Who's Singing Next to You?

 I’ve been reading about the work of English Baptist theologian and leader Dan Taylor (1738-1816). Taylor was an advocate for congregational singing; he believed it blessed the whole church. Some of his fellow Baptists weren’t so sure. They believed such singing violated Paul’s rule against women speaking in church (I Cor. 14:34). Taylor’s view eventually prevailed. Isn’t it curious how we will take some verses and squeeze every imaginable implication, however improbable, from them? Yet, we take a command like “Love your neighbor” to mean we should love people who look like us—and maybe not all of them. 

A Medic Alert Bracelet for Snow White?

 Have you heard? Disney is being pressured to change their “Snow White Ride” because the Prince gives the unconscious Snow White a kiss without her consent.

Now just a minute here, this story includes a woman who hands our poisoned apples, and the kiss is what people worry about? Makes you wonder. 

And, what about those dwarfs? 

--Dopey: Come on, many, many good people are not destined for Harvard, and may even spend their lives in repetitive work (dumping inferior diamonds, for example), but do we really have to label?

--Grumpy: He spends his days in a hole in the ground, sure he might not be cheerful, and might even be irritable at times … but if people live up to our expectations, what if we called him “Sanguine” instead. We could give him a chance to change, to live up to a new image.

--Happy: If Grumpy sees the flagon as half empty, Happy sees it as half full. I guess he’s the opposite of Grumpy, the mirror image…. Wait. Snow White was a simple girl. How much did she know about math? Could there have been only six dwarfs? What if the Happy/Grumpy dwarf (or the Grumpy/Happy dwarf) was a single dwarf suffering from bipolar disorder. Far-fetched? Maybe not. Several biographers suggest Walt Disney experienced severe mood swings. Do Grumpy and Happy add up to a cry for help?

--Sneezy: Since moving to Texas I’ve learned a lot about what the locals call “Cedar Fever.” It’s an allergic reaction to “cedar pollen” in the air. It really slows some people down. Imagine the poor kid who goes to school every day with a red nose and watery eyes to face his friends calling him “Sneezy.” How insensitive.

--Sleepy: I have a relative with narcolepsy. It isn’t funny. She is afraid to drive long distances by herself for fear she will fall asleep at the wheel. Again, insensitivity reigns: A sleepy dwarf is a funny dwarf.

--Bashful: We don’t know a lot about him. He tends to be a bit reticent, reserved. In a world where the extravert gets the attention, we overlook the Bashfuls. Yet he could be the deepest, most insightful of the dwarfs. But we’ll never know.

--Doc: It’s a bit of a cliché, but he’s older and therefore wiser. Was he once a doctor? If so, what tragic event sent him into the mines—the dwarfs are miners, you know.

But wait. The dwarfs are miners. What are they doing to the environment? Why should they have all that wealth (diamonds)? Did the mine belong to the pixies before the dwarfs came along? Is it silly to make so much fuss over a fairy tale? Yeah, probably.

Maybe Disney should give Snow White a Medic Alert bracelet. It could say, “Any handsome prince who finds me, while I am suffering from an enchantment, has my consent to give me a kiss.”

Some Lessons from X-Files

 Gillian Anderson has recently won her second Golden Globe. She won her first in 1997 for playing Special Agent Dana Scully in the science-fiction series X-Files. Her second was awarded earlier this year for her portrayal of another tough lady, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, in The Crown. While I suspect her Thatcher may have lacked balance, favoring the harsher memories of her critics rather than the more balanced realty, I want to use her role as the UFO skeptic to offer up a few lessons from the iconic X-Files. Here are five just to prime your thinking. If you were a fan like I was, you will probably recall more.

-When you say, “The truth is out there,” you’re motivated to look.

-Having a friend who doesn’t believe everything you say may be a good thing.

-Don’t discount the existence of a hidden enemy who doesn’t want the truth known.

-Conspiracy nerds (i.e., The Lone Gunmen) may know more than you first imagine.

-When you start saying, “I want to believe,” you may become susceptible to error.

Easter and the Popular Theologian

 Tomorrow is Easter. Today is what some have called “Silent Saturday.” It refers to the disciples huddled together, whispering their fears about the reach of “the authorities” and quietly voicing their profound disappointment. The crucifixion had broken their hearts. They had no idea (though they had been told) what the next morning would bring.

You don’t have to be an expert in world religions to know the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth is crucial to understanding Christianity. 

A popular theologian—yes, such creatures apparently exist—offers up what many of his disciples see as a more palatable explanation of the cross than the traditional view offers. (I will leave the popular theologian unnamed since, despite claims that his viewpoint is new, he really represents a certain type of theologian, a type who has been around for centuries.) Instead of the cross being a place where a man died to placate an angry God, the popular theologian sees the cross a place where a man died to self—his self-centeredness, selfishness. This allows the popular theologian to avoid what he sees as troubling aspects of the standard explanation of the cross. As for the resurrection—the Easter event—our focus shouldn’t be on a lone man leaving the tomb, but on the light emanating from that tomb, a light filling the whole world. Indeed, some of the popular theologian’s critics wonder if he believes the resurrection was the kind of event that could have been captured on cell phone cameras had they been around in the first century. The popular theologian believes his view frees God from scandalous character flaws more traditional orthodoxy attributes to Him. The popular theologian probably believes this. 

The popular theologian claims he is rescuing God’s reputation; in fact, he is rescuing humanity’s reputation. The cross doesn’t show how harsh God is; is shows how bad we are. Only the death of God’s Son could deal with the problem of sin. 

The popular theologian doesn’t like the imagery of sacrifice when the cross is mentioned, even though that image is found everywhere in the New Testament. In Hebrews 9:23, Jesus provides the better sacrifice. In Romans 3:24-26, Jesus is described as providing “propitiation” for our sins. I have left the popular theologian unidentified, but I will respond to his thinking using an old cliché about Christianity. If he is Protestant, he must deal with Paul who says, “We have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins….” (Ephesians 1:7 AV).  If he is Roman Catholic, he must deal with Peter who says, “you were not redeemed with corruptible things as gold or silver, from your vain conversation [way of life] of the tradition of your fathers: But with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb unspotted and undefiled…” (I Peter 1:18,19 Douay-Rheims).

In short, the popular theologian does not take our sins seriously, nor the depth of God’s love. Rather than the cross proving God’s harshness, the cross proves God’s love—self-sacrificing love. It can’t be much clearer than Romans 5:8, “Christ proved God’s passionate love for us by dying in our place while we were still lost and ungodly!”

Look for references to the cross in the New Testament and you’re likely to find, close by, a reference to the resurrection. Though the initial response to the Risen Jesus showing up may have been, “Well, that was unexpected,” further reflection produced another response, “Well, of course.” The earliest preachers insisted it would have been a monumental injustice for Jesus to remain in the grave and, linked to this, was the claim that his resurrection proved who he was: God’s Anointed, the Messiah, in fact, God Incarnate (Acts 2:39, Romans 1:4, Philippians 2:9). At the same time, they argued the resurrection was evidence Christ’s self-sacrifice provided effectively dealt with our sins and provided salvation (Romans 4:25). 

Now what I have just outlined in the last three paragraphs is a kind of generic theology.  It’s what you would expect to hear in an Easter sermon. In fact, if you hear a sermon on Easter, you will probably be able to guess what the preacher is going to say next. That’s not a bad thing, but it’s something the popular theologian can use. He offers novelty. He offers to give you insights your parents don’t have. If you embrace, what the popular theologian has to say, you a cut above the ordinary Christian. You have special knowledge.  You are more mature. (Huh, that almost sound like Gnosticism. But mustn’t digress.)

Sure, the popular theologian’s promise of living in a new way, selflessly, lovingly, sounds good. But, it is an empty promise without the cross and the empty tomb. The popular theologian’s alternative leaves you powerless. The orthodoxy of the Bible promises Christ’s resurrection power, mediated through the Holy Spirit in your life (Acts 2:33). 

So, this Easter be aware of the popular theologian. Don’t let yourself be fooled by about how good you are, about how you can be like Jesus on your own. It sounds good, but it doesn’t work. 

The popular theologian will never go away. He shows up whenever people want to hear they are not so bad that Christ had to die for them, wherever we want to hear how much we can do if we really try, with no need for silly notions like repentance and forgiveness. Instead, the popular theologian flatters our egos. That’s why the popular theologian is popular. But remember, the popular theologian has traded truth for popularity.

Maybe Next Year, Part 2

 

Hierarchicalism has unintended consequences. Husbands, fathers, boyfriends, brothers who may be prone to violence may use the stance to “encourage” the women in their lives to be properly submissive. 

Even if it were successfully demonstrated that hierarchicalism is the Biblical model for family relationships, nothing in the Bible allows for violence toward wives and daughters. Not when Paul says, “the husband must give his wife the same sort of love that Christ gave to the Church, when he sacrificed himself for her” (Eph. 5:25 Phillips).

For centuries English common law allowed husbands to beat their wives, as long as the stick used was no thicker than a man’s thumb. Puritans in seventeenth century New England may have passed the first laws to make wife-beating illegal. By no means did they espouse egalitarianism, but they did recognize such violence had no place in their community. 

In a climate when family violence seems rife, those who insist hierarchicalism is the Biblical vision for marriages must take extra steps to make sure husbands and wives should know physical and psychological violence cannot be tolerated. No pastor must ever tell a bruised wife that staying in the path of her husband’s fists is God’s will for her. No church must ever allow an abusive husband to remain in a position of authority and influence; if his wife may not be a deacon merely because of her gender, his behavior should certainly preclude his having the title. With that, I will move on.  

There is yet another hurdle those committed to hierarchicalism must face. By its very tenets, the doctrine limits the freedom of more than half of those within Christ’s church. I say “more than half” deliberately: since at least the seventeenth century more women than men have been active participants in the church. Limiting their freedom is a significant privilege to presume. It demands certainty. 

Yet, curiously, J. I. Packer, in an article in Christianity Today, admits there are questions about the crucial passage I Timothy 2:13-14 but urges churches to give Paul “the benefit of the doubt” and refuse to ordain women (11 February 1991). When I first read those words, I wondered why giving Paul that benefit of the doubt meant assuming the apostle intended to support a viewpoint which coincidentally was the viewpoint Packer held. How can we presume to limit the freedom of our spiritual sisters when we are not convinced beyond “doubt” Paul sanctioned our doing so?

Unlike Packer, not a few of those who believe Paul was proposing gender hierarchy within the church would never admit there are questions about the passage. Objections to their viewpoint simply won’t be allowed. I once heard a local radio host in Columbus, Ohio, answer a listener’s question about women preaching. He said, “Anyone who allows women to preach has to explain away Paul’s words in First Timothy.” That’s it; that was his answer. The man who had spent years as a pastor could not imagine that anyone who disagreed with him might actually be offering a reasonable alternative understanding of Paul’s words, not simply explaining them away or dismissing them. 

It will be impossible to persuade such a man that there might be another way to read the texts he has so long assumed supported his viewpoint. So, I will abandon that endeavor.

Instead, I will ask you to pursue the answers to a few questions.

Have you ever considered what our churches are losing by preventing women from making full use of their talents as leaders, teachers, preachers?

Why would Paul praise women as co-workers, allow them to prophesy, and describe them as church leaders in other places, yet seemingly limit their roles in a couple passages in his letters to Timothy and Titus?

If they were allowed to teach and preach, could women give us greater insights into marriage, family life, and domestic violence than male teachers and preachers?

What can we do to make sure our daughters and sons hear about the many female heroes in church history? (Why should our children know about John Smith but not Anne Hutchinson?)

Could the church’s youthful critics—who see Christianity as sexist—be exposing a family secret, one that demands we reevaluate our glib repetition of old formulas?

If we had more women leaders, would our churches and denominations have been so inclined to support men who demean women and trivialize assault?  

Is it possible Paul’s words that seem to limit the freedom of women did not lay down eternal principles; but, rather, were addressing specific situations?

That’s a start. Maybe answering these questions won’t persuade you to take an egalitarian stance, but maybe you will come away with a better understanding of those who already stand there. If you are an egalitarian, maybe this exercise will strengthen your case.

During this Women’s History Month, it seems appropriate to challenge some of ways women are being treated, ways that should be history. Maybe someday.

Hope for the "New" Normal

 I am sitting at the kitchen table as I look through the window at the brilliant sunshine. The grass is turning green, some trees are blossoming. It’s hard to believe that just over a month ago I would have been sitting here shivering because we had no electricity, looking through the window at snow and ice, and hoping none of our pipes had frozen. More than eighty people died during that freak-weather induced blackout; certainly, too many to allow media darlings to mock Texas. We’d seen bad weather in Ohio, but not like this. In Ohio we were prepared (on both the community and personal level). Ohio’s Franklin County has a fleet of snowplows; here our county has none. When we had no electricity in Ohio, we could slip away to any mall that was open or to the library to warm-up and recharge electronics; here the roads were covered with ice and many places like the malls and libraries were also dark. (Of course, the pandemic would have kept us home.) 

As bad as it was it could have been worse. We were able to drive the car a little way out of the garage to charge cell phones.  We could drink the water, though not all of our neighbors could (some had no water at all). We had food. We had a stock of tuna and peanut butter. Had the blackout lasted much longer we might have tried mixing them, but it never came to that. Our son and friends in Ohio checked on us. Neighbors here checked on one another. Our power went out on Monday morning, it came back Thursday noon. Others were still without power two weeks later. 

On Friday, my EMT neighbor and I shoveled snow off the driveway. On Saturday, our son, daughter-in-law, and Grandson showed up to help shovel snow off the deck and elsewhere. In recent days we’ve turned off the furnace, taken pleasant walks, planted flowers to replace those killed by the cold, and even cut the grass. It gives me hope that whatever “normal” may mean after the pandemic won’t be too unfamiliar.

A Christian theologian, I believe God cares for us and uses “agents” to help mediate his grace. Maybe those agents include a wife who suggested we buy a dozen cans of tuna just a couple weeks before the storm. Maybe God is responsible for the whim that prompted me to say we should get some peanut butter, though I can go weeks without eating it. Maybe those agents include the folks who called, texted, or just showed up.

Oh yes, Krissy our dog has apparently forgiven us for making her cold. Though, I’m not sure our neighbor’s cats have forgiven them.

Maybe Next Year

 One Sunday, while a first-year seminary student, I preached at a small rural church. After the service, one of the saints, thanked me for my “talk.”  If someone could confuse my sermon for a talk, I suppose someone could confuse Beth Moore’s talks for sermons. 

Beth Moore recently announced she was leaving the Southern Baptist Convention. The popular Bible teacher and author explained her departure by pointing to the continuing support given to Donald Trump by certain key figures in the denomination. Such support, she believes, evidences an indifference to women’s concerns. 

In recent years, Moore has been criticized, not only for opposing Trump (and supposedly supporting Hillary Clinton), but also for allegedly preaching. Moore does not call herself a preacher, but her critics apparently believe she has crossed the line from teaching to preaching. Almost certainly, that dear lady from the rural church could explain to me why I was merely giving “a talk” while Moore is preaching. But I digress.

What finally prompted Moore to break with the Convention was its response to the sexual abuse of women by pastors and other leaders. Although, the Convention has issued statements condemning such abuse, Moore and others feel the response lacks the commitment to do the difficult work of removing offenders from places of influence, large and small. 

It is hard to deny this charge. Paige Patterson was removed from the presidency of Southwestern Seminary for failing to act on accusations made by a female student against a fellow student, whom she said raped her at gunpoint. Moreover, Patterson allegedly attempted to coerce the student to keep silent and portrayed her as a willing participant in the sexual activity. Yet, even after the trustees dismissed Patterson, they wanted to give him the title of president emeritus and appoint him (and his wife) as “theologians in residence,” a status that would provide a nice residence on the campus. The revelation that Patterson apparently had a treated another female student the same way while he was president of another school, prompted the trustees to terminate him with no plans to appoint him to any other position. 

In response, over two-dozen wealthy Southern Baptists, all donors to the seminary, insisted Patterson be kept as part of the school’s leadership team. Using a tactic familiar to every Baptist pastor who ever dealt with furious members united in a coterie, they threatened to end their support of the seminary. 

In an angry letter to the trustees, they wrote, “Dr. and Mrs. Patterson continue to have our absolute and unwavering support. They are both esteemed scholars and were stately ambassadors for the Seminary. Your treatment of them is a travesty that must not go unaddressed.” (Julie Zaumer, “Angry donors threaten to withhold money from seminary that fired Paige Patterson,” The Washington Post, 4 July 2018. Emphasis added.) Only a nationwide protest kept trustees from acting on the demands. Reportedly, Patterson was later hired as an adjunct professor at another seminary. His job: teaching ethics.

From my standpoint, it is easy to understand why Moore and many other women were angry.

Now, I am not writing about sexual abuse. Rather, I am addressing the matter of unintended consequences. But before I do so, I need to briefly define a couple terms. First, hierarchicalism. This notion says God intends men to play the role of leader in any relationship with women. Those who hold this position insist it does not demean women, nor does it suggest women are less intelligent or somehow inferior to men. It simply insists this is God’s plan. A simple analogy comes from the US Constitution. A naturalized citizen has the same rights and status as a native-born citizen. However, according to the Constitution, the naturalized citizen may not serve as President of the United States. (Hence the unfounded “Birther conspiracy.”) In the same way, despite not being in anyway inferior, women are barred from leading churches. In contrast, egalitarianism is the notion that men and women are equal in every way. If there are innate differences in the genders, they do not diminish the value of either. Significantly, egalitarians believe women may have any role in the church, including deacon, elder, or pastor. A third important term is “complementarian,” which will be clarified later.

Fairness demands I admit the hierarchical position has supporters among women. Dorothy Patterson has a Doctor of Ministry degree from Luther Rice Seminary and a Doctor of Theology degree from the University of South Africa, so she is sometimes called “Dr. Patterson.” Dr. Dorothy Patterson, who has been described as "one of today's leading scholars on the topic of biblical womanhood” (The Christian Post, 12 May 2013), helped prepare the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message which raised hierarchicalism to confessional status for Southern Baptists. She is an editor of The Women’s Study Bible, which promotes the hierarchical interpretation. Her popularity reminds me that a surprising number of women are content with this viewpoint, believing it provides God-given protection from the challenges men face in church leadership. Not every woman agrees.

Many women believe hierarchicalism leads to attitudes that foster abuse. Beth Moore does not believe this, but writers like Ruth A. Tucker (Black and White Bible, Black and Blue Wife) and Kristin Kobes DuMez (Jesus and John Wayne) apparently do. If their assessment is correct, I hope it is an unintended consequence. In truth, any man who wishes to physically, emotionally, or sexually abuse his wife needs no theological justification. However, that man’s pastor may find hierarchicalism a hinderance to counselling the abused wife or correcting the abusive husband (if you’re the “head” how can you tolerate defiance). In the same way, the pastor might, for example, find it difficult to tell the woman to defy her husband and leave.

This may be why some who embrace hierarchicalism prefer the term “complementarian” for their perspective. It is a promising term but a little confusing. Many egalitarians would insist that they, too, are complementarians, believing that whatever—spiritual, emotional, or intellectual—it is that makes a woman a woman and whatever—spiritual, emotional, or intellectual—it is that makes a man a man lie behind the words of the Creation story: “So God created man in his own image, . . . male and female he created them.” (Genesis 1:27 NIV) Each half of humanity stands alone while completing the other half.

I know men and women with hierarchical convictions; they would be incensed at the suggestion they endorse spousal abuse. I’ve seen no reason to doubt their commitment to the safety of women. Even so, this does not mean the position cannot be misinterpreted or distorted.  I’ve concluded those who do not listen very carefully (or humbly) to the explanation of the hierarchical position will almost inevitably suspect (or insist) there is something lacking in the female, spiritually, emotionally, or mentally. This deficiency precludes their serving as leaders in the church.  While more sophisticated hierarchicalists might speak of “the order of creation,” that suspicion of innate female inferiority will persist among many who hear them. Convinced of this, they may find a license to treat women with disdain.

Those who believe the hierarchical view is thought in scripture have the responsibility to insist the view allow no room for bullying or abuse in any form. Honesty demands the admission they have often failed.

During this Women’s History Month, it seems appropriate to challenge some of ways women are being treated, ways that should be history. Maybe someday