A long opinion piece by K.L. Noll, published yesterday on the Chronicle of Higher Education web site, pits religious studies against theology. Noll complains that

Most people do not understand what religious study really is. Professors of religion are often confused with, or assumed to be allies of, professors of theology.

Placing himself firmly on the side of religious studies over against theology, Noll goes on to claim that while religious studies—a historical, religious discipline—advances knowledge, theology does not. Indeed, theology cannot advance knowledge, Noll claims, because

religion does not do what apologists for religion usually say it does. It does not reveal a god to us or enable us to achieve something referred to vaguely as enlightenment. One does not need to be an atheist to realize that each claim of divine revelation exists for some purpose not stated (or, in some cases, not even known) by the one who claims the revelation. A religious truth-claim can be advanced for any number of reasons. It might be a cynical political ploy or a sincere interpretation of genuine experiences that neurobiologists can help us to understand. Likewise, one need not affirm atheism to understand that sacred traditions, like any combination of cultural artifacts and human ideas, survive and replicate for reasons that have little to do with the truth-claims associated with those traditions.

To my mind, this paragraph belies the distinction Noll wishes to enforce. The claim that “religion … does not reveal a god to us”—besides being ridiculously vague, as one can hardly speak about “religion” in the abstract rather than specific religions—is a bald-faced theological claim, not an empirically demonstrable claim about “why and how humans are religious, what religion actually does, and how religion has evolved historically” (Noll’s description of religious studies a paragraph earlier).

Noll further explains his proposed distinction by dehumanizing theologians:

In sum, the religion researcher is related to the theologian as the biologist is related to the frog in her lab. Theologians try to invigorate their own religion, perpetuate it, expound it, defend it, or explain its relationship to other religions. Religion researchers select sample religions, slice them open, and poke around inside, which tends to “kill” the religion, or at least to kill the romantic or magical aspects of the religion and focus instead on how that religion actually works.

Noll then proposes a ridiculous test for how to tell a theologian from a religious researcher:

If you are uncertain with whom you are speaking, just inject the name of Richard Dawkins into the conversation. The theologian will be dismissive of him; the religion researcher will not.

I propose a test of Noll’s test: compare the number of theologians who have actually taken Dawkins’s arguments seriously, as measured by attempts to respond to his arguments as if they mattered, with the number of religious researchers who have chosen not to follow Dawkins in attributing the origins and development of religion to “memes” and by-products of otherwise useful evolutionary adaptations.

As the end of the piece approaches, Noll attempts to claim the ethical high ground for “knowledge-advancing” religion researchers over against “truth-advocacy” theologians:

The distinction that I have drawn between theology and religious study is not merely academic but ethical. In my view, the presence of a discipline within academe that does not attempt to advance knowledge but tries to defend a set of truth-claims for which empirical data are, by definition, unavailable requires of theologians greater ethical responsibility than most of us in academe already acknowledge.

And yet Noll’s article itself is peppered with “truth-claims for which empirical data are, by definition, unavailable,” such as:

  • [Religion] does not reveal a god to us or enable us to achieve something referred to vaguely as enlightenment.
  • [S]acred traditions, like any combination of cultural artifacts and human ideas, survive and replicate for reasons that have little to do with the truth-claims associated with those traditions.
  • [T]alk about a god is, necessarily, talk that never advances knowledge.
  • The god of the Bible is the sum total of the words in the text and has no independent existence. It would be reasonable to begin every theological discussion with the disclaimer “the god described in this sacred text is fictional, and any resemblance to an actual god is purely coincidental.”

With the possible exception of the second bullet, these are metaphysical—one might say theological—claims, not scientific, empirical ones.

At any rate, I invite you to read Noll’s article for yourself (a Chronicle subscription may be required, however) and discuss it there, or here.