The Sphere of Deputation: Expanding the Venerable Tripartite Staples of Christological Exploration

Broadly, Christology deals with the identity of Jesus of Nazareth, whom Christian Scriptures describe in several ways, for instance: Christ, Son of man, Image of God, Logos, Rabbi, Firstborn of creation, and Lord (Mk 8:29, Jn 1:1, Col 1:15-19, and 1 Cor 8:6). While drawing from the rich biblical representations of Jesus, theologians have focused on three venerable areas of exploration in their Christologies. To highlight one theologian, James Cone (Reference Cone1986), who wrote from the context of African American history and experience, hinted at the traditional three areas of christological exploration when he stated: “Because Jesus Christ is the focal point for everything that is said about the Christian gospel, it is necessary to investigate the meaning of his person and work in light of the black perspective” (p. 116). The three operative terms in Cone’s remarks – person, work, and meaning – roughly correspond to the related christological spheres of ontology, function, and significance. Notably, until recently, theologians working in the field of Christology emphasized two of the three spheres.

These dual emphases are evident in Rosemary Radford Ruether’s (Reference Ruether1981) assertion that the “center of Christian theology is not an idea but a person,” referring to Jesus of Nazareth, his life and work (p.1). Ruether highlights two aspects of Jesus’ identity, which may be termed ontological and functional. Ontological identity refers to the nature of Jesus’ being. By functional identity, I mean Jesus’ deeds (i.e., the range of things he accomplished during his earthly life) and his experiences (e.g., crucifixion, God’s vindication of him by means of resurrection).

Since the heyday of christological debates and controversies in the fifth century CE, intellectualization, perhaps in some cases over-intellectualization, has become a constant companion in Christian discourses on the identity of Jesus (Kelly, Reference Kelly1960, pp. 310–343; Grillmeier, Reference Grillmeier1975, pp. 349–554; McFarland, Reference McFarland2019). For example, theologians have debated the senses in which Jesus was, in the words of the ecumenical Council of Chalcedon (451 CE), “acknowledged in two natures without confusion, without change, without division, without separation – the difference of the natures being by no means taken away by reason of the union.”Footnote ² This conciliar christological definition was an attempt to describe with precision the boundaries within which to discuss Jesus’ identity. The definition also laid the foundation for how to understand the nature and significance of Jesus’ works. The Council of Chalcedon in effect created two related but distinguishable spheres for christological exploration: ontology (christological discourse on Jesus’ identity, especially what it means to say he is divine and human) and function (christological deliberation on what Jesus accomplished during his earthly ministry in his capacity as God incarnate). On the ontological front, the Council, in agreement with the Council of Nicaea (325 CE), decreed that Jesus was consubstantial with God and consubstantial with humans. The sphere of function concentrates on the salvific work of Jesus. According to the Council of Chalcedon, Jesus, the Son of God, was “begotten before ages of the Father in Godhead, the same in the last days for us; and for our salvation born of Mary the virgin Theotokos in manhood.”Footnote ³

The Council of Chalcedon framed its understanding of Jesus’ work with humanity’s salvation in mind. Understandably, the two arenas of ontology and function, for an extended period, dominated christological conversations, especially among systematic and dogmatic theologians. They adjust, unsurprisingly, or tailor their discussions in these areas to fit their own church traditions (Kärkkäinen, Reference Kärkkäinen2003, pp. 15–16). Sometimes theologians have driven an unwarranted wedge between the person and work of Jesus. For methodological purposes, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer noted, it is helpful to distinguish between Christology and soteriology (Bonhoeffer, Reference Bonhoeffer1960, p. 40). However, Karkkainen’s (Reference Kärkkäinen2003) claim that “it is improper to separate Christology and soteriology because the only way to receive knowledge of something is to observe its effects on us” is misleading insofar as Christian soteriology is not limited to the work of Jesus (p. 13). It is salutary, in the field of Christology, to attend to the specific role that Jesus, the incarnate God, plays in the triune God’s work of salvation (Tanner, Reference Tanner and Gunton1997, pp. 245–246).

A third sphere of christological exploration, which incorporates aspects of ontology and function, addresses the broad significance of Jesus’ identity, including theological, spiritual, ethical, social, and moral derivatives. The uniqueness of the sphere of significance is tied to the meaning and scope of what Christians believe that Jesus has accomplished for his disciples and the world at large – for example, the salvific relevance of his death and resurrection and the ethical implications of his teachings (Haight, Reference Haight1999, p. 16). Paul Tillich’s (Reference Tillich1951) “method of correlation” paved the way for theologians to examine how the significance of the Christ-event constitutes God’s answer to the existential questions deeply rooted in the cultural milieus of human beings (p. 60).Footnote ⁴

Notably, several African, Asian, Latin American, and Oceanian theologians have developed Christologies in ways that move beyond the dual emphases on ontology and function and are comfortable with undertaking a christological excavation of the sphere of significance (Schreiter, Reference Schreiter1992; Bediako, Reference Bediako2004; Orevillo-Montenegro, Reference Orevillo-Montenegro2006; Te Kaawa, Reference Te Kaawa2020). Contextual theologians, in particular, have taken full advantage of the discourses on the significance of Jesus that are pertinent to the existential and mundane questions of Christian communities. Black liberation theologians (North American and Southern African) and Dalit theologians have developed robust Christologies that draw inspiration from the life of Jesus. These Christologies address the questions that the poor, the oppressed, and the disenfranchised in racialized societies ask of the Christian faith (Boesak, Reference Boesak1984; Cone, Reference Cone1986; Hopkins, Reference Hopkins1989; Phan, Reference Phan2003; Massey, Reference Massey2014).

To sum up the foregoing description of the current state of the field of Christology, three interrelated spheres of exploration have conditioned its development. These are (1) the sphere of ontology, which focuses on the issue of Jesus’ kind of person – who he really was/is; (2) the sphere of function, which deals with Jesus’ work – what he really accomplished during his earthly ministry; and (3) the sphere of significance, which concentrates on the theological, spiritual, ethical, and social derivatives or values that Christians discern in or extrapolate from Jesus’ person and work. These three venerable spheres, in my view, cannot sufficiently account for Jesus’ ongoing work in his post-earthly existence, which he can only accomplish through deputization.

I want to propose and sketch a fourth sphere that I described at the beginning of this section as the sphere of deputation (see Table 1). I argue that this sphere, which centers on Christians’ enactment of the presence and powers of Jesus because of and in response to his deputization, opens a new and noteworthy frontier for christological exploration. The sphere of deputation implies that another viable way to understand how Christians today might understand and explain Jesus’ question “who do you say that I am” (Mark 8:29) is through their embodiment of his presence. The nexus of this sphere is Jesus’ enduring presence, made manifest through deputization – his authorization of his disciples to serve as his proxies. In turn, their act of deputation enables them to invoke and embody his presence within the bounds of his ongoing work among his church and in the world at large. As disciples, Christians can act on behalf of and for the sake of Jesus, albeit temporarily and subject to his freedom to either honor or distance himself from their acts if he chooses to do so. Jesus’ “freedom to initiate and terminate remains unimpaired,” Frei (Reference Frei2013) rightly notes, “yet it is one with his constancy and faithfulness” (p. 38).

Table 1The spheres of Christology

Table 1 Long description

The table reads the following: Ontology: Describes the person of Jesus Christ as God incarnate. Function: Explains the works Jesus Christ accomplishes directly as God incarnate, especially during his earthly life, without human proxies. Significance: Covers the salvific, theological, and non-theological implications Christians derive from Jesus Christ’s person, work, and experience. Deputation: Refers to the works Jesus Christ accomplishes by means of deputization, particularly through his disciples and in his post-earthly existence.

Painting with a broad brush, we might say that the christological disputes of the fifth century CE centered on two key issues: Jesus’ identity and his role in humanity’s salvation. In contrast, one of the crucial questions facing christological conversations in today’s era of world Christianity is how Jesus ensures the continuity of his work in the world through deputization. I argue that it is a grave mistake to defer the exploration of deputation-related themes to fields such as missiology, ecclesiology, pneumatology, or practical theology. While these themes can indeed be studied within those academic disciplines, my focus in this Element is specifically on christological issues, which I examine in detail. Inasmuch as Christians believe that they can become Jesus’ authorized deputation to the world and that he can choose to act through them, the sphere of deputation is worthy of christological exploration. Granted, a shift in methodology, such as training in ethnographic research, is required to study aspects of christological issues within the sphere of deputation. Consequently, theologians need to add this research skill to their academic repertoire.

In christological terms, the sphere of deputation is not identical to the spheres of function and significance, though their similarity is glaring, especially given their closer proximity compared to the sphere of ontology. Despite this similarity, the sphere of deputation has unique characteristics that distinguish it from the other three spheres. For example, unlike the traditional view of the sphere of function, which concentrates on the deeds that Jesus accomplished by himself and during his earthly ministry (e.g., teaching and miraculous works), the sphere of deputation focuses on the works that he can only accomplish indirectly through the instrumentality of his disciples in his post-earthly life. The contents of the spheres of ontology, function, and significance are based on Jesus’ person and deeds, both of which are neither dependent on nor contingent upon the instrumentality of his disciples. Conversely, the sphere of deputation requires the instrumentality of Jesus’ disciples. In other words, this sphere emerges when Christians, as the authorized representatives of Jesus, actively carry out the work of deputation, through specific actions. Although the sphere of deputation derives its initial impetus from Jesus’ act of deputization, it is his disciples that can actualize and embody or concretize it. Put differently, Jesus and his disciples are the co-principal content creators in the sphere of deputation. The continuance of Jesus’ worldwide discipleship visionary work is partly contingent on Christian disciples’ actualization of his deputization.

What about the difference between the spheres of significance and deputation? The sphere of significance, particularly in its traditional configurations, deals with the values that Christians derive from Jesus’ person and deeds. The belief that Christian disciples can act as Jesus’ deputation to the world, in a general sense, could be construed as a form of christological derivative from Jesus’ person and deeds. This might make it seem that the phenomenon of Christian disciples’ deputation belongs to the sphere of significance. But one of the signature characteristics of the sphere of deputation is the uncharted and ongoing works that Jesus brings about only by means of his disciples. The sphere of deputation is the realm of works whose existence is tied to the activities of Jesus and his disciples. In this sphere, Jesus acts in tandem with the other members of the Trinity to generate the need and nature of specific works in the thoughts and hearts of his disciples, enabling them to recognize such works as his. He further empowers them to carry out these works in the world in his name, for his sake, and for their benefit. Jesus does not merely endorse what Christian disciples do in their capacity as his deputation to the world. Rather, he is the one who acts through them. The sphere of deputation, therefore, is closer to the sphere of function than the sphere of significance. To be clear, the sphere of deputation, as I imagine it, is not the product of Christians’ self-proclamation or self-actualization. This means that the sphere of deputation cannot be understood in isolation from the spheres of ontology, function, and significance. These four christological spheres, therefore, ought to be understood as distinguishable, yet integral entities.

As a distinct entity in its own right, the sphere of deputation is rich with untapped christological resources. These resources include the new questions and portrayals of Jesus that arise when Christians reflect on their effectiveness as his representatives in the world, as well as on the effectiveness of his authority as the one who has commissioned them. To identify these christological resources within the sphere of deputation, it is essential to distinguish between how Christians represent or conceptualize Jesus (Christology) and how they seek to emulate his way of life (discipleship). Put simply, Christian discipleship concerns the transformative influence Jesus has on his followers as they commit themselves to him.

Analogously, Christology is about the molding effects Christians have on Jesus – that is, their ability to formulate different images or representations of Jesus based on their understanding and experience of him. The sphere of deputation can pull Christology and Christian discipleship into the same theological orbit. For example, in their varied responses to Jesus’ deputization, Christians can draw upon their perceptions of him, which can be informed by theological materials from scripture, personal experience, church tradition, and reason (Ezigbo, Reference Ezigbo2021). Therefore, Christians’ work of deputation should be understood within the frame of their varied understandings of Jesus. Christian acts of deputation, when carried out within the bounds of Jesus’ deputization, are essential to Christology. This is because this sphere can provide unique resources for Christology that are not available to the christological spheres of ontology, function, and significance. One example is Christians’ construction of images of Jesus as a formidable power for countering the spiritual forces that impede their work of deputation. Also, the sphere of deputation offers a distinct christological pathway for understanding the Christian confession and belief in the continuing presence of Jesus in the world. I will discuss these claims in Sections 2, 3, and 4. I now focus my attention to the christological foundation of the sphere of deputation.

Christological Foundation of the Sphere of Deputation

Christology, as previously noted, deals especially with Christians’ portrayals of Jesus Christ, reflecting their varied understandings of his identity, personhood, experience, beliefs, teaching, claims, deeds, and mission. These portrayals are typically based on Christians’ personal encounters with him, as well as the testimony of scripture and the church. Viewed from this perspective, the focus of the field of Christology should not be limited to issues in metaphysics: the discourses on Jesus’ ontological constitution, especially how he is fully God and fully human. The focus should also include praxis: the deliberations on the practical effects of what Jesus accomplished directly and what he has done (and continues to do) indirectly through his disciples, who serve as his proxies. Equally, the field of Christology should deal with issues in utilization: an exploration of Christians’ formulation and use of their beliefs and understandings of Jesus in their lives of discipleship and other areas of their lives. Metaphysics, praxis, and utilization are pertinent to the act of portraying, which involves the taxing activities of interpretation, representation, and concretization of a reality or one’s belief about that reality – in this instance, the reality of Jesus’ continuing presence and work in the world through deputation.

One effective way to study the reality of Jesus is through the lens of his cross-cultural discipleship vision. This is because Jesus’ discipleship can serve as a framework for interpreting the dynamics of his presence and works within the context of his relationship with his disciples. Therefore, it is appropriate, when discussing the sphere of deputation, to explore the christological nexus between Jesus’ deputization of his disciples and their deputation work in the world within the context of his discipleship project. According to the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus commissioned his followers to disciple (mathēteusate) others, including people of other nations, based on what they have learned from him (Matt 28:19-20).

Another New Testament book states that Jesus instructed his earliest disciples to testify about his life and deeds beyond the geographical boundaries of Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria. They are to carry on the work of witnessing to “the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8, NRSVUE). Philip Sheldrake rightly notes that Christian discipleship “implies both metanoia, conversion, and also following a way of life in the pattern of Jesus Christ and as a prolongation of his mission” (Sheldrake, Reference Sheldrake2010, p. 11). The realization as well as the survival of Jesus’ worldwide discipleship project is connected to his authorization (deputization) of his disciples to be his representatives in the world, whereas the works that they carry out on his behalf and in his name signify representation (deputation). Thus, Jesus’ act of deputization and his disciples’ work of deputation constitute the core of the sphere of deputation as used in this Element.

Three main interrelated beliefs constitute the christological foundation of the sphere of deputation. First, Jesus has promised his enduring presence to his disciples. Second, as God incarnate, Jesus possesses divine powers, and he can choose to share aspects of his powers with his disciples. Third, Jesus has commissioned his disciples to be his deputation in the world. In what follows, I will briefly examine each belief, highlighting its relation to the sphere of deputation.

Jesus’ Enduring Presence and the Sphere of Deputation

Jesus’ promise of his presence to his disciples is intrinsically linked to his act of deputization and constitutes a notable christological foundation for the sphere of deputation. The New Testament gives sufficient indications that Jesus has promised his presence to his disciples and authorized them to serve as the representatives of his life and work in the world. He made this promise with unequivocal assurance. Expressions such as “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matt 28:20, NRSVUE) and “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them” (Matt 18:20, NRSVUE), which the Gospel writers attribute to Jesus, are common knowledge in Christian communities. The author of the epistle to the Colossians reminded his readers about the ubiquitous presence of Jesus among Christians with the phrase “Christ in you” (Col 1:27), signaling Jesus’ indwelling presence in the lives of his disciples. Although Jesus is no longer physically present in the world, Christians have retained the belief that he is still alive, and his presence can be felt and experienced in the world today, albeit in a circumlocutory manner. This belief raises the question of how to discern Jesus’ presence in the world. My interest here is not the resurrection debates – whether Jesus’ resurrection is bodily or nonbodily in nature, but instead the way the risen Jesus, as Christians believe, is present to the world in his post-earthly existence.

What, then, does it mean to say that Jesus is present to the world in his post-death and post-resurrection context? Theologically, this question, along with its cognates, has haunted theologians for centuries. Saying that Jesus is alive and at work in this present world presupposes a form of continuity of existence in his post-earthly life. Below are examples of the diverse ways of construing Jesus’ presence that can be discerned in Christian theological circles. One way to construe Jesus’ presence in the world is through the continuity of narratives. By this I mean that Jesus is present to and in the world through Christian communities’ contextualized retelling and appropriation of the story of his life, experience, and teaching on God-world relations, human-human relations, and gospel-world relations, (Williams, Reference Williams2000, p. 191; McFarland, Reference McFarland2019, p. 189). People can experience Jesus’ presence through such narratives. There is the continuity of memorial. For example, Jesus may be said to be present to the church through its ritual practices and celebrations such as the eucharist and baptism. Michael Budde (Reference Budde2014) describes the role that the eucharist plays in keeping the “memories of Jesus alive” in and through Christian communities in ways that bridge the “barriers between past, present and future” believers. As Budde claims, “Christ becomes present among us today; we become part of his body moving forward toward the exemplification of his completion of history” (p. 285). The continuity of ideation does not require committing to Jesus in an exclusive relationship as a disciple or a Christian believer. Nonbelievers in Jesus, for instance, can form in their “imagination and consciousness” the life and teaching of Jesus without submitting to his lordship (Frei, Reference Frei2013, p. 46). For Christian believers, continuity of ideation entails believing that Jesus is present to his disciples in their minds and individual lives, whether they actualize his presence by means of narration or memorial.

We may also understand Jesus’ enduring presence in the sense of continuity by means of a mystical union. In this sense, Jesus is present today because he dwells in his disciples. Lesslie Newbigin (Reference Newbigin1954) puts it in this way: “We know Christ as our living and present Lord, and our fellowship with Him and with the Father through Him … . We know that He is no remote figure of past history, but that He dwells in us and we in Him” (p. 120). There is also continuity by means of inherent divine powers. In this sense, Jesus, as God incarnate, transcends spatial limitations because of his kind of being. He is inherently, in his divine nature, omnipresent. Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s (Reference Bonhoeffer1960) insistence on understanding Jesus’ presence to the world without violating “the wholeness of his person” is theologically prudent and insightful (p. 45). This can protect Christian theologians against approaching the issue of Jesus’ presence in the manner that diminishes the traditional Christian belief that he is fully divine and human. Bonhoeffer imagined the “wholeness” of Jesus’ person as consisting of his humanity and divinity. He writes, “Only because Jesus Christ is man is he present in time and space. Only because Jesus Christ is God is he eternally present everywhere. The presence of Christ necessitates the statement ‘Jesus is fully man’ – and it necessitates the other statement, ‘Jesus is fully God’” (p. 45).

It is possible to conclude from these five ways of understanding Jesus’ continuing presence that he was once a commanding presence through his impressive works but has now become a theological relic in his post-earthly ministry. People can now view or encounter Jesus’ former commanding presence or what is left of his reputation through the theologies and practices of Christian communities. The sphere of deputation offers a different outlook on Jesus’ continuing presence in the world: not as a relic but as a figure whose presence can be encountered because he is actively at work in the world today by means of deputization.

For the purposes of this Element, I use the phrase “continuing presence” narrowly to designate a deputized way of being. In relation to Jesus, it is his enduring commitment, as one who is fully human and divine, to act through the proxy of his disciples to bring the effects of his identity, life, teaching, and deeds to the world in his post-earthly existence. This description of Jesus’ enduring presence suggests continuity through deputization. From this perspective, Jesus may choose to be present in the world via the agency of the church, which serves as an assembly of his authorized deputies, though always within the bounds of his prerogatives.

A helpful way to understand the raison d’être for Jesus’ promise of his presence to his disciples is to situate it within the contexts in which he articulated it. One such context, as previously indicated, is Jesus’ continuing works in the world through his Christian disciples. Undertaking this project is ambitious given that Jesus made the brevity of his earthly ministry abundantly clear to his earliest disciples. On one occasion, he told them that he was determined to do the work of God “while it is still day” (Jn 9:4), thereby underscoring the limited time available for his in-person ministry. Since Jesus’ time for in-person earthly ministry was limited, a succession plan was necessary to ensure that his cross-cultural discipleship project would not culminate in failure. Thus, by promising his enduring presence, Jesus serves as a guarantor of the continuance of this project, partly through the agency of his disciples. In addition, the promise of enduring presence is a reminder of Jesus’ freedom and ability to empower and recalibrate the disciples’ lives and efforts as they carry out their deputed work in the world. Christians can have confidence in Jesus as a formidable guarantor because of his identity – the divine Logos that became a human being (Jn 1:1-15; Phil 2:5-11).

Jesus’ Identity and the Sphere of Deputation

As God incarnate, Jesus inherently possesses supernatural powers and authority, which he may choose to share or transfer to his disciples, empowering them to accomplish a range of activities as his proxies (Matt 16:15-20; 28:18-19). This claim adopts the mystery-based view, and not the myth-based view, of the Christian doctrine of the incarnation.Footnote ⁵ However, the divine and human natures interfaced and interacted to constitute Jesus’ being and personhood: He embodied divine life in both ontological and functional senses. The pivotal christological point in the idea of continuity by means of deputization is that it is not about Christians reproducing the teaching, works, authority, powers, or life of Jesus on their own terms and for their own gains. Rather, it is Jesus that acts through his disciples as the means of extending his teaching, authority, powers, and works to the world at large. Thus, Christians may only legitimately fulfill their deputized role under the auspices of Jesus.

Jesus’ sharing or transferring of his powers to his disciples is an ambiguous phenomenon. Andrew Walls’ (Reference Walls2002) remarks about this ambiguity are insightful. He said, “Vital as the church may be as a vehicle of Christ’s influence, it is stultifying to identify its influence with his” (p. 9). Exactly how, where, and when Jesus chooses to share his powers with his disciples and to act through them might not be established beyond a theological doubt. Yet, as I will show in Sections 2 and 3, Jesus encourages his disciples to seek and invoke his powers when undertaking tasks or encountering issues that are pertinent to the role of deputation and life of discipleship. At this point, I want to note that the act of sharing or transferring powers in the context of the sphere of deputation is analogous to a head of state, for instance, a country’s President transferring powers or delegating authority to ambassadors representing the president’s vision, mission, policy, and values in foreign nations. Where the sharing of powers is understood as a kind of deputation, the president can stand behind his ambassadors’ enactment of the powers conferred upon them. The president, of course, reserves the right to revoke such powers for varied reasons.

Nicholas Wolterstorff’s (Reference Wolterstorff1995) formulation of “deputized divine discourse” illuminates my understanding of Jesus’ act of sharing and transferring his powers to his disciples (pp. 42–51).Footnote ⁶ His conception of deputized discourse gives a useful analogy for how to understand the relationship between deputization and deputation:

Wolterstorff’s interest is, of course, not Christology but the relationship between God and a sacred text. His cursory reference to Jesus’ disciples and apostles was only to buttress his delineation between conveying someone’s message and being a deputation. He was careful not to equate the New Testament apostles, whom Jesus commissioned to do certain things in his name, with the Hebrew prophets whom God commissioned to speak in his name. According to him, unlike Jesus, the apostles were not prophets, and without substantive clarifications, should not be regarded as speaking in the name of God (Wolterstorff, Reference Wolterstorff1995, p. 51).

Wolterstorff’s cautious effort to distance the apostles from the Old Testament prophets is duly noted. Jesus commissioned his apostles and earliest disciples to speak in his name, rather than in the name of God the Father. Consequently, they de facto speak as God’s representatives only indirectly because of Jesus’ relationship with them. In other words, Jesus, who deputized them, spoke and worked for God the Father, and as such they can indirectly work for God. Only in following Jesus in discipleship, as Rowan Williams (Reference Williams2016) notes, can his disciples ready themselves to let “Christ’s action come through” them as “the Father’s action comes through him” (p. 17).

I should add that the classical Christian understanding of the Trinity points us to the fact that being a disciple of Jesus would involve following him to the perichoretic life that he shares with the Father and the Holy Spirit. Moreover, serving as Jesus’ deputation cannot be accomplished by bracketing off God the Father’s love and deputization of Jesus, or the Holy Spirit’s empowerment of Christian disciples. Jesus made this abundantly clear, as indicated in the Gospel of John: “Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained’” (Jn 20:21-22, NRSVUE). Christian disciples require the empowerment of the Holy Spirit to effectively serve as Jesus’ commissioned representatives.

Commissioned Witnesses and the Sphere of Deputation

The belief that Jesus possesses divine power and may choose to share it with disciples ought to be understood in the larger context of Jesus’ act of deputization (Jn 14:13, Mk 16:17). There is a correlation between this belief and Christians’ loyalty to Jesus as their Lord, Savior, Defender, Healer, and access to God. This is, of course, no blind loyalty. It is partly based on the belief that God raised Jesus from the dead, a pivotal tenet that may be understood as “the defining and indispensable foundation of the Christian faith” (Bockmuehl, Reference Bockmuehl and Bockmuehl2001, p. 102). It is equally based on their attempts to live up to the enormous task of being Jesus’ authorized deputation to the world. While conceding the centrality of Jesus’ resurrection to the Christian faith, many Christians readily present themselves and communal experiences as “evidence” that Jesus’ deputization of his disciples is integral to his continuing presence and requisite for continuing his worldwide discipleship vision in his post-earthly life. They see themselves as the bearers of Jesus’ good news message intended for the entire world. And they can embark on this task with confidence because of Jesus’ abilities to shore up their spiritual and cultural frailties.

How are Christians to exercise their deputized role while proclaiming Jesus’ gospel cross-culturally? Though the message of Jesus’ gospel is unmistakably Jewish in its cultural flavor, his earliest Jewish disciples, tasked with the demanding work of witnessing to all nations, came to the realization, as Lamin Sanneh (Reference Sanneh2008) argues, that the Christian faith is translatable, “fit for all seasons,” and “fit for all humanity” (p. 14). To effectively put this understanding of the Christian faith into practice, the early Christians relativized “all cultural arrangements” and de-stigmatized “all Gentile or taboo cultures” (p. 53). The early church leaders at the Council of Jerusalem (Acts 15) took the initial steps to create an important framework for the cross-cultural transmission of the faith that the Antioch experiment in missions prompted (Acts 15:1-5). For instance, in ruling against those who required the Jewish custom of circumcision of the Gentile believers, the council made it less likely for one dominant Christian community to impose its culture on others. Yet its robust deliberations set a precedent for future Christian leaders to address competing views on theological matters. In some ways, the goal of the council of Jerusalem was to ascertain theological clarity on a shared Christian identity between Jewish and Gentile Christians without shunning authentic diversity.

In contrast, European Christianity’s project of Christendom sought to suppress diversity among Christian communities elsewhere, particularly in Africa and Asia, aiming to erase unfamiliar and potentially dangerous cultural perceptions of the faith. To accomplish such endeavors, European missionaries fed the new converts to Christianity in foreign lands with European theological diets and prevented them from accessing local materials to formulate their own Christian theologies. For a time, zealous European missionaries attempted to impose their Christologies on foreign lands and converts with limited success. As Muriel Orevillo-Montenegro (Reference Orevillo-Montenegro2006) states, Western missionaries brought to the continent of Asia the “Jesus [who] had a superiority complex and became a stumbling block to the kinship of Asian religions. This Jesus came back to Asia not as a balikbayan, who comes home to reclaim Asian roots. Rather, this Western Jesus was a total stranger to Asia who despised the spirits, gods, and goddesses of Asia” (p. 11).

To bear witness in a cross-cultural setting, a Christian community need not abandon its own culture in favor of ancient Jewish customs, nor superimpose its own culture on other Christians. In the words of Andrew Walls (Reference Walls1996):

When understood within the context of the sphere of deputation, Christianity’s translatability raises the issue of how Christians can retain the faith’s core of devotion to Jesus while engaging in the cross-cultural transmission of the faith. A useful way to approach this complex issue is to recognize that having a relationship with Jesus is a precondition for becoming his authorized deputation to the world. One does not become Jesus’ authorized proxy by merely seeing him as a revolutionary or rabbi extraordinaire. In other words, devotion to Jesus in discipleship and submitting to his authority are necessary for participating in the deputized work.

There are christological implications for linking serving as Jesus’ authorized proxy and devoting him. To mention one example, Jesus’ deputization does not, by default, provide blanket immunity to Christians as they undertake the task of deputation. This brings into focus the issue of power differentials between Jesus and his disciples. He is not at the disposal of his disciples. He reserves the right to redirect and discipline his disciples when they act outside the provisions of his discipleship demands (Ezigbo, Reference Ezigbo2021, pp. 194–201). Consequently, when undertaking the work of deputation and proclamation of Jesus across culture, Christians should stay committed to the contents of his gospel message and way of life as represented in Christian scripture.

We might see Jesus’ establishment of a succession plan as a given because of the magnitude of the task of his cross-cultural discipleship vision. Speculating whether Jesus could have deployed his divine powers to bypass the use of human means is theologically fruitless, especially since he commissioned his disciples to serve as his deputation in the world. However, it is intriguing that he, the incarnate God, chose not the divine or supernatural means but human and ordinary means (his disciples) as an essential component of his succession plan. Jesus’ choice of human deputation as the vital component of his worldwide discipleship work showcases his preference for what Eugene Peterson (Reference Peterson2005), in a different context, calls “ordinariness.” Peterson is referring to God’s choice to be among humans through a human being – Jesus Christ. He notes that the “miraculousness” of this divine “miracle is obscured by the familiarity of the setting: the ordinariness of the people involved” (pp. 34–35).

In a similar vein, we might posit that Jesus, who is divine and human, in Christian parlance, opted for the ordinariness of human deputation to continue with his discipleship work. The risks of human frailties, vulnerability to sinful influences, and proclivity to misguided and selfish interests did not deter Jesus. He chose human and ordinary means as the primary agency for the realization and survival of the project of making disciples across the world. Therefore, both Jesus and his disciples inhabit the sphere of deputation and their integral activities within the bounds of the sphere produce insightful christological themes. In the next section, I investigate one such christological theme – Christians’ related acts of invoking and deploying Jesus’ powers.

The Roles of Invocation and Use of Jesus’ Powers within the Sphere of Deputation

The term “invocation” refers to the act by Christian disciples of calling upon Jesus to grant them his powers as his authorized proxies. It is a form of request that shows Christians’ recognition of the authority of Jesus and their reliance on him for the powers needed to confront difficult issues or situations. The term “use,” however, merits clarification because of its paradoxical connotations. This term could suggest either the exploitation of someone or something, or, conversely, the enlisting of someone or something’s service for a beneficial purpose. Specifically, it can refer to subjecting a subordinate to a particular end or invoking the powers of a superior to accomplish a task. For example, an ambassador (a political subordinate) of a nation can invoke the authority of the president (a political superior) to accomplish a duty in a foreign nation. This latter sense of the term “use” is foundational to the christological sphere of deputation explored in this Element.

A survey of Christian practices worldwide reveals that invoking and using the powers attributed to Jesus Christ is a widespread custom among believers. These acts are most prominent among Christian communities in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. Lian Xi (Reference Xi2010) noted that in China “popular Christianity in both its Protestant and Roman Catholic forms often emphasized healing, miracles, and similar abilities to harness the power of the spiritual world to the struggles of common people” (p. 230). Focusing on Latin America, Todd Hartch (Reference Hartch2014) observed that despite the suspicious and sometimes disdainful attitude of some critics, the reality of spiritual warfare, as well as experiencing physical and spiritual healing, permeates Latin American Christianity (p. 92). In the context of Africa, Elizabeth Amoah and Mercy Oduyoye (Reference Amoah, Oduyoye, Fabella and Oduyoye1988) have drawn attention to the powers of Jesus, which Christians invoke to confront both spiritual and physical needs (p. 44).

The common belief that Jesus can choose to honor his disciples’ invocation and use of his powers raises the question of veracity. To pursue this further, one might ask: Can Jesus’ disciples effectively invoke and use his powers – supernatural authority and abilities in particular? The operative word “effectively” requires delineation. If “effectively” means getting Jesus to respond positively to his disciples’ invocation and use of his powers by accomplishing exactly what they are seeking, the answer to the foregoing question should be in the negative. Conversely, if “effectively” is intended to convey Jesus’ ability to respond to his disciples’ imploring him to use his powers in the manner of his choosing, then the answer to the question should be in the affirmative. This is because serving as Jesus’ proxies in the world is no easy endeavor. Jesus made sure his disciples understood that formidable forces, which he described as the “gates of hell” (Matt 16:18), will attempt to impede their lives and deputized work. Aspects of their discipleship work can only be done by relying on divine powers (Matt 17:14-21, Acts 3:1-10). Put differently, there is no true deputation without Jesus granting authority and access to his disciples to act on his behalf.

Jesus’ disciples would need to rely on him to undertake the dyadic acts of invocation and use of his powers. For instance, the feat of miraculous healing, as Emmanuel Milingo (Reference Milingo1984) argued, “is basically a supernatural work, a continuation of the liberating, saving and protecting work of Jesus Christ” (p. 24). Milingo warned Christians against becoming “religious diplomats,” that is, those who appease the world by not taking the supernatural realm seriously and consequently “deny the full powers that Jesus has given them to overcome the world” (p. 52). For Milingo, Satan exists and is at work in the world. However, Jesus has given his followers “the means” to overcome Satan, Milingo insisted, with the caveat that they imitate Jesus’ life and reproduce it within themselves (p. 53). In his commentary on the practices of Christians in the southern hemisphere, especially Pentecostal and indigenous churches, Philip Jenkins (Reference Jenkins2002) remarked that they are not content merely to believe that the biblical stories “are literally correct narratives of events that occurred.” Rather, they go further by believing that the stories “are applicable to the present-day condition” and that Christians can participate in the process of similar events in the world today (p. 128). The acts of invocation and use of Jesus’ powers are central to Christians’ participation in his ongoing work through their agency. These acts, in other words, constitute an exercise in proclamation of Jesus’ powerful presence as a formidable defeater of the forces of darkness whose activities can interfere with his disciples’ work of deputation (Milingo, Reference Milingo1984, pp. 29–30; Wright, Reference Wright1994, pp. 13–23).

To grasp the christological content of Christians’ invocation and use of the powers of Jesus within the sphere of deputation, we need to see these acts as a dyad. Their differences should, of course, not be minimized. However, individually each of these acts exhibits, at best, only partial christological content. Without use, for instance, Christians’ act of invoking the powers of Jesus is simply an exercise in prayer. Relatedly, without invocation, Christians’ use of the powers of Jesus becomes a religious act that is devoid of his authorization. But taken together, invocation and use have christological content: They constitute a deputized enactment of Jesus’ presence by his disciples in their role as his authorized proxies in the world.

Christian disciples’ invocation and use of Jesus’ powers often stem from their attempts to solve mundane existential problems.Footnote ⁹ These actions also reveal two interrelated activities within Christian practice that carry significant christological implications. The first activity may be described as appropriation – what Christians make of their understandings of Jesus’ powerful presence in the world. Appropriation, here, can be said to have taken place when Christians draw a deep connection between their understandings of Jesus’ powerful presence and their own personal encounters with him. This includes the context of their experience of suffering and joy, emptiness and fulfillment, the state of sinfulness and the state of divine cleansing, powerlessness of human beings, and the formidable powers of Jesus over diabolic forces. Nevertheless, this must preserve Jesus as the principal determiner: He alone determines what and how he operates in Christian communities. A Christian community that makes a claim on Jesus’ securement of God’s salvific blessings cannot determine the nature and the way he accomplishes this considerable feat. In fact, Jesus alone can set the specific goal of securing such salvific blessings on behalf of his own disciples.

The second activity that underlies Christian disciples’ invocation and use of Jesus’ powers is deployment – the diverse ways in which Christians utilize Jesus or bring him into action to accomplish a given task. An example is a Christian community’s choice to deploy Jesus as an extraordinary force to induce certain results, such as countering a hateful aggressor, forming a religious alliance, eliciting political votes, defeating a formidable diabolic force, and securing God’s favor. One might ask: Are the phenomena of Christian disciples invoking and using the powers of Jesus to address mundane existential needs christologically important? I believe so. Several reasons might have hindered their recognition and exploration as essential elements of Christology. I will briefly outline five reasons.

First, the idea of Christians’ use of Jesus’ powers for their own purposes might be viewed as irreverent or blasphemous. Second, there is a real danger of misconstruing Jesus’ presence in the church. As Hans Frei (Reference Frei2013) noted, this may take the form of confusing one’s own presence with the presence of Jesus Christ – that is to say, the projection of one’s own identity onto him (p. 95). Third, the relationship between theology and philosophy, especially in systematic theology, has had a profound impact on the field of Christology. Many theologians, especially in the West, have developed Christologies that are often beholden to the supremacy of rationality, which seek maximum cohesion and dispel christological approximations (Adams, Reference Adams2006). In discussing the ontology and function of Jesus, such theologians rely heavily on metaphysics and logic. However, resources from disciplines such as anthropology and sociology may be better suited for the theological exploration of Christians’ activities of invoking and using Jesus’ powers.Footnote ¹⁰ Drawing upon insights from Hans Frei (Reference Frei1992), I suggest that social anthropology is more helpful to Christology than philosophy when studying the beliefs and practices of the church as a cultural community.Footnote ¹¹ It is rare to see courses in ethnographic research, qualitative analysis, and quantitative analysis in theology curricula. This is a major deficiency that is beginning to attract the attention of contextual theologians. Fourth, the invocation and use of the powers of Jesus by Christians are inherently subjective. It is extremely challenging to regulate these practices, given the diversity of human circumstances. In many cases, how Christian communities invoke and use Jesus’ powers often varies according to their specific contexts. Fifth, Christians’ invocation and use of Jesus’ powers can create a quagmire for theologians seeking the so-called “metatheology” – that is to say, theological universals or an “understanding of transcultural truth revealed in Scripture,” which should be accepted by most, if not all, Christians irrespective of their contexts (Hiebert, Reference Hiebert, Ott and Netland2006, p. 306).

Although these are significant reasons, they should not prevent the pursuit of the christological value of Christian deputized enactment. To further discuss the contextual interpretations that characterize Christians’ deputized enactment of Jesus’ presence, I explore the following question: Does Jesus’ deputization de facto provide blanket immunity to Christians’ acts in the context of their deputation? To put the question differently, can Jesus endorse or ignore actions of Christians that violate an aspect of his teaching when undertaken in the context of deputation? The question carries significant christological implications. The uncertainty surrounding how Christian disciples access and exercise Jesus’ powers makes it necessary to differentiate between authorized deputation and unauthorized deputation.

Discerning Authorized Deputized Enactment

Like the other three spheres of ontology, function, and significance, the sphere of deputation is fraught with christological problems. Therefore, theologians who excavate the christological materials within the sphere of deputation need to navigate christological landmines. An example of such a landmine concerns the issue of Jesus’ disciples going rogue while undertaking their deputized role. The issue is, of course, not unique to the sphere of deputation. In the field of theology, for example, theologians have already contended with the fact that human beings can deviate from their responsibilities as God’s stewards in the world. This issue arises in the discourse on divine providence amid the difficulty of distinguishing the relationship between God’s and human beings’ activities in a specific event. Similarly, Jesus’ disciples have the potential to go rogue – deviating from their appointed roles while engaging in their deputized responsibilities. When this occurs, it constitutes an unauthorized deputation, and any actions Christians undertake in this context are, by definition, forbidden. Therefore, Christians who willfully engage in unauthorized deputation are essentially rebellious disciples.

How, then, are Christians to discern and identify authorized deputation? Showing beyond a shadow of doubt, the work that Jesus performs in his post-earthly existence through the proxy of his disciples in specific events is important, but not essential to the sphere of deputation. What is essential is deciding whether a particular work belongs to the category of authorized deputation. To give an analogy from the world of sports, for example, soccer (or football as most of the world describes this sport), it is extremely difficult to determine whose action is the sole reason that a team scores a goal. However, we can know, given available rules, if a given goal is legitimate or unauthorized. When a team scores a goal that is legitimate, we may not know whose action is the sole reason for the outcome. For instance, one may ascribe the reason for the goal to the tactical ingenuity of a coach who sets up a team in a particular formation. Players who affected the phases of play and passes leading to the goal, even by maintaining an advantageous position without touching the ball, also deserve praise. The player who made a final pass leading to the goal deserves praise. The scorer deserves praise as well. The opposition team that failed to prevent the goal contributed, albeit unwillingly, to it. Although we might not be able to precisely state the sole cause or reason for the goal, we can determine whether it is authorized or unauthorized based on the established rules of the game.Footnote ¹² If the scorer were in an offside position, the goal would be ruled unauthorized. Analogously, in a given Christian act of deputation, it might not be possible to say with precision what role that Jesus has played in the process. However, it is possible to decide if the act belongs to the category of an authorized enactment of Jesus’ presence based on his teaching and scriptural testimony.Footnote ¹³

An effective way to determine whether a particular act by Christians constitutes an authorized, deputized enactment of Jesus’ presence is by subjecting it to the test of his gospel. Within the context of the sphere of deputation, Christians must examine their actions against the standard of what Jesus claimed the “Spirit of the Lord” anointed him to accomplish (Lk 4:16-21; cf. Isa 61:1-2; Acts 10:38). As these scriptural passages show, the substance of Jesus’ gospel is to make God’s liberative activity accessible to those whose lives are the embodiment of sad news – both those who reject God’s authority and those “confined to the netherworlds of empire” (Rieger, Reference Rieger2007, p. 16).

Despite humanity’s disruptive and sinful actions, God is committed to the mission of healing and shepherding the broken world to bring about its wellness. Jesus, whom the New Testament presents as the embodiment of this good news, summed up its key components in the following way: the proclamation (through words and actions) of God’s providential care to the poor, the captives, the blind, and the oppressed (Lk 4:18-19; Isa 61:1-2; Lk 7:22-23). In this context, the terms “poor,” “captives,” “blind,” and “oppressed” encompass both spiritual and physical dimensions of the world’s brokenness. People who are spiritually bankrupt do not submit to God’s lordship and sovereign reign over the world. Those who are in a state of physical brokenness (e.g., material poverty, captivity, blindness, and oppression) lack the necessities of life such as liberty, food, shelter, and medication. When people have access to the necessities it is an indication that they are experiencing the physical dimension of the world’s wellness.

Conversely, the terms “freedom,” “recovery of sight,” and “the year of the Lord’s favor” represent both the spiritual and physical dimensions of the restoration of the world to a healthy condition. People who submit to God’s lordship, sovereign reign, and righteousness are in the state of spiritual wellness. These spiritual and physical dimensions of the world’s brokenness and wellness intersect. It is worth noting that this spiritual dimension can lead physical wellness, and physical wellness can foster spiritual health (Prov 30:7-9). Christians need to attend to both dimensions, for it is essential to their deputized role and the life of discipleship as a whole.

I want to further explore a christological question regarding the Christian authorized deputized enactment of Jesus’ presence in the world. For example, who is Jesus when understood within the context of Christians’ deputized role, especially their acts of invoking and using his powers? A christological image that might emerge is that of a figure anointed by God (i.e., divinely authorized), who in turn anoints his disciples as proxies to continue the work assigned to him. In other words, Jesus’ deputization of his disciples signals a connection between his claim of divine anointment and the commission he gives his disciples to further his work in the world. Jesus appropriated the text from Isaiah 61, claiming that God anointed him to bring the good news of liberation to the spiritually and materially poor, imprisoned, and enslaved. From this, we can infer that by commissioning his disciples to deputize for him, he effectively anointed them to proclaim the same liberative message to all those in need – the spiritually and materially poor, the imprisoned, and the enslaved.

One of the key distinguishing teachings of Christianity is that God’s eternal Word became a human being – Jesus of Nazareth (Jn 1:1-14). This teaching, expressed through various christological formulations, affirms the intersection of the supernatural and natural worlds. Notably, both the doctrine of the incarnation and the belief in relations between the spirit and human worlds derive from Christian scripture. While early Christian theologians used Greek and Latin concepts to articulate their understanding of the incarnation, their primary aim was to elucidate scriptural teaching concerning Jesus for their own communities. Christians from societies whose indigenous religious systems similarly conceptualize the relationship between the spirit and human worlds often explore their deputized role by inviting Jesus into these contexts. By invoking and using Jesus’ powers as his proxies in the world, they demonstrate their beliefs in his ability to defeat diabolic human and supernatural powers.

The phenomenon of Christians enacting Jesus’ presence in their deputized role evokes essential christological insights that might be missed when examined only from the spheres of ontology, function, and significance. For instance, one might assert, based on these three spheres, that Jesus, as God incarnate, inherently possessed divine powers with which he performed miraculous works. However, if we extend this christological analysis to include the sphere of deputation, we can further assert that the divine powers of Jesus, or some aspects thereof, are shareable, transferable, and communicable. Indeed, he shares his powers with his disciples, whom he has authorized and commissioned to serve as his deputies in the world.

There is an interesting parallel between the words of Luke in Acts 10:38 and the words that John ascribes to Jesus in John 20:21-22. Both writers noted the role the Holy Spirit played in the process of divinely authorized works. God the Father anointed Jesus “with the Holy Spirit,” empowering him to “do good works” (Acts 10:38, NRSVUE). Similarly, Jesus sent his disciples and “breathed” the Holy Spirit on them (Jn 20:21-22). Here, we can discern another christological insight that emerges from the sphere of deputation. We should not limit the works of Jesus to what he accomplished by himself during his earthly ministry. On the contrary, christological conversations should include the works that Jesus accomplishes through deputization – authorizing his disciples to serve as his proxies in the world. This insight has profound effects on Christian Christologies, particularly the informal, grassroots Christologies of ordinary believers. I will explore this claim in the next section, using Nigerian Christianity as a case study.

Jesus the Ọtụmọkpọ: An Unfiltered Expression of Jesus’ Divine Powers

Christologically, ọtụmọkpọ denotes Jesus’ divinity and spiritual powers. It is possible to explore Jesus’ divinity without dwelling in abstraction. For instance, his divinity – both in ontological and functional senses – may be examined from the perspective of his works and experiences, which demonstrate his powers over diabolic forces. To state this claim differently, Jesus’ works, which can only be accomplished by divine powers, can testify to his divine identity and attributes. Christian scripture shows that it is no easy feat to overcome the works of Satan such as leading people into disbelief about God’s work through Jesus, causing demonic possession that might result in health issues, poverty, and untold human suffering (Jn 8: 39-59, Matt 11:2-6). Yet Jesus not only counters Satan and his demonic agencies but empowers his disciples to act on his behalf.

As his authorized proxies in the world, the earliest disciples of Jesus witnessed the manifestation of his powers over satanic and demonic activities. For example, Luke noted that the seventy-two disciples whom Jesus sent out returned from their ministry with joy, saying: “‘Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!’ He said to them, ‘I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. Indeed, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven’” (Lk 10:17-20, NRSVUE). Many Christian communities today believe that the early disciples’ experience of the formidable powers of Jesus over satanic and demonic activities was not limited to antiquity. On the contrary, this experience is available to all of Jesus’ disciples, albeit subject to his determination and authorization. As Philip Jenkins (Reference Jenkins2002) rightly observes, many Christian communities in Africa and other parts of the southern hemisphere do not see the world of the early Christians described in the New Testament as “a historical account of the ancient Levant, but an ever-present reality open to any modern believer, and that includes the whole culture of signs and wonders” (p. 128).

The tendency among contemporary theologians, especially systematic theologians, to readily appeal to early conciliar statements on Jesus can lead to a lesser appreciation for the contribution of basic, unfiltered, and unstructured portrayals of Jesus to the field of Christology. The author of the epistle to the Philippians provides a vivid example of such a portrayal of Jesus, which was in the form of a christological ode or hymn (Phil 2:6-11). The hymnlike passage portrayed Jesus in dialectical ways: He was in the form of God and yet appeared as a man, he was equal with God and yet a servant, and he was subjected to the horror and shame of death on a cross and yet was exalted by God. These untidy and unfiltered representations of Jesus are emblematic of the informal grassroots Christologies found in the songs, prayers, testimonies, and devotions of Christian communities.

Larry Hurtado (Reference Hurtado2003) described these basic portrayals of Jesus expressed in Philippians 2:6-11 as constituting a “striking innovation for which we simply have no precedent or analogy in the patterns of cultic practices and scruples of Jewish religious circles of the first century” (p. 138). For Hurtado, Jesus-devotion did not amount to “a separate cultus to Jesus as another deity, after the pattern of Roman paganism.” Instead, “Jesus was characteristically reverenced by early Christians as part of their worship of the one God of the biblical tradition” (p. 138). Furthermore, commenting specifically on the content of Phil 2:6-11, Hurtado wrote: “it illustrates this focus on Jesus, lauding his prehistorical status ‘in the form of God’ and his breathtaking self-abnegation even to the point of crucifixion, and then proclaiming God’s exaltation of Jesus to an equal status that entitles him to universal reverence” (p. 148). Christologically, this Philippian passage exemplifies the freedom and creativity of the earliest Christians by employing informal descriptions, whether in prose or poetic form, to express their exalted view of him.

Drawing on themes from Philippians 2, Nigerian Christians’ invocation of Jesus as an ọtụmọkpọ showcases similarly basic, unfiltered, and unrefined portrayals of Jesus in highly exalted terms. This christological act expresses the belief in Jesus’ divine powers. Put differently, confessing that Jesus is, analogously, ọtụmọkpọ to his disciples is to concede that he possesses spiritual and divine powers. Upon close examination, ascribing the title ọtụmọkpọ to Jesus represents an informal christological attempt to display his supreme authority over the formidable powers of unclean spirits and diabolic forces. Jesus is presented as bravely entering the territories of these powers and defeating them on their own grounds on behalf of his disciples.

An evangelistic undertone can also be detected in the christological act of describing Jesus as an ọtụmọkpọ. By using this term for Jesus, Nigerian Christians engage covertly in what David Lindenfeld (Reference Lindenfeld2021) described as “spirituality housecleaning,” designed to purify and “cleanse religion of its superfluous, distracting, or corrupting elements” (pp. 16-17). The deaconess who called Jesus ọtụmọkpọ ndị nsọ (“the believers’ talisman”) intended by her response to show that he possesses supreme authority. Therefore, he can help Nigerians in their spiritual predicaments and quests. She directed her subtle evangelistic outreach to two distinct groups: first, to Christians who engage in the proverbial double-dipping, appealing to both the powers of Jesus and the magical powers of ọtụmọkpọ, and second, to adherents of Nigerian indigenous religion, nudging them to embrace Jesus as the true supreme power.

From the deaconess’ response, Jesus’ divinity is a given – a clear indication of her acceptance of the traditional view that he is God incarnate. Her focus was on what Jesus does with the divine powers that inhere in him as a divine being. In other words, the language of ọtụmọkpọ is not a statement about the ontological or metaphysical status of Jesus’ identity per se. Rather, it is a way of portraying his divine powers concretely in the context of precarious life situations. It is not atypical for Christians who do not have formal theological training to locate discussions on Jesus’ divinity in their personal encounters of his powers in their lives. This is, of course, not peculiar to Nigerian or African Christianity. To bring in an example from the Asian context, Chan (Reference Chan2014) in his Grassroots Asian Theology remarked: “The issue of the divinity of Christ is resolved in different ways. Sometimes, the truth of who Jesus is comes from answered prayer, such as during personal crisis. Many Christians in Asia testify that what convinced them of the truth of the gospel was an experience of divine healing or seeing a relative healed” (p. 91).

When discussing Jesus’ divine powers in the context of spiritual warfare, two extremes, both of which fail the test of scripture, should be avoided. One such extreme is the outright dismissal of diabolic spiritual forces. In this view, the existence of these forces, including their capacity to possess human beings, operate through human agencies, and inflict harm is relegated to the realm of myth and superstition (Bultmann, Reference Bultmann1951, pp. 144–154). This mindset of incredulity and disdain toward the existence of the demonic and forces of darkness fits what Charles Taylor (Reference Taylor2007) has described as a characteristic of the secular age that is operating with an “immanent order,” which brackets off the interference of the transcendent world with humans’ self-sufficiency and autonomy (p. 543). The West’s secular age operates with a form of humanism that provides people with a way to relegate the beliefs in eternity and transcendence without giving up a ‘moral project’ – a vision and task that give significance to [their] survival” (Smith, Reference Smith2014, p. 60). In this secular context, seeking answers from supernatural unseen powers and demonic forces is viewed as constituting the prescientific way of understanding mental health conditions, people’s evil thoughts, and societal evil structures (Arnold, Reference Arnold1992, p. 89).

The other extreme that fails the test of scripture is to explain all human experiences of misfortunes, illness, poverty, and unexplained deaths as the direct consequence of demonic and diabolic forces. The first extreme is commonplace in the Western world’s post-Enlightenment age, and the second extreme is prevalent in Africa. Both extremes are theologically untenable in light of the teachings of Christian scripture, especially regarding the life, ministry, and experience of Jesus. Nuance is warranted when dealing with these two extremes. The pivotal issue is whether to classify, without any exceptions, all psychological illnesses, evil inclinations, and evil societal institutions merely as natural human phenomena without recourse to the supernatural realm. From a theological standpoint, there is no clear and unequivocal criterion to determine when a given malaise is of supernatural origins. Yet the absence of such a yardstick does not provide theological grounds to attribute all maladies to the realm of natural processes or, conversely, to the supernatural realm.

Unlike Western colonialism and cultural imperialism that left indelible marks on Africa, the West’s secularism, which came into contact with Africa primarily through the media and western education, has not made many inroads into African ways of life. Africa’s religiosity and indigenous worldviews, despite the lingering effects of Western colonialism and cultural imperialism, have remained comparatively unscathed. This condition of religiosity in Africa has implications for Christology and all theological discourses undertaken in the continent. The Christology intended for present-day Africa should deal with Jesus’ divine powers in relation to the realms of supernatural and human diabolic agents. If we exclude conversations about how Jesus wielded his powers against the forces that opposed him, we undermine scripture’s attestation of his formidable and liberative powers over the forces of darkness. Relatedly, if we minimize Jesus’ ongoing confrontation with the forces of darkness, we leave his disciples confused at the points where they ought to be decisive in tackling the consequential impacts of the activities of such evil or demonic powers on their lives, communities, and the world at large.

Jesus’ supremacy over supernatural diabolic forces, as well as the potential impacts of these forces on Christians, is attested in the New Testament. Ephesians 6:11-17, for instance, provides a case study of how early Christians, after Jesus’ earthly ministry, expected to confront the realm of principalities and powers (Satan and his demonic agents). They viewed these forces as partly responsible for the presence and persistence of evils in the world (Arnold, Reference Arnold1992, p. 34). Couched in military parlance, the text admonishes the followers of Jesus to arm themselves with the “armor of God” so as to withstand the “wiles of the devil” (Eph 6:12, NRSVUE). They must draw resources from God’s armories (truth, righteousness, faith, salvation, and word of God) to overcome or protect themselves against the ferocious attacks emanating from “the cosmic powers of this present darkness” and “against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph 6:11-17, NRSVUE).

Jesus did not commission his disciples to carry out a deputized role in an arena free from difficulties and spiritual warfare (Matt 17:14-21, Jn 15:18-25). It is noteworthy that Jesus instructed his disciples to leave behind their tendency to seek refuge in familiar people and things that might distract them from fixing their eyes on him (Lk 14:25-34). In giving this admonition, Jesus drew his disciples’ attention to two related lessons: He is their deputizer and their protector as they undertake the work of deputation in the world. Interestingly, Jesus’ deputization of his disciples does not insulate them from the adverse effects of the principalities and powers of this world; he himself was not insulated from such powers. His experience of intense temptations and crucifixion, as depicted in the Gospels, testifies to the impact of the principalities and powers of this world on his life and ministry. Interestingly, Jesus did not deploy his powers as a brute force in dealing with the powers of this world. Instead, he disclosed his supernatural powers through humiliation, suffering, and self-sacrifice. This is not an act of capitulation: He did not fail to withstand the formidable powers of this world. Rather, it is an act of self-kenosis: He chose not to use his powers solely for his own advantage and personal gains (Phil 2:6) and focusing on the betterment of humanity, especially its spiritual condition.

There are various types of ọtụmọkpọ, some of which can be worn as a necklace or a wristband. Interestingly, some churches encourage their members to embrace practices such as wearing consecrated wristbands, putting on stickers, and anointing cars and homesteads with oil, among other things, to successfully engage in spiritual warfare (Gukurume & Taru, Reference Gukurume and Taru2020, p. 280). The word “analogous,” which I have used consistently to bring Jesus and ọtụmọkpọ into the same christological space, implies parallel things with both similar and dissimilar traits. The acts of invoking and deploying Jesus as an ọtụmọkpọ signal that he is a formidable power against harmful spiritual forces. This is the sense in which Jesus might be described as an ọtụmọkpọ. However, ọtụmọkpọ is a magical object, an amulet. Conversely, Jesus, even when he is construed as the ọtụmọkpọ par excellence, is not, and should not be used, as such.

In summary, using the powers of Jesus as a magical object is an egregious breach of the covenant relationship that, as 1 Peter puts it, bought with his “precious blood,” clearly invoking his experience on the cross (1 Pet 1:18-19). The divine powers that Jesus possesses, which he has unleashed for the salvation of his disciples and is unleashing for their holistic wellness, are intrinsically connected to the culmination of his earthly ministry on a cross. Therefore, Christians’ acts of invoking and using Jesus’ powers should not be disassociated from his experience on the cross and victory over diabolic forces. Invoking and using Jesus’ powers, as I will show, invariably require expressing faith in him.

Ọtụmọkpọ and Christians’ Expression of Faith in Jesus

This Igbo Christian song evokes memories of my childhood in southeast Nigeria. I often heard it at our home during family prayers and at church services. The song is a heartfelt plea for God’s help when one’s faith is faltering amid turbulence and uncertainties in life. Upon closer examination, the song expresses one’s faith in Jesus Christ. This faith enables a Christian to hope and anticipate being in the presence of the risen Christ, both in this present life and at the end of life. Here, “faith” does not refer to a form of belief that signals “the sort of knowledge one has if sufficient evidence is lacking” (Powell, Reference Powell2005, p. 92). On the contrary, I define faith theologically as human beings’ search for the meaning of human existence beyond the realm of human autonomy and without contempt for God’s authority or bracketing off the belief in God as the maker and sustainer of the world. In other words, faith in this sense evokes a particular way of believing, requiring the use of one’s cognitive capabilities in the pursuit of the purpose, meaning, and telos of human existence. Yet this pursuit requires rejecting a form of self-reliance that closes all doors to the belief in God and God’s interaction with the world.

For Christians, the God in view is the being whom Jesus Christ represented, whose mission he embodied, and on whom he depended for vindication after his crucifixion (Phil 2:5-11). Therefore, in Christian theological parlance, faith in God ought to be understood as a form of believing in which a believer relies on Jesus to reveal and interpret the mystery of God’s relationship with humanity. If faith is human beings’ audacious act of moving beyond the domain of human autonomy in search of the meaning of their existence, then it follows that its main theological challenge is to preserve human autonomy without contempt for God’s authority and relational demands. Metaphorically, we may describe the uncharted frontier between the two disparate arenas of human autonomy and God’s authority as the deep space in which human beings can either discern or miss God’s presence. This “deep space,” to Christians, is approachable precisely because of God’s kenotic act of incarnation, the self-emptying act of concretizing God’s presence in Jesus of Nazareth (Jn 1:1-14; Gal 4:4-7; Phil 2:5-11). The encounter between humans and God can only occur when two related acts are present: first, God’s act of giving Godself to humanity in the mystery of the incarnation (Phil 2:5-7), and second, the self-giving act of human beings, who subject their autonomy to God’s authority.

The christological framework presented here can be summarized as follows: By describing Jesus as an ọtụmọkpọ, Nigerian Christians display their confidence and faith in his spiritual and divine powers. In this context, the central christological implication of the concept of faith is that it can point people to the gravitational grace of God’s kenotic act of incarnation, which pulls them towards God’s presence in Jesus Christ. Thus, without God’s kenotic act of incarnation, Christians’ act of faith can only lead them to wander hopelessly and aimlessly around the deep space frontier between humanity’s autonomy and God’s authority. It is the gravitational pull of God’s kenotic act of incarnation on human beings that can aid Christians in continually heeding the apostle Paul’s admonition to Timothy to avoid promoting “controversial speculations” and to focus on “advancing God’s work – which is by faith” (1 Tim 1:4, NIV). The powers of Jesus, invoked in the act of naming him ọtụmọkpọ, should equally redirect Nigerian Christians towards Jesus as God’s agent for understanding, imagining, and interpreting God’s providential work in the world.

Ọtụmọkpọ and the Repositioning of Jesus as God’s Agent

The notion of ọtụmọkpọ thrusts to the surface Jesus’ agency in God’s providential work in the world. Christians tend to speak confidently about God’s providential mission in the world because of Jesus. They believe the words of Jesus about his oneness with God in relation to his works and life (Jn 10:22-39; 14:5-14). The controversies on the ontological constitution of Jesus, which revolve around the relationship of divine and human natures, might obscure the ways in which Jesus’ life and works reflect God’s providential activities. Despite these christological debates, the scriptural narratives attest to Jesus’ role in God’s work in the world.

Returning to the concept of ọtụmọkpọ, it is an agency that accomplishes (or is believed to accomplish) the tasks set by its maker and owner. When applied analogically, ọtụmọkpọ underscores that Jesus is God’s effective emissary in the world. Jesus engaged in works that God the Father authorized and empowered him to do (Jn 5:18-30). It is essential to rediscover the role that Jesus plays as God’s agent in providential activities. The expression “providential activities” refers to God’s ongoing work of healing the world’s brokenness. This divine work encompasses restoring the sinful world to good health by confronting ungodliness emanating from both supernatural and human spheres. Rediscovering Jesus as God’s agent for providential work would remind Christians that all spheres of human life need divine providential activities. Consequently, God’s providential activities extend to both natural and supernatural arenas. Jesus showed God’s commitment to shepherd and heal the spiritual and physical dimensions of the world’s brokenness. Through his life, experience, and miraculous deeds, Jesus proclaimed God’s good news to the world. In the sphere of deputation, Jesus continues this work through the agency of his disciples, who act as his proxies.

The entrance of Jesus into Nigeria’s indigenous religious worldview has significantly altered the religious landscape of the nation. Christians’ proclamation of Jesus’ life, teaching, and work has extended to all facets of Nigerian society. At times, this has engendered intense friction, as members of these religious communities feel compelled to reassert or reinforce the boundaries and values of their faith traditions (Vaughan, Reference Vaughan2016; Vinson, Reference Vinson2017; Ezigbo, Reference Ezigbo2021).

The primary concern, however, is how the entrance of Jesus into the indigenous world of Nigeria has created theological problems for the Christian theologian. Specifically, it is about dealing with context-driven questions that Nigerian Christians, whose lives are entangled with Nigerian indigenous worldviews, pose to Jesus. For instance, they might ask: How effective are Jesus’ powers against the spiritual and unseen agencies that work against human flourishing? It would not be sufficient to rely on imported foreign Christologies for responses to this question, given that their contextualized christological concepts might be unfit for the Nigerian context. Neither would using a local metaphor to convey or translate the Christologies of foreign origins be sufficient. One might use the notion of ọtụmọkpọ to express the christological belief that Jesus has the divine powers that are superior to diabolic powers with which Nigerian Christians are concerned. However, a much deeper christological issue is at stake. For example, one must delineate how the concept of ọtụmọkpọ constitutes a christological material that can contribute to and expand the Christologies of Nigerian Christianity. One such contribution is recognizing that the question about Jesus’ divinity and divine powers cannot be settled on the metaphysical frontier alone but also, in the context of Nigeria, on a praxis-oriented frontier.

The notion of ọtụmọkpọ challenges Nigerian Christians to concede that the world of supernatural diabolic powers truly exists. This notion also requires that if Jesus serves as a formidable ọtụmọkpọ for his disciples, then it ought to be demonstrated that he can defend them against diabolic threats. The core of the issue arising from the notion of ọtụmọkpọ, which is relevant to this Element’s concept of the sphere of deputation, consists of two aspects. The first aspect is whether it is christologically appropriate, in relation to both Christianity and Nigerian indigenous religion, to say that Jesus is a commanding presence whose divine powers can dwarf and overcome demonic forces that pose serious threats to human flourishing. Since I have previously discussed the appropriateness, as well as the necessary parameters for using ọtụmọkpọ in christological discourse, I will now turn my attention to the second aspect of the christological usage of ọtụmọkpọ: namely, the impacts of Nigerian contexts on the informal, grassroots Christologies of Nigerian Christianity.

Naming, invoking, and portraying Jesus as an ọtụmọkpọ is simultaneously christological and contextual. It is important to highlight the contextual factor that underpins christological materials embedded in some Christians’ declaration of Jesus as ọtụmọkpọ. These Christians use this non-Christian and nonbiblical term, on the one hand, to express their faithfulness to Jesus; on the other, it articulates their confidence in him amid their crises of faith. The pervasiveness of diabolic forces and existential challenges has heightened this crisis. To accomplish these two related yet distinguishable christological activities, these Christians must contend with the contemporary context of Nigeria. As those familiar with the situation in Nigeria can attest, it is a society characterized by the ubiquitous presence of religious worldviews, as well as poverty and violent crime. Additional challenges include religious persecution, particularly in the northern region, kidnapping, ritual killings, an unreliable healthcare system, and chaotic governance in all areas of Nigeria’s political arena. Many Christians believe that the condition of Nigeria requires divine intervention. They see the ubiquitous presence of the forces that constitute existential threats to their lives and practice of the Christian faith.

In the face of seemingly insurmountable social problems, many Nigerian Christians seek supernatural solutions. This is partly because such Christians view these problems as connected to supernatural forces and believe they cannot be solved by human efforts alone. Consequently, they feel the need to invoke and deploy Jesus’ formidable powers. In the Christology of these Christians, Jesus might be construed as the ọtụmọkpọ par excellence: he possesses superior powers that can successfully confront the spiritual sources or sustainers of the menacing societal ills in Nigeria. During communal fellowship, Nigerian Christians’ determination to invoke Jesus for the strength and power to confront health issues, insecurity, and large-scale poverty permeates all communities.

Another notable contextual theme, which is evoked by a christological usage of ọtụmọkpọ, is the freedom to express the reality of Jesus with resources from one’s cultural context. A common thread traversing Sections 1 and 2 is the claim that Jesus encouraged his disciples to articulate their understandings of him from within their own contexts. This is one of the primary thrusts of Jesus’ famed question described in Mark 8:29: “But who do you say that I am?” Each cultural context, however, generates profound and distinct christological tasks. To deal with these tasks, Christians should not pose as foreigners to their own cultural contexts. They should emulate the earliest Jewish believers who accepted the rulings of the Jerusalem Council and did not abandon their Jewish identity for the sake of proclaiming the gospel to the Gentiles (Acts 15). Rather, they resolved, as Lamin Sanneh (Reference Sanneh1989) has noted, to destigmatize the Gentile cultures, making them, like the Jewish ones, the hosts of Jesus’ gospel as well as the instruments for communicating its message (pp. 1–2). A major consequence of this decision by early Christians is that the Gentile world received the gospel of Jesus in a translated form, utilizing local cultural resources such as language and idioms. This precipitated what Andrew Walls termed “the Ephesian moment – the social coming together of people of two cultures [Jewish and Hellenistic] to experience Christ” (Walls, Reference Walls2002, p. 78).

Moving beyond this initial and brief encounter between Jewish and Gentile cultures, the Christian faith has taken on new forms of expression in its encounters with other cultures of the world. Walls observed that in the twentieth century and beyond, another “Ephesian moment” has occurred with notable diversity: “we no longer have two, but innumerable, major cultures in the church” (Walls, Reference Walls2002, p. 78). This diversity is not merely cosmetic. Rather, it permeates and frames the polycentric identity of the Christian faith, defining its expression across cultures, both within formal, academic Christologies and informal, grassroots portrayals of Jesus among ordinary Christians. The implication of this situation for the sphere of deputation and the field of Christology is the main subject matter of the following section.

Features of Grassroots Christology

I will discuss the unique contributions that grassroots Christologies of ordinary Christians can offer the academic field of Christology and vice versa. However, before discussing the contributions, it will be helpful to describe the essential features of grassroots Christologies. Among the essential features that characterize grassroots Christologies, indigeneity, orality, informality, and lived experience are noteworthy. I will say brief words about each of these features.

Indigeneity – local contexts are indelibly stamped on all Christologies. Therefore, grassroots Christologies are intrinsically linked to the contexts of Christian communities. Admittedly, theologians are prone to universalizing christological issues in their pursuit of well-refined and universally significant Christologies. Some theologians who are preoccupied with the so-called universal Christian theological identity have become disenchanted with the contextual theologies that draw attention to local theological issues of Christian communities across the globe. Although this disenchantment is understandable, it is misguided and unwarranted. The local provenance of Christology is unmistakable. Both the principal subject of Christology (Jesus of Nazareth) and Christology itself (the diverse reflections and portrayals of him) are shaped by the particularity of a locality. The traditional Christian doctrine of the incarnation holds that the divine Logos became Jesus, a figure of Jewish provenance (Jn 1:1-18, Gal 2:4-6). His teaching and experiences bear the marks of Jewish history, religious aspirations, socioeconomic realities, and political conditions.

Grassroots Christologies are rooted in issues confronting local communities and affecting the masses, many of whom do not have formal theological training. Ordinary Christians bring Jesus into the complexities of daily life – hope and hopelessness, wealth and poverty, peace and conflict, religious freedom and persecution, good health and poor health, to name a few areas. As such, the grassroots Christologies of ordinary Christians are inexorably informal, locally grounded, and oral in nature. In their Christologies, they praise, offer prayer, engage in dialogue, and express their confidence in Jesus, their lord, based on their actual experiences of him.

Orality – although some grassroots Christologies have been catalogued in written form (Kollman, Reference Kollman and Hanciles2021, p. 71), the majority remain in oral forms such as in folk songs, extemporaneous prayers, impromptu sermons, and testimonies. Grassroots Christologies are in constant flux because they arise from ordinary Christians’ encounter with or experience of Jesus. To cite one example, the ecclesial tradition that is classified under African Indigenous or Instituted Churches (AICs) has been instrumental in bringing attention to the role that oral theologies play in African Christianity. Pobee (Reference Pobee1989) argued that the oral theologies of AICs tell the “story of manifestations of the power of God in healing, exorcism and glossolalia, precisely gifts which Christ bequeathed to his church, but which are somehow put in abeyance by established Christianity” (pp. 88–89).

A grassroots Christology offers two important lessons for academic theologians. First, it encourages them to listen not only to well-developed theologies but also to the oral Christologies of ordinary Christians. Second, it urges them to pay close attention to the diversity of the Christian faith, which is the outcome of its genuine encounters with different cultural contexts. In some of these cultural contexts, formal Christologies (local or foreign) have little or no influence on the theological imagination of many ordinary Christians.

Informality – related to orality is the informal nature of grassroots Christologies. Typically produced beyond the walls of academia, the Christologies are primarily for the consumption of ordinary Christians, some of whom may have little interest in, or may even outright resent, academic theologies. These Christologies emerge, sometimes as an impromptu reaction to situations warranting divine help. They can be the product of a literal interpretation of scriptural texts that discuss the life, experience, teaching, and miraculous works of Jesus. They are being worked out in real-life situations, sometimes without much recourse to formal theological systems, sophisticated reading of scripture, and official church teachings

Grassroots Christologies contain relevant raw materials that merit excavating, processing, and utilizing in formulating Christologies that benefit the overall theological health of Christian communities. In a sense, ordinary Christians in their grassroots Christologies intentionally or unintentionally bypass the complexities of academic Christologies, compressing them into terse and unwritten sayings that reflect their daily life experiences and exigencies.

Lived experience – as Kwame Bediako (Reference Bediako2004) rightly argues, theology can be present “where faith lives and must live continually, in the conditions of life of the community of faith” (p. 9). Bediako’s aim is to reposition lived theology, grounded in lived Christian experience, as a distinct and valuable form of theology within broader theological discourses. It is, of course, commonplace for theologians to assess the viability of a particular theological idea or model by subjecting it to the guild’s academic canons. For example, theologians might test their christological ideas at academic conferences, where they are expected to embrace criticisms that could improve the quality of their work. While some might remain beholden to academic and peer-driven conversations, others might attempt to bring their theological ideas from the elitist and specialized arena down to the lived experiences of ordinary Christians.

Conversely, the grassroots Christologies of ordinary Christians are stress-tested in the daily uncertainties and complexities of life, including poor health, excessive wealth, political instability, poverty, wars, terrorism, human trafficking, and other challenges. The common tendency of ordinary Christians is to appeal to their personal experience of Jesus and not to discuss classical ontological statements on his identity. It is likely that when ordinary Christians are pressed to give a reason for holding a particular belief about Jesus, they might respond with the simplicity exemplified by the blind man whose sight was restored. “He put mud on my eyes. Then I washed, and now I see” (Jn 9:15, NRSVUE). In other words, they may simply invoke a lived experience as the warrant for holding specific beliefs about Jesus.

Facilitating mutually beneficial exchanges between the informal, grassroots Christologies of ordinary Christians and academic Christologies is a pivotal challenge in this era of world Christianity and the increasing influence of contextual theology. One of the ways to deal with this issue is to explore the question: What service can informal grassroots Christologies render to the academic field of Christology and vice versa? I propose that academic Christologies should not be done in a manner that is detached from the world of ordinary Christians and the informal Christologies they create. Similarly, ordinary Christians’ informal Christologies can benefit from aspects of the refined and structured christological discourse of academic theologians.

Grassroots Christology and Its Contributions to the Field of Christology

A grassroots Christology presents a particular challenge, especially for theologians unaccustomed to ethnographic research. Contextual theologians with training in ethnographic research may study grassroots Christologies to identify important christological resources that are embedded in the everyday expressions of ordinary Christians. These resources can be found in songs, extemporaneous prayers, varied applications of scripture, and the activities that reflect their work as deputed representatives of Jesus. I now turn to the question: Can grassroots Christologies render any significant service to the academic field of Christology? The answer, in my view, is a resounding yes. I will delineate two contributions: First, grassroots Christologies can generate essential raw christological materials, and second, they can function as a useful compass for regulating the relevance of academic christological discourses to the church at large.

A grassroots Christology is a generator of christological raw materials. It is a locus of raw christological data for the construction of well-refined Christologies and as such constitutes a source of christological knowledge. Such unrefined christological materials could be in the form of beliefs, assumptions, christological questions, and practices that Christians ascribe or direct to Jesus. These materials might reflect an undisciplined act of inculturation in which ordinary Christians freely assimilate the biblical depictions of Jesus into their national ethos (religious and nonreligious) as well into the fabric of their daily Christian lives.

Ordinary Christians tend to experiment with christological ideas and beliefs without engaging in sustained, robust theological reflection. They might knowingly or unknowingly borrow christological ideas from different church traditions. They might also experiment with non-Christian religious ideas or nonreligious ideas in a syncretic way. To cite an example that Philip Jenkins (Reference Jenkins2002) mentioned in The Next Christendom:

It might be tempting to dismiss certain views of Jesus or expressions of Christianity that arise from uncritical syncretism. While this may appear expedient, such judgments should not be made without first considering the underlying factors that have shaped them.Footnote ²⁰ A dismissive attitude toward the grassroots Christologies of ordinary Christians does a great disservice to the theological health and spiritual wellness of churches. This is because grassroots Christologies are a part of the daily staple that sustains their Christian life. Consequently, theologians ought to devote time to the inner workings of grassroots Christologies and grapple with the impacts of specific contexts on grassroots Christologies.

Extracting and interpreting the raw resources contained in the informal, grassroots Christologies of ordinary Christians will, of course, require knowledge of each community’s context – cultures, history, and contemporary life situations (Ezigbo, Reference Ezigbo2021). To employ these resources within formal christological discourse, in turn, demands proper knowledge of both academic and grassroots theological domains. Therefore, theologians who engage with grassroots Christologies need to demonstrate a thorough grasp of their inherent complexities, while remaining steadfast in assessing and correcting any possible errant perceptions of Jesus.

Understandably, academic theologians face a considerable disadvantage when they enter the nonacademic realm of ordinary Christian communities, particularly if they lack skills or experience in ethnographic research. On the one hand, while this move is brave and commendable, these theologians may soon discover that ordinary Christians are sometimes wary of scholars whose advanced theological ideas risk stifling the joy of knowing or following Jesus without formal theological complexities. On the other hand, the theologians might be tempted to speak for such Christians without learning to listen to them or undertaking the necessary ethnographic study of their understandings of Jesus. In other words, theologians might be too quick to arrogate to themselves the power to speak for ordinary Christians in christological matters, without duly grasping their needs, aspirations, and beliefs. This is a grave theological error.

To avoid imposing overly complex interpretations of Jesus on ordinary Christians, theologians should see informal, grassroots Christologies as a regulator of the relevance of formal Christologies within the church. This is because grassroots Christologies can effectively reveal the felt needs of Christian communities and display the spiritual yearnings of ordinary Christians. These yearnings include the desire to relate to Jesus in an authentic manner and to understand his unique place in their lives. They can signal the quest of ordinary Christians to understand or deepen their relationship with Jesus as his disciples. Put differently, these Christologies can function as a valuable indicator of the condition of a church’s spiritual health, particularly among ordinary Christians. Thus, grassroots Christologies constitute a compass that helps theologians maintain a clear course toward the actual needs of the members of a local church, rather than focusing primarily on the needs of the academic guild.

Christian theologians ought to resist the pressure to prioritize their obligations to the academy above their commitments to the church. One might even say the primary reason that Christian theology exists is not to serve the academy but rather to serve the local church and Christian communities at large (Vanhoozer, Reference Vanhoozer, Ott and Netland2006, p. 99). By listening and attending to the needs that are embedded in grassroots Christologies, theologians can rediscover theology’s perdurable task of naturing – that is to say, its work of clarifying for Christians how they are to conduct themselves in accordance with the teachings of Jesus “as a way of living out their commitment to him” (Ezigbo, Reference Ezigbo2021, p. 36). It should be clear, therefore, when academic theologians develop Christologies that overlook the pressing questions and needs of ordinary Christians, they risk becoming irrelevant to a larger portion of the church and abandoning its vulnerable members needing theological guidance.

Just as the discourses in the academic field of Christology need grassroots Christologies to refocus theologians’ attention on their obligations to the church, grassroots Christologies, in turn, need insights from formal Christologies to address misconceptions about Jesus. Among the many ways that the field of academic Christology can enrich the grassroots Christologies of ordinary Christians, I will single out two areas for discussion: The first concerns christological clarifications, and the second relates to intercultural theologizing.

Academic Christology and Its Contributions to Grassroots Christology

Christians lacking formal theological training often find themselves ill-equipped for the christological reasoning and interpretative frameworks necessary to scrutinize inadequate perceptions of Jesus. Nevertheless, such skills are of paramount importance, as informal, grassroots Christologies are often produced by Christians who may be unwary in complex theological matters. In many cases, through assimilation or syncretism, Christians may integrate their faith with indigenous religious beliefs or blend it with the ethos of their nations. For example, it is now widely recognized that European colonialists, in their plundering and exploitation of the Americas, Africa, and Asia, often acted under the auspices of official ecclesiastical sanction. The colonialists and their collaborators, as Rieger (Reference Rieger2007) has noted, identified “Christ with the purposes of conquest” (p. 182). In the contemporary United States of America, it is quite difficult to separate what Kathryn Tanner (Reference Tanner2019) calls the “new spirit of capitalism” and Christian teachings on wealth and private ownership (Grudem & Asmus, Reference Grudem and Asmus2013).

To cite an example from African Christianity, the relationship between Jesus and individuals who claim to possess supernatural powers often reveals convoluted interpretations of Jesus in informal, grassroots Christologies. Afua Kuma’s oral and grassroots Christology characterizes Jesus as the “Great Magician,” who dispatches his priests to liberate those bound in chains by the devil (Reference Kuma2022, p. 72). As argued in Section 3, a lurking danger exists in employing ọtụmọkpọ as a title for Jesus – namely, equating his powers with magical powers. One respondent, Rev. Nzeako (May 18, 2006), rejected ọtụmọkpọ as an appropriate title for Jesus partly for such reasons. “Ọtụmọkpọ ndị nsọ or Odeshi ndị nsọ; all these [names] are just African traditional religion finding its way into Christianity,” he insisted. “Jesus is not ọtụmọkpọ. Jesus is not odeshi. You should know about odeshi. It is connected to the magical power of the Bakassi boys. Jesus is more than that; he is the Savior of the world.”Footnote ²¹

The foregoing examples show the need for sound Christologies. Theologians can help in this regard by clarifying for ordinary Christians what constitutes adequate or inadequate understandings of Jesus. They can also assist ordinary Christians in applying christological thinking to their efforts to address existential needs. This should neither be an exercise in gaslighting nor a repudiation of the assumptions, beliefs, and practices of ordinary Christians. Rather, theologians can provide solid and well-refined christological foundations to ordinary Christians’ practical application of the Christian faith and perceptions of Jesus to the context of their life situations. What is required in this situation is a theological scrutiny of the ideas and beliefs that propel grassroots Christologies to reveal whether their adequate or faulty understanding of scriptural teaching on Jesus’ life, work, significance, and Christian deputized enactment of his presence.

I wish to return briefly to an aspect of my discussion on ọtụmọkpọ in Section 3. Any lingering perception of Jesus as possessing a supreme supernatural power, which his disciples can invoke and deploy when and how they choose, should be subjected to christological scrutiny. African Indigenous Churches and Pentecostal movements in Africa have facilitated the spread of this perception of Jesus’ life and work across the continent. This perception, however, could be a product of a poor or literal reading of the biblical teachings on the supernatural world and the attempts to fortify one’s prayers to Jesus, viewing him as a formidable force that can protect his followers against diabolic powers. It could equally be the effect of the pervasiveness of African indigenous religious practices (Mbiti, Reference Mbiti1991, p. 15; Olupona, Reference Olupọna2014, p. 122), particularly the practice of inducing, harnessing, and utilizing supernatural powers for one’s own benefit.

Regardless of the reasons for construing Jesus as a formidable force that his disciples can control, theologians have the responsibility to show that this understanding of Jesus is christologically and biblically deficient and untenable. Jesus is the one who deputizes his disciples and acts through them as his commissioned representatives in the world. He does not function as a magical power. Therefore, since ọtụmọkpọ is a magical object, its use as an analogy for Jesus is permissible only insofar as it does not compromise his identity as God incarnate, his ubiquitous presence, or his supernatural powers. Beyond identifying the faulty underlying beliefs that might be present in specific informal grassroots Christologies of ordinary Christians, theologians should also develop viable corrective measures, which are grounded in sound knowledge of the religious, political, sociocultural, and economic challenges shaping the lives of Christians.

The axis of the sphere of deputation, which embraces an interaction between academic Christologies and informal grassroots Christologies, raises profound questions about the nexus between diversity and unity of Christian theological identity. This issue arises in part because of the growing differences that characterize Christian communities even among those belonging to the same church traditions. However, it is an issue that sheds light on another important way in which the theologians who engage in intercultural theologizing can improve informal, grassroots Christologies. Specifically, such theologians may draw upon the insights they gather from the diverse imagination, perception, and concretization of Jesus that are the result of sustained exchanges between different Christian theological communities. It is now common to find competing theological beliefs among Christian communities that identify themselves as Evangelical, Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Lutheran, and Pentecostal.

The issue of Christian theological unity has also arisen partly because of the viability and nature of theology’s legislative function. Whether this esteemed function is inherent to Christian theology or superimposed on it by Christian communities complicates the issue. Throughout the complex history of Christian theology, the ideas of orthodoxy (a body of sound beliefs) and heresy (inadequate or false beliefs) marked the theological lines between what is acceptable and unacceptable in Christianity. Both the ecumenical and nonecumenical ecclesiastical councils pursued this legislative function of theology with vigor. Anathemas were sometimes pronounced upon the people who defied an ecumenical conciliar theological decree. For instance, those who disagreed with the theological rulings of the Council of Chalcedon (451 CE) were physically assaulted, as exemplified by the experience of the Coptic Monophysite Christians who suffered at the hands of the Melkites (Frend, Reference Frend1972, pp. 272–276; Meinardus, Reference Meinardus1999, pp. 52–55). Christian theology’s legislative function is noteworthy because it is a double-edged sword. It is praised by some and loathed by others. It has the capacity to improve relationships within and across Christian communities; yet it can be very divisive, creating suspicion and rancor both within communities and across the global church.

Contextual theologians, ecumenists, missiologists, and missionaries all concern themselves with Christian theological identity and unity. Many might share Patrick Henry’s (Reference Henry and Bednarowski2010) sentiment that “unity does not require uniformity; indeed, it is allergic to it” (p. 281), thereby emphasizing the value of diversity within Christianity. In their activities of deputation, Christians undertake their tasks from their own contexts. This is partly due to the fact that “new theological questions arise because of the new cultural contexts in which the Christian faith finds a home” (Walls, Reference Walls2006, p. 16). Theologians might also explore the diverse portraits of Jesus that emerge from other Christian communities. I suggest that the sphere of deputation can bring into clearer focus the christological differences that characterize the Christian faith. However, one might ask: Is it possible to maintain christological differences and theological multiculturalism without risking balkanization? Furthermore, how might theologians effectively address what Charles Taylor (Reference Taylor2012) described as a “multiculturalism challenge,” which arrogates the status of “fully normative” to a group of people based on “historical descent” (p. 415)?

Taylor was, of course, not dealing with a theological matter but rather with the usages of multiculturalism and interculturalism in the context of what he describes as “the never-ending Canada-Quebec imbroglio” (p. 413). Interculturalism may be understood as the by-product of effectively harnessing the strengths inherent in multiculturalism. Yet the issue of normative status is important to the diversity-unity discourse. Judith Gruber (Reference Gruber2018) puts it in this way: “A theological accounting of faith thus demands that we relate the normative unity of faith to its plural testimonies and consider the normativity of formulations of Christian identity in relation to their historical and cultural contingency” (p. 11). The possibility of a clash of identity markers and the potential for this clash to result in hostility are always on the horizon whenever people from divergent ecclesial and theological backgrounds convene. The reasons for the clash of identities and the potential for hostility are complex, and might include the quest for power and control, maintaining purity boundaries, asserting a community’s relevance, and pleasing stakeholders. Recognizing grassroots Christologies as a major contributor to the academic field of Christology, as I have proposed in this section, would enable theologians to embrace christological differences and explore constructive ways for handling clashes of theological identities that multiculturalism might generate.

The quest for transcultural and trans-contextual theologies that can perform the legislative duty of governing all contextual theologies of local Christian communities is a lofty ideal (Hiebert, Reference Hiebert, Ott and Netland2006, pp. 305–308). However, how might this lofty ideal be pursued? Two broad pathways represent how theologians can undertake this task. A uniformity pathway necessitates the pruning of theological diversity, fostering a unitary or universally binding theology. This could be achieved through an amalgamation of local theologies into a single entity or an enactment of enforceable ecumenical councils’ theological rulings (e.g., the Council of Chalcedon, 451). Yet theologians ought to resist the erroneous assumption “that difference is threatening, fanatical, harmful, and negative while uniform agreement is sound, inclusive, and enlightened” (Sanneh, Reference Sanneh2003, p. 6). Conversely, an ensemble pathway maintains theological diversity and preserves the equality of all Christian communities, while still pursuing theological integration. This could be achieved through the pursuit of universally shared creeds, confessions of faith, and dogmas. Another preferred means is the creation of a shared theological space with defined boundaries marked by Jesus’ life and devotion to him.

How, then, are we to do Christology in ways that robustly retain the diversity of Christian portrayals of Jesus in local Christian communities without derailing the conversation on the complex and elusive, but valuable issue of theological unity within the worldwide church? Responding to this question would require attending to what constitutes the scope and contents of theological unity, as well as the approaches to achieving it. In dealing with the contents of theological unity, we might ask: What does theological unity look like in practice? Regarding a viable approach to achieving theological unity, we might ask: How exactly are diverse and disparate Christian communities across cultures to pursue the lofty task of a global Christian theological unity? And, of course, theologians need to avoid hiding behind the commendable notion of theological unity while attempting to erase diverse theological understandings that are the hallmarks of Christianity. Or, as Kevin Vanhoozer (Reference Vanhoozer, Ott and Netland2006) says, theologians should avoid using “one rule to rule them all” (pp. 85–126). Vanhoozer’s goal is to call the attention of theologians, systematic theologians in particular, to “the church’s global context and to remind [themselves] that no language or culture has a monopoly on God, the gospel, or theology” (p. 91).

For some theologians, the response to the question about what theological unity looks like is “metatheology,” which means universally binding theologies that transcend local theologies (Hiebert, Reference Hiebert, Ott and Netland2006, p. 306). However, the real issue is, exactly what constitutes this metatheology? Hiebert seems to locate its content within the frame of method: “we need a metatheology, a theological reflection on how local theologies should be done and how to mediate the dialogue among them” (p. 306). This methodological undertaking is complex and requires guardrails such as affirming that “Scripture is divine revelation,” differentiating divine revelation and “human understanding expressed in theologies,” recognizing that theologies are done in human contexts, seeing the “church as a multicultural “hermeneutical community,” and relying on the “guidance of the Holy Spirit” (pp. 306–307). Heibert’s goal is to avoid what he identifies as two dangerous extremes: to “undercontextualize” and “overcontextualize” the Christian gospel message (p. 297).

If we are to speak of a metatheology at all, it should not be about a methodological procedure or a specifically constructed theology, as Heibert has suggested. It would make more sense, in my view, to speak of a metatheology only in the context of an embodied divine life, Jesus Christ, the incarnate God. To put it pointedly, Jesus of Nazareth personifies and embodies the essential content and frame of reference for Christian theology. He should be the determiner and regulator of what Christians believe and say about God. In the words of John Mbiti (Reference Mbiti1971), Christian theology “falls or stands on how it understands, translates, and interprets Jesus Christ, at a given time, place, and human situation” because he is God incarnate (p. 190). Since no Christology or theology can encapsulate or exhaust the mystery of the incarnation, it is misleading to speak of a metatheology in the context of the Christian faith other than Jesus Christ.

I have suggested elsewhere an alternative way to imagine theological unity, namely, a theological space that is commonly shared, albeit with revisable theological principles and goals (Ezigbo, Reference Ezigbo2015). These principles, which include an other-referential mindset and globally shared theological issues, are useful for facilitating communal devotion to Jesus, albeit in ways in tune with the contextual realities of local Christian communities. An example of shared theological goals is to discern and assess insights that will emerge as diverse Christian theological communities converse on how best to understand and embody Jesus’ gospel in their communities. This goal should be explored in a commonly shared theological space that is based on a christological core – Jesus Christ and devotion to him. The animating force propelling and sustaining this christological core comprises both primary and secondary elements, both of which have been preserved by the ancient Jewish church. The primary elements are the actual life experiences of Jesus of Nazareth and his teaching. The secondary elements are theological beliefs, for example, the monotheistic belief that reinforces devotion to Jesus (Sanneh, Reference Sanneh1989, p. 36; Hurtado, Reference Hurtado2003, p. 138). These elements are necessary for maintaining the communal bond between Christian communities across the globe, nudging them toward mutual theological exchanges and dialogues.

Central to my proposal about a shared theological space in which Christians can exchange ideas in the spirit of theological unity is the notion of intercultural theologizing (Hollenweger, Reference Hollenweger1986; Ustorf, Reference Ustorf, Cartledge and Cheetham2011; Ilo, Reference Ilo2017; Moe, Reference Moe2019; Marzouk, Reference Marzouk2019; Lourdunathan, Reference Lourdunathan2022). By “intercultural theologizing” I do not mean the erasure of differences and assimilation of different theologies, resulting in uniformity. On the contrary, it entails robust mutual interactions through the process of “dialogic theologizing” that requires honest and respectful conversations and mutual exchanges between diverse and sometimes disparate Christian theological communities (Ezigbo, Reference Ezigbo2015, pp. 452–472). Intercultural theologizing can be of immense value to ordinary Christians, as it offers opportunities to expand their own Christologies by learning from the Christologies of Christian communities in other cultures.

In summary, the sphere of deputation calls for a vibrant dialogue between academic christological discourses and informal, grassroots Christologies. Through such engagement, academic Christologies can positively shape the understandings of Jesus among ordinary Christians, drawing from the rich diversity of insights that emerge through ongoing interactions among various Christian communities. It may be tempting to ask: What ought not to be a goal of theological unity when measuring the extent of one’s loyalty either to the diverse identities of local Christian communities or to a global Christian identity? This is unfortunately misleading and misguided. The identities of local Christian communities and the worldwide church should not be pitted against each other. In some ways, this is what the apostle Paul warned against in his epistle to the Corinthians (1 Cor 1:10-17). Nevertheless, the pursuit of theological unity should not be a means to exert the influence of dominant theological communities over those with less historical theological status and economic influence. Neither should it be a covert way to erase diversity within Christian theological identities. Approaches, therefore, are as important as the content of theological unity in intercultural theologizing. The miraculous nature of the Christian doctrine of the Incarnation and the mystery that shrouds it should remind Christians that all Christologies and theological interpretations of Jesus are approximations. When different Christologies are brought into dialogic communication within a shared theological space for mutual exchange and critique, a major goal ought to be to draw out sharable insights that theologians can disseminate to their local Christian communities with the aim to improve the quality of grassroots Christologies.