Descriptive or Prescriptive: Who Decides?

Yesterday in Bible study I learned that Christians should not attend funerals. Well, not really. We discussed Luke 9:57-62, a passage in which three men approach Jesus expressing the desire to follow him. Jesus challenges them all and clearly rebukes two of them for having a higher priority than following him, including one of them wanting to bury his father. Our study leader took our discussion in an unusual but intriguing direction by raising the question of whether Jesus' words here are descriptive or prescriptive. He argued, correctly I believe, that things written in the Bible are not all written prescriptively. Prescriptive texts tell us not only how something happened in a given context but define (prescribe) how we should live in all contexts. Descriptive texts, on the other hand, merely tell us about events in a context. We may glean principles and illustrations from them, but they are not intended to apply as a rule of life for all time.

The leader argued that the words of Jesus in this passage are to be understood descriptively, not prescriptively. He said that a prescriptive reading of this passage would preclude Christians from attending funerals because obviously Jesus is telling one man that to do so instead of following after himself would be a failure to live in discipleship. Instead, he argued, we need to look at what Jesus' words here tell us about following as his disciple. We tossed this around a bit but ran out of time before reaching any definite conclusions.

I don't know whether I agree with the idea that this text should be read descriptively. Probably it should, but I have this nagging sense that we do so because to read it prescriptively would be too difficult for us. I think that too often evangelical Americans want to read every text prescriptively. We hold too tightly to our idea of what it means to read the text literally that we end up applying things inappropriately. We would do well to better understand this distinction between prescriptive and descriptive texts.

However, this leads me to a fundamental question concerning biblical interpretation, a question that I think haunts Protestants in general: How do we determine which texts are prescriptive and which are descriptive? What authority do we appeal to in making this determination? What happens if one person or church decides that a certain text should be read one way and another person or church choose to read it the other? Who decides?

As Protestants we don't really have a good answer to this question. By denying the authority of the church, we left ourselves open to a plurality of interpretation without a way to reach consensus. This need not be a problem, except if you believe that biblical texts do have a single clear meaning that we can all arrive at through careful study of the Scriptures. I often hear appeals to the “clear meaning” of Scripture, but such appeals rarely acknowledge that Christians – and I am thinking of Christians who whole-heartedly and unreservedly affirm the authority of the Bible – often disagree over the interpretation of texts. I could point to several contemporary hot issues, but we needn't go to such lengths when we can simply point to such matters as how we understand and interpret baptism and the event referred to as the Lord's Supper or the Eucharist or Communion.

We have to either acknowledge that biblical texts can in fact be interpreted in multiple ways (without discarding the idea that some interpretations really do violence to the text) or else we have to assert that our particular interpretation is in fact THE only correct one. This seems to be the way various branches of the Church seem to go, but it doesn't seem to provide a helpful way forward.

I regret that I didn't raise this question in our study yesterday. I would have liked to hear what the other participants had to say. Perhaps I shall opportunity to come back to it next week, although we will have a different leader so the topic will seem somewhat out of context. In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

A Not-So-Social Parable

I came across this paraphrase yesterday at this site and want to share it with you. I won't add any other comments at this point in time and let the text speak for itself.

The Lazy Paralytic

1. When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at his home. 2. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door; and he was speaking the word to them. 3. Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. 4. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. 5. When Jesus saw this he grew angry, "Why did you wreck my roof? Do you have any idea how much that cost to install? Do you know how many tables and chairs I had to make in my carpentry shop to pay for that roof? The reeds alone cost five talents. I had them carted in from Bethany." 6. The disciples had never seen Jesus so angry about his possessions. He continued, "This house is my life." The disciples fell silent. 7. "It's bad enough that you trash my private property, now you want me to heal you?" said Jesus, "And did you not see the stone walls around this house?" "Yes," said the man's friends. "Are these not the stone walls native to the Land of Galilee? 8. "No," Jesus answered. "This is a gated community. How did you get in?" The man's friends grew silent. 9. Then Jesus turned to the paralytic and said, "Besides, can't you take care of your own health problems? I'm sure that you're family can care for you, or maybe the synagogue." 10. "No, Lord," answered the man's friends. "There is no one. His injuries are too severe. To whom else can we go?" 11. "Well, not me," said Jesus. "What would happen if I provided free health care for everyone? That would mean that people would not only get lazy, but they would take advantage of the system. 12. Besides, look at me: I'm healthy. And you know why? Because I worked hard for my money." The paralyzed man then grew sad and he addressed Jesus. "But I did work, Lord," said the paralytic. "But an accident rendered me paralyzed." "Yes," said the man's friends. "He worked very hard." 13. "Well," said Jesus, "That's just part of life, isn't it?" "Then what am I to do, Lord?" said the paralytic. "I don't know. Why don't you sell your mat?" 14. All in the crowd then grew sad. "Actually, you know what you can do?" said Jesus. "You can reimburse me for my roof. Or I'll sue." And all were amazed. 15. "We have never seen anything like this," said the crowd.

The Bible as a Manual

You know you are in Germany when you can buy beer from the same vending machine as Coca-cola—and the beer is less expensive. You know you are in Germany when that same vending machine is located at a Christian retreat center.

I'm in Germany this week attending a seminar on leadership. We're learning lots of good stuff, which I may come back to in coming days. But this morning one man made a comment that caught my attention and which I want to reflect on briefly. He said something to the effect that everything we need to know about leadership we can find in the Bible. He said that all other books on leadership may help bring out some of these principles, but that the Bible contains all that we need to know about being leaders. Not that long ago I would have either agreed to this statement or passed it over without thinking about it, but today it set off questions in my head. This man essentially was making the same basic claim I have heard in other contexts, that the Bible is basically the only manual we need for living. It's our guidebook to [fill in the blank], in this case, leadership.

I agree that from the various stories in the Bible we can draw conclusions about leadership, both good and bad. And I definitely believe that Jesus offers us the best example of leadership, and I'm doing a lot of reflecting these days on what that looks like, with the help of Kathy Escobar's book Down We Go, as I wrote the other day. (Yes, we'll be coming back to that when I have more time to properly reflect on her writings.)

But is it accurate to see the Bible as THE manual on leadership? Was the Bible written as an instruction manual for any specific topic? I do not think so. This is not to say that it doesn't have anything to say on various topics, but I think we err when we try to read it as a (or THE) manual for living. I simply don't think it was written for that purpose. So I react negatively to any suggestion that all we need to know about a topic can be found in this collection of books known as the Bible.

I've been closely following and engaging with the discussion Rachel Held Evans has been having on her blog for several weeks now concerning the Bible. If you haven't read any of it, it's worth the time and you can start from this entry. I'm moving to a new approach to understanding this book called the Bible. I no longer find my older, simplistic view adequate to the realities of the text or the world in which we live. I haven't reached a point where I can clearly articulate how I approach it, though I resonate strongly with Rachel's questions and answers.

Have you heard people refer to the Bible as a manual for living, or some particular topic? How do you feel about this view of Scripture?

Thoughts on Reading Numbers 31

I was reading Numbers 31 the other day. At the LORD's command, Moses sends out the army of Israel to take vengeance on the Midianites. The men fight victoriously and kill every adult Midianite male (v. 7). As they return, Moses, the priests and the community leaders go out to meet the army and Moses becomes angry with them. At this point (vv 15-18) we hear the voice of Moses:

“Have you allowed all the women to live?” he asked them. “They are the ones who followed Balaam's advice and enticed the Israelites to be unfaithful to the LORD in the Peor incident, so that a plague struck the LORD's people. Now kill all the boys. And kill every woman who has slept with a man, but save for yourselves every girl who has never slept with a man.”

These verses really trouble me. I do not know how to reconcile them with God being a God of love, mercy and grace. Through his prophet Moses he is ordering the murder of women and male children and sanctioning the enslavement of female youth and children. This ostensibly is being done because the women led the Israelite men into idolatry. But even if we acknowledge that some of them did this, a blanket judgment on all the older women seems quite harsh. And what became of the young women who were kept alive? Were they mere household slaves, which would be bad enough, or did they suffer even worse abuse and degradation? The text is vague about this other than that a certain percentage of them were offered to the Levites as a tribute to the LORD.

Considering how readily we condemn Islam for inciting acts of violence against non-believers, it seems we need first to wrestle with the skeletons in our own closet. I read a book entitled Laying Down the Sword that raised this question and gave some suggestions for how one needs to deal with such passages, as I talked about here. I'd like to find a hermeneutic that gives me a means to interpret and respond to passages like this. Currently, along with Rachel HeldEvans and many others, I'm reading N.T. Wright's book Scripture and the Authority of God. I'm hoping that he may point to a way forward through passages like this, but we haven't read far enough in the book to have an answer yet.

I think these passages should disturb us. The commentary in my NIV Study Bible (2011 edition) doesn't indicate that these passages are in any way disturbing. This violence is treated as the appropriate and reasonable response to the godlessness and idolatrous ways of the Midianites, particularly their acts in leading the Israelites astray. Is it as simple as that? If so, why do we not pursue a similar course of vengeance today when we see acts of godlessness? (Mind you, I'm not encouraging this and would be appalled by anyone who did encourage or act in such a way.) These are some of the questions asked by the author of Laying Down the Sword. Unfortunately I've heard little or no dialog about these issues in most Christian circles.

How do you respond to this passage? How do you reconcile this with a God of love, who desires that all may be saved? What do you think should be done with such violent passages?

Reflections on Leviticus

Today I finished reading the book of Leviticus. I haven't read through this book in years. Reading it again reminds me why I don't read it more often and why we don't hear too many sermons preached from this book. The rules and regulations are presented in a mind-numbing parade of ordinances and, probably more significantly, don't seem particularly relevant to our modern world. In fact, most Christians really don't know how to relate to the laws laid out in this book. In case you are hoping that I will resolve this problem for you, let me disappoint you right now. I don't have the “key” to Leviticus. In fact I came away from reading it with as many or more questions than I began with. Let me share a few reflections with you.

Leviticus is about holiness. The principle idea is that because God is holy he demands that his people be holy as well. In order to accomplish this, he laid out a number of rules and regulations to govern the lives and behavior of the Israelites, so that they would clearly be distinct and different from the peoples around them. This basic principle can be summarized with part of verse 11:44: “Be holy because I am holy.” I get this concept. But I struggle with many of the regulations God laid down to accomplish this.

I find it hard to accept that God rejects people for things they have no control over. Women are unclean and effectively outcasts for a good portion of each month simply because of their natural biological activities—functions that God created in them. Similarly, I realized that due to a particular medical condition I have I would very often be ceremonially unclean. I could not have contact with other members of the community and would essentially be cut off from both human and divine fellowship. The constraints on me place me in the same position as the women around me, which makes me that much more sympathetic to their marginalized status. Why should I be unclean because of a medical condition I do not choose or desire to have and why should a woman be unclean because of the natural flow of blood she has each month? This strikes me as a repudiation of God's own creation. Given the different behaviors or conditions that can make a person unclean, I think a lot of people would be unclean at some point in their lives, perhaps on a regular or perpetual basis. I understand that God wants to emphasize his holiness, but how does marginalizing so many of the people in his community accomplish this?

I also chafe at the different values placed on men and women. We read in chapter 27 that the value of a man ranges from 33% to 50% higher than that of a woman, depending on the age of the individual. In general this book and others in the Pentateuch really marginalize women and I struggle to reconcile that with a God who created both men and women in the divine image.

The simple answer, of course, is that this book represents the Old Covenant. In Jesus we have now a New Covenant and the laws and regulations of the Old Covenant are now fulfilled in him. Certainly I embrace this—in fact I welcome it with joy. I can see clearly how the rules of the Old Covenant demonstrated effectively that we as humans cannot live righteous and holy lives. Israel never fulfilled this covenant and neither could any of us today. Perhaps that is the main take-away from this book. But I still struggle with a God who in seeking to purify his people created rules that marginalized or excluded so many of them from his community. To be honest I'm not comfortable with this, although I still don't know how to resolve the internal tension I feel.

I also struggle with the fact that many Christians would still maintain some of the rules and laws in this book. While acknowledging in principle that we are saved by grace through the redeeming work of Christ, many still insist on upholding some parts of the old code. This may be a legitimate exercise, but I wonder how we determine which parts are still valid and applicable and which have been superseded in the New Covenant. Most of us don't try to follow the dietary rules (for which I am thankful every time I enjoy bacon and ham, among other delicacies), nor do we tear down someone's house because it develops mold. I've not heard anyone seriously suggest that we try to implement a Year of Jubilee in contemporary society. I'm not sure whether it could be instituted at this point in time. There's no evidence that the Israelites ever celebrated it. I don't think most of us are overly concerned if any of our clothing is made of a blend of fabrics (19:19).

However, many people would uphold the sexual mores laid out in Leviticus and opponents of homosexuality often cite the two verses in chapters 18 and 20 related to this behaviour. The same people would not, in my estimation, condone the killing of adulterers, as advocated in 20:10, nor have I heard of anyone considering it an act of impurity for a man to marry his brother's wife (the text doesn't make it clear whether after death or from divorce), although I watched a movie not long ago based on a true story in England in which a woman married a man who eventually died. After his death she and her deceased husband's brother fell in love and wanted to marry, but apparently the laws of England forbid this. I imagine this law was based on verse 20:21 It was not overturned until after World War II. I mention this because when I heard of this situation and saw the connection to this Levitical law, I recognized the absurdity of trying to implement the rules and regulations of this book in our New Covenant era, much less in our post-Christian, multi-cultural society. I think we do not have a clear framework for determining which, if any, commands in the book of Leviticus or other parts of the Pentateuch still have validity and apply to us as Christians under the New Covenant. I am not arguing that we can simply ignore the book of Leviticus, but I do wonder what we are to make of it and, if we believe that its rules are still valid, how we determine which of them are. At the moment this book seems to me primarily to represent the Old Covenant and the impossibility of being holy and righteous through our own efforts.

I'd like to hear what others have to say on this topic. How do you understand this ancient book? What hermeneutic would you follow in determining which, if any, of its commands and laws apply today?

Some Thoughts on Laying Down the Sword

While in the local public library recently I noticed a book on display entitled Laying Down the Sword: Why We Can't Ignore the Bible's Violent Verses by Philip Jenkins. I didn't immediately check out the book. In fact I put it back on the shelf, left the library and only returned to check it out the next day after a night of thinking about what the book might have to say. I will not argue that the book is profound, but it is thought-provoking and worth consideration by anyone who ascribes some type of authority to the Bible.

Jenkins starts with the fact that the Bible contains verses that describe actions which to our modern sensibilities are reprehensible and unacceptable. In fact, were we to encounter a description of such actions today we would likely refer to them as genocide. He has in mind particularly the stories of the Israelite conquest of Canaan under the leadership of Joshua, though he does make reference and consider other troublesome passages as well. He acknowledges that much of our modern sensibilities, the very ones that should trouble us when we read passages such as those in the book of Joshua, have in fact grown out of a Judeo-Christian tradition and asks how it is possible that we are able to tolerate the existence of such stories in the Bible.

He points to a few primary means of dealing with this disturbing texts. Historically they have often been allegorized, meaning that they have been read not essentially as factual historical documents but as stories that depict in human activities the spiritual realities that humans confront. For example, the battle to drive out the Canaanites might be read as the story of each believer needing to drive out sinful characteristics in his or her own life. These types of readings occurred more frequently early in church history and often seem quaint and unrealistic to modern readers.

Another response has been to project contemporary believers into the place of the Israelites and assigning whatever enemy they faced to the role of the Canaanites. In this way people could justify the fight against and even the annihilation of other ethnic groups. This response should rightfully trouble us, but continues to hold merit in certain circles even today. Jenkins shows how this type of reading has led to very “unchristian” behaviors, including massacres and genocides, perpetuated because of a particular biblical hermeneutic. Corollary to this, the violent acts are justified by arguing that the victims were particularly evil, unholy and a threat to the survival of righteous people and even of humanity in general. Such a viewpoint may also emphasize the sovereignty of God, arguing that anything God commands cannot be wrong, therefore the annihilation of a nation or city cannot be considered morally reprehensible when God himself has commanded it. God must have his reasons and even when we don't fully understand them, we must accept them.

Yet another response has been to effectively expunge these texts, not removing them from the canon by deletion but by neglect. This, Jenkins argues, has occurred in most Christian churches today. He gives the example of the Revised Common Lectionary and shows how a reader following the readings of this lectionary would never have to deal with the most violent passages of the Bible. A corollary to this approach has been to pass lightly over such passages. In this way one might continue to present the story of Joshua taking Jericho but not really consider the full implications of the story in terms of the eradication of an entire city or race.

Many Christians will have difficulty accepting Jenkin's arguments because he makes clear at the beginning of his book that he does not accept as factually historical the stories in which the most violent texts are found. He presents evidence for his position, evidence that will carry weight with some and which others will reject out of hand. However, regardless of how one views the authority and factual historicity of the Bible, Jenkin's book raises questions that Christians should address. Whether one accepts the story of Joshua's conquests as factual history or not, the Christian church has included them in its canon from the earliest years of church history and they have formed a part of Christian theology and worldview. If one rejects them as historical, one must still take into account their presence within the canon and the effect they have had through the centuries. If one accepts them as historical, then one must wrestle with the implications for our understanding of God and his interaction with humanity. The issues are not easily resolved and therefore are generally avoided.

Jenkins raises these questions at this time in part, I believe, because of the number of voices, Christian and non-Christian, that argue that Islam is an inherently violent religion, as demonstrated by its holy book the Quran. Jenkins counters that the Bible in fact contains more passages that clearly advocate and condone violence than anything found in the Quran. Whether one accepts or rejects this, Jenkins presents evidence and arguments that must be taken into consideration. Jenkins also claims that, just as Christianity and Judaism have outgrown their more violent tendencies by and large (allowing for certain fringe groups that would continue to use such passages as grounds for ethnic or religious violence), so there is hope that the voices in Islam that advocate a broader, more tolerant approach to those of different faiths, will gain the ascendancy in Islamic interpretation. Ultimately, Jenkins says, we must remember the context in which any holy text is written and in which it is currently being interpreted and applied.

Jenkins presents some suggestions for how one might read these violent passages. He advocates, like Martin Luther, that the reader “read cleanly,” meaning that he or she must consider whether a given passage applies to the reader today or not. If it does, then the reader must seek to understand how. This approach recognizes what most believers actually practice even if they affirm the inspiration of every word of the Bible: that some verses are applicable to the modern reader and others are not. Jenkins quotes the medieval scholastics, who had a rule: “Quidquid reciptur ad modum recipientis recipitur,” which he translates into English as roughly: “What people hear depends on who is doing the hearing.” Jenkins also advocates reading any text within the larger context both of the particular book and the Bible as a whole. This requires an awareness of the context in which a particular book or story was originally written as well as the overall purposes of the Bible. Finally, Jenkins recommends that readers “read from below,” that is, that we consider each story not only from the perspective of the protagonists, the victors and the heroes, but also from the perspective of the vanquished, the oppressed and the powerless. This requires listening to interpretations coming from voices of those who have been or are marginalized and not simply to those who continue to write from positions of power, privilege and influence.

This book troubled me. It also challenged me to think about and read the Bible differently. I recommend it to others who want to engage with the biblical text that is, not the one we like to think of existing: the one that contains passages that are disturbing, even reprehensible. If we cannot do this honestly then we cannot deal truthfully with those who question the meaning and authority of the Bible.

On "Biblical" Manhood and Womanhood

A lot of ink has been spilled in recent years both figuratively (on-line blogs and articles) and literally (books) on the topic of biblical manhood and womanhood. Some people seem to have this idea that there is a clearly defined concept in the Bible as to what it means to be a man and what it means to be a woman. These people would argue that in order to live godly lives, we need to live in accordance with these prescriptive roles.

I accept that the Bible tells us a lot about what it means to be godly. I reject the notion though that it defines what that looks like for a man as opposed to a woman. This is not to deny differences between men and women. Rather, I assert that these differences are far less significant than the things that we have in common and the attributes that we are called to develop as people of God, men and women.

Rachel Held Evans writes an excellent blog (as do many others, but Rachel is currently my primary window into the other writers out there) in which she often explores questions such as these. In a recent comment on one of her posts, she makes this statement:

My only thought on femininity is that the Bible presents us with such a beautiful range of people - women who were warriors, women who were disciples, women who were mothers, women who were widows, women (like Tamar) who worked the patriarchal systems of their day to survive, women who spoke up, women who defied orders from men, women who were apostles, women who fit right into the social constructs of the time, women who didn't. In other words, I don't believe that the Bible presents us with a single prescriptive mold for how to be women of faith (or how to be men of faith). I believe God wants to use all that makes you uniquely YOU in growing the Kingdom. There is no such thing as *prescriptive* "biblical womanhood."

I wholeheartedly agree with her. I would also state that the Bible doesn't give a single prescriptive image of what it means to be a man of God. I think that much of what some people want to define as biblical manhood or womanhood is really a very cultural perspective. They may fear that accepting men and women for who they are, rather than expecting them to fulfill certain pre-defined roles, threatens in some manner the divine order. I hardly think this is the case. Rather, we violate the image of God within us when we force a person to fulfill a certain role simply because she or he has certain chromosomes. God gifts each of us according to his (or her!) desire and I don't think he looks first to see whether the person receiving the gift is a man or woman.


One concept that seems particularly popular among advocates of a prescriptive “biblical womanhood” is the idea that a biblical woman is first and foremost a mother. But this does not hold true in the biblical stories, nor does it properly value women for who they are as individuals. A person's value should not depend on whether she (or he) has children or not, or whether she or he is married or not. Yet so many of our churches make this a litmus test and in the process devalue a large number of people, particularly those who are single and those who do not have children, whether by choice or for other reasons. There is far more to being a woman or man of God than being a mother or father.

I would like to see us move away from the concept of manhood and womanhood altogether, as if these were some static attributes that we can (and should) put on according to our chromosomes. Instead, we should encourage each of us as individuals, male and female, to develop in the godly attributes of love, compassion, grace and mercy. The true godly qualities do not distinguish between male and female and neither should we.

Women in the Church

As our home group gathered one evening recently, another member of the group asked me how my week had gone. I mentioned that I had attended a Bible study at another church in town. When I told him which church, his reply caught me completely off guard. He questioned whether there were any believers in the denomination of which the church in question is part. That alone troubled me, but then he added the question, “Don't they allow women to preach?”

This second question offended me, because I do not believe in the restriction of women from leadership within the church and para-church ministries. I certainly do not believe that the inclusion of women in church leadership, including preaching, excludes a church or a believer from the community of God's people. In fact I consider the exclusion of women from these roles to be one of the greatest sins of the Church, akin to the segregation that some churches (far too many, unfortunately) used to practice concerning different ethnic groups or races. The struggle for the inclusion of women in church leadership is a key issue for me as a feminist, particularly as a Christian feminist.

I understand that this question can provoke some highly contentious debate and I do not intend to undertake a full defense of my position in this blog. I know that there are verses in the Bible that seem to restrict women's roles within the church as well as to prescribe (and proscribe) their behavior in the worship community. I have read many articles on this question and am convinced that one can exegete these passages in a sound manner that does not result in the exclusion of women from leadership. In fact, some of the vitriol I have heard and read by certain esteemed Christian leaders concerning women offends me and displays not only a false understanding of Scripture but a highly sinful pride and attitude of male superiority. I will not name these people, but their attitude toward women causes me to receive anything they have to say with a very critical spirit.

I believe that God gifts all of his children. Those gifts different for each individual, but are not segregated according to our sex. There are not certain gifts that are appropriate for and given to women and others that are not. I believe that we hinder the in-breaking of God's kingdom, we hinder the spread of the Gospel message and the transformation of lives when we refuse women the right and opportunity to exercise their callings. We lose the talents and abilities of half of God's people. I no longer consider this acceptable. It is time for us to affirm the full equality of women within the community of God's people.

Some, many in fact, argue that men and women complement each other by their differences. I do not argue that women and men are exactly the same. In fact I'm beginning to question the whole social construct of gender, but whether men and women are different is not the issue. These “complementarians” claim that the Bible teaches that women are equal, but that God has given them different roles from men, roles that complement men in their roles as leaders, husbands, fathers, etc.. This sounds a lot like the old doctrine of “separate but equal.” Most of us have long ago recognized that separate is not equal. We can affirm the value and equality of women all we want, but if we are unwilling to accept them as equals in every area, then we effectively deny their equality. This is not acceptable.

Churches that do not want to reconsider their position on this issue may well continue along in their status quo. I think there will always be some people willing to accept this segregation of the sexes. Unfortunately despite progress within our culture on this issue, the Church in general, especially those portions of it that label themselves “evangelical” lag quite a distance behind in this area. But I think that such churches will find that they increasingly alienate the younger generation. If I were a woman, I would not be eager to attend a church where I was told I could not fill certain positions simply because I had two X chromosomes. Those who understand and affirm the equality of God's children, male and female, will increasingly abandon those churches that do not. Some may find a home in other Christian worship communities. I fear though that some may reject the faith altogether because of this lack of love on the part of their brothers (and, yes, some of their sisters as well). That would be a tragic loss, all the more unfortunate because it is entirely avoidable.

Stewards of Mystery

My reading this morning came from 1 Cor. 4:1-5. Normally I read from the New Living Translation. After reading from that version as usual this morning I felt a desire to see how other translations handled these verses, because something about the NLT's translation left me curious how much they had interpreted in the process of translating. So I went to the English Standard Version, which is not one I commonly use but to which I find myself referring with increasing frequency. What I found was that in its effort to make sense of the passage, the NLT goes farther than I would in explaining it to the reader. One verse in particular caught my attention for today. In the NLT verse 1 reads:

"So look at Apollos and me as mere servants of Christ who have been put in charge of explaining God's secrets."

But in the ESV we read:

"This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God."

I can see how the NLT translators reached their version from what I read in the ESV, but I'm uncomfortable with the way they have handled it, particularly the final phrase. According the the NLT, Paul and Apollos (and arguably, by extension, contemporary preachers or teachers) have been put in charge of explaining God's secrets. I understand that to mean that when they have done their work, those who hear them will have understanding of things they don't currently understand. But the ESV's translation strikes me in a different way. If Paul and Apollos are stewards of the mysteries of God, it could mean that they are to protect these mysteries, to care for them well, to make sure they are not diminished or harmed or lost. To steward something does not inherently mean to explain it. In fact stewardship doesn't inherently have anything to do with explanation.

I wonder if the difference has to do with our Western Protestant inclination to unpack everything theological. We are uncomfortable with mystery. We struggle to write systematic theologies that account for all of God's nature and his work and we argue over issues like human freedom and divine sovereignty because we in our human minds can't reconcile the two. It is, in that sense, a mystery. If I take the NLT's translation here my job is to try to explain that mystery--to make it understandable and acceptable to our rational minds. But if I take the ESV's translation (at least my understanding of it), our job is simply to steward that mystery--to make sure that it is not lost or distorted (such as by emphasizing one aspect at the expense of another).

My thinking on this is likely affected by my current reading of Philip Yancey's book Reaching for the Invisible God. He writes:

"Over time, I have grown more comfortable with mystery rather than certainty. God does not twist arms and never forces us into a corner with faith in himself as the only exit. We can never present the Final Proof, to ourselves or to anyone else. We will always, with Pascal, see 'too much to deny and too little to be sure...'."

I for one am much more comfortable being a steward of the mysteries of God rather than feeling that I have to explain God's secrets, most of which I don't fully understand myself.

Sinking to New Lows

I have never been much of a fan of "special interest" Bibles. I guess for me it comes down to the belief that the Scriptures in and of themselves are adequate to speak to every individual, regardless of any affiliations or backgrounds. I can see some value in a basic study Bible that provides background information on the text itself. But I see no purpose in the proliferation of Bible's that aim to "open" the Scriptures specifically to men, women, blacks, whites or any other group. It seems to me we are doing precisely the opposite of what God wants. He wants to unite us in his body. We, however, are trying to subdivide the body in the hopes of ever-greater sales.

Just when I thought we'd hit the bottom in this category, I saw the American Patriot Bible in the bookstore recently. Words cannot express the feelings that came to me. I think this review captures all of my criticisms quite well and probably more eloquently than I could, so I encourage you to take the time to read it.

Being a believer is not about being a patriotic American. I think that the two have fairly little in common, in fact. I'm not saying that we cannot love our country. But my allegiance is not first and foremost to my country. It is to my king and to his kingdom, which is above all countries and includes many and women from every nation, people and language. His kingdom is not a place to wave the flag of a particular nation. I cannot find any evidence in Scripture to support the idea that America is God's new chosen nation. To claim that is to implicitly claim that other nations just don't matter as much to him, which is arrogant and unbiblical. In the era of the New Covenant, there is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, American or non-American. We all stand equal at the foot of the cross. So do we really need a Bible to tell us how wonderful it is to be American and how proud we should be of this fact, a fact which most of us had no control over anyway?