Open and Relational Theology — A Cordial Response
On Love, Freedom, and the God Who Meets Us in Relationship
Conversations about theology, especially the nature of God, divine love, and God’s relationship to the world, can certainly stir passionate discussion. Many of us care deeply about these matters because they shape not only our beliefs but also how we understand ourselves and go about our being in the world, and in no small part, in relation to the Sacred. Recently, I came across a reflection critiquing an apparent strand of “relational theology.” The author expressed gracious disagreement with how some contemporary theologies frame God’s relationality and how they engage (or fail to engage) classical (medieval and scholastic) and patristic voices.
I appreciate the sincerity behind such reflections. They arise, I think, from a desire to honour the Christian tradition, protect the mystery of God’s character, and maintain theological clarity in an age when doctrines can feel fluid or contested. And I share the author’s desire for clear definitions, responsible engagement with our sources, and the mutual respect required when we hold deep differences.
At the same time, I believe the discussion revealed some misunderstandings, not out of malice, but out of the natural difficulty of trying to describe a large and diverse theological family with a single brushstroke. The label “Open and Relational Theology” covers far more ground and contains far more diversity than many realize. And just as relational theologians can sometimes oversimplify the classical or patristic traditions, critiques of ORT can sometimes do the very same in reverse.
As I begin, the terms “open” and “relational” are used by many people in many different ways. The author did not explicitly identify his target as the formal scholarly movement known as Open and Relational Theology (the umbrella term used in the American Academy of Religion). It is entirely possible he was responding to individual theologians who describe themselves as “open” or “relational” in a more general or popular sense. My concern is simply that the critique, as written, does not clearly distinguish between that broad informal usage and the specific, nuanced family of theologies gathered under the ORT big tent.
Before going further, perhaps another caveat: I do not presume to speak for every expression within the Open and Relational big tent. ORT includes a wide, sometimes wildly diverse range of theologians—from analytic philosophers to process thinkers, from evangelical open theists to evolutionary mystics. What follows reflects my own understanding shaped by my study, peers, and experience to date.
It is out of a shared desire for clarity, charity, and honest engagement that I offer the following response.
Open and Relational Theology Is Not a Monolith
“Relational theology” is a broad term. But Open and Relational Theology—the formal scholarly designation—refers to a big tent of thinkers. Within that tent include the likes of:
Open theism (Boyd, Sanders, Hasker)
Process theology (Whitehead, Hartshorne, Cobb)
Essential Kenosis / Amipotence (Oord)
Evangelical relational theologians
Feminist, womanist, liberationist relational approaches
Progressive and mainline relational theologians
Panentheistic evolutionary theologians
and more!
There is no single ORT doctrine, and no universally shared metaphysical system. Diversity is not a flaw; it is part of the movement’s theological vitality. “Relational” describes a shared conviction—not a single schema—that God is genuinely responsive, present, and lovingly engaged with creation in ways that involve genuine reciprocity.
Because ORT is a family of theologies, critiques aimed at one cousin shouldn’t be applied to the whole household. What one theologian says about the Trinity, the Cross, divine emotion, or omniscience is not automatically representative of ORT as a whole.
To critique ORT as though it were a theological monolith—especially around claims like “ebb and flow in God’s relational love”—is simply to misidentify the movement, as many ORT thinkers would reject this expression of Divine Love.
What Open and Relational Theology Affirms, Generally
Though ORT is diverse, several core affirmations unify its various streams:
God is relational.
Not metaphorically, not analogically, not as accommodation. God genuinely gives and receives love. God and creation mutually influence one another. To be clear, it is God’s experience that is influenced, not God’s unchanging essence of Love.
The future is open.
The “open” in ORT refers to the nature of time. Future events are not specifically predetermined and, as such, have not happened yet; therefore, they are not knowable as fixed facts—not even for God. That being said, God knows all possibilities exhaustively and perfectly.
Creatures have real, though limited, freedom.
Our choices matter. They shape what becomes. While our choices are shaped by previous actions and experiences, and by the regular patterns we see in the world, we are not puppets in a pre-written script.
For many ORT thinkers, God’s essence is constant, unwavering, self-giving love.
This is where ORT, classical theology, and the Patristics often agree: God cannot not love. God’s nature does not fluctuate, diminish, or retreat.
Many, if not most, ORT thinkers agree that God’s love is non-coercive.
ORT rejects coercive omnipotence. Divine power is best understood as self-giving, others-empowering love. Though not universal within ORT, Thomas Jay Oord’s idea of Amipotence describes the unControlling, unspeakable power of God’s love.
God’s experience changes, but God’s nature/essence of self-giving love does not.
Because God is genuinely relational and because of the reciprocal nature of God's relationship with creatures, God’s experiences change in relationship with creatures. God experiences our joys and our pain. God is a co-suffering God, or as Process founder Whitehead suggests, “God is the great companion—the fellow-sufferer who understands.” This does not imply divine fickleness—no more than a parent suffering with their child implies the parent is somehow unstable.
ORT does not teach that God’s love (essence) “ebbs and flows.” Instead, God’s essence is unchanging love. However, God’s experience is relationally affected by creation.
A Couple of Thoughts on Translation and the Evolution of Omnipotence
The meanings of words, including theological terms, develop across time.
For example, the Latin omnipotens was introduced widely through St. Jerome’s translation of El Shaddai in the Vulgate. The Latin term “omnipotent” carries metaphysical assumptions not native to Hebrew thought. This doesn’t villainize Jerome; it simply illustrates how translation shapes theology.
Many Jewish scholars argue convincingly that El Shaddai does not mean all-powerful or all-controlling—certainly not in the later philosophical sense. Jewish tradition resists the idea of a God who unilaterally controls all things. God is profoundly powerful—but not coercively all-powerful. This aligns with the Hebrew portrayal of God as powerful within relationship, not over against it.
When ORT thinkers question omnipotence, they are questioning the translation trajectory with its metaphysical assumptions about God’s power. They are resisting the picture of God as all-controlling or coercive,and instead,they embrace a self-giving, non-controlling God.
Why ORT Pushes Back on Classical (Medieval and Scholastic) Ideas About Omnipotence — and What Omnipotence Has Become in the Western Pew
Many ORT thinkers push against classical omnipotence because of our commitment to creaturely freedom and integrity of love. If God has all the power in a unilateral sense, then creatures have none. If we have no real power, then moral responsibility collapses. It follows that we would have no power to choose or act any better.
Personally, for me, an even deeper problem arises:
An all-powerful and all-controlling God who could unilaterally prevent every tragedy, and explicitly chooses not to, is morally complicit in every instance of suffering. This is a pastoral crisis, not a theoretical one. It is one of the reasons many have abandoned Christianity. In a sense, the big idea of omnipotence in no small part creates the theodicy.
ORT offers a different vision: God’s power is love-shaped, others-empowering, and non-coercive. God is always at work decisively in the world, but always in ways that honour creaturely freedom and the relational integrity of creation.
God is extraordinarily powerful—but not all-controlling. God’s awesome power is unrelenting, self-giving love.
Why ORT Often Engages Western (Medieval and Scholastic) Christian Traditions Rather Than the Patristics
It does appear, in practice, that much of ORT work is responding to:
Western Roman Catholic theology
Protestant scholasticism
American evangelicalism
literalist or determinist frameworks
the after-effects of Calvinism and fundamentalism
I suspect the reason for this is that these represent the traditions most people of faith in North America live within and, as such, many struggle to make sense of.
Perhaps ORT scholars and pastors engage with them because this is where their pastoral work actually happens. I am not sure ORT ignores the Eastern Orthodox tradition or the patristics. It may simply mean ORT scholars are meeting people where they are, in the more predominant religious contexts in the West.
That being said, the Church Fathers provide a treasure of theological wisdom and insight, and I would encourage continuing to raise these voices to the fore. At the same time, I’d encourage those within ORT to engage these voices through an Open and Relational theological lens. (I might just be looking in the mirror ;-))
Both ORT and the patristic tradition recognize that Scripture speaks with multiple voices. The Church Fathers read the Bible through layered lenses—literal, moral, allegorical, Christological—seeking meaning that was never merely flat.
At the same time, they interpreted Scripture within the philosophical frameworks and cosmology of their era. Just as Aquinas represents a theological moment shaped by Aristotle, the Cappadocians represent a moment shaped by Neoplatonism, Stoicism, and pre-scientific cosmologies.
This does not diminish their insight. It simply recognizes that revelation unfolds through history, evolving culture, new scientific discoveries, and our collective experiences. Theology is always the work of real people, pickled in real worldviews.
ORT stands in continuity with this long unfolding, even as it seeks to integrate contemporary insights from cosmology, relational psychology, complexity science, and evolutionary theology.
A Shared Vision: God Is Love
In the end, I suspect there is a lot we can agree:
God’s love is constant and unwavering.
God never abandons us.
The Cross reveals the deepest truth of God’s heart.
Experiences of distance say more about us than about God.
My hope is simply that we can recognize that Open and Relational Theology is a broad, nuanced, and deeply thoughtful conversation—and that within this wide tent of perspectives we share a profound commitment to the God-who-is-Love.
May our differences sharpen rather than separate us. And may our mutual desire be not to “win” theology, but to become, more fully, people of love.
Sola Caritas,
𝞃Michael
For those interested in learning more about Open & Relational Theology:
This list is certainly not exhaustive and probably reflects my own bandwidth within Open & Relational Theology.
Beautifully written, Michael! Thanks!
Relational Theology: A Category That Doesn’t Hold
The author is right that “relational theology” covers a wide array of thinkers. But that’s exactly why the label fails. If the only common thread is that these views sit outside classical doctrine—and if they share neither method nor metaphysics—then “relational” isn’t a theological category. It’s a catch-all.
Open theism, process theology, feminist theology, womanist theology, liberation theology, evangelical “relational” models—these do not arise from the same questions, assumptions, or aims. They have different understandings of God, different understandings of time, different understandings of power. Grouping them under one heading hides those differences and adds nothing to analysis.
That leads to a second point.
Not everything that borrows theological language is actually theology. Some projects are primarily social or political in origin. Womanist theology, for example, grows from the marginalization of Black women and seeks recognition, justice, and social repositioning. Those aims deserve respect, but they are not a doctrine of God. Relabeling every grievance-based movement as “a theology” drains the word of substance.
If each of these views must be examined on its own—and none shares a coherent framework—then they should be treated as distinct proposals, not as branches of a supposed “relational” family. The author’s own repeated qualifiers (“many but not all,” “some but not universal”) show the problem: the term doesn’t unify anything.
If there’s no shared metaphysics, no shared doctrine of God, and no shared method, then “relational theology” is not a tradition. It’s a coalition. And coalitions aren’t categories.
The honest approach is simple:
If you want to defend open theism, defend open theism.
If you want to defend process thought, defend process thought.
If you want to defend feminist or womanist voices, defend them on their own terms.
But folding them into a single “relational” tent suggests coherence where there is none.