-D

-D

I hold that men and women are equal in dignity, worth, and status. Both men and women are created fully in the image of God, both have equal access by faith in Christ to all of the blessings of salvation in Christ, and thus, both are fully children of God, adopted into God’s family. By union with Christ, both men and women have been raised up with Christ and seated with Him at God’s right hand (Eph. 2:1-10). However, I also hold that husbands have headship over their wives, that is, they properly exercise authority over them (1 Cor. 11:3-16; Eph. 5:21-33; 1 Peter 3:1-7; Colossians 3:18), and I believe that women are not to teach men or exercise authority over them in the church (1 Tim. 2:8-15). Thus, women should not be elders and overseers in the church. God has designed men and women such that they wonderfully complement each other by having different roles and gifts. Neither is inferior or superior, but God did not ordain some kind of bland sameness for men and women.

Such a view does not go unopposed today, whether in the church or in the culture at-large. Whether it is a majority theological view probably depends on how one is counting, but it matters not. What matters is that I arrived at this interpretation of Scripture by some means, and I believe I am correct in this interpretation. How did I arrive at it? And upon what basis am I confident that my interpretation is correct?

As an undergrad at UCLA, I had never considered the issue of “men’s and women’s roles” in the church. I didn’t even know it was a biblical controversy, for I had never read the texts that touched on it. The issue came up for me when our Christian group on campus sponsored a lecture in our dorms entitled: “Is Christianity Sexist?” The woman who gave the talk argued, quite naturally, that it isn’t and she supported this contention mainly with her interpretations of Genesis 1-2, the Proverbs, the way Jesus treated women, and some selected texts from the New Testament letters. I thought she had covered things quite well, but when I asked one of my non-Christian dorm mates what she thought of it, she quipped: “That’s her interpretation.” Somehow this sparked me to consider whether the speaker had done a good job of addressing the topic. How could I find out?

I turned to a little article that one of my professor’s wrote on women, slavery, and power back in the first century. He argued that women now had the same roles and power that men had in the church, and he based this on a better coverage of texts than the woman speaker had. I read his article carefully and then read all of the New Testament texts on the topic that I could find. Then I went and visited this professor in his office hours – the only UCLA professor I ever visited in his office – and asked him to clarify his article for me. He did so, and recommended a book to me for further study.

The book was entitled, Women, Authority and the Bible, by Alvera Mickelson. This book was full of scholarly articles from modern Protestant writers, defending the view that men and women were entitled to the exact same roles within the church. The book provided an exegetical and hermeneutical exposition of every biblical passage on the topic and general theological reflections on as well. The authors appealed to some Patristic writers such as John Crysostom for support of their arguments, as well as some Reformed theologians. I was unpersuaded. But why?

Was it the weight of opinion going against such a view? That was part of it. As best I can tell, in the central theological tradition of Christianity, both Roman Catholic and Protestant, the view has always been that men and women have complementary roles in the church and home, that men are ordained with the leadership role, to be exercised in a godly manner, and women are called to submit to such godly leadership. Of course, I had some basis for believing that the weight of historical theology was on my side, namely, I trusted that I was accurately reading the primary and secondary sources. I trusted that they could, in fact, be accurately read.

But equally important was my experience of reading the biblical texts themselves. On a common sense reading, they seemed to be saying that men and women have distinct roles. But I thought I should go deeper, so I got a hold of a book entitled, Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. This book was essentially the counterpoint to the previous book I’d read, structured exactly the same, but taking the complementarian viewpoint. I was persuaded. Of course there were unanswered questions that remained, but reading the exegetical, historical, and social arguments in this book clinched it for me. Why? Didn’t both books appeal to the Church Fathers? Indeed they did. Didn’t both books claim to be giving the correct understanding of the development of this doctrine down through the ages? Yes. Weren’t both arguing that their expositions of the biblical texts were correct? Of course.

Perhaps I was persuaded by the complementarian view because my own personal biases predisposed me to agree with it. I don’t doubt that this played a part. Indeed, since those days, my experience in this world has only confirmed my belief in the correctness of the complementarian view. But I’d like to think that more than my predispositions led to my convictions. In my view, the complementarian interpretations of the biblical and extra-biblical texts themselves were better. Yet I must have had some basis for judging them to be better. What was that basis exactly? This question leads back to the question I raised in my previous post on this. An involved answer would be quite involved indeed. But I think the short answer is, based on my understanding of human language and communication as it comes to us through written texts set in historical epochs, I find the complementarian view to have more to recommend it. I certainly give weight to what others before me have thought, and further, I would not even have an understanding of human communication in texts unless some people had transmitted that knowledge to me over the course of my life.

So I guess what I’m saying is that everyone is dependent on some prior authority or authorities for his or her understanding of any particular human language or communication. Yet at some point, we all reach our conclusions about what texts mean based on our understanding of the diction, grammar, syntax, tone, and structure used in that text, and our understandings of these things are based on the greater or lesser influences of various authorities on such texts. Somehow we are persuaded of things, and we do not always know how or why? Indeed, there is something spiritual about it.

-D

1) When your interpretation of Scripture diverts from the interpretation of a Church Father – or what’s more, the consensual opinion of all the Fathers – and/or from the official interpretation of a certain passage by the Catholic Church, on what exactly should I base my confidence that your interpretation is the correct one, and theirs the false?

2) In the case when other modern Biblical scholars might dissent from your opinion, how is one to judge who is correct? Surely all would claim to be guided by the Holy Spirit.

These are important questions; dare I say, as important as any in theology. For even if people could agree that ultimate authority resides in a text, or texts, another big hurdle awaits, namely, how does one know that the texts mean what one thinks they do? That is really what these questions are asking, though there are a lot of layers to the above questions. So let me try to take them in turn.

First, some disclaimers. I am not a scholar of historical theology; neither of Patristics, Medieval, Reformation, or Protestant Scholasticism. So I make no claims of expertise. I’m also not a scholar of biblical literature and language. I have good facility with the New Testament Greek, but I haven’t done much with Hebrew since the three semesters I took back in the late 90s. I’m not “up” on a lot of the technical literature, though I understand its semantics. All of this, however, may not be central to addressing the above questions, since I believe them to be more hermeneutical and epistemological than theological. On to the questions then.

My first thought is a rather elementary one: Since when has truth been decided by majority opinion? The Scriptures say, “Let God be true though every man be a liar.” Truth, whatever it is, is not arrived at always by consensus (though I think consensus is very impotant, as I point out below) Let’s say that the Church Fathers unequivocally agree on a particular interpretation of a certain text, and my interpretation differs from theirs; does that mean that theirs must be correct simply because they all agree? My question to my commenter might be this: Was Jesus offering interpretations that diverted from the majority view of his day? Indeed, on many occasions. On what should I base my confidence that he was right and the Pharisees wrong, since the Pharisees had a consensus against Jesus? What about Paul? My position is not that we jettison the opinions of the Church Fathers. Far from it. We should give their opinions more weight than we do. They were closer to the original language, text, and culture of the biblical writers. We ought not to “divert” from their views without some sound reasons for doing so, but we also ought not to say, in my view, that because they were closer to the originals, we ought to follow them absolutely.

Which leads into my second point: When speaking about “the interpretation of a Church Father” or “the consensual opinion of all the Fathers,” doesn’t this suppose that one is correctly intepreting the Fathers? But how does one know that he is correctly interpreting the Fathers? Both Reformation theologians and Roman Catholic theologians appealed to the Patristics on a wide scale in their theological disputes. So where is the “consensus?” Mustn’t my commenter rely on other authorities subsequent to the Fathers to confirm his interpretations of the Fathers? Why not rely on the Protestant ones rather than the Roman Catholic ones? And mustn’t my commenter rely on other authorities to confirm those subsequent authorities? You see the problem. When one speaks of “the consensual opinion of all the Fathers,” upon what basis is he claiming the Fathers form a consensus? His own readings of the Fathers? And how would this be different than my saying that my own private reading of the Scriptures is correct? The same questions arise when one says that they follow the word of Popes or councils or whatever. A particular exegetical and hermeneutical methodology must be followed in interpreting them as well, many of whom never wrote a word of modern English. And the particular interpretive methodology that my reader adopts must also be chosen on some basis. What basis?

Now, I doubt that my commenter is claiming that merely and solely his own private readings of the Fathers are the basis for his assertions about any Patristic consensus. Rather, he would likely admit that he found his way to his views by being influenced by a certain community of others: scholars, priests, laymen, commentaries, pastors, friends and the like. But even the opinions of these people must be weighed. How does one weigh them? Now, I’m not arguing for some kind of radical skepticism which claims that we cannot really know anything about anything since we’re all finite knowers, biased and conditioned by our own historical contexts. That is to cede too much. Nevertheless, if one is going to claim that he follows the consensual opinion of the Patristical writers, then he will have to give an account of how he comes to “know” what they teach. And if he says that he knows because he follows the authoritative teaching of the Popes and councils down through the centuries – the official Catholic teaching – then he will have to give the same account. In all likelihood, he is relying on the work of others, and he, like me, is weighing what others say and weighing his own reading of texts. How to judge this weighing process is complicated, and I’m not trying to make it simple, or negate the notion of “knowing.” I don’t doubt that we can indeed know, with a fair amount of accuracy, what the Church Fathers taught on a good many biblical texts and topics. But how we come to “know” it can happen through a process that even we may not be able to fully describe, or at least I can’t.

Third, again, we could ask ourselves about lots of authorities. How come we don’t accept the Muslim interpretation of the New Testament? There are tens of millions of them that interpret it differently than I do. Why not take their view? Why not take the general Mormon view? Why not take the view of the Protestants over the last 400 years? Is there such a “Protestant” view? Is there one accurate view of “the official interpretation by the Catholic Church?” If so, from whence comes disagreement over that teaching, for surely disagreement there is, as surely as there are denominational disagreements over “official interpretations” in the Protestant churches. One cannot simply say, “I follow the teachings of the Roman Catholic church, and a lot of people agree with me, so I have a basis for my understanding of biblical texts,” but a Protestant like me is simply following “my own opinion.” In the end, everyone is an individual interpreter of every text, weighing and making exegetical and hermeneutical decisions based on certain criteria and methodology. As Christians, we are told that we have the Holy Spirit to guide us, but as my commenter astutely points out: “Surely all would claim to be guided by the Holy Spirit.” In the end, at least from out point of view, there has to be some subjective element in all of this.

Fourth, I think this should lead us to humility in dealing with interpretations of others, particularly  if those interpretations have been held by a good many others, for a good many centuries, who were closer to the first century than us. Thus, if I’m reading Romans 4:1-8 and trying to accurately understand its objective teaching on justification, should I just reflexively take Luther or Calvin or some other reformer’s view if it disagrees with, say, Tertullian or Gregory of Nazianzus? Not necessarily. Although one does read a point where one comes to see things through a particular theological lens, as my commenter no doubt does. The point being, if the Patristics, or even the Roman Catholic Church, have a teaching on something, and we can come to know what it is, we ought not to throw it away without so much as a thought. I do not think the Reformers who broke from the Roman Catholic church cast off their prior understandings on a lark, and they were right not to do so. And they did not do their theologizing in a vacuum, because no one does. Likewise, I do not attempt to do my theologizing in isolation. I have not merely sat down with the Scriptures and come up with my own private views. My views are formed by the influence of others, and hopefully by the Holy Spirit. Are my views as well formed as they could be, were I to do more prayerful study of historical theology, modern commentary, and the Scriptures? Surely not, but we are all in theological process.

So how does one judge “who is correct?” I’m not sure I can give a full answer. I’d like to have a better answer, and as such, I’m grateful for the question. I suppose I try to follow Luther’s advice, to be convinced “by Scripture or clear reasoning.” I seek to test and evaluate my interpretations by others, both modern and ancient. I try to listen to both Protestants and Catholics where I can (and believe me, there are many teachings of the Roman Catholic church that I adhere to better than many Roman Catholics). I try to put my interpretations out there for others in my context and community to evaluate. I seek to be guided by the Holy Spirit. I ought to repent and follow Luther when he says,

“Your first duty is to begin to pray, and to pray to this effect that if it please God to accomplish something for His glory—not for yours or any other person’s—He very graciously grant you a true understanding of His words. For no master of the divine words exists except the Author of these words, as He says: ‘They shall be all taught of God’ (John 6:45). You must, therefore, completely despair of your own industry and ability and rely solely on the inspiration of the Spirit” (Ewald M. Plass, compiler, What Luther Says: An Anthology, Vol. 3, (St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 1959), 77.)

Of course I welcome any and all comment on this, for I hope to better approach the true knowledge of God, and I believe these issues are crucial toward that end. Doubtless if I have contradicted myself or wandered into a specious or untenable assertion, I should like to know it.

-D

“Under the rubric ‘It is good not to have relations with a woman,’ they were seeking to change their present status, apparently because as believers they saw this as conforming to the more spiritual existence that they had already attained. Thus they saw one’s status with regard to marriage/ celibacy as having religious significance and sought change because of it. Under the theme of ‘call’ Paul seeks to put their ‘spirituality’ into a radically different perspective…That is, the call to Christ has created such a change in one’s essential relationship (with God) that one does not need to seek change in other relationships (with people). These latter are transformed and given new meaning by the former. Thus one is no better off in one condition than in the other” (307) [emphasis mine].

We note that Paul, even here, does not offer an absolutist perspective on this. He says that if one was a slave when Christ called him, he should “not let it trouble [him].” However, “if you are able also to become free, rather do that.” In other words, if freedom from slavery were to become an option, then one should avail himself of serving Christ as a freedman. Fee again, “Paul’s point, then, is not that one must stay where one was when  called. Rather, it is precisely as the imperative in this verse implies: Whatever your situation was at the time of your call, don’t let that become a concern to you. One’s calling in Christ raises one about that urgency” (318).

Thus, the Corinthians should certainly not end their marriages because of an erroneous belief that returning to singleness would be better Id. Rather, they, and we, should seek to be content in whatever our situation, and we ought to serve the Lord with devotion in it. This really is the central point overall, and a radically freeing one. We often feel that we must put ourselves in a “better” position to serve Christ, whether it be a “better” living situation or a “better” job or a “better” spouse or a “better” church. (Fee, 321-22). Paul is not saying that one is compelled to stay in absolutely every situation he was in when called, but rather is saying that, whether one does so or not, one’s ability to honor Christ fully is not hindered. Id. As long as we are abiding in Christ in our current situation (cf., John 15), we can be spiritually fruitful Id. This should be clear in our minds as we get to the main thrust of Paul’s view on singleness and marriage in the next verses.

-D

We get a clue that this is true from the last words of 1 Cor. 7:7, where Paul says, “Yet I wish that all people were even as I myself am (i.e., single), but rather, each one has his own gift from God; one thus, and another that.” Hence, Paul qualifies his desire for people to remain single. This thought continues on into verses 8-9, and seems to be the reason for the next two verses, as Gordon Fee notes, “Paul has just spoken both to his preference for celibacy (as a genuine gift of freedom from sexual need) and to his awareness that his is not the only gift. Thus he speaks to those who are in his situation – not now married, but without his gift – before he comes back to the further question of the dissolution of marriages” (p.287).

In v. 8, Paul says, “But to the unmarried and to widows I say that it is good for them if they remain as they are, even as I.” Fee here argues that “unmarried” should be translated as “widowers” (p.287-88). This seems to fit the context well, since Paul addresses those who have never been married later on in the chapter (Fee, 288). Thus, in this verse, Paul is indeed stating that, for those who now find themselves single, it is best for them to “remain as they are,” which is the central theme of the chapter. However, verse 9 provides a qualification to this statement.

In v. 9, Paul says, “But if they do not exercise self-control, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.” Fee comments, “The implication is that some of these people are doing the same as some of the married in v.1-7, practicing ‘sexual immorality,’ that is, probably also going to prostitutes. The antidote for such sin is to get married instead” (289). So Paul is not offering here an unqualified statement that “singleness is better” for those who were married and are single again. It is certainly better to remain single if they can swing it with proper self-control, but if they are not presently exercising such control, then marriage is the better alternative. Fee writes, “On the one hand, consistent with the general view in Jewish and Christian antiquity, Paul urges the formerly married to remain in their present single state…But he also clearly recognizes that that represents what he thinks is ‘good’; it may not be elevated to the position of a commandment. On the other hand, it is a strong word against the formerly married who are not living in continence. For them, marriage is the proper alternative to their being consumed by their sins” (290). This seems an eminently practical concern, if not a wholly “romantic” one.

The subsequent verses deal in some detail with divorce and remarriage. As such, I will deal with them in a more cursory way in the next post in order to return to the general topic of singleness more quickly.

-D

We’ll just take the first seven verses in this post. Fee starts out with the comment: “The controlling motif of Paul’s answer is: ‘Do not seek a change in status.’ This occurs in every subsection…and is the singular theme of the paragraph that ties the two sections together” (The First Epistle to the Corinthians: NICNT [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987], p.268). Thus, Paul’s overall concern is not to exalt one particular status – singleness or marriage – over another, at least in spiritual terms. Rather, it is to urge the Corinthians to remain in whatever status they were in when they converted to Christ, although Paul grants exceptions (Fee, 268).

Though the Corinthians do have a question as to whether it is better for those never married to remain single, they also seem to be asking whether it might not be better for those already married to either 1) end their marriages or 2) abstain from having sex within their marriages (Fee, 269). Paul argues that the Corinthians should not end their marriages nor abstain from sex while married, but rather, should remain as they are. So how does this work out?

Paul argues that those who are married should remain married and should continue to have sex as a married couple (vs.1-7). The only reason to abstain would be “for the purpose of prayer,” but even this is only a “concession” (Fee, 284). Paul hastens to add, “Then come together again so that Satan will not tempt you because of your lack of self-control” (v.5). So conjugal intercourse is something that Paul commands.

Then we come to v. 7, and it is here that we first encounter the notion that singleness might be better than marriage. Paul writes, “I wish that all people were as I myself am. But each person has his own gift from God; one has this gift, another has that.” Does Paul mean that he wishes all people were single, as he is, or that all people had the gift of celibacy, as he does. Fee argues for the latter, and I agree. Fee comments that Paul wishes that all had “that singular gift of freedom from the desire or need of sexual fulfillment that made it possible for him to live without marriage in the first place” (284). But not all have this gift, and so “in the present context [Paul] is both affirming his own celibate – and single – status and denying that those who are already married may also be celibate (vv. 2-6) or single (vv. 10-16)…For [Paul] both marriage and celibacy are gifts, and despite his own preference for his gift, he certainly does not raise it to a higher spirituality” (Fee, 285). There’s no getting around Paul’s preference for the gift of celibacy here, and it seems clear that later on Paul will show a preference for singleness, but none of this should be taken to mean that being single is somehow better in a spiritual or moral sense. That is, the single person is not on a higher spiritual or moral plane simply by virtue of his or her singleness (Fee, 285).

More to come on this chapter.

-D

Such a decline may be a part of modernity, but I can’t agree that is is “inextricably part of modernity.” There simply is no necessary causal connection between the attainments of modern technological life and the having of smaller families. Rather, I would argue, our modern technologies simply make the “contraceptive mentality” – an impulse that has always existed in mankind for one reason or another – more achievable. It also makes justifications such as Krikorian’s easier to offer. Further, Krikorian’s assertion is just that, an assertion, lacking any justification. Surely one must do more than produce a chart, as he does, showing that birth rates are declining everywhere, and then claim that this is happening due to…”modernity.” The reader should like to know what, precisely, it is about modernity that has led to the birth rate in this country to fall “from [the] rate of 7 children per white woman in 1800 to 2 today.” And why couldn’t it be based on the reasons that Krikorian so easily dismisses, namely, “indolence and hedonism?” Granted, such analysis would take a lot of unpacking, but that is no reason to offer overly confident assertions that require sufficient justification.

And I most definitely do not agree that decreased childbearing is “part of the unfolding of God’s design for humanity.” Whether expressed seriously or only tongue-in-cheek, it is this kind of statement that betrays our mentality towards children and large families in particular. The main “unpleasantry” of not replacing our population is, well, you know.

-D

The construction of a Steinway grand – which takes about a year to complete – is the subject of the documentary, Note by Note. This film is astounding on a number of levels, and left me in awe of the men and women who hand-craft these incomparable instruments. We watch month-by-month as the particular piano numbered L1037 goes from being a bunch of lumber to a finished grand piano, and in the process we are given a glimpse of much that our eyes never see when we look the finished product.

We realize first that in our world of low-grade mass-produced items, we have lost almost all appreciation for things that are hand-crafted with precise and superb skill and care. And this film serves as one small step in rekindling such appreciation. The people who build this piano take evident pride in their work, and leave the imprint of their own distinct craftsmanship on each one. The attention to detail and the ear for hearing how the instrument should sound is simply amazing. These people strive for perfection, and I couldn’t help but sense something of God’s pleasure in creating as I watched these people work.

Speaking of God’s pleasure in creating, we next realize something of the meaning of Paul’s words, “We are His workmanship” (Eph. 2:10). As you see the individual workers, laboring in painstaking detail over their particular contribution to the instrument, you can’t help but think of how God molds and shapes His children into the likeness of Christ, patiently and painstakingly adjusting, fine-tuning, correcting, and perfecting our lives. God truly is the Master Craftsman, so it is no wonder that His image-bearers seek to create excellent and beautiful work in imitation of Him. I was stirred to consider my own work in this world, to strive for excellence in all that I produce, to pour my soul into my labors, thus honoring the One who has made and is remaking me.

Finally, this film made me realize at least one of my hidden biases. I said to my wife, “If I saw and heard one of these workers sitting next to me at a ballgame, I’d think he was a ditch-digger or a trash-collector, not a master craftsman working on Steinway grand pianos.” This just goes to show my arrogance, and the all-too-narrow context I inhabit day-to-day. It was kind of cool to find out that a guy who wears a Pittsburgh Steeler’s jersey to work and sounds like a mob boss is one of the fine-tuners of each piano, making sure the sound is just right. A man should feel grateful if a movie explodes some of his stereotypes as this one did.

Most of all, the film was just downright pleasurable to watch, like eating a satisfying meal with a fine glass of wine. It was simply yet brilliantly shot and composed, bringing home the power of work excellently done, showing the appreciation by concert pianists for such labor. I’d watch it again.

-D

I admit that changing hearts and minds on this matter is difficult, but in these days of resolutions and renewals, I remind myself that my mind was changed and I can point to other minds that have been changed as well. I’m always attentive when others touch on the issue of procreation, to see if there are other angles I’ve not yet pursued. Thus my interest in C.S. Lewis’ little essay, The Transmission of Christianity (in God in the Dock). Lewis spends most of the essay discussing the need for Christian education, which I heartily endorse. But he argues that Christian education by itself is not enough. In other words, Lewis held that “getting at” the schools in England would not “re-baptize England.” There is a great need to convert adults as well as children. But, Lewis added that he did not see the need to despair. And why not?

As long as Christians have children and non-Christians do not, one need have no anxiety for the next century. Those who worship the Life-Force do not do much about transmitting it: those whose hopes are all based on the terrestrial future do not entrust much to it. If these processes continue, the final issue can hardly be in doubt.

Of course, Lewis wrote this before the advent of The Pill and the widespread use of contraceptives among evangelical Christians. Further, one may argue that having babies for the specific purpose of “transmitting Christianity” sounds rather utilitarian and mechanical, rather than loving. But is that true? Is not the conceiving, bearing, and raising of human life a blessing according to Christ? And is it not a further blessing to raise children to know and love Christ and experience His salvation? Wouldn’t it be the height of love for two parents to conceive children out of profound love for each other, and to raise those children to love and serve Christ so that they too might enjoy the fullness of pleasure in God’s eternal presence? Is there a higher, more selfless, motivation for bringing children into the world?

We see that families like the Duggars are lambasted for having so many children, but as one lambaster asks: “Where are the forces that shall help neutralize [The Duggar's] effect on the culture? Where is the counterbalance, to offset the damage? Where is, in other words, the funky tattooed intellectual poetess who, along with her genius anarchist husband, is popping out 16 funky progressive intellectually curious fashion-forward pagan offspring to answer the Duggar’s squad of über-white future Wal-Mart shoppers? Where is the liberal, spiritualized, pro-sex flip side? Verily I say unto thee, it ain’t lookin’ good.”

No it ain’t, and I think Lewis has told us why.

-D