Posts
http://christthetao.blogspot.com/2015/12/bart-ehrman-scams-his-students.html
Note: I don't endorse the post's provocative title, but the post itself is an informative evaluation of Ehrman's argument.
Sunday, December 6, 2015
Jamie Duguid on Elisha and the She-Bears
Yesterday, Derek Rishmawy posted some comments about the troubling story in II Kings 2 about God sending she-bears to maul young people who were mocking the prophet Elisha. Jamie Duguid
left an informative comment under Derek’s post about that story, from a
different perspective. Among other topics, Jamie was disagreeing with
the conservative Christian argument that the young people in the story
were young adults rather than children, and he was also placing the
story within the context of other passages in the Hebrew Bible.
Here is his comment:
Here is his comment:
First off, as an avid student of the Old Testament, I am always happy to see people taking the time to wrestle with these difficult OT texts. So it makes me happy to see you doing that! I have enjoyed a lot of your blog posts before, but since this happens to be a pet issue of mine, I am going to go ahead and jump in for the first time.
This is, of course, one of those classic difficult texts, and the idea that these were not little kids but menacing adolescents or something is argued by several scholars. However, it is definitely wrong for a couple reasons:
1) While it is true that the word for “boys” here, “naʕar,” can mean a young boy, a young man, or a servant of any age, dependent on context, it is modified here by “small, ” “qāṭān.” “Naʕar” may be a spectrum, but it seems to me that when modified by “small,” it must refer to the younger end of the spectrum. After all, what would we be meant to think of if we translated the phrase “small young men?” How are they small? The best explanation is that here, “naʕar” means “boy” in the sense of “child.”
2) The same children are referred to by the noun “yeled” in v. 24. Now this noun almost always designates very young children. While this noun too can mean a young man in some contexts (often where the youth of a young man is emphasized), it more usually refers to children.
3) We should probably read this story against the background of Leviticus 26:22, where one of the covenant curses is that wild beasts will attack the children of the Israelites (see also Deut 32:24-25). Leithart is right to bring up Bethel’s idolatrous associations, but misses the fact that wild animals attacking *children* is actually the sort of judgment we might expect upon such a wicked city.
4) It is not uncommon in the book of Kings for harsh punishment to be meted out for minor offenses. Think of the man of God in chapter 13 who is killed by a lion, even though his disobedience seems reasonable given the lie the second prophet tells. Or the son of a prophet who is destined to be killed (again by a lion), just for refusing to hit someone (1 Kings 20:35-43). What these passages, together with 2 Kings 2, have in common (other than the punishment always being meted out by wild beasts) is that in each case the sin involves insufficient respect for the prophet/prophetic word. I think these passages seemed harsh to their original audience as well. I think the point being communicated here is the extreme danger of deviating even slightly from the prophetic word. The very harshness of the passages is meant to make us sit up and say, “Wow, I guess God takes his Word very seriously, much more seriously than I do.” It is especially important to remember that these stories occur in the context of competing false prophets, who also claimed to bring the Word of Yahweh. Ultimately, the fact that Israel was not sufficiently careful to listen to the true prophets of Yahweh lead to catastrophe for the nation. These harsh moments along the way were meant to be warnings that could have prevented this.
What about the theodicy question though? Well, that is still difficult, but I don’t see that we gain much by trying to edit the children out of the story here. We would still have God’s threat of curses resulting in the death of small children in Leviticus 26:22 and Deuteronomy 32:25 to deal with. And the infamous Psalm 137:9. For that matter, this whole issue is raised simply by the doctrine of original sin: after all, if you say that all children are culpable for Adam’s sin, and thus deserving of divine wrath, but you have a problem with this story, you might want to go back a little bit and think about what “deserving of divine wrath” really means, because this is just the practical outworking of it.
I don’t have an easy answer to that question. God’s judgment seems overly-harsh to me too sometimes. But since I am convinced that Scripture teaches these things, I usually assume that the problem is with me. And maybe it is ok to be horrified by God sometimes… God is perfectly just in his wrath, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that his wrath is something we will ever be totally comfortable with.James here again. You may also be interested in this post that I wrote a while back about II Kings 2.
Saturday, December 5, 2015
Can God Give What God Does Not Have?
Years ago, a group of us at the church that I attended was getting
into some theological discussions. Our Sabbath school lesson was about
the rebellion of Satan and his angels against God: you probably know the
story about how Satan was originally an angel, but he rebelled against
God, and that’s how he became Satan. We were puzzling over how angels
could have revolted against God. Where did they get the thought that
inspired them to do that? The reason that we were puzzled was that one
person in the group had said that being in the presence of God
transforms a person for the better. We were an independent Seventh-Day
Adventist church, and one of Ellen White’s (a prophetess and founder of
Seventh-Day Adventism) often-repeated sayings, which was probably based
on II Corinthians 3:18, was that, by beholding God, we become changed. How could angels be in the presence of God, beholding God, and yet decide to rebel against God?
We eventually got into questions about free will, since that was part of the pastor’s solution to our question about Satan, and someone asked if God had free will. We were a little hesitant to go that far, for would that suggest that God was able to sin? (Many of them believed, however, that God, in Jesus, had taken on sinful flesh at the incarnation and thus was tempted to sin, but that is another story.) There was also the consideration that we, as human beings, had free will. Someone asked, “Can God give what he does not have?”
In response to that, I made a point that was a good point, but one that I could have made more elegantly. I said that God gave trees bark, but that does not mean that God has bark. That probably sounds silly, but I think that the point that I was trying to make was valid. God does not necessarily share the attributes that God gives to creatures. God can make creatures and things that are different from Godself. God can give characteristics that God does not possess as part of God’s nature.
I read Archie Spencer’s The Analogy of Faith a while back, and I learned from that book that there does seem to have been a belief in the history of philosophical and Christian thought that there is an analogy between God’s creation and the way that God is, and that one reason for this is that God caused the creation to exist. In short, this belief states that one can look at creation and draw conclusions about God (natural theology). Indeed, there are passages from Scripture that appear to suggest this: Genesis 1:27’s statement that God created human beings in God’s image, and Paul’s statement in Romans 1:20 that aspects of God are understood by the things that are made.
How does this relate to the questions of whether God has free will, or whether God can give what God does not have? I would say that Genesis 1:27 is relevant to the question of whether God has free will: we, human beings, have free will, and we are made in God’s image, so perhaps we can conclude from this that God has free will. At the same time, bringing Romans 1:20 into the discussion, I would not say that God has to share every characteristic with God’s creation, that God can only give what God possesses Godself as part of God’s nature. Obviously, there are features of creation that are different from the way that God Godself is. I would suggest that Romans 1:27 is saying that God’s creation demonstrates the power of God, and maybe even attributes of God: God is not like the sponge, to use a random example, but one can draw conclusions about God’s wisdom by looking at the sponge. What I am saying may actually coincide with the views of some of the natural theologians whom Spencer surveys.
The question of whether God can give what God does not have occurred to me as I was reading “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan,” a Christian document from the fifth century C.E. to the ninth century C.E. In Book 1, Chapter 51, verse 6, the Word of God (who would become Jesus Christ) is telling Adam and Eve about how mistaken they were to follow Satan’s advice in the Garden of Eden. They see Satan’s horrible and pitiful appearance, and the Word of God tells them:
“This is he who promised you majesty and divinity. Where, then, is the beauty that is on him? Where is his divinity? Where is his light? Where is the glory that rested on him?” (The translation is the one in the Lost Books of the Bible and the Forgotten Books of Eden.)
Satan in the Garden of Eden promised Eve that she and her husband would be as gods after they ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (Genesis 3:5). But, after eating the forbidden fruit, they did not become like gods. (Genesis 3:22, however, says that they actually became like god after eating the forbidden fruit, and, while I do not know how, or if, “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan” handles this, you can read this post to see how other ancient interpreters handled it.) Earlier in “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan,” in Chapter 45:5, there appears to be a suggestion on the Word of God’s part that Adam and Eve, on some level, possessed divinity in the Garden of Eden, but Satan deprived them of that when they ate the forbidden fruit. “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan” is probably trying to harmonize themes from the different creation accounts, Genesis 1 and Genesis 2-3 (though he most likely was unaware that they even were different creation accounts): one says that Adam was made by God in the image of God, and the other presents Adam and Eve as wanting to become like god by eating the forbidden fruit.
But back to “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan” Book 1, Chapter 51, verse 6! The Word of God seems to be suggesting there that Satan could not give what Satan himself did not possess. Satan promised Adam and Eve divinity and exaltation, but look at him! He obviously lacks divinity and exaltation! He is pathetic! How can he give what he does not have? If you want exaltation, then you should stick with God, who alone can provide it.
There is a rhyme and reason to what the Word of God is saying in that verse: it is not iron-clad reasonable, but it makes a degree of sense. It is not iron-clad because one can picture scenarios in which a being can exalt others, without himself being exalted. I think of genies: they grant wishes that can exalt the person who found them, but the genies themselves remain subservient. And yet, the Word of God’s reasoning makes a degree of sense, for, if Satan were able to help others by giving them divinity and exaltation, would not Satan at least exalt himself? The fact that he has not given himself divinity, or otherwise possess it, arguably indicates that he cannot make anyone else divine.
In terms of spiritual application, I am encouraged, when I find that I lack love, to go to God, the embodiment and source of love. In my mind, God can give what God has, and what God is.
We eventually got into questions about free will, since that was part of the pastor’s solution to our question about Satan, and someone asked if God had free will. We were a little hesitant to go that far, for would that suggest that God was able to sin? (Many of them believed, however, that God, in Jesus, had taken on sinful flesh at the incarnation and thus was tempted to sin, but that is another story.) There was also the consideration that we, as human beings, had free will. Someone asked, “Can God give what he does not have?”
In response to that, I made a point that was a good point, but one that I could have made more elegantly. I said that God gave trees bark, but that does not mean that God has bark. That probably sounds silly, but I think that the point that I was trying to make was valid. God does not necessarily share the attributes that God gives to creatures. God can make creatures and things that are different from Godself. God can give characteristics that God does not possess as part of God’s nature.
I read Archie Spencer’s The Analogy of Faith a while back, and I learned from that book that there does seem to have been a belief in the history of philosophical and Christian thought that there is an analogy between God’s creation and the way that God is, and that one reason for this is that God caused the creation to exist. In short, this belief states that one can look at creation and draw conclusions about God (natural theology). Indeed, there are passages from Scripture that appear to suggest this: Genesis 1:27’s statement that God created human beings in God’s image, and Paul’s statement in Romans 1:20 that aspects of God are understood by the things that are made.
How does this relate to the questions of whether God has free will, or whether God can give what God does not have? I would say that Genesis 1:27 is relevant to the question of whether God has free will: we, human beings, have free will, and we are made in God’s image, so perhaps we can conclude from this that God has free will. At the same time, bringing Romans 1:20 into the discussion, I would not say that God has to share every characteristic with God’s creation, that God can only give what God possesses Godself as part of God’s nature. Obviously, there are features of creation that are different from the way that God Godself is. I would suggest that Romans 1:27 is saying that God’s creation demonstrates the power of God, and maybe even attributes of God: God is not like the sponge, to use a random example, but one can draw conclusions about God’s wisdom by looking at the sponge. What I am saying may actually coincide with the views of some of the natural theologians whom Spencer surveys.
The question of whether God can give what God does not have occurred to me as I was reading “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan,” a Christian document from the fifth century C.E. to the ninth century C.E. In Book 1, Chapter 51, verse 6, the Word of God (who would become Jesus Christ) is telling Adam and Eve about how mistaken they were to follow Satan’s advice in the Garden of Eden. They see Satan’s horrible and pitiful appearance, and the Word of God tells them:
“This is he who promised you majesty and divinity. Where, then, is the beauty that is on him? Where is his divinity? Where is his light? Where is the glory that rested on him?” (The translation is the one in the Lost Books of the Bible and the Forgotten Books of Eden.)
Satan in the Garden of Eden promised Eve that she and her husband would be as gods after they ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (Genesis 3:5). But, after eating the forbidden fruit, they did not become like gods. (Genesis 3:22, however, says that they actually became like god after eating the forbidden fruit, and, while I do not know how, or if, “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan” handles this, you can read this post to see how other ancient interpreters handled it.) Earlier in “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan,” in Chapter 45:5, there appears to be a suggestion on the Word of God’s part that Adam and Eve, on some level, possessed divinity in the Garden of Eden, but Satan deprived them of that when they ate the forbidden fruit. “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan” is probably trying to harmonize themes from the different creation accounts, Genesis 1 and Genesis 2-3 (though he most likely was unaware that they even were different creation accounts): one says that Adam was made by God in the image of God, and the other presents Adam and Eve as wanting to become like god by eating the forbidden fruit.
But back to “The Conflict of Adam and Eve with Satan” Book 1, Chapter 51, verse 6! The Word of God seems to be suggesting there that Satan could not give what Satan himself did not possess. Satan promised Adam and Eve divinity and exaltation, but look at him! He obviously lacks divinity and exaltation! He is pathetic! How can he give what he does not have? If you want exaltation, then you should stick with God, who alone can provide it.
There is a rhyme and reason to what the Word of God is saying in that verse: it is not iron-clad reasonable, but it makes a degree of sense. It is not iron-clad because one can picture scenarios in which a being can exalt others, without himself being exalted. I think of genies: they grant wishes that can exalt the person who found them, but the genies themselves remain subservient. And yet, the Word of God’s reasoning makes a degree of sense, for, if Satan were able to help others by giving them divinity and exaltation, would not Satan at least exalt himself? The fact that he has not given himself divinity, or otherwise possess it, arguably indicates that he cannot make anyone else divine.
In terms of spiritual application, I am encouraged, when I find that I lack love, to go to God, the embodiment and source of love. In my mind, God can give what God has, and what God is.
Friday, December 4, 2015
Book Write-Up: Reordering the Trinity, by Rodrick K. Durst
Rodrick K. Durst. Reordering the Trinity: Six Movements of God in the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Kregel Academic, 2015. See here to purchase the book.
Is the Trinity in the New Testament? We do see New Testament references that mention the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit all together. Sometimes, that occurs within a formula. An example that many Trinitarian apologists like to cite is Matthew 28:19, in which Jesus commands his disciples to baptize people in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Many Christians are accustomed to ordering the Trinity as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, as Matthew 28:19 does. The Apostle’s Creed and the Nicene Creed do this: they discuss the Father, then the Son, and then the Holy Spirit. But there are places in the New Testament that choose not to follow that particular order. II Corinthians 13:14, for instance, states: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all” (KJV). This passage orders the Trinity as Son, Father, and Holy Spirit.
Is that significant? Are New Testament authors trying to get across a specific point when they order the Trinity as they do? Rodrick Durst thinks so. For him, the Father-Son-Holy Spirit often occurs in the context of God sending God’s people for mission. The order of Son-Spirit-Father often relates to salvation. The order of Son-Father-Spirit often concerns God indwelling believers. The order of Spirit-Father-Son often pertains to sanctification and the believer’s standing in God. The order of Father-Spirit-Son often relates to God shaping us in spiritual formation. And the order of Spirit-Son-Father often concerns God uniting believers in the church. Durst does not just consider formulas that mention the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (in whatever order), but also New Testament passages that discuss them and their work.
Notwithstanding this categorization, Durst seems to recognize, on some level, that things are not that neat. So many of these topics overlap with each other, and one can probably tie all sorts of passages in the New Testament to these topics. At times, as Durst notes, the conversation about the three persons in New Testament passages appears to go on: a New Testament reference may refer to the three persons, then mention one of the persons again a couple of times, not following a strict threefold pattern. Perhaps Durst should have appreciated more than he did the difficulty of categorizing the New Testament references to the three persons; to his credit, however, he does grade each New Testament reference according to how well it supports the categorization in which he is tempted to place it, and a number of references do not get an “A”!
Durst discusses related issues, as well. For one, he is responding to people who do not believe that the Trinity is spiritually practical for believers. He points to Kant and Schleiermacher as two thinkers who had a dismissive attitude towards the Trinity. For Durst, the Trinity is spiritually practical, and the numerous passages in the New Testament about it demonstrate that to be the case. Durst not only discusses the passages one-by-one, but he also includes sample sermons on how to apply the concepts that he discusses.
Second, Durst is responding to those who believe that the Trinity is not a doctrine in the New Testament but was developed after the time of the New Testament. For Durst, the Trinity is in the New Testament, for the New Testament often mentions the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (in whatever order) together. Durst argues that the doctrine of the Trinity may even go back to Jesus himself, and that it actually accords with aspects of the Hebrew Bible. Durst does acknowledge that there has been historical development in the conceptualization of the Trinity, however, and he includes a chapter about patristic attitudes towards the Godhead and the Trinitarian controversies of the fourth century C.E.
Regarding Durst’s categorization of the various orderings of the Trinity in the New Testament, I doubt that the orders can be neatly or rigidly categorized. At the same time, I do believe that, in a number of cases (not necessarily all), the New Testament authors use the order that they use for a reason. If the Son is mentioned first, then something is being emphasized about the Son.
Sharing my religious and academic background may place my following critiques in context. I grew up in a non-Trinitarian denomination, an offshoot of Herbert W. Armstrong’s Worldwide Church of God. Armstrongism was binitarian: it believed that the Father and the Son were God, but that the Holy Spirit was God’s power, not a person within the Godhead. One argument that Armstrongites made is that there are many places in the New Testament that appear binitarian: Paul introduces some of his letters by mentioning the Father and the Son, for example, but he does not mention the Holy Spirit.
When I started studying the New Testament academically (which is not to say that it is my field of study, but that I took classes in it), I encountered the view that the New Testament contains various Christologies, that not every New Testament author conceived of Jesus as God before he came to earth. Some did not present Jesus as pre-existing his earthly life. Some thought that Jesus became divine at his resurrection. There are New Testament scholars today, such as Bart Ehrman, who argue for Christological diversity in the New Testament.
My liberal academic background in religious studies also frowned on treating the Hebrew Bible as a Christian document. Saying that the Trinity or Jesus is in the Hebrew Bible was considered a projection of Christian ideas onto the Hebrew Bible, not an approach that was faithful to the Hebrew Bible’s original messages and meanings.
In light of all that, here are some questions and critiques:
A. Durst does well to note that there are New Testament references that mention the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit all together. At the same time, he should have addressed why there are binitarian passages in the New Testament: passages that mention the Father and the Son, but not the Holy Spirit. Why, for example, does Paul sometimes fail to mention the Holy Spirit in introducing his letters?
B. Although the New Testament mentions the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit together, does that mean that it always assumes a Nicene view of the Trinity in those cases—-a Christology in which Jesus was God before he came to earth, or a conceptualization of the Holy Spirit as a person? A New Testament reference may mention the Son with the Father and the Holy Spirit, but that does not necessarily mean that it believes that the Son pre-existed; it could think that Jesus became the Son at his birth, his baptism, or his resurrection.
C. Durst’s argument that the Hebrew Bible is consistent with the Trinity is thoughtful and rigorous, but not entirely convincing. Durst makes a big deal about the Hebrew Bible using a plural word, Elohim, for God, but Judges 16:23-24 uses elohim for the pagan god Dagon, while using a singular verb to describe what Dagon was allegedly doing. Were the Philistines seeing Dagon as a plural deity? I have my doubts: perhaps the plural is used to highlight the majesty of the deity. Moreover, Durst says some things that, in my opinion, can account for elements of the Hebrew Bible better than the Trinity can. A number of Christians say that the angel of the LORD in the Hebrew Bible was Jesus, one reason being that the angel speaks for God and interacts with people as God. Durst states, however, that there was an ancient belief that messengers represented the person sending them, and that the messengers speaking was the same as their senders speaking. If that is the case, does one have to resort to the Trinity to explain the angel of the LORD’s activity in the Hebrew Bible? Finally, Durst should have explored more deeply whether Second Temple Judaism conceived of God in a plural manner, since that helped form the historical context of the historical Jesus, and Durst seems to want to argue that Jesus teaching the Trinity was consistent with his Jewish heritage.
I received a complimentary review copy of this book from Kregel Academic, in exchange for an honest review.
Is the Trinity in the New Testament? We do see New Testament references that mention the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit all together. Sometimes, that occurs within a formula. An example that many Trinitarian apologists like to cite is Matthew 28:19, in which Jesus commands his disciples to baptize people in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Many Christians are accustomed to ordering the Trinity as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, as Matthew 28:19 does. The Apostle’s Creed and the Nicene Creed do this: they discuss the Father, then the Son, and then the Holy Spirit. But there are places in the New Testament that choose not to follow that particular order. II Corinthians 13:14, for instance, states: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all” (KJV). This passage orders the Trinity as Son, Father, and Holy Spirit.
Is that significant? Are New Testament authors trying to get across a specific point when they order the Trinity as they do? Rodrick Durst thinks so. For him, the Father-Son-Holy Spirit often occurs in the context of God sending God’s people for mission. The order of Son-Spirit-Father often relates to salvation. The order of Son-Father-Spirit often concerns God indwelling believers. The order of Spirit-Father-Son often pertains to sanctification and the believer’s standing in God. The order of Father-Spirit-Son often relates to God shaping us in spiritual formation. And the order of Spirit-Son-Father often concerns God uniting believers in the church. Durst does not just consider formulas that mention the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (in whatever order), but also New Testament passages that discuss them and their work.
Notwithstanding this categorization, Durst seems to recognize, on some level, that things are not that neat. So many of these topics overlap with each other, and one can probably tie all sorts of passages in the New Testament to these topics. At times, as Durst notes, the conversation about the three persons in New Testament passages appears to go on: a New Testament reference may refer to the three persons, then mention one of the persons again a couple of times, not following a strict threefold pattern. Perhaps Durst should have appreciated more than he did the difficulty of categorizing the New Testament references to the three persons; to his credit, however, he does grade each New Testament reference according to how well it supports the categorization in which he is tempted to place it, and a number of references do not get an “A”!
Durst discusses related issues, as well. For one, he is responding to people who do not believe that the Trinity is spiritually practical for believers. He points to Kant and Schleiermacher as two thinkers who had a dismissive attitude towards the Trinity. For Durst, the Trinity is spiritually practical, and the numerous passages in the New Testament about it demonstrate that to be the case. Durst not only discusses the passages one-by-one, but he also includes sample sermons on how to apply the concepts that he discusses.
Second, Durst is responding to those who believe that the Trinity is not a doctrine in the New Testament but was developed after the time of the New Testament. For Durst, the Trinity is in the New Testament, for the New Testament often mentions the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (in whatever order) together. Durst argues that the doctrine of the Trinity may even go back to Jesus himself, and that it actually accords with aspects of the Hebrew Bible. Durst does acknowledge that there has been historical development in the conceptualization of the Trinity, however, and he includes a chapter about patristic attitudes towards the Godhead and the Trinitarian controversies of the fourth century C.E.
Regarding Durst’s categorization of the various orderings of the Trinity in the New Testament, I doubt that the orders can be neatly or rigidly categorized. At the same time, I do believe that, in a number of cases (not necessarily all), the New Testament authors use the order that they use for a reason. If the Son is mentioned first, then something is being emphasized about the Son.
Sharing my religious and academic background may place my following critiques in context. I grew up in a non-Trinitarian denomination, an offshoot of Herbert W. Armstrong’s Worldwide Church of God. Armstrongism was binitarian: it believed that the Father and the Son were God, but that the Holy Spirit was God’s power, not a person within the Godhead. One argument that Armstrongites made is that there are many places in the New Testament that appear binitarian: Paul introduces some of his letters by mentioning the Father and the Son, for example, but he does not mention the Holy Spirit.
When I started studying the New Testament academically (which is not to say that it is my field of study, but that I took classes in it), I encountered the view that the New Testament contains various Christologies, that not every New Testament author conceived of Jesus as God before he came to earth. Some did not present Jesus as pre-existing his earthly life. Some thought that Jesus became divine at his resurrection. There are New Testament scholars today, such as Bart Ehrman, who argue for Christological diversity in the New Testament.
My liberal academic background in religious studies also frowned on treating the Hebrew Bible as a Christian document. Saying that the Trinity or Jesus is in the Hebrew Bible was considered a projection of Christian ideas onto the Hebrew Bible, not an approach that was faithful to the Hebrew Bible’s original messages and meanings.
In light of all that, here are some questions and critiques:
A. Durst does well to note that there are New Testament references that mention the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit all together. At the same time, he should have addressed why there are binitarian passages in the New Testament: passages that mention the Father and the Son, but not the Holy Spirit. Why, for example, does Paul sometimes fail to mention the Holy Spirit in introducing his letters?
B. Although the New Testament mentions the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit together, does that mean that it always assumes a Nicene view of the Trinity in those cases—-a Christology in which Jesus was God before he came to earth, or a conceptualization of the Holy Spirit as a person? A New Testament reference may mention the Son with the Father and the Holy Spirit, but that does not necessarily mean that it believes that the Son pre-existed; it could think that Jesus became the Son at his birth, his baptism, or his resurrection.
C. Durst’s argument that the Hebrew Bible is consistent with the Trinity is thoughtful and rigorous, but not entirely convincing. Durst makes a big deal about the Hebrew Bible using a plural word, Elohim, for God, but Judges 16:23-24 uses elohim for the pagan god Dagon, while using a singular verb to describe what Dagon was allegedly doing. Were the Philistines seeing Dagon as a plural deity? I have my doubts: perhaps the plural is used to highlight the majesty of the deity. Moreover, Durst says some things that, in my opinion, can account for elements of the Hebrew Bible better than the Trinity can. A number of Christians say that the angel of the LORD in the Hebrew Bible was Jesus, one reason being that the angel speaks for God and interacts with people as God. Durst states, however, that there was an ancient belief that messengers represented the person sending them, and that the messengers speaking was the same as their senders speaking. If that is the case, does one have to resort to the Trinity to explain the angel of the LORD’s activity in the Hebrew Bible? Finally, Durst should have explored more deeply whether Second Temple Judaism conceived of God in a plural manner, since that helped form the historical context of the historical Jesus, and Durst seems to want to argue that Jesus teaching the Trinity was consistent with his Jewish heritage.
I received a complimentary review copy of this book from Kregel Academic, in exchange for an honest review.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Movie Summary: A Matter of Faith
I recently watched the 2014 Christian movie, A Matter of Faith. See here to watch the trailer. Familiar faces in the movie include Harry Anderson, who played in the 1980’s sitcom Night Court, and Clarence Gilyard, who played in Matlock; Walker, Texas Ranger; and the first two Left Behind movies.
The movie is about a young woman, Rachel Whitaker, who goes off to a secular university to study biology. There, she takes a class that is taught by Professor Kaman (played by Anderson), an evolutionist and an atheist.
Unlike the atheist professor in God’s Not Dead, Professor Kaman is much more irenic and hopeful in his worldview. His approach is to attract flies with honey, not vinegar. He gives students a “C” just for showing up to all of his class sessions. He uses humor and visual aids (i.e., the rubber chicken and the egg). He is optimistic about the direction in which evolution could go, as he notes that people run faster today than they did in the past. He is not against people looking to faith for comfort, but he is happy when his students “think for themselves” and question conventional wisdom. He did, however, perform one act of intolerance when he first joined the faculty: he got a creationist biology professor, Professor Portland (played by Gilyard), fired for teaching creationism.
Rachel is open to Professor Kaman’s concepts, and that concerns her father, Stephen. Stephen, notices that she has not looked for a church yet, and he learns that she has not been reading her Bible. (He left money in it, then the money fell out of the Bible when he later opened it, showing that she hadn’t been reading it.) Stephen visits the university to meet with Professor Kagan, and Professor Kagan challenges him to a public debate over evolution vs. creationism. The university regularly holds public debates, and Professor Kagan’s department is up, so Professor Kagan has to find a topic. Stephen is reluctant to be in a debate, since he has no experience doing that. What’s more, his daughter, Rachel, does not want him debating in front of the school, since that could embarrass her.
A fellow student, Jason, a Christian, works for the school newspaper. Jason gives Stephen books to prepare him for the debate and suggests that he contact Professor Portland, who refuses to help Stephen because he is bitter about being fired. Jason also reaches out to Rachel, telling her that Professor Kaman is wrong, and encouraging her not just to “add” Jesus to her life, but to submit to Jesus. This is a spoiler, but we learn later that Jason and Rachel crossed paths years before, when they were kids. They were at the lake, a coin was on the ground, and Jason took the coin from Rachel. Jason’s dad used that as an opportunity to teach Jason that he was a sinner who needed a savior, and Rachel’s dad used that as an opportunity to teach his daughter that we need a savior because we deprive God of the glory and obedience that God deserves.
The night of the debate arrives! Professor Kaman has his students attend. People from Stephen’s church arrive. Stephen, in his opening address, essentially says that what exists needed a cause, and that the complexity and beauty of the universe could not have just happened. Professor Kaman in his speech then says that there is laboratory evidence for evolution, and that the fossil record demonstrates evolution and the old age of the earth. Stephen then asks Professor Kaman about God, and, echoing Freud, Professor Kaman argues that people made up God out of their insecurity about life and death and their desire for ultimate justice. Professor Kaman then asks Stephen what proof Stephen has that the Bible is true, and Stephen replies that he does not have proof—-he just has a sense that the Bible is true.
Then Professor Portland enters the debate! He was sitting in the audience, which was unknown to Stephen. Stephen lets Professor Portland take his place in the debate, and Professor Portland gives a speech. Professor Portland says that he doubts that people invented God, for many would prefer not to believe in a God who would tell them how to live their lives. Portland says that the laboratory results showing that organic matter can come from what is inorganic is not an argument against design, but rather for it, since someone intelligent, the scientist, was conducting the experiment. Portland states that there is an absence of transitional forms in the fossil record. Portland then acknowledges that Kaman could come back with counter-arguments, and that Portland could then counter Kaman’s arguments. According to Portland, evolution vs. creation is a matter of faith.
Portland also critiques how he himself handled the issue as a biology professor years earlier: he was proud, he said, and he tried to teach students to believe in creation, when he should have presented students with both sides and encouraged them to acknowledge and follow the ramifications of their positions. Portland prefers the creation model, however, both because it makes sense to him, and also because it has better ramifications (i.e., hope). Portland then apologizes to Professor Kaman for harboring bitterness against him all those years.
Professor Kaman is crestfallen after the debate, whereas he is usually energetic and talkative. One can tell that he is questioning whether he was right to be promoting atheism all those years.
Also, there is the sub-plot about a student trying to seduce Rachel.
I’ll stop here, for now. Sometime next week, I may share my reactions to the movie.
The movie is about a young woman, Rachel Whitaker, who goes off to a secular university to study biology. There, she takes a class that is taught by Professor Kaman (played by Anderson), an evolutionist and an atheist.
Unlike the atheist professor in God’s Not Dead, Professor Kaman is much more irenic and hopeful in his worldview. His approach is to attract flies with honey, not vinegar. He gives students a “C” just for showing up to all of his class sessions. He uses humor and visual aids (i.e., the rubber chicken and the egg). He is optimistic about the direction in which evolution could go, as he notes that people run faster today than they did in the past. He is not against people looking to faith for comfort, but he is happy when his students “think for themselves” and question conventional wisdom. He did, however, perform one act of intolerance when he first joined the faculty: he got a creationist biology professor, Professor Portland (played by Gilyard), fired for teaching creationism.
Rachel is open to Professor Kaman’s concepts, and that concerns her father, Stephen. Stephen, notices that she has not looked for a church yet, and he learns that she has not been reading her Bible. (He left money in it, then the money fell out of the Bible when he later opened it, showing that she hadn’t been reading it.) Stephen visits the university to meet with Professor Kagan, and Professor Kagan challenges him to a public debate over evolution vs. creationism. The university regularly holds public debates, and Professor Kagan’s department is up, so Professor Kagan has to find a topic. Stephen is reluctant to be in a debate, since he has no experience doing that. What’s more, his daughter, Rachel, does not want him debating in front of the school, since that could embarrass her.
A fellow student, Jason, a Christian, works for the school newspaper. Jason gives Stephen books to prepare him for the debate and suggests that he contact Professor Portland, who refuses to help Stephen because he is bitter about being fired. Jason also reaches out to Rachel, telling her that Professor Kaman is wrong, and encouraging her not just to “add” Jesus to her life, but to submit to Jesus. This is a spoiler, but we learn later that Jason and Rachel crossed paths years before, when they were kids. They were at the lake, a coin was on the ground, and Jason took the coin from Rachel. Jason’s dad used that as an opportunity to teach Jason that he was a sinner who needed a savior, and Rachel’s dad used that as an opportunity to teach his daughter that we need a savior because we deprive God of the glory and obedience that God deserves.
The night of the debate arrives! Professor Kaman has his students attend. People from Stephen’s church arrive. Stephen, in his opening address, essentially says that what exists needed a cause, and that the complexity and beauty of the universe could not have just happened. Professor Kaman in his speech then says that there is laboratory evidence for evolution, and that the fossil record demonstrates evolution and the old age of the earth. Stephen then asks Professor Kaman about God, and, echoing Freud, Professor Kaman argues that people made up God out of their insecurity about life and death and their desire for ultimate justice. Professor Kaman then asks Stephen what proof Stephen has that the Bible is true, and Stephen replies that he does not have proof—-he just has a sense that the Bible is true.
Then Professor Portland enters the debate! He was sitting in the audience, which was unknown to Stephen. Stephen lets Professor Portland take his place in the debate, and Professor Portland gives a speech. Professor Portland says that he doubts that people invented God, for many would prefer not to believe in a God who would tell them how to live their lives. Portland says that the laboratory results showing that organic matter can come from what is inorganic is not an argument against design, but rather for it, since someone intelligent, the scientist, was conducting the experiment. Portland states that there is an absence of transitional forms in the fossil record. Portland then acknowledges that Kaman could come back with counter-arguments, and that Portland could then counter Kaman’s arguments. According to Portland, evolution vs. creation is a matter of faith.
Portland also critiques how he himself handled the issue as a biology professor years earlier: he was proud, he said, and he tried to teach students to believe in creation, when he should have presented students with both sides and encouraged them to acknowledge and follow the ramifications of their positions. Portland prefers the creation model, however, both because it makes sense to him, and also because it has better ramifications (i.e., hope). Portland then apologizes to Professor Kaman for harboring bitterness against him all those years.
Professor Kaman is crestfallen after the debate, whereas he is usually energetic and talkative. One can tell that he is questioning whether he was right to be promoting atheism all those years.
Also, there is the sub-plot about a student trying to seduce Rachel.
I’ll stop here, for now. Sometime next week, I may share my reactions to the movie.
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Scoundrels Desiring Goodness
A few nights ago, I watched The O.J. Simpson Story, a 1995 made-for-TV movie about O.J. Simpson. Last night, I watched the Emmy-nominated episode “Five-O” of the series Better Call Saul, which is a spin-off of the popular Breaking Bad series. Both stories made me think about people’s propensity towards evil, and the desire to be good.
A. The O.J. Simpson Story was made in 1995. It goes up to O.J.’s arrest for the murder of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman. The movie is a bit ambiguous about whether or not he committed the murders. On the one hand, Simpson appears rather surprised and distraught about the death of Nicole. On the other hand, the movie certainly portrays him as the type of person who could have committed the murders: Simpson in the movie physically abused his wife, had an out-of-control temper, wanted everything to be “perfect” by his standards, and was insanely jealous about Nicole seeing other men, especially on his property.
But he did desire to be a good person. In the movie, Simpson as a high school student stole wine from a local grocery store and got in trouble with the law, but a visit from the famous baseball star Willie Mays changed his attitude. Willie Mays realized that Simpson was a good high school football player, and he wanted Simpson to live up to his potential rather than ending up in jail. Mays told Simpson that he (Simpson) had the potential to become a famous athlete and to live a prosperous life, but that he needed to stay out of jail. At the same time, Mays took the opportunity to pass on some wisdom to Simpson about what was truly important. Mays told Simpson that fame is accidental and money is fleeting, but the only thing that truly lasts is character. Simpson took Mays’ advice seriously, and it stayed with him for years to come.
Simpson was famous and admired, and he wanted to see himself as other people saw him. Simpson in the movie passed the football with a disabled kid. He tried to be a good father. When he was riding in the back seat of his Ford Bronco, fleeing the law, he showed his best friend, A.C., a picture of himself with his wife and kids and said that this picture showed who he truly was. He desired goodness, but he had serious character flaws that got in his way.
B. On the episode, “Five-O,” of Better Call Saul, we see some of the back-story of Mike Ehrmantraut. Mike was also in Breaking Bad, and he was the savvy henchman of Saul Goodman and key players in the drug cartel. Mike used to be a Philadelphia cop, and his son, Matt, was a cop, too. A gang was paying off some cops to get protection from the law, and Matt was invited by his partner to get in on this. Mike, who himself was corrupt, encouraged his son not to make waves, to take the money, since the other cops would kill Matt if they suspected that Matt would report them to the authorities. Matt wanted to stick with his integrity, but he eventually followed his father’s advice and took the money. Two cops still killed Matt, because they thought that Matt may still inform on them. Later, Mike killed those two cops.
Reflecting to Matt’s widow later on, Mike talks about how Matt’s compromise of his principles was without purpose, for Matt died. Mike also regrets that he brought his son down to his own level. Does Mike desire goodness? He does good things, for he is a decent grandfather. Any desire for goodness that he has, however, does not permeate his life, or motivate him to make life-changing transformations for the better. Essentially, he knows that he is a scoundrel. He does not entirely like that he is a scoundrel, and he realizes that there is a better way. But he believes that being a scoundrel is the way that he is, the way that he has coped with life, and he has resigned himself to that.
C. What application do I take from this? Speaking for myself personally, I am not as good as some people think that I am, and I also am not as bad as some people think that I am. I am a person who desires goodness, but I have character flaws that get in my way. That is one reason that I am a Christian: I need God’s help each day to be good, or, at the very least, not to be bad. Learning practical ways to work on one’s character flaws—-through therapy, books, or advice from others—-is also important.
I do not think that Mike’s character flaws are things that one should resign oneself to, since, well, they manifest themselves in illegal activity! I have, however, resigned myself to some of my own “flaws,” or things that some people might consider flaws. I do not beat myself up anymore (or at least not as much) for being shy, or for being an introvert. I try not to beat myself up because there are people who don’t like me, or whom I do not like. Christianity—-or the way that some Christians have conceptualized Christian living—-has laid a guilt trip on me over the years on these issues. No more!
I guess that where I land is here: there are character flaws that I try to work on because, for my own sake and that of others, I believe that doing so is important. I can see the value of doing so. In other areas, however, I try to accept myself. Some Christians may say that, in my approach, I am making myself and my standards the lord of my life rather than Jesus. Maybe. I can no longer bear the heavy burden of trying to be perfect, and of beating myself up because I am not. Plus, is it seriously a bad thing for me to want to do right because that is my desire? Perhaps God can use that to make me a better person. Perhaps my desire to be good is from God’s influence on me.
A. The O.J. Simpson Story was made in 1995. It goes up to O.J.’s arrest for the murder of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman. The movie is a bit ambiguous about whether or not he committed the murders. On the one hand, Simpson appears rather surprised and distraught about the death of Nicole. On the other hand, the movie certainly portrays him as the type of person who could have committed the murders: Simpson in the movie physically abused his wife, had an out-of-control temper, wanted everything to be “perfect” by his standards, and was insanely jealous about Nicole seeing other men, especially on his property.
But he did desire to be a good person. In the movie, Simpson as a high school student stole wine from a local grocery store and got in trouble with the law, but a visit from the famous baseball star Willie Mays changed his attitude. Willie Mays realized that Simpson was a good high school football player, and he wanted Simpson to live up to his potential rather than ending up in jail. Mays told Simpson that he (Simpson) had the potential to become a famous athlete and to live a prosperous life, but that he needed to stay out of jail. At the same time, Mays took the opportunity to pass on some wisdom to Simpson about what was truly important. Mays told Simpson that fame is accidental and money is fleeting, but the only thing that truly lasts is character. Simpson took Mays’ advice seriously, and it stayed with him for years to come.
Simpson was famous and admired, and he wanted to see himself as other people saw him. Simpson in the movie passed the football with a disabled kid. He tried to be a good father. When he was riding in the back seat of his Ford Bronco, fleeing the law, he showed his best friend, A.C., a picture of himself with his wife and kids and said that this picture showed who he truly was. He desired goodness, but he had serious character flaws that got in his way.
B. On the episode, “Five-O,” of Better Call Saul, we see some of the back-story of Mike Ehrmantraut. Mike was also in Breaking Bad, and he was the savvy henchman of Saul Goodman and key players in the drug cartel. Mike used to be a Philadelphia cop, and his son, Matt, was a cop, too. A gang was paying off some cops to get protection from the law, and Matt was invited by his partner to get in on this. Mike, who himself was corrupt, encouraged his son not to make waves, to take the money, since the other cops would kill Matt if they suspected that Matt would report them to the authorities. Matt wanted to stick with his integrity, but he eventually followed his father’s advice and took the money. Two cops still killed Matt, because they thought that Matt may still inform on them. Later, Mike killed those two cops.
Reflecting to Matt’s widow later on, Mike talks about how Matt’s compromise of his principles was without purpose, for Matt died. Mike also regrets that he brought his son down to his own level. Does Mike desire goodness? He does good things, for he is a decent grandfather. Any desire for goodness that he has, however, does not permeate his life, or motivate him to make life-changing transformations for the better. Essentially, he knows that he is a scoundrel. He does not entirely like that he is a scoundrel, and he realizes that there is a better way. But he believes that being a scoundrel is the way that he is, the way that he has coped with life, and he has resigned himself to that.
C. What application do I take from this? Speaking for myself personally, I am not as good as some people think that I am, and I also am not as bad as some people think that I am. I am a person who desires goodness, but I have character flaws that get in my way. That is one reason that I am a Christian: I need God’s help each day to be good, or, at the very least, not to be bad. Learning practical ways to work on one’s character flaws—-through therapy, books, or advice from others—-is also important.
I do not think that Mike’s character flaws are things that one should resign oneself to, since, well, they manifest themselves in illegal activity! I have, however, resigned myself to some of my own “flaws,” or things that some people might consider flaws. I do not beat myself up anymore (or at least not as much) for being shy, or for being an introvert. I try not to beat myself up because there are people who don’t like me, or whom I do not like. Christianity—-or the way that some Christians have conceptualized Christian living—-has laid a guilt trip on me over the years on these issues. No more!
I guess that where I land is here: there are character flaws that I try to work on because, for my own sake and that of others, I believe that doing so is important. I can see the value of doing so. In other areas, however, I try to accept myself. Some Christians may say that, in my approach, I am making myself and my standards the lord of my life rather than Jesus. Maybe. I can no longer bear the heavy burden of trying to be perfect, and of beating myself up because I am not. Plus, is it seriously a bad thing for me to want to do right because that is my desire? Perhaps God can use that to make me a better person. Perhaps my desire to be good is from God’s influence on me.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Book Write-Up: Same-Sex Attraction and the Church
Ed Shaw. Same-Sex Attraction and the Church: The Surprising Plausibility of the Celibate Life. Downers Grove: IVP Books, 2015. See here to buy the book.
Ed Shaw is a pastor in Bristol, England. He has same-sex attraction, but he believes that homosexuality is a sin and has chosen a life of celibacy. Same-Sex Attraction and the Church is about the struggle that he has as a same-sex attracted Christian, reasons that he has chosen celibacy, and possible ways that the church can help Christians who struggle with same-sex attraction.
There are points that Shaw makes that I have read or heard elsewhere: that same-sex attracted people can help alleviate their loneliness by having friends in church; that, even if same-sex attraction were genetic, that would not mean that homosexual sex is acceptable to God; that evangelicalism tends to idolize getting married and having a family, which alienates singles and same-sex attracted people who choose celibacy; and that the Christian life is not about people always getting what they want but entails self-denial. Shaw makes these points his own, however, by sharing his stories and experiences.
Shaw also wrestles with the question of why God wants marriage to be between a man and a woman. His main conclusion is that heterosexual marriage is a preview of the marriage between Christ and the church. Why does Shaw think that marriage needs to be heterosexual to foreshadow that? Because, for Shaw, God’s plan is about the merging of two parties that are different—-the divine and the human—-and heterosexual marriage is between two different genders. When Shaw makes the painful decision to be celibate for the rest of his life, therefore, he is not just thinking about God’s prohibition of homosexual sex; he is thinking about God’s broader plan, which gives him hope in life.
In this review, I will say what I like about the book, what I dislike about the book, and where I struggled in reading this book.
There are many things that I like about this book. First, there is Shaw’s honest account of his own struggle with same-sex attraction, and his empathy for Christians with that struggle. Second, Shaw does well to explore the question of why God wants for marriage to be heterosexual, rather than simply repeating over and over the usual biblical prooftexts, and he does not settle on conventional answers (i.e., marriage should be about procreation). Third, Shaw shares how his same-sex attraction actually makes him a better Christian: it humbles him and makes him dependent on God, and his sexual desire also reminds him of God’s passionate love, as sexual metaphors are often used in the Hebrew Bible in discussing God’s relationships with people. Fourth, Shaw discusses how celibate Christians can make a contribution to life. They can pray, write books, and donate to worthy causes. I myself do not have same-sex attraction, but I am single, and (as one who struggles socially) I often wonder if I will ever be married, so I appreciated Shaw’s discussion here. Fifth, Shaw shares how, on some level, he already has the sort of life that he would have were he to get married and have a family: a life with companionship, intimacy, and children. That was moving, and it also fleshed out what he thinks the church should be. Sixth, I liked Shaw’s references to secular movies, and his point about how even secular movies inadvertently tell God’s truth (i.e., that promiscuity does not make people happy, necessarily).
What did I dislike about the book? I did not particularly care for Appendix 2: “The Implausibility of the New Interpretations of Scripture.” Shaw made some valid points there, such as the point about the New Testament’s affirmation of the Old Testament. But that section came across to me as dogmatic, strident, and cold. Shaw treats possibilities or plausibilities (i.e., the idea that Romans 1 draws from Genesis 3 or Numbers 11; Shaw’s view on why God prefers heterosexual marriage) as iron-clad facts that should be obvious to anyone. Shaw also accuses gay Christian Matthew Vines of polarization, for Vines states that “for gay Christians, mandatory celibacy affirms…the sinfulness of every expression of their sexuality” (Vines’ words). Shaw does not think that is necessarily the case, for Shaw has argued in the book that his own same-sex attraction actually plays a role in his understanding of God and his life as a Christian. Fair enough, but one can get the impression even from Shaw’s book that the God of the Bible wants for people with same-sex attraction to be practically asexual: Shaw believes that homosexual sex is a sin, but also that homosexual fantasies or lust are a sin (like heterosexual fantasies or lust, a la Matthew 5:28). What is left after that, in terms of sexual expression? Moreover, Shaw seems to present Matthew Vines and Justin Lee as manipulators who tell sad stories to sway the reader, when they are actually sharing the details of their lives, with the emotional pain that accompanied that. And Shaw practically likens Justin Lee to the serpent in the Garden of Eden, when the serpent asked Eve, “Has God said?”
Now for areas in which I struggled in reading this book. First, Shaw sometimes portrays God as a God of grace, who accepts him no matter how many homosexual fantasies he has had. Yet, Shaw also says that he fears that some professing Christians will not be saved because they choose the easy life over suffering and sacrifice, and that people who engage in certain sins will not enter the Kingdom of God. Is God easy on people or not? I suppose one can get both pictures from the Bible! Second, Shaw seems to suggest that God wants Christians to sacrifice. I wonder if that is the case, or if the truth is rather that some Christians have to sacrifice, because society offers them no other choice: Jesus may have been telling his disciples to deny themselves because he realized that society may put them to death for their religious commitments, not because he glorified suffering and sacrifice as a normal part of the Christian life. On the other hand, Shaw does say that we can become more like Christ through suffering, and there are Bible passages that seem to suggest that, so I cannot rule out what Shaw is saying. Third, I have my doubts that many Christian churches will step up and provide the friendship and intimacy that people struggling with same-sex attraction need, since this is a very individualistic culture.
Finally, I was wondering why a same-sex attracted person would want to become a conservative Christian. There are same-sex attracted people who are atheists and agnostics, and they have legitimate philosophical justifications for their positions. Why would homosexuals embrace a worldview that tells them to be celibate for the rest of their life, on the (seemingly) unprovable assumption that they will enter a good afterlife and avoid a bad afterlife if they do so? The answer may be that, for many same-sex attracted Christians who choose celibacy, conservative Christianity offers them something compelling, something that makes their celibacy worth the effort. This is probably an obvious observation, but Shaw’s book made me more sensitive to it.
I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
Ed Shaw is a pastor in Bristol, England. He has same-sex attraction, but he believes that homosexuality is a sin and has chosen a life of celibacy. Same-Sex Attraction and the Church is about the struggle that he has as a same-sex attracted Christian, reasons that he has chosen celibacy, and possible ways that the church can help Christians who struggle with same-sex attraction.
There are points that Shaw makes that I have read or heard elsewhere: that same-sex attracted people can help alleviate their loneliness by having friends in church; that, even if same-sex attraction were genetic, that would not mean that homosexual sex is acceptable to God; that evangelicalism tends to idolize getting married and having a family, which alienates singles and same-sex attracted people who choose celibacy; and that the Christian life is not about people always getting what they want but entails self-denial. Shaw makes these points his own, however, by sharing his stories and experiences.
Shaw also wrestles with the question of why God wants marriage to be between a man and a woman. His main conclusion is that heterosexual marriage is a preview of the marriage between Christ and the church. Why does Shaw think that marriage needs to be heterosexual to foreshadow that? Because, for Shaw, God’s plan is about the merging of two parties that are different—-the divine and the human—-and heterosexual marriage is between two different genders. When Shaw makes the painful decision to be celibate for the rest of his life, therefore, he is not just thinking about God’s prohibition of homosexual sex; he is thinking about God’s broader plan, which gives him hope in life.
In this review, I will say what I like about the book, what I dislike about the book, and where I struggled in reading this book.
There are many things that I like about this book. First, there is Shaw’s honest account of his own struggle with same-sex attraction, and his empathy for Christians with that struggle. Second, Shaw does well to explore the question of why God wants for marriage to be heterosexual, rather than simply repeating over and over the usual biblical prooftexts, and he does not settle on conventional answers (i.e., marriage should be about procreation). Third, Shaw shares how his same-sex attraction actually makes him a better Christian: it humbles him and makes him dependent on God, and his sexual desire also reminds him of God’s passionate love, as sexual metaphors are often used in the Hebrew Bible in discussing God’s relationships with people. Fourth, Shaw discusses how celibate Christians can make a contribution to life. They can pray, write books, and donate to worthy causes. I myself do not have same-sex attraction, but I am single, and (as one who struggles socially) I often wonder if I will ever be married, so I appreciated Shaw’s discussion here. Fifth, Shaw shares how, on some level, he already has the sort of life that he would have were he to get married and have a family: a life with companionship, intimacy, and children. That was moving, and it also fleshed out what he thinks the church should be. Sixth, I liked Shaw’s references to secular movies, and his point about how even secular movies inadvertently tell God’s truth (i.e., that promiscuity does not make people happy, necessarily).
What did I dislike about the book? I did not particularly care for Appendix 2: “The Implausibility of the New Interpretations of Scripture.” Shaw made some valid points there, such as the point about the New Testament’s affirmation of the Old Testament. But that section came across to me as dogmatic, strident, and cold. Shaw treats possibilities or plausibilities (i.e., the idea that Romans 1 draws from Genesis 3 or Numbers 11; Shaw’s view on why God prefers heterosexual marriage) as iron-clad facts that should be obvious to anyone. Shaw also accuses gay Christian Matthew Vines of polarization, for Vines states that “for gay Christians, mandatory celibacy affirms…the sinfulness of every expression of their sexuality” (Vines’ words). Shaw does not think that is necessarily the case, for Shaw has argued in the book that his own same-sex attraction actually plays a role in his understanding of God and his life as a Christian. Fair enough, but one can get the impression even from Shaw’s book that the God of the Bible wants for people with same-sex attraction to be practically asexual: Shaw believes that homosexual sex is a sin, but also that homosexual fantasies or lust are a sin (like heterosexual fantasies or lust, a la Matthew 5:28). What is left after that, in terms of sexual expression? Moreover, Shaw seems to present Matthew Vines and Justin Lee as manipulators who tell sad stories to sway the reader, when they are actually sharing the details of their lives, with the emotional pain that accompanied that. And Shaw practically likens Justin Lee to the serpent in the Garden of Eden, when the serpent asked Eve, “Has God said?”
Now for areas in which I struggled in reading this book. First, Shaw sometimes portrays God as a God of grace, who accepts him no matter how many homosexual fantasies he has had. Yet, Shaw also says that he fears that some professing Christians will not be saved because they choose the easy life over suffering and sacrifice, and that people who engage in certain sins will not enter the Kingdom of God. Is God easy on people or not? I suppose one can get both pictures from the Bible! Second, Shaw seems to suggest that God wants Christians to sacrifice. I wonder if that is the case, or if the truth is rather that some Christians have to sacrifice, because society offers them no other choice: Jesus may have been telling his disciples to deny themselves because he realized that society may put them to death for their religious commitments, not because he glorified suffering and sacrifice as a normal part of the Christian life. On the other hand, Shaw does say that we can become more like Christ through suffering, and there are Bible passages that seem to suggest that, so I cannot rule out what Shaw is saying. Third, I have my doubts that many Christian churches will step up and provide the friendship and intimacy that people struggling with same-sex attraction need, since this is a very individualistic culture.
Finally, I was wondering why a same-sex attracted person would want to become a conservative Christian. There are same-sex attracted people who are atheists and agnostics, and they have legitimate philosophical justifications for their positions. Why would homosexuals embrace a worldview that tells them to be celibate for the rest of their life, on the (seemingly) unprovable assumption that they will enter a good afterlife and avoid a bad afterlife if they do so? The answer may be that, for many same-sex attracted Christians who choose celibacy, conservative Christianity offers them something compelling, something that makes their celibacy worth the effort. This is probably an obvious observation, but Shaw’s book made me more sensitive to it.
I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
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