things that are in it. He only used his words and things came to be. That is why the expression “God said” is very crucial in the first creation account in the book of Genesis. When interpreted in the light of the first creation account, the expression
creatio ex nihilo is a shorthand for “God created the universe and everything in it out of nothing but His words”. What is emphasised is not absolute nothingness but that there were no pre-existing material things prior to creation by God. In fact, it would be philosophically uninspiring to allude to the idea that there were pre-existing material things out of which God created the universe, if by material things is meant extended reality, that is, things that occupy space. This is because prior to the creation of the universe or the world, there was no space and hence, there would not be pre-existing material things. Therefore, the doctrine of
creatio ex nihilo emphasises the nature of God as the Supreme Being or Uncaused Cause who was able to bring the universe into being through His powerful word. The objective of the doctrine of
creatio ex nihilo is not to juxtapose being and nothingness but to highlight the nature of God, whose attributes include omnipotence. If one acknowledges that the universe and all material things (even the so-called pre-existing materials) are contingent, that is, that they are not necessary beings but beings that began to exist, then it is philosophically more illuminating to defend the doctrine of
creatio ex nihilo than to argue that God created the universe out of pre-existing material things. Paul Cogan and William Lane Craig emphasise what
creatio ex nihilo means by quoting Thomas Torrance:
The creation of the universe out of nothing does not mean the creation of the universe out of something that is nothing, but out of nothing at all. It is not created out of anything—it came into being through the absolute fiat of God’s Word in such a way that whereas previously there was nothing, the whole universe came into being.
To avoid ambiguity about the correct understanding of creation out of nothing, Cogan and Craig pointed out that as used by Torrance “whereas previously there was nothing” is an incorrect expression. They comment as a footnote:
Technically, however, this is incorrect. Torrance needs to say that “it was not the case that there was anything previously.” To say “previously there was nothing” implies that there was a moment of time prior to creation at which nothing existed; whereas, to say “it was not the case that there was anything previously” is to deny even the existence of the prior moment as well as anything else before creation.
To advance the notion of a limited God by opining that God created out of pre-existing materials demands an explanation of the origin of the pre-existing materials. Consequently, the fact that the expression
creatio ex nihilo cannot be articulated meaningfully in the Akan language or any other African language for that matter, does not undermine the explanatory power of the doctrine. In fact, the issue in question is not whether
creatio ex nihilo is meaningful and coherent. Rather, the issue in contention is whether some languages, e.g., the Akan language, have an adequate conceptual framework to articulate some abstract philosophical thinking. Put differently, the question that is raised by
Wiredu (
1998) is not primarily the problem about the doctrine of
creatio ex nihilo. It is a problem about the limitation of the Akan language. One could argue that the reason for such limitation is that religious language and discourses on God in traditional African societies were symbolic in nature as they are relayed in myths and proverbs. Hence, philosophical discourse about God in Africa should not rely mainly on the analysis of language. It is incumbent on philosophers of African descent to widen the conceptual framework of African languages about God to enable abstract philosophical thinking that goes beyond analysis of symbolic expressions. To move from the analysis of African languages about God to the affirmation of a limited God in Africa is, at best, a disservice to the philosophical enterprise.
Having argued that the affirmation of a limited God is problematic, the possibility of a material God must be examined. Among the important questions to which answers, whether explicit or implicit, need to be provided before one can reasonably affirm or negate the existence of a material God, are these: What exactly would a material God be? What does the adjective “material” mean in this case? Can a material God be the First Cause, the Uncaused Cause, the Supreme Being or the Absolute Ground for the existence of the universe and all the things in it? From a superficial analysis of some African conceptions of God it could be argued that the affirmation of a material God is plausible. This plausibility is based on the fact that (1) there is overwhelming anthropomorphism in African religious texts, (2) material things like trees, rocks, rivers, et cetera are used to represent God in African traditional religions, and (3) God has the capacity to impress Himself on human consciousness (
Attoe 2022). Are these reasons sufficient for the affirmation of a material God? I contend that these three reasons, whether individually or collectively, are not sufficient.
Aribiah David Attoe claims that the third reason given above is sufficient. His conclusion is based on his understanding of materiality. According to him, God is a material entity not because human beings are capable of perceiving God with their sense of sight, but because of God’s capacity to impress Godself on the conscious mind, whether directly or indirectly (
Attoe 2022, p. 33;
Mokoena 2022, p. 148). Attoe’s claim about the materiality of God is problematic for two reasons. First, his understanding of materiality is not the same as the classical understanding of materiality in the history of philosophy. To say that God is immaterial, non-material or spiritual means that God is not a composite being but simple, that is, not composed of matter and form. Put differently, this contention argues that there is no Aristotelian hylomorphic structure in God.
Aristotelian hylomorphism holds that material entities are composed of two co-principles, matter and form (
Aristotle 1998). Material or composite beings are beings that both occupy space and have beginning in time, whereas non-material or immaterial beings do not occupy space because they are not composed. In ascribing materiality to God, Attoe deviates from the understanding of materiality for those who argue that God is not a material being. Nevertheless, arguing that God is immaterial or spiritual does not imply that God does not have influence in God’s world. Besides, arguing that God is an immaterial or a spiritual being does not mean that God’s presence is not felt by humans. It is because God’s presence is inevitably felt by human beings that God is said to be glorious. This is what is implied when it is said that God reveals Godself in nature.
The second problem with Attoe’s position is that in claiming that materiality means God’s capacity to impress Godself on the conscious mind, it is not clear what he means by God impressing Godself. It seems obvious that such capacity to impress does not arise out of perception by sight or hearing. How then does that the impression occur? Is it an automatic act by God or does it (also) necessitate a human act? I argue that human experience and questioning of one’s experience is essential for affirmation of God’s influence on human beings. Hence, it is not just a question of God impressing Godself on a conscious mind as Attoe seems to imply, but a matter of the human inquiry and critical attitude or spirit at work (
Lonergan 1971,
1992)
1. Consequently, claiming that God is a material entity because God has the capacity to impress Godself on a conscious mind is not philosophically illuminating. It is more illuminating to hold that in the quest for God, human beings make a reasonable affirmation based on their experience of God’s revelation and their understanding of this personal experience.
If Attoe’s main reason to claim that God is a material entity is to legitimize his assertion that God is a-thing-in-the-world, then questions with regard to what he means by ‘being in the world’ in relation to God need to be answered. God, according to him, is “regressively eternal and necessarily so”, and “the first cause from which other things-in-the-world emanate”. If God is regressively eternal as Attoe claims, then it would mean that non-existence cannot be ascribed to God since one cannot reasonably claim that there was a time God was not. The regressive argument for the existence of God goes back to Aristotle who referred to God as the Unmoved Mover, and more importantly to St
Thomas Aquinas’s (
1963) argument for God’s existence where, in the first and second ways, God is described as Unmoved Mover and Uncaused Cause, respectively. In this sense, God as the first cause cannot be on the same causal chain with secondary causes (caused causes). In addition, God as first cause cannot be a material thing-in-the-world since if God is regressively eternal then it must be explained whether there was God before the world or the universe came to be. Arguing that there exists a God who is a material God and regressively eternal is at best
contraditio in terminus.
In this section, I have explored some issues in the contemporary discourses in philosophy of religion in Africa. I contended that the quest for decolonisation of God in Africa arises from conceptual confusion and category mistakes. This is because there is no clarity between the being God, the concept God, and the conceptions of God. In other words, there is a tendency of not distinguishing clearly between reality, thought, and language. In addition, I argue that the quest for a limited God or a material God is problematic because the proponents rely on descriptive methodology but their expositions are lacking explanatory clarity and precision. In the next section, I will engage with theological discourse within the decolonial paradigm in Africa.
3. God and Theologians in Africa
In general, contemporary theological discourses in Africa within the decolonisation paradigm are basically centred on the possible relationship held between African Traditional Religions (ATR) and Christianity. The positions that scholars mostly defend are that of continuity or discontinuity between ATR and Christianity/Christian Theology. A new position that is defended by
Anné Verhoef (
2021) is that of deconstruction. The early African religious scholars and theologians—for instance, E. Bolaji Idowu and John S. Mbiti—are considered as the proponents of the continuity approach. They argue that there is not an irreconcilable discontinuity between African Traditional Religions and Christianity. Nonetheless, they acknowledge that there are some differences in the conceptions of God but that ultimately the God of Jesus Christ and the Supreme Being of African Religion is one and the same God. Hence, the traditional attributes of God—omnipotence, omniscience, omnibenevolence—can be ascribed to God in African religious traditions (
Mbiti 1969,
1975;
Idowu 1973). It is important to note that the symmetry between African Traditional Religions and the Christian Religion that is defended by Mbiti and Idowu is the being “God” and not necessarily about the conceptions of God, that is, the manner in which God is understood and described in the two religious traditions.
Their scholarship is not founded on the decolonisation paradigm, as
Teddy Chalwe Sakupapa (
2019) claims.
Mbiti (
1969, p. 277) refers to African Traditional Religions as
praeparatio evangelica. Such a depiction of the ATR is not decolonial in outlook. It highlights a symbiotic relationship between the Gospel and culture, Christianity and ATR. Therefore, the position of the pioneer scholars is better captured as adaptation, or what is called inculturation in Catholic theology. In fact, a critical analysis shows that the main objective of the early African scholars is to show that it is compatible to be both African and Christian as most of them were first generation Christians who probably were previously practitioners of African Traditional Religions. Theirs is a quest for articulation of African Christian identity (
Bediako 1999).
Idowu’s exploration of African traditional religion, especially the Yoruba religious tradition, heritage and practices, is not aimed at the decolonisation of Christianity but at encouraging the establishment of an authentic African Christian identity so as to address a situation that was developing in Nigerian society, that of a proliferation of nominal Christians. A similar argument can be made of Mbiti’s theological project. His appreciation of African traditional religious heritage and spirituality is aimed at a genuine encounter between the Gospel or Christian faith, and African pre-Christian religious tradition and culture. Hence, the theological project of the early scholars was not decolonial but aimed at an authentic “incarnation of Jesus Christ” in African cultures and societies and in this way contributing to the emergence of a true African Christian identity. An indication that Mbiti’s theological enterprise is not a decolonial project is his insistence that Christianity is both traditional and African (
Mbiti 1969, p. 277;
Bediako 1999, p. 319). It is not only that Mbiti’s theological outlook is not a decolonial project but that he does not advocate for the decolonisation of God and the Gospel in African Christianity. He aptly captures his view in his comment on John W Kinney’s position where he observes that:
God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is the same God who for thousands of years has been known and worshipped in various ways within the religious life of African peoples, ‘and who, therefore’, was not a stranger in Africa prior to the coming of missionaries.
It is not an exaggeration to assert that the theological enterprise of the early scholars is not a decolonisation project. It is an attempt at the incarnation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the African context. It is from this standpoint that Mulago gwa Cikala Musharamina’s quest for the adaptation of Christianity in Africa and his insistence on the development of African Christian theology is properly understood (See
Bediako 1999, pp. 347–85).
The position of the scholars who have a positive evaluation of African traditional religious beliefs and practices, and the proponents of African Christian theology, is sometimes referred to as the continuity approach between African Traditional Religions and Christianity. However, a critical consideration would readily admit that what the defenders of this view advocate is not strictly continuity between African Traditional Religions and Christianity. Rather, their position highlights that there is not a radical a priori anti-Christian element in African Traditional Religion. Their position is better understood as underscoring that Africans who were raised in African Traditional Religions can be truly Christian after conversion, and that their previous religious experience would not inhibit their new identity as African Christians. This is the case because the Gospel of Jesus Christ can be incarnated in any religious and cultural traditions. It would be a hermeneutical error to conclude that theologians and religious scholars in this group defend the continuity between the conceptions of God in both African Traditional Religions and Christianity.
Because of the importance of revelation and its understanding in various religious traditions, and different contextual experiences, conceptions of God are different in different religions and religious traditions, but the “concept” of God and the reality “God” is one and the same.
Liborie Kagabo’s (
2006, p. 30) view is similar to the one expressed here. While exploring the ‘correspondence between terms that designate the Supreme Being in African religions and the Christian one’, he affirms:
What is really decisive, primary and fundamental, is not the concept of a Supreme Being as crystallized at a certain moment in dogma: this is a result. What is decisive, primary and fundamental is the infinite number of individual and collective experiences endlessly repeated and that end up in giving place to a certain doctrine. They are the same questions that people of all places and time have asked themselves about their existence, the existence of the world, their origin and their destiny, with the different answers they give.
Kagabo’s thought as quoted can be interpreted as asserting that, despite different conceptions and expressions of God in different religions and socio-cultural contexts, the Being to whom reference is being made is one and the same. Hence, if the concept of “continuity” is to be used at all to identify the position of those who argue that there is a positive relation between African Traditional Religions and Christianity, then it should be restricted to meaning the continuity of the reality called God in the two religious traditions and the continuity in the identity of the person who converts from one religion to another. However, continuity simpliciter between African Traditional Religions and Christianity cannot be ascribed to the scholars of religions and theologians in this group.
In the same vein, the works of the early African scholars of religions and theologians cannot strictly be called decolonial or a proto-decolonisation project. Their works are attempts at articulating the incarnation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the African religious and cultural contexts. Put differently, the works of the early scholar can be situated within inculturation projects rather than decoloniality. It is not an exaggeration to claim that every theological project is incarnational in nature. In that light, “Western Christianity” is an incarnation of the Gospel in Western religious and cultural contexts, while “Western” theology is a contextual articulation of the incarnation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Hence, it is the Gospel as incarnated in the Western context that the Western missionaries brought to Africa, and that was all they could have done. The role of African theologians is not decolonial but inculturational, that is, the articulation of the incarnation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the African religious, social and cultural context. Highlighting the inevitability of Inculturation in the proclamation of the Gospel and Christian evangelisation in different cultural contexts, Liboire Kagabo asserts:
The main aim of Inculturation is double: evangelizing the culture on the one hand and inculturating the Gospel on the other. To begin with, the two paths respond to two different but complementary challenges. Starting from the first, the main question is to know how one can evangelize a culture at the same time drawing from its riches, even at the risk of somewhat compromising with it. As to the second, the question is to know how to inculturate the Gospel while remaining faithful to it. Doubtless it is a question of priority: it is the Gospel that ought to be announced as best as one can. But the two paths are complementary: it is not possible to evangelize the culture without at the same time inculturating the Gospel and it is not possible to inculturate the Gospel without evangelizing the culture.
It is because the incarnation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in Africa is deemed to need some kind of symbiotic relationship that African theologians in the Catholic theological tradition emphasise inculturation theology rather than the decolonisation of Christianity (
Nyamiti 1984;
Magesa 1998,
2004;
Bujo 2003;
Bujo and Muya 2006;
Orobator 2009,
2018). It is worth noting that the preference for inculturation theology by African Catholic theologians does not imply an uncritical acceptance of African traditional, cultural and religious practices. Neither does it mean a canonisation of elements of European or American Christianity that is stifling. Cognisant of the fact that Christianity in every age, place and time is always inculturated, theologians underscore that the proclamation of the Gospel is a cultural encounter.
Magesa (
2004, p. 17) expresses the critical and symbiotic elements that are indispensable in inculturation thus:
From the Christian theological perspective, inculturation is understood to be the process whereby the faith already embodied in one culture encounters another culture. In this encounter, faith becomes part and parcel of this new culture. It fuses with the new culture and simultaneously transforms it into a novel religious-cultural reality. In practical terms, this process involves the interaction of mutual critique and affirmation. It entails acceptance or rejection of thought forms, symbolic and linguistic expressions and attitudes between the faith-cultures in question.
What is highlighted by the quoted text is that inculturation is not an appendage to evangelisation and propagation of the Christian faith. Rather, it is an essential aspect of evangelisation since both the evangeliser and the evangelised are neither decultural nor noncultural. In the African context, the Christian is not a Christian in a vacuum. She or he is always a contextualised Christian, that is, an African Christian. Hence neither of the two aspects of her or his identity can be eliminated. Be that as it may, inculturation does not entail blind continuity between African Traditional Religions and Christianity. Without using the term “inculturation”, Agbonkhianmeghe Orobator in the postscript to his Theology Brewed in an African Pot aptly captures the view that all theology is indeed inculturated thus:
Theology develops in context. Our encounter with God happens in time and space. Revelation, or God’s self-communication, is immersed in history. Our deep and probing questions about the meaning of human existence arise from our experiences. Relating to God, self, and others happens within a concrete space and a defined time. Detached from our human experience and context, theology comprehends little if anything at all of who we really are or who we are called to be as disciples of Jesus Christ.
When inculturation theology is adequately understood, the quest for the decolonisation of God or the decolonisation of Christianity does not arise.
I have so far explored the position of the early scholars who gave a positive evaluation of African traditional religious practices, and inculturation as emphasised by African Catholic theologians. I will now explore the discontinuity position.
Contrary to the position that the African traditional religious and cultural context is vital in the articulation of African Christian experience, the discontinuity position holds that the African pre-Christian religious and cultural context has nothing to do with Christian living and proclamation of the Gospel. Those who defend this position view Christianity and African Traditional Religions/cultures as opposing entities. This means that the acceptance of Christianity entails the rejection of African traditional religions and cultures. This position is mainly championed by Evangelicals who see the Bible as a compendium of answers to all human problems.
Bediako (
1999) identifies Byang Henry Kato, an evangelical theologian from Nigeria, as one of the principal defenders of the discontinuity thesis.
Kato (
1975) is very critical of African theologians and religious scholars like Idowu and Mbiti for their insistence on the relevance of the African religious and cultural context to the quest for authentic African Christian Identity. While Kato agrees that the search for African identity is vital considering Africa’s terrible background (transatlantic slave trade and colonialism), he insists that such a quest for identity should not “fail to appreciate the uniqueness of Christianity” (
Kato 1975, p. 13).
In Kato’s view, to be an authentic Christian, an African must divest herself or himself of her or his African traditional religious and cultural heritage. Kato’s rejection of a positive appreciation of African Traditional Religions by African religious scholars and theologians is based on his conviction that such an enterprise is rooted in the belief in universalism, the doctrine that opines that, ultimately, all people “will be saved whether they believe in Christ now or not” (
Kato 1975, p. 11). To drive home his point,
Kato (
1975, p. 14) asserts: “The new garb that African traditional religions are putting on promotes universalism. The respectability of these religions makes them appear to have equal standing with Christianity. They appear to give promise of a future life of happiness”. The inevitable questions that arise in view of Kato’s position are these: Is the appreciation of the positive element of African religious heritage and the inculturation of the Gospel of Christ in Africa a defence of universalism? Do the proponents of African theology undermine the uniqueness of Christianity? A critical approach to the questions would show that there is no correlation between inculturation and the doctrine of universalism. In addition, rather than undermining the uniqueness of Christianity, the goal of the proponents of African theology is to make the uniqueness of Christianity meaningful to Africans. Nonetheless, Kato would not agree with this position. In his view, any theology or expression of Christianity that deviates from Biblical Christianity is an implicit or explicit defence of universalism. In his critique of Mbiti’s theology
Kato (
1975, p. 57) writes:
But contradiction is not the worst problem of Mbiti’s theology. It is his universalism that poses a threat to Biblical Christianity in Africa. His great enthusiasm in “Africanizing” Christianity, while done in good faith, poses a threat to “the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints”.
(Jude 3)
Commenting on the irreconcilable dichotomy that Kato places between African traditional religious heritage and Christianity,
Bediako (
1999, pp. 389–90) asserts:
What Byang Kato’s understanding of the relationship between the African heritage in religion and the Christian faith amounted to, was that the two constituted quite distinct and discontinuous entities, different religious systems with little or no common ground between them. From Kato’s standpoint, therefore, there was no theological validity for the very basis on which the African theological enterprise was being constructed, namely, that the “perennial religions and spiritualities of Africa” were the chief realities with which the African Christian scholar needs in the first place, to come to terms, and interpret.
From the quotation, one can infer that Kato’s position is that of radical discontinuity between the African religious heritage and the Christian faith. Put differently, one could say that in Kato’s view, to be a Christian, one needs to completely divest oneself of one’s African traditional heritage and culture. It is doubtful if such a quest is attainable. There is no such thing as a de-contextualised Christian. To be a Christian, is to be a Christian in space and time. So contextual influences are unavoidable. To think of a “pure Christian” is at best utopic. At best, a radical discontinuity can only be an initial phase immediately after one’s conversion to Christianity when there is no clear distinction between the reality, God, the concept of God, and the conceptions of God. Put differently, radical discontinuity between African traditional religions and Christianity is a manifestation of the pre-critical stage in the life of an African Christian. The words of Orobator, a Nigerian Jesuit priest and theologian who is a convert from African traditional religion are instructive, especially since
Kato (
1975) claims that one of Mbiti’s limitations is “the fact that he was born and brought up in a Christian home”. Orobator writes:
There was a time when I was not a Christian. My faith journey divides into three distinct but overlapping phases. In the beginning, I was born into African Religion and later converted to Christianity. Christianity taught me a strong disdain for all things fetishist and animist, for that was how good Christians were catechized to perceive African Religion. The transition from African Religion to Christianity was a clean break—or at least such was the expectation—judging by the vehemence with which the catechism rejected any traditional religious practice and all those Africans who in their blindness persisted in following that way of life. Fortunately for me, a radical break with a past that was deemed cursed and diabolical never quite materialized. Over time, I have learned to adopt a critical yet respectful and appreciative distance vis-à-vis these two phases of my religious experience. This standpoint of critique, respect and appreciation constitutes a third distinct phase, and it is driven by a passionate quest to integrate, converge and harmonize seemingly disparate and conflictual claims and contestations among the religious traditions that dominate the African landscape.
Kato would claim that Orobator’s position is that of a liberal Christian and not that of a conservative evangelical Christian. However, without proper integration between different religious experiences, African Christians would be religious schizophrenics.
From the foregoing, it is reasonable to conclude that a radical discontinuity between African traditional religions and Christianity is unattainable. In so far as Africans are Christians, they must be African Christians. This presupposes that there are influences of African cultural heritage in their lives since the Gospel as proclaimed is incarnated in space and time.
Since I have argued that both continuity and discontinuity theses simpliciter between African traditional religions and the Christian faith are indefensible, a question that arises is this: is there any other position other than inculturation or incarnation of the Gospel in the African context?
Verhoef (
2021) proposes deconstruction in order to avoid the extremes of the proponents of the continuity and discontinuity theses. Although he advances his position while considering the possibility of decolonising the concept of the Trinity in Africa,
mutatis mutandi, the position can be applied to the continuity and discontinuity between African traditional religions and Christianity. While advancing his preference for deconstruction rather than decolonisation,
Verhoef (
2021, p. 5) writes:
The motivation for this deconstruction of the concept of the Trinity is not only to allow for decolonisation but it is also motivated by the need for religious freedom, openness and tolerance. Furthermore, it wants to avoid the critique, which Conradie and Sakupapa’s ‘Trinity as decolonising’ may receive, namely that it is too similar to the Evangelical position of complete discontinuity with ATRs and the position where the concept of the Trinity remains the dominant one.
A question that becomes inevitable is, how does deconstruction enhance religious freedom, openness and tolerance? Verhoef would argue that deconstruction is a better approach because deconstruction is rooted in the acknowledgement of the limitation of language. In other words, there is no finality in the use of language, religious language inclusive, as “language is not a transparent medium that connects one directly with a ‘truth’ or ‘reality’ outside language, but that we remain in language as a structure or code” (
Verhoef 2021, p. 6). In his view, the implication of advancing deconstruction rather than mere decolonisation in the continuity and discontinuity debate is that deconstruction eliminates rigidity and dogmatism in religious discourse. Such an approach, he argues, “promotes an openness and playfulness within religious discussion, without trying to reject religion’s effort to find hope, love and meaning in life” (
Verhoef 2021, p. 7).
Does Verhoef’s deconstruction approach resolve the continuity and discontinuity debate between African traditional religions and Christianity? In my view, it does not resolve the issue, for at least two reasons. Firstly, since the foundation of deconstruction theory is the limitation of language, the limitation applies to the term “deconstruction” itself, and so it cannot have a final say in the debate. Besides, considering that every religious and theological discourse is based on analogy, the limitation of human language is acknowledged but that per se does not undermine the veracity of religious discourse. Secondly, an approach that champions “playfulness within religious discussion” does not necessarily enhance freedom, openness and religious tolerance. Adherents of religious belief would consider an emphasis on playfulness as undermining their religious belief and the source of meaning in their life. Put differently, the deconstruction approach, in my view, is self-defeating. If no term is apt enough to capture completely the reality or phenomenon that it refers to, because of the limitation of human language, it means that deconstruction itself also, both as a concept and term, cannot be exempted from the limitation of linguistic expression, and so cannot be the vehicle through which other terms and concepts can be “purified”. Secondly, if the essence of deconstructing the concept of the Trinity is to make Christianity more playful, then it could be claimed that this approach leads to a watering down of Christian religious experience and the fundamental role that revelation plays in religion. Besides, “finding life, hope and meaning in mundane, corporal and immanent level” is not contrary to finding life, hope and meaning in revealed truths.