Category Archives: Theology

Tom Wright. Justification: God’s Plan and Paul’s Vision

Leave a reply

Tom Wright. Justification: God’s Plan and Paul’s Vision. SPCK, 2009.

N.T. Wright has achieved that stature among theologians that he can whip off a long, wordy direct response to a critique of his thought and have it become a major publishing event–which I think is mostly a good thing. I do find his switching back and forth between “N.T. Wright” and “Tom Wright” as the author of his various books to be irritating. And this book is being rushed out, seemingly in order to utilize the buzz among evangelicals concerning the debate between Wright and the super-Calvinist pastor/theologian John Piper while it lasts. The British edition has come out in paperback and can be purchased on line in the States.  The American edition, to be published by InterVarsity this month will start out in hardback–another indicator of the effort to exploit Wright’s popularity.

Nonetheless, this is an important and helpful book. As with all of Wright’s work, we have an engagingly written, theologically oriented, and exegetically careful treatment of central issues of the interpretation and application of New Testament writings. In this case, Wright focuses on the issue of “justification” in Paul’s writings–especially Galatians and Romans.

For the more general reader who is not particularly interested in the extremist views of someone like John Piper, chunks of Wright’s book will lend themselves to skimming. However, when he focuses on his constructive interpretation of Paul’s thought (which is, happily, for most of the book), Wright gives us a great deal to chew on. Basically, Wright understands “justification” in the context of the salvation narrative of the entire Bible–and makes what seems to me to be a quite persuasive case for this kind of reading. Linking with the argument of his fine recent book, Surprised By Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church (to be reviewed on this website soon), Wright interprets Paul as presenting justification as a world-transforming impetus from God in the present world–not as a matter of an individual believer finding one’s way to an otherworldly heaven after death.

He sees Paul articulating a “covenant” theology: “the belief that the creator God called Abraham’s family into covenant with him so that through his family all the world might escape from the curse of sin and death and enjoy the blessing and life of new creation” (page 222).  Well said!

So, all things considered, I highly recommend this book and anticipate the publication of Wright’s promised big, big book on Paul’s theology–which will, no doubt, be published under the name “N.T. Wright.”

The Battle with Baal: King Ahab vs. Elijah

Leave a reply

Here is the thirteenth in a series of Bible studies that present the Bible as being in the side of pacifism. This essay, “The Battle with Baal: King Ahab vs. Elijah” focuses on a story that highlights the evolution of human kingship in ancient Israel away from loyalty to Torah and toward self-aggrandizement and power politics. King Ahab expropriates an Israeli’s land (his “inheritance”) in defiance of the message of Torah and has the man killed. He doesn’t quite get away with it and the great prophet Elijah embodies the loyalty of true prophets to Torah and challenges the King.

Barry Hankins, Francis Schaeffer and the Shaping of Evangelical America

1 Reply

Barry Hankins. Francis Schaeffer And the Shaping of Evangelical America Eerdmans, 2008.

Barry Hankins, professor of history at Baylor University, in this cleanly written and remarkably objective short biography of Francis Schaeffer, the so-called evangelist to intellectuals, divides Schaeffer’s public live into three distinct stages. One’s feelings about Schaeffer and his impact on “evangelical America” might be closely related to which of these stages the reader is most interested in.

The first stage would be of interest to those who want to know about one important element of the intense fundamentalist reaction toward and separation from mainline Protestant Christianity in the United States (and the subsequent conflicts among the separatist fundamentalists, especially those in the Presbyterian tradition).  The young Francis Schaeffer (he was born in 1912) began his seminary studies in 1935 at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia (Schaeffer’s home town). Westminster had been started in 1929 by the prominent and militantly conservative  New Testament scholar J. Gresham Machen in direct opposition to what Machen and his collaborators saw as in intolerable drift toward liberalism on the part of the flagship Presbyterian seminary at Princeton.

Schaeffer studied at Westminster for two years, a time of increasing tensions within the Westminster community that culminated at Machen’s death in 1937 when another splinter seminary was formed. This new school, called Faith Seminary, was led by disenchanted Westminster faculty Allen MacRae and the infamous Carl McIntire. Schaeffer was Faith’s first student, first graduate, and was the first minister ordained in a new demonination formed by MacRae and McIntire known as the Bible Presbyterian Church.  This new group, according to Schaeffer, felt especially concerned about three issues: Westminster was seen as too extreme in its commitment to Calvinism, Westminster was too tolerant concerning the use of alcohol, and Westminster was amillennial rather than premillennial.

Between 1938 and 1948, Schaeffer served several Bible Presbyterian congregations as pastor, joining wholeheartedly in the efforts of Bible Presbyterian leaders to persuade like-minded congregations to leave the mainstream Presbyterian denominations and join with them.  He emerged as a rising star in this context, but in time felt fairly battered by the constant conflict such an approach to Christian faith seemingly required.

So when the opportunity arose in 1948 to move his family to Switzerland and undertake the task of helping to reintroduce doctrinally “orthodox” Christianity into western Europe, the exhausted young pastor accepted the call. During the 1950s, the Schaeffers struggled to make their way. Francis did find the opportunity to engage Europe’s most prominent Protestant theologian, Karl Barth, in a brief dialogue. Schaeffer managed to alienate Barth fairly quickly, leading to a note from Barth calling an end to the “conversation.” Barth believed that Schaeffer had basically accused him of being a heretic, devoid of truth and logic, so what was the point of dialogue?  “The heretic has been burnt and buried for good,” Barth wrote. “Rejoice, dear Mr. Schaeffer (and you calling your-selves ‘fundamentalists’ all over the world)! Rejoice and go on to believe in your ‘logics’ and in your-selves as the only true ‘bible-believing’ people! Shout so loudly as you can! But, pray, allow me, to let you alone” (page 39).

By the summer of 1954, Schaeffer came to the end of his relationship with Carl McIntire and the Bible Presbyterian Church. The bitter break led to a loss of financial support from and formal connection with the church agencies that had sent Schaeffer to Europe. Out of this turmoil came the opportunity to begin an independent ministry, L’Abri. This constitutes the second stage in Schaeffer’s career–Hankins terms it “The Making of a European Evangelical” in distinction from the first stage, “The Making of an American Fundamentalist.”

The ministry of L’Abri led to a quite different focus for Schaeffer. Rather than struggling over the creation and sustenance of a doctrinally pure church over against other Christians, Schaeffer’s attention now was focused on offering hospitality and witness to young people, many of whom were not Christians. In this context, Schaeffer developed his apologetic approach, meant to persuade these non-Christians of the truthfulness of the faith and to lead to their conversion.

Schaeffer’s effectiveness with this work led to the gradual growth of L’Abri and of his reputation. Part of his appeal was the sincere effort to provide a non-judgmental, empathetic presence for young people struggling with hope and meaning.  Part of the appeal, added to significantly by Edith Schaeffer, was practical love and care shown to the ever-growing number of visitors. However, as Hankins suggests, part of the appeal of the Schaeffer ministry also stemmed from underlying certainty in the truthfulness of the message being delivered. Schaeffer’s break with McIntire really had nothing to do with the general theology of Presbyterian fundamentalism–especially the insistence on the perfect errorlessness (“inerrancy”) of the Bible and the utter rejection of the validity of “liberal” Christianity.

Schaeffer’s big breakthrough came with the idea to transcribe his lectures for publication. The books that resulted, in particular his “trilogy” (Escape From Reason, The God Who Is There, and He Is There and Is Not Silent) became a bit of a sensation. They gained wide circulation among North American evangelical Christians, expanding Schaeffer’s ministry greatly–and changing the focus a bit from encounters with European atheists and agnostics more to working with doubting Christians and former Christians from North America who made the pilgrimage to L’Abri.

The third and final stage in Hankins’ story comes when Schaeffer moved from books to film in an attempt to expand his audience. How Should We Then Live?, a film series and an accompanying book that sought to provide an analysis of Western culture in service of Christian apologetics did indeed expand Schaeffer’s audience and signaled a whole new focus for his ministry. His filmmaker son Franky persuaded him to enter into North American controversies such as the struggle over biblical inerrancy and the conflict over abortion.

This entry into these issues moved Schaeffer into the political arena with both feet–and aligned him closely with the emerging Christian Right. In fact, Franky (now Frank), in his recent memoir, Crazy for God (reviewed here), makes a not far-fetched claim that his father’s final three works (How Should We Then Live?, Whatever Happened to the Human Race, and A Christian Manifesto) and their attendant conferences and publicity combined with overt efforts to expand the Schaeffers’ network of allies (which included links with “co-belligerents” such as Jerry Falwell and Tim LaHaye) served as one of the founding impulses in the emergence of the Christian Right as a major political force in the United States (Frank came greatly to regret his role in this process).

Francis Schaeffer became a kind of superstar in conservative Christian circles–becoming friends with Presidents Ford and, especially, Reagan. Schaeffer suggested that Reagan’s election provided a providential “window of opportunity” for politicized Christians to move the US back to its Christian foundations via, among other things, legislation to criminalize abortion. Schaeffer contracted cancer and died in 1984, so we don’t know what his assessment of the Reagan administration might have been, but it’s hard to imagine he would not have been disappointed.

Hankins, who treats Schaeffer with a great deal of sympathy throughout the book, suggests that when looked at now in retrospect, these three stages in Schaeffer’s career provide a fairly coherent whole. During the third stage, many of those who had been ministered to through L’Abri and Schaeffer’s early books (including several such as theologian Clark Pinnock and historian Ronald Wells who went on to prominence as evangelical scholars and teachers), came sharply to critique what seemed to them a shift toward a much more militant and fundamentalist orientation. In Hankins’ telling, though, the main difference between stage two and stage three was simply the move toward a more overtly political focus–indeed a significant shift that transformed the nature of Schaeffer’s audience, but not one reflecting any philosophical or theological changes.

I recommend this book to anyone interested in the Schaeffer phenomenon. Any criticisms I could mention would be minor–the book is well-written, based on solid research, and tells a fascinating and coherent story. My main regret is simply that the book is too short. It is part of a series of biographies on various religious figures and clearly was required to fit in lengthwise with other books in the series.

Reading this book certainly triggered a lot of memories and reflections for me. I encountered Schaeffer’s work about the time he was making the transition from stage two to stage three. During the summer of 1975, I joined a new church and immediately became immersed in a book study group that was working through Schaeffer’s trilogy. At that point I was a self-identified fundamentalist who very much lived in a dualistic world–my Christian faith on Sunday and college studies during the week. Schaeffer’s message to me was to bring these worlds together. I swallowed that message hook, line, and sinker, and in many ways the course of the rest of my life was set.

During my senior year in college I read everything Schaeffer had published plus numerous other writings from his L’Abri colleagues such as Os Guinness, Udo Middelmann, and Hans Rookmaaker. About this time I also encountered Anabaptist writers, especially John Howard Yoder. For a brief time these two schools of thought vied for my allegiance. Very quickly, though, Yoder won a decisive victory over Schaeffer. The key issue was his attention to the story of Jesus and his utterly persuasive case for the present-day normativity for Christians of Jesus’ politics. I came to see in Schaeffer just another version of political Constantinianism and a theological (or Christological) evasion of the core elements of Jesus’ message (including, at its heart, pacifism).

By the Spring of 1977, I was ready to leave Schaeffer behind. The process was accelerated with the film series How Should We Then Live? I co-taught a course at the University of Oregon on this series right after it was released. I have learned that the best way to become aware of the weaknesses in scholarly works is to teach them. That certainly was the case with this book and film. As we taught the class, I became increasingly disenchanted with Schaeffer’s perspective and his tendency to make highly questionable generalizations and fit everything into his apologetic box. I had numerous debates with my co-teachers, and in the end I was through with Schaeffer. When he followed up this project by moving much further to the Right politically and joining with some of the most obnoxious Christian and political leaders in our country, I realized his true colors were becoming ever more apparent.

Hankins’ book helps me understand better my experiences and perceptions of Schaeffer–and confirms most of them. As I said above, Hankins writes with great objectivity and sympathy–there is nothing here to suggest any motivation to attack Schaeffer. But he is a good enough historian to give us the information we need to assess Schaeffer’s career for ourselves.

Several elements of the story jumped out for me. I knew a bit about Schaeffer’s connection with the arch-separatist Carl McIntire, who had become quite an embarrassment by the end of his long life. It was interesting and revealing to learn how closely Schaeffer worked for McIntire and for how long they remained close allies. Schaeffer certainly remained utterly hostile toward anything that sniffed of theological liberalism throughout his career. This hostility seems especially problematic given that many of the elements of Schaeffer’s critique of anti-human aspects of Western culture have a lot of truth to them. But his antipathy toward fellow Christians who would share that critique and want to work to bring healing in our culture undermined his efforts tremendously.

A classic case, which I alluded to above, is Schaeffer’s attitude toward Karl Barth. On any reasonable theological spectrum, Barth stands pretty far to the right, pretty strongly founded on the biblical message, and pretty affirmative of the theological tradition (i.e., Augustine, Luther, Calvin, et al). But Schaeffer did treat Barth as an arch-heretic, a thinker firmly below the “line of despair” who consistently leads Christians astray.

A telling comment by Hankins, which he brings up almost in passing and does not emphasize at all, puts this in perspective. “It is highly unlikely that Schaeffer ever actually read Hegel, Kant, Kierkegaard, and the other modern thinkers he would later critique in his lectures and books.  It is doubtful that he even read Barth in depth.  Schaeffer’s knowledge of these thinkers was superficial….[He] was a voracious reader of magazines and the Bible, but some who lived at L’Abri and knew him well say they never saw him read a book” (page 43).

Hankins does not go into much detail about Schaeffer’s rationale for his uncompromising stance on biblical inerrancy and his rejection of the theory of evolution. These stances were front and center through all stages of Schaeffer’s career and certainly mark him as a fundamentalist and even as, in some basic ways, anti-intellectual.

The one account of Schaeffer’s intellectual shallowness that Hankins tells in some depth is quite revealing. Schaeffer’s final book, A Christian Manifesto, centered on Schaeffer’s long-standing assertion of the United States as originally a fundamentally Christian nation. This was part of his critique of how we had lost our bearings as a culture due to losing the original Christian element. Two of evangelicalism’s most accomplished historians, George Marsden and Mark Noll, challenged Schaeffer’s reading. Noll, especially, patiently devoted a great deal of time to respectfully arguing his case in a series of letter exchanges with Schaeffer. Despite being unable to marshal any evidence to support his argument, Schaeffer refused to budge–implying that the present cultural war required his argument, regardless of the evidence.

My impression, based in part on my own experience and in part on reading Hankins’ book as well as numerous other pieces over the years, is that Schaeffer (even if poorly grounded) provided evangelical and fundamentalist Christians in the 1960s and 1970s with inspiration to enter the intellectual life. For some, this inspiration opened doors to a lifetime of learning and working to intergrate faith and scholarship. Perhaps he deserves our appreciation for this. However, given the enormity of his influence in encouraging powerful anti-intellectual dynamics among Christians and a politics of division and coercion that culminated in the disaster of the George W. Bush presidency, it’s hard not to conlude that ironically and tragically, the deepest legacy of Francis Schaeffer was to hasten the diminishment of the standing of Christianity in our world.

King David and the Ambiguities of Power

Leave a reply

Here is the eleventh in a series of Bible studies that present the Bible as being in the side of pacifism. In this essay, “King David and the Ambiguities of Power,” looks at the story of King David’s rise and fall. Even though Samuel had spoken sharply in opposition to the elders of Israel asking God for a human king (to be “like the other nations”), with David’s emergence, we get the sense that the institution of kingship might indeed follow the pattern of Deuteronomy 17. However, over time David succumbs to the allures of excessive power and ends up fulfilling Samuel’s warnings by taking–most overtly, Bathsheba, the beautiful wife of his loyal soldier Uriah. David’s fall marks the long descent of kingship to a pretty complete fulfillment of the worst of Samuel’s warnings. As we will see, in the end to linking of God’s promise with the nation state ends in the rubble of Judah’s king’s palace and the temple.  But the promise does not end….

Israel, Kingship, and Violence—1 Samuel 8; Deuteronomy 17

Leave a reply

Here is the tenth in a series of Bible studies that present the Bible as being in the side of pacifism. In this essay, “Israel, Kingship, and Violence,”  I look at the emergence of the institution of kingship in ancient Israel and its consequences. When we take into account the conclusion to the book of Judges and the early chapters of 1 Samuel, it is understandable how this move toward kingship would have been attractive to Israel’s elders. However, Samuel challenges this move, predicting dire consequences centering on the likely transformation of Israel toward social injustices characteristic of the nations. Deuteronomy gives us a glimpse at a theologically acceptable form of kingship–however, as the story makes clear, the guidelines in Deuteronomy primarily serve as criteria for judging Israel’s kings as failures.

Chaos and Order—Judges 19–21

Leave a reply

Here is the ninth in a series of Bible studies that present the Bible as being in the side of pacifism. In this essay, “Chaos and Order,” I look at the book of Judges, a challenging book to understand in relation to peace theology. I suggest that Judges helps us understand the context for Israel’s disastrous choice to turn toward human kingship with its picture of how, when “there was no king in Israel,” everyone did “that which was right in their own eyes” (Judges 21:25). The story told in Judges is important for peace theology primarily in its account of the struggles of Israel to live in the land–struggles that only grew in the years to come until, finally, the entire idea of God’s promise being channeled through a nation-state had to be abandoned.

A Conversation on Homosexuality: The Welcome Side

3 Replies

[Ted Grimsrud – Eastern Mennonite University  Dialogue with Mark Thiessen Nation – February 19, 2009]

Introduction: Starting with Jesus

In my general approach to theology and ethics, my starting point is the life and teaching of Jesus.  At the heart of Jesus’ message, I believe, we find his double command to love God and love neighbor.  So, in thinking about the church’s response to gay and lesbian Christians, I want to start with Jesus. 

Here’s one angle: How did Jesus relate to “sinners”?  We need to think carefully here.  Let me suggest two somewhat different senses of the category “sinners.”  The first sense would refer to people who violate the Law or in some other sense go against God’s will by their actions or inaction.

Jesus certainly taught that God’s mercy offers healing for all of these “sinners” when they turn back to God, even really bad “sinners.”  A great example in the Gospels is Jesus’ story of the Prodigal Son.  This young man, by any measure, violated central commands – especially honor your parents and keep pure eating habits.  But he is forgiven.  A second famous example is the woman caught in adultery, who Jesus forgave. 

Both these cases stories, do emphasize God’s healing mercy that reaches even to the worst offenders.  However, both also make clear that “sinners,” in the sense of those who violate the core concerns of the Law, are expected to repent and to turn from their sinful ways.

But there is also a second kind of “sinner.”  “Sinner” also refers to those labeled sinners by the religious leaders, people who, in Jesus’ view, were not actually guilty of violating the core concerns of the law.  People excluded from Israel’s religious life due to their poverty, for example, or some disease such as leprosy.  For these “sinners,” Jesus offered welcome – you are fully a part of God’s people just as you are.  Of course, like everyone else would be part of God’s people you are called to love God and your neighbor wholeheartedly.  But you are not excluded because of a label placed on you that has to do with your identity and not an actual violation of the commands, of Torah.

Mark and I seem to disagree about which sense of “sinner” we should consider gay and lesbian Christians who are in committed relationships.  Are they sinners who due simply to the gender of their significant other violate the core concerns of Torah? Or are they sinners who are being inappropriately excluded from full membership in the faith community due to labels that are placed on them?

I want to be clear, though, in stating where we agree.  The inclusion of sinners that is at the heart of Jesus’ ministry is not simply a blind tolerance that says “I’m okay, you’re okay, we all have our faults, and we are all equally a part of God’s community regardless of whether we are seeking to follow the commandments or not.” 

So, I believe that Jesus, in his welcome of those inappropriately labeled “sinners,” challenges us to do likewise.  So we should welcome gay and lesbian Christians who seek to live faithfully and find themselves in relationships of mutual commitment and fidelity with people of their same sex. 

On the one hand, we should recognize that Christianity’s hostility toward gay and lesbian Christians parallels the dynamics that Jesus critiqued in his day – the inappropriate use of the category of “sinner” to exclude people who are the victims of prejudice and are living faithful lives.  On the other hand, we should affirm that our standards for people in heterosexual marriages also be applied to people in same-sex relationships: sexual intimacy only in the context of a monogamous, covenanted, faithful relationship.

Broader Biblical Support for Jesus’ Welcoming Stance

When we read the Bible with Jesus’ love command as our interpretive lens we will find much support for this understanding of welcome.  I will mention only two examples.

In the Old Testament Law, we find something crucial.  At its heart lay the call for the community, especially self-conscious ways to care for vulnerable people in its midst. Leviticus 19, for example, calls for special attentiveness to widows, to orphans, and to resident aliens – those without the kinship links that were so important to people’s wellbeing.  This concern for vulnerable people within the community finds expression throughout the Old Testament in prophetic critiques from Amos to Jeremiah and beyond.

I believe that one class of people in our churches today who are particularly vulnerable are gay and lesbian people.  The history of hostility from church and society has resulted in persecution, exclusion, acts of psychological and even physical violence.  The spirit of Torah, especially as embodied by Jesus, challenges churches today to transform their attitudes from hostility to hospitality toward gays.

My second biblical example supporting Jesus’ welcoming approach is how Paul underlines Jesus’ message.  He writes in Galatians 3:28: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”

Paul emphasizes here that allegiance to Christ transcends common boundary lines often used to exclude—ethnicity, social status, gender.  All who trust in Jesus and seek to follow his way are included in his body, regardless of whatever labels might have in the past been used to push “outsiders” away.

Paul teaches two themes that echo Jesus’ approach.  First, human labels are abolished in Christ.  Especially those labeled by “insiders” as being outsiders are to be included without discrimination when they trust in Jesus.  Second, for all who join in the body of Christ, following basic standards of ethical faithfulness is expected.

A Bias Toward Welcome

From these biblical themes, I draw the conclusion that our bias should be in favor of welcome for all who trust in Jesus and seek to follow him.  We should be especially welcoming toward people who are vulnerable in various ways to being treated with violence and hostility, who may lack resources, power, and easy access to social acceptance.

Our churches, thus, should be inclined to welcome gay and lesbian Christians, including those in committed relationships – even as our churches continue to hold all members to high standards of fidelity and commitment in marriage.

We find in the Bible a call to offer welcome to those inappropriately labeled “sinners.”  We find a call to express special concern for vulnerable people.  And we find a call to recognize our oneness in Christ that transcends exclusive boundary markers.  These points all support an inclusive approach toward gay and lesbian Christians.

Testing Our Benefit of the Doubt

However, we can’t simply leave the discussion here.  If there is indeed something inherently wrong or sinful about same-sex relationships, we would then have reason to override this benefit of the doubt toward inclusion.  Jesus’ message of welcome is not based on ignoring the call to faithful living.  If some behavior is intrinsically unlawful, intrinsically harmful to persons and communities, then Jesus would have us expect that that behavior be changed for people to be full participants in the community.

However, with our inclination toward welcome based on Jesus and the rest of the Bible, we should ask for strong evidence that intimate same-sex relationships are wrong simply because they are with same-sex partners.  What could constitute a high enough standard of proof?  I can think of three obvious possibilities.  One would be if there clearly is something inherently harmful in our present experience about the “same-sexness” of same-sex partnerships.  A second would be if we had strong reasons to believe that recognizing same-sex marriage would in some way undercut the churches’ commitment to heterosexual marriage.  And a third is if we have clear commands in the Bible forbidding such relationships for Christians.

Of course, many Christians do believe we have clear teachings on each of these points.  I am not convinced, however.

(1) Is the “same-sexness” of same sex partnerships intrinsically harmful? On the issue of harm, it is true that a great deal of harm does result from the sexual behavior of many gay men – both physical problems and the emotional problems related to promiscuity.  However, it is hard to see how any of these problems would be present in, say, a covenanted, monogamous lesbian partnership.  That is, these problems do not seem to be related to the “same-sexness” of the partnership per se. 

I believe it is an empirical fact that many same-sex partnerships for both men and women are healthy in every way.  I know several among friends of mine – in two cases now for over 20 years, in another for over 40 years, and in two other cases now for over 10 years.

We all know of sexual behaviors among heterosexual people that are harmful – coercive sex, promiscuity, unfaithfulness, sexually transmitted diseases.  But we don’t make generalizations about all “heterosexual practice” being wrong – instead, we seek to foster healthy partnerships because we know that most human beings flourish best when they are in healthy marriages.  I would simply say that we should approach same-sex partnerships in the same way – critiquing the harmful practices and supporting the healthy ones.

(2) Does same-sex marriage undermine heterosexual marriage? The idea that same-sex marriage would in some way undercut our commitment to the importance of heterosexual marriage seems illogical to me.  Look at the failure of our churches and wider culture to sustain permanent heterosexual marriages.  To think that now gay marriage is a threat to heterosexual marriage seems misguided—obviously other things have created the crisis.  Blessing people who want to make a commitment of fidelity to one person for life would, I think, only strengthen the broader institution of marriage (and perhaps provide heterosexual people with some positive role models!). 

It is true that the Bible only speaks of marriage between men and women.  Such biblical allusions encourage us to value marriage a great deal and should lead the churches to work hard at supporting the child-rearing task many marriages have.  However, I simply don’t see a connection between valuing heterosexual marriage and childrearing as our norm on the one hand (which I strongly do) and finding same-sex marriage to be bad on the other hand (which I don’t). 

To be an exception to the norm need not make something a threat to that norm.  We affirm other exceptions to the norm of male + female for life + children without seeing them as a threat—for example, marriages without children and second marriages for divorced folks.  Why can’t we see same-sex marriage as complementary to heterosexual marriage—a way to affirm another kind of life partnership that operates with fidelity and commitment in satisfying the human need for emotional and physical intimacy?

 (3) Does the Bible command Christians not to enter into same-sex partnerships? The Christian tradition has, of course, centered its negative attitude toward same-sex partnerships on the third of our points – that the Bible has been understood to be commanding Christians not to be part of such partnerships.  In this final section, I will respond to this issue.

First of all, I think we should ask for clear proof that the Bible requires Christians to override what I see to be an inclination otherwise toward welcome of gays and lesbians who trust in Jesus and who follow the same ethical norms concerning sexuality as heterosexual people.  When we read the Bible looking for such proof one thing we will notice is that the Bible does not contain any direct commands to Christians concerning same-sex relationships.

(a) Leviticus. The Bible contains only a tiny handful of texts that can be read as in any way speaking directly to same-sex relationships.  The only place where the texts voice a command directed to people in the community of faith is in the book of Leviticus, chapters 18 and 20. 

If this is indeed the only direct command, we may question whether it can serve as a normative statement for Christians.  Most obviously, the statements in Leviticus come in the context of a number of other commands that Christians do not believe are normative for our ethics: not planting more than one crop in a given field, not wearing clothing of mixed fibers, not having sex during a woman’s period, no masturbation.  As important Leviticus indeed is for Christian ethics in a general, background kind of way, we do not look there for our direct commands for Christian ethics.

Also, Leviticus speaks only to the behavior of men, not of same sex intimacy in general.  In the direct context of the prohibition on males having sex with other males are various other prohibitions that have to do with male sexual behavior.  So we need to ask what might the reasons be for this kind of specific prohibition that clearly is not a general statement about all possible expressions of same-sex sexual intimacy.

I think the immediate context for those commands concerning men not having sex with other men may be this:  It was, in part at least, related to the need for children in their community, and the problem of men “wasting their seed” and hence not focusing on the bringing of children into their society.  Hence, we have prohibitions in Leviticus 19:19-24 of sexual acts that do not produce legitimate offspring: masturbation, having sex with their wives during their periods, sex outside of marriage, sex with animals.  Plus, there is the one non-sexual prohibition—direct child sacrifice (obviously resulting in the loss of offspring).

In trying to make sense of this list of prohibitions, it seems that we should search for an explanation of them that includes all of the pieces (for example, the idea that the prohibition of male/male sex stems from a concern with two men being too much like one another and human/animal sex involving partners too much unlike one another seems doubtful because it does not speak at all to the prohibitions of child sacrifice or masturbation or sex during menstruation).  The most obvious rationale is this concern for offspring.  And that clearly is a context-specific basis that we would not longer find binding. 

Some of the prohibitions (such as adultery and bestiality) we continue to accept because we have reasons beyond simply their being listed here in Leviticus. Some of the other prohibitions (such as masturbation and sex during menstruation [which relies on a view of feminine impurity that we now reject]) we no longer follow.  So, the normativity of the prohibition of male/male sex needs to be established on grounds beyond simply its presence here in Leviticus. 

The Leviticus commands would have more weight if we had other complementary texts that told why men having sex with men was a problem or that illustrated this problem by telling a story about it (such as how the story of David with Bathsheba illustrates the problem with adultery).  But we don’t.  So, the Leviticus text is merely a cryptic command with no explanation of its meaning.

When we turn to the New Testament, we have three texts that are commonly cited.  Romans 1 and 1 Corinthians 6 are the more important of the three – 1 Timothy 1 seems clearly derivative from 1 Corinthians 6 and adds no additional content.

(b) Romans 1 and 1 Corinthians 6. The Romans and 1 Corinthians texts both use allusions to same-sex sex in order to address issues other than the sexual behavior of people in the churches.  Neither is framed as a statement to Christians: Paul does not say, this is what you are and are not to do in your sexual relationships.  Instead, both texts illustrate unjust behavior of people outside the community of faith in order to make points about Christian behavior that have nothing to do with sexual practices. 

In Romans 1, Paul challenges all people, in the church and out, to recognize that they are sinful and in need of the mercy of God shown through Jesus Christ.  Paul points to idolatrous behavior (including lustful sex) on the part of those outside the community of faith.  He does this in order then to tell his readers that they too are sinful (“all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God”) and that they have no basis for being self-righteous and judgmental toward others.

Of course, Paul does not imply that the unjust behaviors of these idolaters are morally acceptable.  But this behavior is clearly that of unbelievers and is obviously violent and unjust (as the other elements of their behavior that he mentions make clear—murder, strife, heartlessness, and the like).  Paul does not have in mind people within the churches whose lives are consistently faithful except perhaps for the gender of their intimate partners.

In 1 Corinthians 6, Paul takes up the problem of people who are part of the Christian fellowship suing others in their congregation in secular courts.  Paul sharply rejects such actions.  He says the people who run those secular courts are unjust, just as the Corinthians Christians used to be before meeting Christ.  To drive this point home, Paul lists various types of characteristics of such unjust people.  In this list, all the items allude to injustice of one kind or another.  Paul here uses two words without explanation that are often translated (I would say, misleadingly) in ways that have homosexual connotations.

One of the these words, malakos, literally means “soft” and is used in Matthew’s gospel of a “soft” coat.  In various first-century texts it has the sense of morally soft in general and sometimes of morally soft in relation to sexual behavior.  In these latter cases, at least sometimes it appears that part of the problem is seen to be in male effeminacy.  So, malakos could have a connotation of male/male sexuality in some contexts, but need not.  It could simply mean morally lax in a general sense.

The other word, arsenokoitai, may have a sense of male/male sexual behavior since it literally means “men laying.”  This could imply “men laying other men” along the lines of the Greek translation of the Leviticus 18 and 20 texts (though it could also imply “men laying” with prostitutes or other men’s wives).  We simply have no way of knowing the precise meaning Paul had in mind.  He does not spell it out in 1 Corinthians 6, and there are no other writings that we know of in all of the first century that ever use this word except 1 Timothy 1:10.

Regardless of what arsenokoitai literally means, it does seem clear that in 1 Corinthians 6, Paul is not concerned with telling Christians how they should behave sexually.  He is concerned with challenging their practice of taking each other to secular courts that are characterized by the worst kinds of injustice.

Conclusion

So, we simply don’t have any direct teaching in the Bible aimed specifically at Christians that would clearly override the biblical bias on behalf of welcoming all who trust in Christ.  Leviticus, Romans, and 1 Corinthians all address concerns very different from the question of whether, for example, a couple I know, two Christian women in a covenanted partnership who live faithful lives, should be restricted in their church involvement only because each is in a monogamous, committed relationship with a woman instead of a man.

That is, there really seems to be no basis in the Bible to forbid same-sex relationships simply based on the fact that they are same-sex.  But there are bases in the Bible to welcome as full members into the fellowship people who are inappropriately labeled “sinners.”

Today’s American Christian churches face major challenges in the face of failed heterosexual marriages, in the face of sexual misbehavior of all kinds.  I would suggest that the best place to draw our lines is not in excluding same-sex couples who are committed to fidelity and monogamy.  Rather, all of us who believe in fidelity and monogamy and sex only in the context of covenanted relationships should make common cause and embrace such fidelity wherever it occurs, creating communities that encourage faithfulness from all of us in our intimate relationships.

The Conquest: God’s Dark Side?—Joshua 1–11

Leave a reply

Here is the eighth in a series of Bible studies that present the Bible as being in the side of pacifism. In this essay, “The Conquest: God’s Dark Side?” I consider one of the Old Testament’s most often-cited “problem texts”—the story of the conquest of the land of Canaan under Joshua’s leadership. This conquest, infamously, includes extraordinary and indiscriminate violence. While trying hard to take this story seriously and to respect its integrity in the biblical account, I also suggest that we need to (1) read it in the context of the broader biblical story that culminates in the witness of Jesus, (2) note important points of continuity between Joshua and Jesus (such as a rejection of human warrior-kings as the center of politics and a commitment on God’s part to intervene on behalf of the vulnerable and oppressed), and (3) pay close attention to the points of discontinuity (especially concerning the use of violence) that lead to an affirmation of Jesus’ revelation as superseding the understanding of God in Joshua.

The Gift of the Law—Exodus 20

Leave a reply

Here is the seventh in a series of Bible studies that present the Bible as being in the side of pacifism. In this essay, “The Gift of the Law,” I reflect on the Ten Commandments as an introduction to Old Testament law. I focus on the commandment, “thou shall not murder” and its implications for pacifism. I suggest that its relevance lay not so much in setting out an absolute command to be pacifists as in establishing that God is the author of life, not human beings, and that the significance of this understanding evolves eventually to lead to clarity about pacifism by the time of Jesus.

In and Out of Egypt—Genesis 37–50; Exodus 1–15

Leave a reply

Here is the sixth in a series of Bible studies that present the Bible as being in the side of pacifism. In this essay, “In and Out of Egypt,” I consider two very different stories–Joseph and his brothers in Genesis 37–50 and the liberation of the Hebrews from slavery in Egypt in Exodus 1–15. When we read these stories together, I suggest that see in the Joseph account, which is a kind of exemplar story, also a dark side with its account of the Hebrews got into Egypt and the role Joseph played in greatly extending the Pharaoh’s power. At the same time, the Exodus story, even with its troubling portrayal of God’s violence, actually sets the stage for the emerging central peace message of the Bible–God on the side of prophets not warriors, God working to liberate people from the oppressive domination of Empires and kings.