Oxford: A Concise Photo Tour

Hi!  I've been settling into life in Oxford for about a week and a half now.   Our meteoric term begins on Monday, so, as you might imagine, I'm unlikely to produce any substantial thoughts here in the next couple of months.  I've been putting off blogging until I had an acceptable cache of photos to share.  Yesterday was beautiful and sunny, so I wandered around shamelessly taking pictures of anything that simultaneously caught the light and my eye.  (Disclaimer: I have no idea what formatting will show up on Facebook.  If it's horrendous, click "Original Post" at the bottom.)  So, here's a little taste of what I've been encountering day to day.

The Historic 

(The Saxon Tower)

The Iconic 

(Radcliffe Camera)

The Monumental 

(Commemorating the "Oxford Martyrs")

The Terrifying 

("The Grey Book" describing course examinations for this year.

It's two inches thick.  Fortunately, only 2 pages apply to my course!)

The Optimistic 

(Very much needed after the Grey Book!)

The Autumnal 

The Pretentious

The Melodramatic

The Inviting

The (as yet) Unexplored

I hope you enjoyed the tour!  There's more to come... sometime.

Reading Genesis, Pt. 1

Two posts ago, I left off with the question, “Is male hierarchy God’s intended order for creation for all time?”  The hierarchical complementarians answer yes, and the egalitarians (and I) answer no.  In this post, I’ll begin a discussion of gender in the creation narratives of Genesis 1 and 2. 

I’d like to start by noting that Genesis has two distinct creation narratives in the first two chapters.  For various linguistic and literary reasons, scholars think these may have been written by different authors at different times.  But at the very least, the people of God retained both accounts placed side by side, suggesting to us that each offers an important insight into the God who created all and that God’s relationship to that creation.  

The first narrative focuses, of course, on God’s effortless and artful work of creating the cosmos.  Unlike other ancient gods, this God expends no more energy than a puff of breath to bring order to chaos.  The narrative builds from foundational, inanimate elements like light, earth and water to thriving living things.  Climactic in God’s work is the creation of human beings who, male and female alike, are made in the image and likeness of their Creator.  To these humans (male and female), God gives the first commands (to humans) in our Scriptures: “Be fruitful and multiply” and be responsible stewards over the rest of creation.  The latter command is one of the things that separates human beings from the creepy crawlies in this narrative - it’s giving them, both male and female, some sort of shared authority over creation.  (Aside: if we are to be like God in our care for the earth and its inhabitants, it ought to facilitate the living and thriving of all creatures.  One soapbox at a time, Kel...)

I think, for most of us, there’s no question that men and women are both made in the image of God.  That is, aside from a few histrionic patriarchalists in the last century who claimed that only men were made in God’s image.  (But they do offer a wonderful example of why it’s so imperative that our modern Bible translations should use gender inclusive language -- Ah! Another soapbox! They’re everywhere!)  I’d argue that, at the very least, this “image and likeness of God” entails a shared responsibility for and authority over the rest of creation.  Drawing from the theological richness of the Christian tradition, I’d also claim that human beings are like the triune God in that they are relational beings.  As “God is love”, we are to “love one another.”  I’d venture to say that this gives us a picture of harmonious, loving partnership between women and men that is central to our identity as bearers of the image of God.

From this first creation account, both the HC and the E can claim grounds for their agreement that men and women are equal before God.  Both are created in God’s image, so there is an essential, ontological equality.  It’s in their interpretations of the second creation account that the HC and the E diverge from one another.  The HC would claim that a hierarchy of roles based on gender does not undermine this essential equality.  On the other hand, the E think that, if we really believe men and women are essentially equal, it should be reflected in egalitarian roles.  In other words, ontological equality should correlate with practical equality.  These distinct perspectives color our interpretations of the second creation narrative.

Unfortunately, I have some errands to run and packing to do, so that’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

Brief Interruption: On Text & Interpretation

This is not the post I promised last time, but I think it’s a good way to preface the next stage of discussion.  

I think our beliefs about the place of women in the church are governed, at least initially, by our gut reactions.  We’re predisposed by experience, upbringing, personality, etc., to one position or the other, and then we follow up with reasons why things should be the way we think they should.  This “rational backing of a predisposition” has a direct impact on our interpretation of the Bible.  We tend to collect what we consider to be the relevant portions of Scripture and provide interpretations of them that fit our perspective.  In some ways, this is unavoidable.  We all bring our webs of beliefs and assumptions to the text when we read it, and these things affect what we look for and how we interpret things.  No one is unbiased.  Often the best we can do is be aware of how these assumptions shape our interaction with Scripture; we usually can’t completely separate ourselves from them or be purely objective.  We all have a gender and a particular assumption about what “genderedness” implies.  

Something I’ve appreciated about the class that I’ve been sitting in on is that they chose to open their study addressing how people interpret the Bible.  I think there may be some in the room who are impatient with this approach because they “wanna get down to business,” but our different approaches to Scripture are a big part of our disagreement.  In the churches where I’ve grown up, there are many ways that people go about interpreting Scripture.  (This is by no means comprehensive, of course.)  One of the traditional ways has been to quote a passage that presumably backs up your position, citing book, chapter and verse.  This often entails ripping a text out of its original context to use in some other setting.  Rather than allowing the Word of God its proper authority, we impose our conclusions on the text and try to force it to fit our position.  This is akin to forcing puzzle pieces together: you might be able to make them “fit” but the final picture will be distorted at best.  

Another way that people often approach Scripture is to describe how they feel about it.  Now, I think there should be room for a reader response to the Bible.  It seems especially helpful for certain kinds of spiritual disciplines.  However, when we’re trying to make communal decisions about major issues facing the church, personal reaction to the text is too subjective to provide much help.

I think the best we can do in a conversation in which we’re trying to make a decision for the whole community is to investigate what the original intent of the author may have been (and often there are multiple possibilities).  This is generally called the “historical-critical” method.  We want to consider how the original context of the author and audience may have shaped that text.  The basic idea is that we can hopefully grab some concrete, objective data to prevent our biases from taking over (they’re pretty tough to quell anyway!).  Hopefully, having a common approach encourages us to have humility about our own opinions and to find common ground with people who think differently.  (And so, historical-criticism, although it sometimes seems overly dry and rational, can also be a spiritual discipline.)  We also want to do some careful thinking about our own context and what it looks like to faithful to the gospel here and now.  Obviously, that is a matter of contextual discernment, and it’s more of an art than a science.  Maybe even more a matter of trial and error!  But we are a people who believe that the Holy Spirit is an active participant in our communal discernment, and we need not fear walking in faith together.

This historical-critical approach is used by both the HC and the E, and they come to different conclusions... partially because their assumptions have already predisposed them to that conclusion.  When there are multiple possibilities for the interpretation of a text, we are naturally inclined to pick the one that coheres best with our predisposition.  Sometimes our predispositions prevent us from giving a legitimate interpretation the hearing it deserves because it doesn’t fit what we want to believe or prove.  What I’m striving to do here is admit my limited insight, express my opinion as coherently as possible, and give other points of view a listening ear.  (I’m relying on you, reader, to help me hear those!)

Enough prolegomena - next time it’s the real thing!

The HC

Continuing where I left off a few days ago, I want to reflect on the Hierarchical Complementarian (HC) approach to understanding gender roles in church and at home. To recap, the HC position affirms the statement, “Men and women are equal but different,” emphasis on “different.”  The HC maintain that each gender complements the other, with men providing leadership roles and women filling supportive roles.  I mentioned in my last post that I could go with the idea of women and men are complementary but that the argument breaks down for me when it implies hierarchy.  Let me explain further.

As is often the case, the reason that this viewpoint is compelling for so many is because it holds more than just a grain of truth.  I think that the vast majority of people agree that men and women are different and that those differences are in some way complementary.  It’s practically a staple in the romantic comedy genre.  Think, “You complete me.”  However, it become problematic when we begin to generalize about the ways in which women and men are different from each other.  For example (speaking of chick flicks), my dad and brother like romantic comedies way more than I do.  And they are big, tough, power-tool-wielding, hunting-license-bearing Southern good ol’ boys.  (More of an anecdote than a fitting example, I suppose.) 

Anyway, the trouble (for me) comes with the claim that these differences imply a hierarchy.  (If you think about it, this is a big logical leap... but then again, logical argumentation is probably secondary in much of this discussion.)  This assumption arises from more than one source.  On the one hand, I think the HC have a general concern to be faithful to God’s will even when it’s not popular.  The HC believe that this hierarchy is a God-ordained part of creation, and they feel responsible to defend it.  They are convinced that egalitarians are too influenced by the surrounding culture, that allowing the power structure to change will throw off the order of creation.  The HC are not misogynist; they believe that changing this God-ordained hierarchy will actually be detrimental to women and the relationships between the sexes.  In short, maintaining this gender hierarchy is a matter of doing God’s will, and the influence of modern culture is suspect.  We can see where these concerns are coming from, and I want to acknowledge that these are valid concerns.  

At the same time, this “us-against-the-world” feeling has the potential to blind the HC to how contemporary culture shapes their own position.  The feminist movement is fairly young, and portions of Western culture are still reacting to what they perceive to be an upset in social stability.  The HC are part of this larger cultural reaction, but they remain largely unaware of it.  No one is a-cultural.

At least part of the reason for this unawareness is that the hierarchal view seems to fit better with the patriarchal culture(s) portrayed in the biblical text.  The cultures in which these texts were written influenced the experiences and perspective of the author(s) and the original audience.  Paradoxically, it is this very “timeliness” of the Bible that make it so “timeless.”  Throughout history, the people of God have had to ask themselves, “What is a faithful way for us to structure our lives and relationships in our current situation?”  This “in the world but not of the world” dilemma makes the Bible endlessly intriguing, but it also requires discernment on our part to decide how to live in our world in a way that is shaped by the gospel of Jesus Christ.  The culture of 1st century Corinth or Ephesus, for example, is no more holy or pleasing to God than is that of 21st century America.  Paul’s instructions to the Corinthians or to church leaders and family households in Ephesus are culturally sensitive and appropriate to their context, but they may not be as directly or easily applicable to the situation of affluent, long-time Christians living in 21st century Atlanta, Georgia.  We might do better to investigate the way Paul allows the good news of Jesus Christ to shape his approach rather than merely asking, “What did Paul say/command?”  The “why” is more important than the “what.”

So, I guess, one of the big questions is, “Is male hierarchy God’s intended order for creation for all time?”  Both sides have well-developed arguments for this question.  I’ll offer mine next time.

Interlude: Reading Recommendation

My friend Cathie recommended a series on John Mark Hicks' blog to me, and I'd like heartily to recommend the same set of posts to you.  Here's part of Hicks' introduction to the series:

Last January I began a series surveying the privilege of women to speak or their restricted silence within assemblies of Churches of Christ from 1897 to 1907. ... 

... The posts tract the varying positions of the Tennessee Tradition (the most conservative and influential on this issue), the Sommer (or Indiana) tradition (the most progressive and limited in influence), and the Texas Tradition (a strange mixture that ultimately merges in opinion with the Tennessee Tradition).

By the mid-20th century, Churches of Christ had silenced women in their assemblies except for singing and baptismal confessions as well as excluding them from teaching males in Bible classes.  But it was not always so among them. ...

I appreciated the historical perspective offered by these carefully researched posts, and if you're interested in the history of this stream of the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement, you don't want to miss these!

Find links to the first 4 posts here and the recent 5th post here.  Enjoy!

I'll continue my own posts soon...

The Middle Ground, Pt. 1

Here are a couple of things I should have mentioned earlier.  First, for a more nuanced and detailed discussion of this topic, check out our primary source: Dr. Carroll Osburn’s  Women in the Church (ACU Press, 2000). I’m really not doing the conversation justice, just giving my gut reactions to it.  Second, the positions I described as “straw persons” in the last post are not “straw” in that they don’t really exist - there are people who have endorsed them.  I just think they’re rarely held by the people wrangling over the issue at church (at least the ones I’ve attended).  

Now for the positions in the middle ground: let’s get to know the Hierarchical Complementarians (Syllabic overload! HC for short) and Egalitarians (E, a.k.a., evangelical feminism... just don’t get scared away by the ‘f’ word!).  The HC are a little right of center on the spectrum.  They believe that men and women complement one another, with men providing leadership roles and women support roles (thus 'hierarchy').  A little to the left on the spectrum, the E embrace gender equality and see little or no correlation between gender and what roles a person may fill.  What’s interesting is that both groups would basically agree with the following statement: “Women and men are equal, but different.”  The primary different between the two is that they emphasize one part over the other: the E stress equality over difference while the HC elevate difference over equality.  For the E, the “difference” part sounds like a concession: “Sure, men and women are different, BUT... .”  For the HC, equality is primarily spiritual (i.e.,women and men are equal before God), but they’d persistently assert that God has ordained them distinct roles at home and at church.  So far so good?

There are other things these two groups have in common.  Both are faithfully dedicated to the authority of the Scriptures.  They both reject the radical feminists’ wholesale dismissal of Scripture and Christian tradition while also suspecting that the patriarchalists abuse the Scriptures in order to defend their own prejudices.  When reading the biblical text, both attempt to use the historical critical approach, trying to analyze the literary and historical context of passages and ascertain the original intent of the author.  Both groups care passionately about the church and long to understand the will of God for their communities.  

In short, we occupy a lot of the same ground, and that’s why we fight.  Ultimately, our distinct emphases, equality v. difference, color the way we approach this matter.  Our presuppositions cause us to interpret biblical texts differently, even when we use a common method of study.  As often happens, we are ignorant of the way our own presuppositions influence our study of Scripture even as we say, “Aha! You’re blinded by your assumptions!” to our opponent.  We look askance at each other, believing each other to be overly influenced by secular culture.  (And that's not only the egalitarians, who willingly admit the influence of secular feminism.  Patriarchalism and HC are both part of a broader cultural reaction to the women’s rights movements of the 19th and 20th centuries.)

If you’re like me, you’ve been thinking about where you are on the spectrum.  It’s probably no surprise that I consider myself in the E group.  I find the egalitarian interpretations of the biblical text more persuasive than the HC ones (while recognizing that I too have biases).  I appreciate the more positive role assigned to culture by this perspective.  For example, during the Civil Rights Movement, a cultural shift challenged Christians and churches to reassess their beliefs about race and segregation.  We needed to listen to that call for repentance and change, and we’re still suffering the consequences of doing too little, too late.  I also believe that God has given spiritual gifts to women for the sake of the church, and the church inflicts suffering on them and itself by ignoring them.  We may unintentionally communicate to our young girls that they are not as valuable to our community (to God?) as their male peers are.  It's not what we believe nor what we intend to teach, but all too often that's the message that's conveyed.  On a personal note, as a single woman, I want to be accepted as a complete person before God without being married to a “second half”.  

There is one thing about the E perspective that gives me pause though.  (If I’ve understood it correctly.)  It’s the claim that we all relate to God individually.  I think this claim is meant to counter the HC assertion that men and women complete each other before God.  The HC can sound like they think a person isn’t complete, even spiritually, unless they’re married.  Obviously, that sounds bad to me.  But the E perspective on this point sounds too individualistic.  (Actually, the general evangelical Protestant view of salvation is a bit too individualistic for me.)  I think of Christian salvation in broader terms than just personal assurance of a pleasant afterlife.  I believe that in Christ, God is putting the world to rights again, reconciling people to God and people to people, making all things new.  As the church we’re called collectively (not only individually) to be a part of God’s work of righting the world.  The church is a people who have begun this process of reconciliation to God and others in the waters of baptism.  We celebrate what Christ has done and anticipate what he’s going to do in the fullness of his Kingdom when we gather together at the Lord’s Table.  We’re far from perfect - God’s not finished with us.  But if we’re called to be ministers of reconciliation in the world, we’d better learn to love the messy people sitting next to us in the pew.  I think a Christian comes to the Lord alongside others, not merely individually.  

That explanation isn't really satisfactory to me, but it's what I have today.  Interested in a deeper analysis of the HC point of view?  How about next time?

The Kick-Off

The Wednesday night discussion class on women’s roles in the church started last week.  As I mentioned before, I really thought about going to another class... or waiting it out at a local coffee shop and grilling my mom for details later.  (Guess which option I was leaning toward!)  I resisted temptation and followed the crowd of people making their way into the classroom.  (If I were a youth minister I’d interject, “One of those rare times when 'resisting temptation' and 'following the crowd' go together! *snort*”  Cheesy joke + "us against the world" motif - that's a youth ministry home run!  But I'd hate to put you through that.  Oh, wait...)  The class was enormously popular, which is unusual for a Wednesday night in a Metro Atlanta commuter church.  The big turn out sent my father on a 10 minute chair-ferrying frenzy, which is just the kind of thing he delights in at church.  (I love this about Dad: he’s an elder who’s happy just to be finding everyone a place to sit, facilitating community from behind the scenes.)  

To my great relief, most of the class was an introduction led by one of the elders and the preaching minister.  Given the heated arguments that have happened, the leadership of the church wanted to reframe the discussion.  They began with a familiar exercise in identifying a continuum of viewpoints on women’s role on the church, from the patriarchalist “women belong in the home, barefoot and pregnant” on the far right to the radical feminist “men are the enemy and organized religion is complicit in the oppression of women” on the far left.  Actually, these sound more like caricatures to me, but I think the point of this part of the discussion is to make us realize that we’re all somewhere in the middle, and we’re not as different from each other as we sometimes think.  These arguments tend to be polarizing, and maybe it helps to see that there are more polarized positions out there than those we hold to.  They might be straw people (at least in our church context), but at least we’re knocking them down together!  Unity!  

Silliness aside, this rhetorical move diffuses some of our animosity toward each other, and I think it sets limits on our temptation to caricature the person sitting beside us.  We stop sneaking glances at people we may previously have categorized as extremists.  “She might say clunky things to avoid using a gender-specific pronoun for God, but I don’t think she hates men or the church.”  “His obnoxious jokes during class might reinforce gender stereotypes, but I don’t think he considers women unequal in society or before God.”  

However, thus far the discussion leaves us unsatisfied, and the more cynical among us may suspect it's a bit of a ruse.  The distance between the patriarchalist and the radical feminist is great, and our theological skirmishes take place in the hazy middle ground between the two.  We may not be that different, but we’re still different.  What’s more, we share a lot in common, which opens up another can of worms.  We care strongly about a lot of the same things - like being faithful to Christ, worshipping together, and allowing God’s Word to shape our lives, our fellowship, our church structure - but our perspectives on how this translates into practice are seemingly worlds apart.  

In the interest of keeping post length manageable, I’ll offer my two-cents on the “middle ground positions” next time.