Confessions of a Social Media Junky

Or a budding “Social Media Junky.” I’m sure, in the grand scheme of things, there are people more addicted than I am or was. But, nonetheless, this is my story full of everything average and nothing over-the-top. Mostly, this is the story of the power of conviction–wrought by the presence of the Holy Spirit–in my life. These words that comprise this confession, if you will, are words that are the fruit of the gentle, loving, nudging, calling God that gave himself for us; these are not words of condemnation…not for me and especially not for you. I’m sharing my experience, my conviction, not telling you what to do. This type of post is never easy to write because it can strike a chord (or many) in people internally wrestling with their own budding junkiness. So, I’ll be up front about it: none of these words, none of this confession is meant or intended to be the law to you; read it if you are intrigued, skip it if you are too sensitive to any law–trust me, I’ve been there, you’re free to react in any way you want. Despite the words here and their possible lack of life for you, you are dearly and clearly loved by God apart from you’re relationship with social media (bad or good).

So, here goes…

There are things that are ok with us and other things that are just poisons. I had a friend once who couldn’t read Stephen King novels because they caused her too much fear; they’ve never bothered me. I’ve known some people who can’t listen to secular music; I do, I’m fine with it…in fact, I enjoy it, listening to the under current of human desire gone unmet or the base obsession with self/human-promotion present in so many songs. But then there’s social media, my technological Achilles heal. Ooph. Any pride I had for not being addicted to anything else was quickly eclipsed in light of my addiction to social media.

And, the sad part? I wouldn’t have called it an addiction because I could put my phone down (well, mostly), and I could ignore the notifications (well, sometimes), and I could walk away from it when others needed me (oh, well, yeah…sort of…I mean only after I got that last tweet out or put the finishing touches on a comment…).  I never would have classified social media as something that disturbed the general flow of my life and real-time and real-place relationships because nothing bad had happened (yet). It was just a thing…that I did…almost all the time.

I never would have noticed how entangled I was in Social Media had it not been for the accidental leaving my phone at home one morning as I walked to our mailbox with my (then 18 month old) daughter. It was a slow 45 minute lap around our small neighborhood, but it was a sweet 45 minutes and it changed my life.

I remember the brief panic I felt when I realized I didn’t have my phone on me as we headed down our road. Following the voice of my panicky conscience (What if you miss something? What if they don’t miss you?  How will anyone know you are being an awesome mom right now?)  came that still, small, gentle voice of conviction from the Holy Spirit (Do you see her? That’s your daughter. She is more important than any number of followers or friends you could ever have or interact with. Twitter and Facebook will be there when you get back; she’ll only be this old now.) My heart broke. But it was a good break. The break of breaking into life out of death.

That’s the difference between conviction and condemnation. The fruit of conviction is always life, and the result of condemnation is death.  The feeling of and initial reaction to both can be the same but the difference is always in the aftermath of hearing the word. I didn’t run and hide (condemnation). I didn’t try to rationalize away anything (condemnation). I embraced that I’d been going about this whole thing all wrong (conviction) and I grabbed her chubby hand and walked at her pace, I stopped at and stomped in puddles, and stooped low every time she squatted down to examine something (conviction).

What did I embrace during that small moment of life-changing conviction? I embraced my justification. Knowing full well that I’m justified by faith in Christ apart from works (good and bad), I heard not condemnation from the Spirit but conviction. I was free to be wrong and to confess that my priorities were out of  whack.  I was free to confess that I’d been putting her, my sons, my husband, and (essentially) my life second to my relationship with social media. I was free to confess that I was substituting the virtual for what was real. I was free to confess that I was putting a greater value on my twitter followers and Facebook friends than on my own real-life flesh and blood. I was free to confess that as far as serving my neighbor was going, I was failing because I was pretty much neglecting my closest neighbors: my husband and my children. I was free to confess that, at the end of the day, my mood was governed by the interactions on social media.

When we got back from our walk, I felt different. I felt like the word of conviction was still working it’s resuscitating touch in the dead portions of my conscience.  I saw my phone and my computer on the counter, but I wasn’t ready to enter back in to Twitter or Facebook.  The moment I was in was still too powerful.  I grabbed my daughter’s hand, “Hey, Chicken, wanna go play with chalk?” I swooped her up and quickly carried her out back.  By the time we had exhausted both chalk and bubbles, it was lunch time and then nap time.

I closed the door to her room and took a deep, satisfying breath. You know what I’m talking about, the type of breath that reaches to the bottom of your lungs, the type of breath that demands you stand up straight in order for it to get to the bottom of your lungs, the type of breath that is intentional and reminds you that you are very much alive and that’s a pretty amazing thing.  But this breath I took had something else attached to it: freedom. The brief morning break (all in all being about 3 hours) from social media had left me with a lack of stress, frustration, preoccupation, and anxiety, and my mood had been barely altered. my mind was wonderfully present in the here and now and not in the past and future. And in that moment i became a different type of addict (let’s admit it, as far as humans go, we’re all addicted to something); in that moment I became addicted to that lack…it was the first time that lacking something brought me so much life and I wasn’t going back, it was just too damn good.

Does any of this mean that my life is now perfect because I’ve broken with constant interaction via Twitter or Facebook? No. Hell no. I’m just less burdened with self-caused anxiety and stress–my kids still do crappy things and I still respond crappily to those things. Does any of this mean I dislike social media? No. Hell no. This post just went out via twitter and I still love tweeting stuff that I’m reading or things I’ve read. I still enjoy my Facebook friends. I still love posting my pictures via Instagram. Does any of this mean that I’ve some how become more righteous. No. Just: Hell no.

What does this mean? It means that I do have more time for those who are very important to me (that includes myself). It also means (and this is the bigger point) that social media, for me, is a poison and I just can’t engage it with health. Some people can. But I can’t. A good friend said to me, when I shared this with him, “For me, social media is a poison; I just can’t do it.” I couldn’t have agreed more with how he put it. Some people can’t drink, I can’t do social media socially. Even when I’m on it now for a brief second, I can feel that beast of burden reclaiming it’s seat on my back and driving it’s tentacles deep into my conscience; I just can’t participate in it.

So, that’s my story, my confession. Nothing earth shattering. Nothing very deep. Just some words that I’ve wanted to share for a long time.  Just some words that come from a heart under conviction, steeped in gratitude toward a God who loves me so much that not one part of me goes unnoticed, and wonderfully burdened by the human condition.

A Window into the Past: Women, Greco-Roman Society, and the Pastorals (part VI : Ephesians 5:15-33)

Ephesus in Brief

“‘Ephesian and Roman were no longer mutually exclusive categories,’ is significant for this study.  There was no substantial distinction between a major city of Asia Minor, Roman Corinth and Rome itself; such was the ready embracing of Romanization” (Ando qtd in Winter 97).  Ephesus was the “…urban hub and provincial capital of Asia”, which is now the western part of modern Turkey (Belleville 735).  Ephesus was the home to the “…temple of Artemis, the Anatolian goddess of fertility, acclaimed as one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.  In fact, the city was named the temple warden of Artemis (Acts 19:35)” (Belleville 735).  The temple cult was an important aspect to the religious and economic properties of Ephesus, so much so that there was a two-hour-long chant praising Artemis of the Ephesians (Acts 19:28-36), and the belief that “…the city possessed Artemis’s image, supposedly fallen from Jupiter (acts 19:35)” (Belleville 735).  Towner writes, “Ephesus was famed for its cult and temple dedicated to the worship of Artemis, around which a good deal of the city’s commercial interests revolved.  It also had a large Jewish colony.  Ephesus presented the gospel with a formidable challenge in that it was a center of pagan worship” (Towner 21).

Belleville comments on the appeal of the Artemis cult on women,

Artemis, it was believed, was the child of Zeus and Leto, and the sister of Apollo.  Because of the severity of her mother’s labor, Artemis never married.  Instead she turned to a male consort for company.  This made Artemis and all her female adherents superior to men.  Artemis was also seen as the mother goddess, the author  of life, the nourishers of all creatures and the power of fertility in nature.  Maidens turned to her as the protector of their virginity, barren women sought her aid, and the women in labor turned to her for help (735).

In regards to the church in Ephesus, there was a multitude of false-teaching affecting the growing church.  Belleveille explains, “…[there were at] least five components to the false teaching.  Esoteric knowledge….Asceticism….Dualis[ism]….Jewish [influence by the Circumcision group]….[and] positing of mediators through which contact between a material creation and a spiritual God was accomplished.  Christ was held up as one of them…” (Belleville 735).

Eph. 5:15-33

vv.22-25. The women of Ephesus would not have been shocked to hear the command from Paul to submit to their husbands.  How could it have been shocking? It was commonly understood that women would submit to me. However,  as Liefeld points out, the shocking news “…was that such submission now (1) was to be done for the sake of the lord (v.22) and (2) was balanced by the love of the husband even to the point of self-sacrifice (v.25)” (142).  In other words, taking our queue from Ephesians 5:21 (“submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ”) submission is now mutual. The mutuality of submission would have been the shocking news, and not that wives should submit to their husbands. Paul’s language subverts the role of Patria Potesta in a subtle yet revolutionary way.

Leifeld comments,

It is striking that there is no command here for the husband to rule his wife.  His only instruction is to love and care for her.  The husband should not claim authority over his wife the way a Roman man used to.  In that system, which underwent changes during the period of the early empire, a woman used to be under the manus (‘hand’) of the father and at marriage came under the control of her husband (Liefeld 142).

Taking into account what has been written thus far about the Greco-Roman society and the role of the father, Paul’s language in this periscope provides three extremely counter-cultural statements.  The first statement is the concept of mutual submission (just referenced briefly above).  Following the flow of thought from the Greek text, the passive verb translated here as “submit” is from v.21; therefore the context is mutual submission and not only the submission of wives to husbands.

The second statement is enveloped in the phrase, “…as to the Lord.”  Paul is supplying the proper realm of submission for the wives; wives are not simply and blindly submitting to the authority of the Patria Potestas  they are submitting to the Lord, the one who has authority over the earth (Eph. 2)—the true King and Emperor of the world, the true Divine Son.   Paul’s use of the societal house-code, which required submission of wives to husbands, women to men, is not advocating the societal standards, but is placing this infant church in a realm that is to be submitted to the true authority that is in Christ Jesus.

The third statement is the command for husbands to love their wives (v.25).  As my friend Brian McVey commented, in a lecture on the use of Eros and Agape within Greek literature, and the understanding of these two terms, the command that Paul gives to the husbands would be to love their wives in way that was pouring out from them rather than loving something because of a need or lack within themselves (eros).  Marcus Barth contends that the use of agape in v.25 is the wedding together of Eros and Agape (which, as McVey pointed out, could be the understanding of hesed); that husbands were to love their wives in such a way would have been counter-cultural in the Greco-Roman society (621).  “For the first time in Ephesians the term ‘love’ (agapaō) includes the erotic relationship and sexual union by which a man and a woman become ‘one flesh” (M. Barth 621).

Also, it’s worth pointing out again (because I’ve said it before in this post here) the following about our passage:

Considering that in Ephesians 5. In v. 21 the verb translated as “submitting” is the verb that is pulled into the subsequent verse (v.22) when Paul turns his attention to wives: submit to your husbands. Then, after only three short thoughts, he turns to the husbands and addresses them in a rather lengthy discourse starting with an exhortation to lay down their lives for their wives. This is less of a change of subject and more of a addressing a different audience. Paul uses different language to say something similar to the husbands as he did to the wives.

But, the question remains, why change the language?

My thought about the “why” is this: Paul speaks to the women in terminology they would’ve existentially understood–the language they would’ve been familiar with but also because of the woman’s ability (and in the case of Paul’s age) one of her primary functions in bringing forth life into the world: a woman, having gone through the experience of pregnancy, labor, delivery, and caring for a helpless child, would have been well acquainted with the event of submission as a laying down of their life, of loving something/someone form the inside out that can give nothing back in return (agape). I’m not saying that Paul had this later aspect on the forefront of his mind, but it’s intriguing to me that he speaks nearly in shorthand to the wives. Thus, what he says to the women, is not radical: it’s nearly status quo; they would’ve nodded ” oh yes, we understand.” But what’s radical is what follows with his discussion to the men. The feeling in the transition from talking to the wives to the husbands is as if he paused and said to the husbands: all y’all best sit down for this; i’m about to blow your minds. And thus enters into a longer explanation of how the husbands are to love (agape) their wives and live out the “submitting one to another” aspect of 5.21. Both the act and the concept would have been so radical to the husbands, that Paul essentially has to spell it out for them and even then Paul loses his own mind and gets caught up–nearly raptured–in the mysteries he can’t even explain well enough. So, in short, my thoughts have been that Paul had to explain in detail (agape worked out in submission to another (the wife)) to the husbands because it was radical and foreign, and he could speak plainly and briefly to the women, because they would’ve understood (per the reasons mentioned above).

In regards to the use of “head” in this periscope, Liefeld writes,

The meaning of head in this context is…crucial….The Greek language did not assign as strong a leadership/authority meaning to kephalē as the Hebrew apparently did to ros and the Latin to caput.  Because of the strong connotation of caput, it was easy for the Latin Church fathers to interpret head in this passage strongly. The most common word for ‘head’ in Hebrew was rō’š.  When pre-Christian Jewish scholars translated the Old Testament into Greek (the Septuagint or LXX), they sometimes avoided the normal Greek word kephalē when the Hebrew rō’š meant rule or authority (as in the word leader) and used instead a stronger synonym such as archon.  If kephalē had the unambiguous, univocal meaning of rule or authority, this would not have been necessary” (Liefeld 144).

Therefore, it is best to not understand the use of kephalē in this periscope as “rule or authority”; but, referring back to 1 Cor. 11:3-16 (posted here), as “preeminent, foremost, and synecdoche for a representative whole” (Thisleton 821).

A View of the Image of God from Motherhood (musings) Part II

This past Sunday was Mother’s day. I love Mother’s day. I love it even though I know how much of a “Hallmark” holiday it is. I just love it. I love the way my children bounce into our bed, bearing their school-made gifts. I (expletive + ing) LOVE gifts, especially from my boys. I love seeing what they have to say, and at 8 and 6, they say crazy awesome stuff. This year I got a Pokemon card from my 8 year old, and from my 6 year old, a laminated picture and written paragraph about the things he loves about me.

My 6 year old writes some pretty amazing and fairly deep statements; no surprise really, since he’s always been that deep thinker. By 2, we dubbed him the “Wandering Sage” because he would randomly spout off wise advice or deep thoughts. One day he woke up and while rubbing his eyes, said, “No one should run with scissors.” One day he was doing his gymnastic stunts off a big, over-stuffed chair, stopped mid tumble, sat upright, and said, “Mama, everything about war is wrong.” One day he explained to me how the seed and the egg formed the baby I was carrying in my womb; he was eerily close and only 4.  Last year he wrote me this: I love you because you love me! It’s like he was reading 1 John 4 the night before.

This year, written at the tail end of the list of things that he loves about me, he wrote, “Your smile makes me loved and feel happy.”

My eyes have reread those words everyday since I taped that laminated picture and paragraph up in my “office” (aka: The Kitchen).  In my skeptical adult wounded state, I would’ve said, “Your smile makes me feel loved…” Leaving room for the doubt that you don’t really love me, because I know smiles can sometimes be fake. So, there’s a difference between feeling loved and belovedness. To this child, though, my smile declares to him: beloved.

The power of a mother’s smile.

My smile…the smile that comes across my face when they come in from being at school all day; the smile that cuts through the tension filled bedroom because someone was being a total grumpy pants; the smile that can’t contain itself when they do ridiculous things during a tantrum; the smile that–often–ushers them off to dreamland and awaits for the dawn to greet them again; the smile that assures them that even right in the midst of their crap, they are loved, they are the beloved.

And this leads me to discuss what conclusion I’m drawing about the image of God from the view of motherhood.  It’s the power of the mother’s smile–from the moment that baby is born to the moment that mother stops walking upon the earth–that declares belovedness to the child. And I believe that the power is there, in the mother’s smile, because it’s she who has been most intimate with the child (she knows him), the one who has provided comfort from day one (she is the voice and the smell that brings her comfort). It’s her smile that conveys not just “I am happy with you” or “I have learned you and find you amusing” but sustains the original love, the state of belovedness.  The very one who bore you, who handed herself over for you, who stared death in the face to get you here smiles upon you  and you are loved.

Am I still the beloved? Yes, dear child, you are.

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24-26).

God has smiled upon us; and it’s a smile that will never stop. Through His son, our saviour Jesus Christ, he has declared to the entire world that He loves us so much and that He desires us so much to know that we are the beloved. His face, through His son, is shining upon us and is gracious to us; His countenance is upon us and gives us peace because of Jesus. And while my smile stops many times a day, His never stops. Because His smile upon you and upon me is based on His perfect love for us apart from our deeds (both good and bad) because of the totality of the work of Christ. God’s smile is forever upon you, right here, right now, right where you are–clean or dirty, put together or falling apart, sober or drunk, pure or defiled.  The very One who created you, the very One who handed himself over for you, the very One who reckoned with death and won to silence death once and for all and to bring you to Himself, smiles upon you and you are loved.

Am I still the beloved?  Yes, dear child you are and always will be.

barely alive and barely breathing

I am convinced that all real change and transformation in our lives, all the real and tangible knowledge of who God is, and undeterred faith is borne not out of sheer positive determination to know but out of the very dark, dark moments in our lives. Positive determination creates a situation where it has to be re-fabricated at another time, thus rendering it unsustainable; but what we learn about God and his love for us in the dark, when we are near death, revealed to us by the power of the Spirit (because we know we couldn’t have created these things ourselves), those are the events that create truly altered attitudes and stances and praises and thanksgivings that stay with us forever and ever….because those attitudes and stances were created out of nothing by God (because we have and are nothing). In the darkness of depression, we have not the strength or the voice or the heart to praise God; we are brought nearly dead and lifeless to Him. And it is He who breathes life back into our lifeless bones and after we inhale His life-giving breath, we exhale His praise.

When we know God by night, we will certainly know him by day.

I speak not naively but from experience. I’ve known God in the midst of the darkest depression I’ve ever experienced a few years ago. The following is a testimony/sermon produced out of that depression.

I’m coming out of a season decked with many losses and failures, and enveloped by severe depression. In early April we lost my husband’s grandmother; five weeks later, my grandmother; five days later our 9.5 week pregnancy. In June we lost our financial footing because of a van that couldn’t pass inspection. In September we lost a significant job opportunity that had given us great hope; a week after that, our other car was stolen for amusement and with the intent to destroy it. Finally, in October, I was confronted, boldly, with the reality that I was failing (and hurting, inadvertently) a dear friend and our friendship. All of this mixed in with months of struggle with my oldest son—who repeatedly hit me, threatened me (as much as a 3.5 year old can), and telling me he just flat out didn’t like me.

Losing and failing. Each one of these events that I was experiencing is normal and even tolerable; but, the cumulative effect and the weight of all of them at once…and…the depression that I was trying my best to ward off, finally won. I slipped into a very dark spot. I couldn’t take it any more. There was no joy in my heart and every heartbeat actually caused me physical pain. I cried every day, often crying myself to sleep. My mind fluctuated between the twin thoughts: “God has turned his face from you” and “you are a complete and utter useless failure.” And in that darkness, I gave up. At one point I curled up on a bare mattress in a room we are renovating and pulled a blanket over myself, and wished it would be over. Please just let it be over. I felt barely alive; I could barely breathe.

And it’s from here, right here, from this very palpable darkness, this having given up, and rendered useless, this barely alive and barely breathing, that I can talk about the power of the Gospel preached. Because the Gospel preached to me—repeatedly—cut through that darkness; it boldly penetrated it—unashamedly and unabashedly, it burst in and seized me. It lay hold of my weak and feeble frame, my exhausted mind, my smoldering and bruised spirit and rescued me, and, maybe even more than that, the Gospel resuscitated me, it gave me faith, it gave me life. Throughout all of the darkness and despite the lack of any tangible assurance, I still believed in God; this very God who is merciful and unyielding in His love; who, by the life of His one and only Son, through the event of the incarnation and the cross, has declared “it will not always be so.” Darkness, depression, sorrow, suffering, grief, and pain have been given their verdict: no; and I mine: yes. Every Sunday, I heard the Gospel and I could not not raise my hands in praise and worship of this God who has done this great work for me and in me. By the power of the Gospel I was made one hundred percent aware of my total and utter and desperate need for the Cross, for Jesus; by the power of the Gospel, I’ve been made truly human because, by the power of the Gospel, out of sure death came new and true life, with the robust breath of faith.

Absolved Motherhood

A few weeks ago there was a study* that concluded that mothers who work shouldn’t feel guilty because their children turn out just as well as children whose mothers did stay home with them. This is good news. I hate that my friends feel guilty who work and feel bad for working and not being home with their children. I’ve long held the belief that if you want to work then work, if you have to work then work, if you want to stay home and can, do it. You any of those very things.  I’ve never believed that because I stay home with my three children that they’ll be some sort of super-humans; but then again, my theology prevents me from believing such lies about motherhood and parenting.

Lies that have come into existence because the axiom has shifted from God to humans and when that shift occurred there was a vacuum and like any good vacuum something was sucked into the void: parenting. If we no longer look to God, then we default to looking to ourselves (I think therefore I am (Descartes) and I have no need for that hypothesis (Leplace about God)).  And, if it’s up to us then we must get to the core of human society and how to keep it going and even evolve it and that is how we end up with the idolatry of parent-hood and parenting. If you don’t want your child to grow up to be a  sociopath/psychopath then you should _____!  For your child to be truly compassionate and intelligent you must never____! I’ve seen this line of thought coming from both traditional and attachment parenting blogs and websites (my husband and I fall in the weird conundrum of both traditional and attachment parenting techniques).  The onus of a productive and good society falls heavy on the fleshy, bony shoulders of weak men and women: if you do this parenting thing right, we’ll not only keep society running, we’ll improve it!

Lies. Horrible horrendous lies.

But what bothered me most about this study and the hype about it was that there was this implicit conclusion that I, as a stay at home mom, somehow feel less guilty because I stay at home.

Lies!

I feel guilty day in and day out. I feel guilty just as much as my friends who work (it might be different, but I doubt the level is any different). I feel guilty because I fail my children daily. I feel guilty because I’m aware that I’m not treating these three human beings, who God has placed in my hands to care for, perfectly.  The reality is that I don’t need a parenting manual to tell me I’m failing, because as soon as my voice raises and that anger over-comes me and I grit my teeth, I know I’m failing.  We are called to love our neighbors as ourselves, first and foremost those who are quite literally bone of our bones and flesh of our flesh and this command I fail daily.  From my experience, motherhood (parenthood at large) is naturally inclined toward guilt. I could search every town in every state looking for that one non-guilt-ridden mother, and I’d come up empty. Facade or not, parents are guilt ridden.

And that brings me to my main point. The hard news we don’t want to hear is this: we are all failing as parents. Failure is failure is failure. Working or staying home, we are all failing our kids because we’re broken human beings. At night, when I lay my head on my pillow, my shoulders are no less burdened by guilt and regret than a mother who works.

Guilt is guilt is guilt.

And it doesn’t matter how many studies are published that say or y about parenting and guilt and that I shouldn’t have it; none of it alleviates my guilty feelings, my guilty conscience, cleans my blood stained hands. At the end of the day, the only thing–and I mean: The. Only. Thing.–that takes that guilt from me is the absolution proclaimed to me from the Gospel, which is the gospel of the justification of sinners. Jesus Christ died for all of my failures as a mother, all of your failures as a mother or father, and he was raised for our justification (Rom. 4:25). By faith in Christ we are united to Christ and what is His (righteousness, not guilty, beloved) becomes ours (it is imputed to us) to such an extent that we are indistinguishable from it; just as, on the cross, what is ours (sin, guilt, unbelovedness) became His–Jesus became sin (it was imputed to Him) to such an extent that He was indistinguishable from it. And this entire event (or exchange) is ours by faith in Jesus Christ and not by works of the law; we are entirely justified by faith in Jesus Christ apart from works.  All of me–all of you–now is determined by faith in Christ and not by works of the law.

In the event of justification by faith in Christ, your guilty status is revoked for good and replaced with the status of not guilty. In the event of justification by faith in Christ, in His word of absolution to you, your guilt (all of it) is actually taken from you because in the word of absolution you are recreated not guilty, you are recreated forgiven, you are recreated beloved. In the event of justification and by the word of absolution you stand as one who is not guilty, who is forgiven, and who is beloved.

It is this word of absolution, and only this word of absolution, that will ever take away our guilt for real.

*There were some holes poked in the research supporting the study. On a podcast I listen to produced by Slate, Mom and Dad are Fighting, I heard that the comparisons were drawn between stay at home mothers in the 70’s and working moms of today. I mention this not to discredit the conclusion (mothers who want to/have to work shouldn’t be burdened by guilt of some abstracted idealistic version of motherhood that is fairyland) but to say that I’m aware of the errors.

A View of the Image of God from Motherhood (musings) Part I

I’m a mom. I think about being a mom a lot. It makes sense. I’m also a theologian (budding). Thus, I think about God a lot. And, that makes a lot of sense, too. Often, these two realms overlap and I find myself holding my toddler, nursing her, and thinking about aspects of God and His work toward us, specifically (as of late) the image of God as it is manifested by both man and woman in unity. And I often find my thoughts wondering in this direction: what unique thing does woman bring to the image of God (keeping in mind that there’s a reason for making humanity in the image of God both male and female)? And–as radical as it may sound, as liberal as it may sound–what can I know about God by being a mother? What about motherhood uniquely represents the image of God? For part of my woman-ness is the ability to carry life within me, to birth that life, to sustain that life, so I wonder, what of those experiences points me to a unique aspect of the image of God?

And this is what I want to ponder over a few posts: The view of the image of God from motherhood.

Before I begin, I want to stress that the image of God is fully represented by the man and the woman (neither one carries more of the image than the other, both, together, carry the image of God uniquely and generally). And, I also want to stress that the image is fully represented by a man and a woman who do not have children. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t something in motherhood and in fatherhood (though, I’m only speaking of motherhood here because I’m not a father) that can be the environment where the image gets pushed to the surface, visibly so; like, the difference between being 8 weeks pregnant and 38 weeks pregnant. This doesn’t make motherhood and fatherhood the end all and be all of Christian/Human achievements in life; they’re not. I am not a better Christian woman because I am a wife and a mother. I’m merely a Christian woman who is a wife and a mother and that’s the platform from which I’m speaking, that’s the lens I’m using now to peer into, to understand more of the image of God.

With that disclaimer out of the way, let’s begin…

Something occurred to me recently, when I was dealing with my daughter. She was screaming at me. I mean, screaming and shoving me (she’s very strong for 18 mos) and it was pure anger on her part because she was not getting something she wanted. Now, if I were screaming at you and shoving you you’re reaction, rightly, would be to walk away. Now, sometimes I do walk away, catch my breath, check my rage. But, oddly, I come back. I come back to her, mid tantrum and I bend low and pick her up in my arms and hold her (still full tantrum).  Vocal chords at full impact and limbs flailing wildly, I go to her and bring her closer to me. Not farther, but closer. This is what most mothers do in many circumstances. They go toward the child that is hating them.

I can’t help it. Even when it’s bad–and my toddler can get bad, we’ve nicknamed her “The Fury”–even when I do have to walk away, I can’t walk away completely. My heart is still turned toward her, desires her, loves her, craves her. And I will return to her within minutes.  There’s an actual chemical change that occurs in the woman’s brain the moment she becomes pregnant that forever changes her brain chemistry (she’ll never be the same again) that causes her to go toward her screaming child. This is something naturally unique to women, though men can experience the same change but only by “practice”, by being proactive in childcare, hands on with baby and their brains will begin to change too. But ours change the moment (or the moments before) we see that + on the pregnancy test. We are, from that moment on, hard wired to go toward our children. (Not all women have this chemical change, but it is very common.)

[Like] a mother comforts her child, so will I [God] comfort you; and you will be comforted over Jerusalem (Isa. 66:13).

This movement towards my child who is hating me is something I marvel at because it so much a part of God’s character. God, unyielding, moves toward those who hate him, toward his enemies. Like a mother, hard wired to move toward his children, the ones he loves, the ones he desires, the ones he craves even when they are yelling at him and thrusting angry fists into the sky. Like a mother, he pulls us in close to him, holds us, comforts us, and soothes us with His tender voice–the voice we’ve known since conception–and his warm words: I love you, I love you, I love you.

A Window into the Past: Women, Greco-Roman Society, and The Pastorals (pt. v:1 Cor 14:33b-35)

1 Cor. 14: 33b-35

vv.33b-35. Within two chapters Paul* has gone from allowing women to prophesy and pray in church as long as they wore a symbol of authority—a head covering—to saying that women should not speak in church.  What is the cultural situation behind Paul’s statement?  Keener observes that although “Women had made serious gains in terms of public speaking in Roman culture…some Romans and many Greeks still frowned on it, potentially introducing cultural conflict in the church again.  Some would consider women’s speech in gender-mixed company ‘shameful’ (14:35), just like public display of wives’ uncovered hair (11:5-6)” (118).  Keener suggests that Paul, who had submitted to ‘the law” before (1 Cor. 9:20) is doing so here in order to not cause offense, “Wifely submission remained an ideal in his day…especially in terms of behavior to avoid shaming ones husband (14;35; cf. 11:5-6) (Keener 118).

In Greek society, Greek women were “…discouraged from saying anything in public.  Plutarch says that the virtuous woman ‘ought to be modest and guarded about saying anything in the hearing of outsiders’ (Advice to Bride and Groom, 31); again, ‘a woman ought to do her talking either to her husband or through her husband’ (ibid., 32)” (Morris 197).  And, according to Morris, “The Jews regarded it as a sin to teach a woman, and the position was not much better elsewhere” (198).  As the Gospel was the message of true freedom and liberation for women, women of the ancient society would be learning in the setting of the church.  Since the majority of women were not as educated as men, it is plausible to assume that they were asking many questions.  Keener writes,

…many hearers resented questions considered rude, inappropriate, or unlearned; these risked slowing other learners down.  It is possible, although not certain, the women were more apt to ask unlearned questions.  Although Judean boys learned to recite the law growing up (m. ‘Abbot 5:21), the privilege was rarer among girls even in regions where some are attested.  Literate men may have outnumbered literate women five to one, and even among aristocratic Greeks and Romans, where education was most widely available, a woman’s education usually ended by her mid-teens (Keener 119).

On the same note, Keener observes that husbands though their wives incapable of understanding “intellectual ideas” (119).  Referring to Plutarch, Keener writes,

…Plutarch notes that he is exceptional in advising a groom that his bride can learn (but then adds his own sexist twist, arguing that women if left to themselves produce only base passions; Bride 48, Mor. 145BE)….Because of conversions often followed household (cf. 1:16; 16:15) most of the wives Paul addresses would in fact have husbands who had heard the teaching and prophecies (although clearly this was not always the case; 7:12-16; cf. 1 Pet 3:1) (119).

Therefore, Paul is not necessarily abiding by a subjugating law that does not allow women, specifically wives, to never speak in Church, but is constituting an orderliness to the gathering.  In light of his society and how that society had been treating women, Paul addressed the situation with seemliness and proper conduct, but in the freedom of Christ.

And, remember, what’s important here is this (and I’m quoting Sarah Ruden at length):

But whatever the exact standards of anyone involved here, modern readers tend to come at [this] passage in 1 Corinthians from the wrong angle. It would not have been remarkable that women were forbidden to speak among the Christians. It’s remarkable that they were speaking in the first place. It’s remarkable that they were even there, in an ekklesia, perhaps for all kinds of worship and deliberation, and that their questions needed answers, if not on the spot. Paul’s negativity–even his typical snapping about authority–is extremely modest against the polytheistic background (Paul Among the People, 81).

Women were THERE. Women were SPEAKING, ASKING questions, and being HEARD. Let’s not miss the gem here.

*I’m going with the tradition understanding that Paul wrote _all_ of Corinthians even this. I’m aware of the many arguments for and against Pauline authorship here (some considering it to be a gloss, added by a redactor later in time). 

The Silence of Saturday

On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.  Luke 23:56b

John, in his gospel, records that Jesus’ last words from the cross on Friday were, “It is finished” (19:30). Luke records, “Father into your hands I commit my spirit” (23:46b). Both Matthew and Mark have recorded as Jesus’ last words, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (Matt 27:46b; Mark 15:34b). These records of Jesus’ last words from the cross have always brought me immeasurable comfort. But then again, I know the full story. My eyes dart from the “it is finished” in John to the “Now on the first day of the week” of the resurrection story located just  a few inches lower on the page.

Chronologically speaking, I’m missing an entire day as I read along in my bible: the Sabbath. And, technically, that’s today: the day in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.  I jump ahead to the end because I have the end to jump to, I never sit here, in Saturday, in the silence, in the doubt of what had just happened. I rush from getting Easter baskets ready to planning how I’m going to execute Easter dinner while throwing a quick thought to where we’re going to go to church Easter morning.

The reality is: I’m not worried and so I don’t ever think about today: Saturday, the day before Easter, the day before the whole story would unfold.

But maybe we should think of it, consider it, stop and just imagine this day 2000+ years ago. For those who followed Jesus and loved Him and believed (by the power of the Holy Spirit) that he was the long awaited Messiah, this day was filled with nothing but doubt, filled with questions, maybe even despair and feeling abandoned. Was it all for naught? Was He lying? Was it some big ruse, some horrible joke? Were we duped?” Even as I type this blog post, my hands shake a little and tears form in the corners of my eyes; my heart can’t handle this day, my  mind is weighed down imagining what those brothers and sisters of mine suffered emotionally, spiritually, physically, mentally…Jesus had died…what now?

Imagine with me for a moment. Imagine tear soaked eyes looking up at Jesus dead on the cross. Imagine hearts torn in two like the temple veil, hope and expectation fleeing forth like birds out of a cage as they take his body down from the cross. Imagine minds in a panic, racing with questions and burdened with fear as the tomb is sealed shut. Imagine returning home just before dusk, entering into the Sabbath and rather than resting, you’re weeping; rather than worshiping God you’re questioning Him.

Imagine entering into 36 hours of the darkest dark night of the soul you’ve ever experienced.

While all of heaven, on that Saturday, waited with bated breath and excitement for the giving of the greatest gift ever given, for the fulfillment of God’s glorious promises, for Jesus to be raised from the dead, thus defeating it forever…

…on Earth…

…there was just…

…silence.

A Window into the Past: Women, Greco-Roman Society, and The Pastorals (pt. iv:1 Cor 11:2-16)

Literary Context

The passage under examination follows Paul’s discourse on idolatry (8:1-11:1) and precedes his discussion about propriety and impropriety in the Lord’s Supper (11:17-34) (Hjort 60).  Brigitte Hjort recommends seeing the framing of 1 Cor. 11:2-16 as part of a cohesive discussion about idol worship and/or religious abuse specifically related to food and drink (8:1-11:34) (61, 63).  However, in chapter 12, Paul begins with his examination of the proper use of Spiritual gifts within the worship service concluding in chapter 14 (vv.26-40) with a discussion on “orderly worship” and the function of the different parts of the body (12:1-14:40).  It appears that the content of 1 Cor. 11:2-16 is more closely linked with what follows rather than what precedes, thus, this passage appears to be the introduction to Paul’s lengthy address on proper versus improper conduct during worship (Hays 181).

Head Coverings (11:2-16).

v.2.  Paul begins the pericope by praising the Corinthians for remembering him and for keeping the traditions that he gave to them (v.2).  The Greek word (Ἐπαινῶ) has a stronger connotation than the typical translation “I commend”.  epaino is often associated in Biblical Greek with praising God or honoring a person (Thiselton 809).  Thiselton writes, “In the context of an honor/shame culture some forceful attribution of honor (praise) is required…” (809).  Paul is using purposeful rhetoric to grab his audience’s attention.

Why is Paul praising the Corinthians?  Because they have kept the traditions (παραδόσεις) that he has handed down to them (παρέδωκα).  Thiselton explains that the active sense of parado,seij (from the verb paradi,dwmi) is “betrayal” and the passive sense is “tradition”, “that which is handed on, including teachings, creeds, narratives, catchesis” (810).  F.F. Bruce comments, “The traditions [paradoseis]…were the instructions, relating to matters of doctrine and practice alike, which [Paul] delivered to his churches on the authority of Christ” (102).  Likewise Thiselton, referring to Polycarp, Irenaeus, Clement, and Origen comments, “In early Christian literature the words soon come to denote an authoritative tradition of Christian teaching” (810).  But Bruce warns his reader that though “apostolic tradition” may find its roots “‘from the Lord’” paradoseis and kurios are not to be mistaken as synonymous (103); thus, “…the…‘tradition’ of which [Paul] goes on to emphasize [vv.3-16]…probably does not go back beyond his own teaching” (Bruce 103).  However, what follows is not to be discarded for Paul was one to have the mind of Christ (Bruce 103).

v.3.  After grabbing the Corinthians’ attention, Paul begins his discourse on head-coverings by giving three examples of the headship relationship (the “kephale-structure” (Bjort, 64)): Christ and man, husband and wife, and Christ and God.  Thiselton refers to the translation of this verse as one that “…has caused more personal agony and difficulty than any other in the epistle…” due to the ambiguousness of the meaning of the Greek word κεφαλὴ, (811)[2], and to the vagueness of Paul’s motives for starting his discussion about head coverings with the “kephale-structure”.  To better understand this verse, we will examine the Greek word translated as “head” (kephale) and the “kephale-structure”.

Some scholars argue for translation of kephale, as “source”; Leon Morris, Gordon Fee, and F.F. Bruce (et al) defend this position (see Thiselton 814).  Morris argues for “source” based off the assumption that “…the functions of the central nervous system were not known to the ancients, who held that we think with the midriff, the phrēn (JTS, n.s., v, 1954, pp. 211-215).  The head was not the controlling factor” (149; and Bruce 103).  Though “source” seems to mend the inherent difficulties within the passage under consideration, Thiselton points out that “…the paucity of lexicographical evidence remains a major obstacle to this translation” (820).  And, considering Paul’s argument in the rest of the passage is based on the theme of “glory” and “honor/shame”, “source” as a translation of kephale, does not contextually flow with Paul’s skillfully devised rhetoric and appears disconnected from Paul’s point.

Traditionally, the translation of kephale, has been “authority, supremacy, leadership,” a view supported by scholars such as Wayne Grudem, J. Fitzmeyer, and others (Thiselton 812-3).  Richard Hays writes, “…in view of the whole shape of the argument, the patriarchal implications of v.3 are undeniable” thus, the concept of “authority” is to be retained (184) and David Ewert writes, “…‘head’ is…used in the sense of ‘leader’, and…[that sense] is not absent here.  As Christ in his incarnation submitted to God, and man is subject to Christ…so the married woman is subject to her husband” (115).  Culturally, the Corinthians would have understood kefalh, to have the connotation of “authority” due to the Empire’s rhetoric of the paterfamilias.  Daniel Arichea writes, “The idea of ‘authority’ would reflect the structure of the household in Roman society, where there is an emphasis on the paterfamilias” (461).  Craig Keener agrees, “…ancient literature…applies [kephale,] often to ‘authority’ or to the ‘most honored [or prominent] part.’  Both ‘authority’ and ‘honored part’ fit Paul’s Christology (11:3) as well as the normal structure of the household in Paul’s’ environment” (1-2 Corinthians 92).  Is Paul touting the party line of the Roman Empire and its hierarchical structure of state and family or is he subverting the empire, subjecting it all to Christ?  If kephale, only means “authority” (or the like) in this pericope, then we may be left with a Christ that has restored everything but the relationship between man and woman.  Another issue I have with translating kephale as “authority” within this verse is that one would be prone to see the Trinity in terms of subordinationism.  If Paul is talking about hierarchy and authority within the “kephale-structure” of this verse, then God is “authority” over (i.e. greater than, super-ordinated over) the incarnated Christ thus the implication is that Christ is somehow inferior (subordinated) to God.  If Christ, in His incarnation, is not fully God (and fully man) then we are left in our sins and are without hope.  Referring to Chrysostom, Thiselton writes,

Chrysostom is aware that a parallel between men/women and God/Christ should not give ‘the heretics’ grounds for subordinationist Christology.  In certain respects head denotes a kind of primacy, but both God and Christ on one side and men and women on the other are the same mode of being. ‘For had Paul meant to speak of rule and subjection…he would not have brought forward the instance of a woman (or wife), but rather of a slave and a master….It is a wife (or woman) as free, as equal in honour; and the Son also, though He did become obedient to the Father, it was as the Son of God; it was God’….Chrysostom…reflects Paul’s notion that in the context of love between God and Christ, or between man and woman, obedience or response is chosen, not imposed… (819).

One must not confuse “submission” with “subjection”.  The Father did not force Christ to the cross, rather, Christ submitted Himself to the Father to death on a Cross (Phil. 2:8).  This submission was an oblation, was an offering of Himself to God in order to glorify God by atoning for the sins of humanity, thus restoring humanity to God.  As well, a wife’s submission to her husband is her oblation, her offering, a laying down of herself for the glory of her husband and not because he is her authority but because she glorifies him.

Thus, there is a third (and better) way to look at the word kephale.  It is possible that kephale translated as “head” contains the notion “that which is glorified”.  When looking at the relationships Paul uses in this verse (every man and Christ, woman and man, and Christ and God), one may notice that one part of the coupling is the person/being that is glorified and that the other is the agent by which the glorification occurs (i.e. woman glorifies man, man is glorified by woman).  However, the glorification is not a selfish desire by the one in detriment to the other.  It is just the opposite; there is mutual reciprocity with in the “kephale-structure” (Thiselton 804).  As one is glorified so is the other part (Thiselton 804).  Thiselton offers,

The Greek Fathers’ use of the term perichoresis well suggests the dialectic of distinctiveness, reciprocity, and oneness which Paul beings to unfold.…The God-Christ relation has nothing to do with self-glory or with affirmation of the self at the expense of the other…This shared love controls the use of freedom, and thereby each brings ‘glory to the other by assuming distinctive roles for a common purpose.  This is the context that gives currently to the widespread comment that ‘the relationship between man and woman is thus in some sense paralleled by that between God and Christ (804, emphasis Thiselton’s).

Keener writes, “Although some argue plausibly that ‘head’ figuratively functions as ‘source’ or ‘first part’…ancient literature also applies it…to the ‘most honored [or prominent] part….‘honored part’ fit[s] Paul’s Christology (11:3) as well as the normal structure of the household in Paul’s’ environment” (92).  Thisleton offers, “preeminent, foremost, and synecdoche for a representative whole” as the translation of kephale that

…has the merit of most clearly drawing interactively on the metaphorical conjunction between physiological head (which is far and away the most frequent, ‘normal’ meaning) and the notion of prominence, i.e., the most conspicuous or topmost manifestation of that for which the term also functions as synecdoche for the whole.  The public face is linked with responsibility and representation in the public domain, since head is both the part of a person which is most conspicuous and that by which they are most readily distinguished or recognized.  These aspects feature more frequently and prominently in first-century Greek texts than either the notions of ruler or source… (821, emphasis Thiselton’s).

Each of the secondary (not inferior) parts of the “kephale-structure[s]” reflect and glorify the primary parts as that which is conspicuous, the preeminent part, the part “by which they [the secondary aspects] are most readily distinguished or recognized.”  It is through God that one recognizes Jesus, it is through man that one recognizes woman, and it is through Jesus that one recognizes redeemed man.  Through the incarnation, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus, God is glorified because Jesus was the perfect propitiation for our sins and creation is restored to God, through Jesus we know God.  Through the creation of woman (Gen 2:18-23) man is glorified and is man because of her creation and is able to commune with God; through woman we know man.  Through redeemed man Jesus is glorified—for it was the first man, Adam, brought to life by the intimate breath of God (Gen. 2:7), that was the prototype to the last Adam, Jesus, who would exhale that same breath on the cross, finally restoring the creature to the Creator (John 30:19); through redeemed man we see Jesus.  If kephale is translated in this way, one is made aware of the reciprocity and mutuality between the two parts of the relationships—God and Christ, man and woman, and Jesus and man—described by Paul in v.3.  And, in light of the honor/shame (and glory v. 7) argument that follows, this translation of kephale. fits well and adheres to Paul’s rhetoric.

vv.4-6.[3]  Paul continues his argument started in the previous verse (v.3) with a discussion on the propriety of men and women covering their heads while praying or prophesying.  It is important to notice here that Paul is using kephale in two different ways.  One way is in the literal sense “head” as in “The head of a man or beast” (Brown 157; Bruce 104); and, the second is in the way described in v.3 (see above) “head” as in the part that is glorified.

The primary difficulty of these verses (vv. 4-6) is the translation of the phrase κατὰ κεφαλῆς ἔχων.  Ralph Yeager explains, “exwn is intransitive.  There is no object expressed.  Kata literally means ‘down’ and kephale is a genitive which serves to accent the person or thing affected—thus, ‘having (something) down upon his head’” (6).  Is Paul referring to long hair or veils?  Alan Johnson writes,

…Paul, rather than referring to some external cloth covering on the head, is actually referring to the way their hair was worn or coiffured, differentiating in this manner males from females in worship leadership. The case for this view relies heavily on an abundance of archaeological evidence from the Mediterranean world of Paul’s day… (189).

Johnson refers to the culture of the Corinthians to defend his argument.  Hairstyles were socially used to differentiate gender identity; thus, men having long hair and women having short, blurred the “social boundaries between the sexes and act[ed] against nature (that is, culture)” (Johnson186-7).  “This [blurred social boundary] brought ‘shame’ on individuals and their corresponding ‘head.’  The problem Paul is addressing is the incurring of social shame through boundary-transgressing hairstyles…(Johnson 186-7).

Arguing from Greaco-Roman social history, Horsley adds to the argument for longhair,

…men normally had short hair and women long hair braided or otherwise wound up around their heads (thus portrayed on coins and statues)….It was also standard social custom for women as well as men to have their head uncovered, as can be seen in portraits of women, including Roman women in Corinth….Thus ‘down the head’ in verse 4 is best taken as a reference to long hair, which would have been considered disgraceful for a man, particularly when praying or prophesying (154; Hays 185).

Richard Hays comments, “For women to have loose hair in public, however, was conventionally seen as shameful, a sign associated either with prostitutes or…with women caught up in the ecstatic worship practices of the cults associated with Dionysis, Cybele, and Isis” (185-6).

Bruce, Morris, and Thiselton argue (or defend) that Paul is referring not to long hair but to a “veil”.  Bruce writes, “…what Paul has in mind is a veil which covers the whole head and in particular conceals all the hair…” (104).  Morris argues that though “long hair” would fit the scope of the later part of Paul’s argument, it ultimately runs into problems in relation to the terms “covered and uncovered” (150).  And, after a detailed survey of the argument (823-6), Thiselton writes, “We are forced to conclude that although [the] case is strong [for long hair], we cannot regard it as conclusive, while lexicography and the Roman background…suggests that with his head covered remains in the end more probably” (825).  Finally, Troy Martin uses v.15b as the key to understanding the passage and the translation of περιβολαίου (“testicle”) to explain that the Graeco-Roman period saw the hair on the woman’s head as a part of her genitalia and as an equivalent part to the male testicle, thus women should keep it covered up (83-4).

Considering Greco-Roman custom (discussed here and above), the context of the verse and Paul’s argument, I believe that Paul is Paul is referring to the way men and women keep their hair rather than to “veils” in these verses.

The point of vv4-6 is honor and shame, about propriety and impropriety within the worship context.  As Thiselton points out, a better title for the pericope would be, “‘Mutuality and Reciprocity: Self Respect, Respect for the Other, and Gender Identity in Public Worship” (825).  Johnson comments about the honor/shame code for women within the Greco-Roman culture,

…the ancient Mediterranean world had in place an elaborate honor-shame code governing the public and private behavior of men and women….A woman’s honor…was her shame, in the sense that her honor was her good reputation and chastity, which required her to have a sensitive consciousness of her sexual vulnerability.  She was to excel in the practice of sexual modesty, being discreet, shy, restrained, timid and subordinate to male authority (186-7).

Thiselton further elaborates on the honor/shame code within the Roman imperial period,

…it was men, rather than women, on whom a woman’s clothing most reflected.  Regulation was required when ‘men participated in status-seeking by means of the clothing of their women….The usual purpose of honouring women was to exalt the men to whom they were mothers, wives, or sisters.’  In this context language about glory, source, and reciprocity becomes important (802).

Honor/shame, glory, source and reciprocity are embedded, according to the above two scholars, within the community of Corinth.  It appears, from vv.4-6, that Paul is placating the current social honor/shame codes and keeping women in a situation that is inferior to men.  However, Thisleton provides insight into what Paul may be doing in these verses, “…Paul intends…to enact a rhetorical shock: do you really want to shame yourself, your family, and your God in such a way?  Or alternatively: are you really serious about no longer wanting to be honored as a women, or do you genuinely want to use ‘gospel freedom’ to eradicate all that relates to gender distinctiveness?…” (832, emphasis Thiselton’s).

vv.7-10.[4]  Paul furthers his argument about honor and shame with in the genders based off of a brief explanation of Gen 2:18-23 and concludes (in v.10) that a wife, because of the angels, should have a symbol of authority on her head.  V. 7 initiates Paul’s discussion about covered/uncovered heads by referring to man as the image and glory of God therefore he should not cover his head.  Paul continues in v.7b that woman is the glory of man and explains in vv. 8-9 why she is the glory of man.  There is a significantly troubling aspect to these verses (7-9): is Paul touting the hierarchical/patriarchical line by saying that since the woman does not reflect the image of God as man does, and was created from and for him she is inferior?  Bruce highlights the unparallel structure between the two parts of the v.7, “Paul does not deny that woman also bears the image of God; indeed, he implies that she does by carefully avoiding complete parallelism” (105). Thiselton adds, “If we give due care to the nuances and force of image and glory in the biblical writings…it becomes clear that the emphasis falls less on hierarchy…than on relationality” (833, emphasis Thiselton’s).

Man stands as the image and glory of God because he was the first of all creation (Gen 2:7), and it was with this created man that God formed His covenant, for God intimately breathed into him, bringing him to life like no other creature (Barth CD III/1 236).  Thiselton writes, “…man as male first comes onto the cosmic scene as the image which is to manifest God in his life and deeds, since authentic personhood entails living ‘for’ and ‘in relation to’ an Other, not as one centered upon the self” (834).  Karl Barth writes it beautifully,

…it is in the…free love that He has resolved in Himself from all eternity on His fellowship with man in the person of His own Son.  As this free love is revealed, i.e., made visible outside His own being, His hidden glory is revealed.  And this is creation to the extent that it makes the creature the exponent, sign and witness of the divine meaning and necessity (CD III/1 230).

It is Adam that God first creates and makes his covenant with (woman is not exempted from this covenant, for she is created from the one who the covenant was first formed).  However, Adam’s state of loneliness (Gen. 2:18), which is not good, prevents him from being in a relationship with and living for the “Other” who created him; thus woman is created to save Adam from loneliness and become man’s glory (Gen.21-22).  However, woman is only the glory but not the image of man, for if she were the image, it would have exacerbated Adam’s condition of loneliness for that other would not have been woman, but another man—it would have been himself.  Consequently, the intended relationship between God and His image, man, would have remained disrupted.  Woman had to be a different yet similar being to draw Adam out of his loneliness and into a relationship with God.  It is through the creation of woman that man becomes more man and through the relationship with man that woman becomes more woman.  The two beings are interdependent rather than hierarchical/patriarchical (as vv.11-12 will draw out).  According to Paul’s argument in vv.7-10, man who reflects the Glory and Image of God should not cover that Image or Glory; however, in worship, where God is the focus and not man, woman should cloak her glory, which is the glory of man, as to not draw attention away from the focus: Christ (1:18) (Morris 151; Keener 1-2 Corinthians 93).  Paul, through terms of glory and reflection, is speaking about honor and shame (Horsley 155).

The conclusion of Paul’s argument in vv.7-10 culminates in an awkward statement: “That is why a wife ought to have a symbol of authority on her head, because of the angels” (v.10).  Primarily, it is Paul’s use of ἐξουσίαν (“authority”) in this verse that is troubling.  The secondary issue is the qualifier, “because of the angels.”  Yeager explains, “A variant reading has kalumma instead of exousian…[the prior indicates] that the passage means that the woman should wear upon her head a veil to symbolize her subjection to the superior authority of her husband, and to the Lord who ordained in creation that it should be so” (14).  However, Paul specifically used ἐξουσίαν to express a specific point.  Ewert illuminates that Paul is subverting the common understanding of women and authority; in light of the culture we should “…expect Paul to say the opposite, namely that she should be in submission to authority and wear the head covering as a symbol of her submission” rather than the covering (her hair) as a sign of her authority (117).  Hays writes, “The expression ‘to have authority’ in Greek always means, just as it does in English, to exercise authority, not to submit to it (187).  Morris agrees, “Far from being a symbol of woman’s subjection to man…her head-covering is what Paul calls it—authority: in prayer and prophecy she, like the man, is under the authority of God’” (M.D. Hooker qtd in Morris 152).  Jason BeDuhn comments that the combination of ἐξουσίαν and ὀφείλει is significant for Paul, “… ‘this does not imply external compulsion but obligation.’  Paul always employs opheilei with the sense of performing one’s duty and acting upon one’s own responsibility and commitment” (303).  Bruce writes,

Here, as elsewhere in this letter, ‘authority’ is probably to be understood in an active sense: the [covering] is not a sign of the woman’s submission to her husband’s authority…. it is a sign of her authority.  In the synagogue service a woman could play no significant part: her presence would not even suffice to make up the requisite quorum of ten (all ten must be males).  In Christ she received equality of status with man: she might pray or prophesy at meetings of the church and her [covering] was a sign of this new authority…” (106).

The woman is to take charge of her physical head.  Paul is transforming “…the symbolic connotations of the head covering: the bound hair becomes a fitting symbol of the self-control and orderliness that Paul desires for the community as a whole” (188).

διὰ τοὺς ἀγγέλους in v.10 has been cause for great speculation for translators and exegetes “since the era of Tertullian (c. AD 200)” (Thiselton 837).  Many explanations have been offered for Paul’s terminology; however, the most cogent explanation is made by Thiselton and Hays.  Thiselton writes, “Among the Jewish traditions which find their way into the NT, those in which angles are perceived as ‘guardians of order’ as well as ‘participants in the church’s praise to God’ prove the best clue to Paul’s meaning…this element is noted in the Qumran writings…[and] in Gal 3:19 Paul observes that the law was put into operation ‘through angels by a mediator,’…” (841, emphasis Thiselton’s; Hays 188; Ewert 118).

vv.11-12.  Though woman can have authority, Paul emphasizes that woman is not independent of man nor man independent of woman.  In light of the above discussion on vv. 3-10, there is no reason for Paul to change the subject in order to back track and explain the equality between the sexes.  However, one cannot dismiss that Paul’s use of the strong adverb πλὴν signifies that Paul is going to go in a different direction (Johnson 197).  It is true that Paul is changing the subject but for a different reason; Paul is drawing his audience back to the main point: you are not independent in yourselves for everything is from God.  Paul is restating his thesis of the letter: this is about Christ and the cross not about you.  In light of the placement of the pericope, in the beginning of the discussion of propriety and impropriety during worship, the Corinthians’ conduct is a reflection of God, of Christ to the community.  Thiselton writes,

…Paul insists that true human relationality entails otherness and indeed respect for the otherness of the other as a necessary basis for true reciprocity, mutuality, and relationality that constitutes what it is to be human.  Yet he adds that this in turn depends on how these roles are fulfilled in relation to God’s will as creator who ordered the world…and to God’s saving action through Christ as Lord of the church…” (843).

vv.13-15.  In case Paul’s scriptural arguments from v.3-12 have proved fruitless in proving his point, he calls the Corinthians to use their cultural experience to judge for themselves what is proper.  Paul’s rhetorical question (v.13) expects a “no, its not proper” answer (Yeager 17).  “Paul…appeals to the mores and values of the Greek world…a number of Greek sources inform us that Greek men did not grow their hair long.  For a man to wear his hair long would be to dishonor (atimia) his position as a male in society.  In the Hellenized world that cherished order, men were supposed to look like men” and women like women (Burton 278).

A translation of φύσις (v.14) may provide lexical help in understanding Paul’s point in vv. 13-15 for to argue from nature seems convoluted because both a man’s and a woman’s hair grows in nature.  Thiselton offers helpful insight to the word hay phusis, “…Paul may use φύσις  sometimes to denote the very ‘grain’ of the created order as a whole, or at other times (as here) to denote ‘how things are’ in more situation or society terms” (845; Johnson 199).  Thus, the better translation should be “the very nature of things” rather than “nature” (Johnson 199).  Paul is not appealing to nature but to the culture of the Corinthians, “Does not your own culture show you that this (vv. 14-15) is inappropriate?”  Paul’s concern in vv.14-15, then, is, as Thiselton states, “…simply to press the issue of gender differentiation and its expression through some semiotic code such as hair or dress.  Semiotic code depends on shared conventions, and social norms generally encourage gender differentiation” (846).

v.16.  To conclude his discussion, Paul arbitrarily closes with a warning that contention over this matter will not be tolerated, for there are no other practices not even in all of the churches of God.  The Corinthians had a natural tendency “to be a law to [themselves], without reference to Christian procedure elsewhere” (1 Cor. 14:36) (Bruce 108).  Hays writes, “…Even if they do not accept his other arguments, the Corinthians should conform their head-covering practice to those of the other churches, because they are called to be one with ‘all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ’ (1:2)” (190).  The Corinthians are not only to be a unified body in Christ within their own congregation, but they are to be unified with the other churches of God.  Once again, Paul concludes his argument by bringing his audience back to the point of his letter: Christ and the Cross.

A Window into the Past: Women, Greco-Roman Society, and The Pastorals (pt. III:1 Cor 7:1-7)

1 Corinthians 7:1-7:

Principles for Marriage

Now concerning the matters about which you wrote: “It is good for a man not to have sexual relations with a woman.” But because of the temptation to sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband. The husband should give to his wife her conjugal rights, and likewise the wife to her husband. For the wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does. Likewise the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does. Do not deprive one another, except perhaps by agreement for a limited time, that you may devote yourselves to prayer; but then come together again, so that Satan may not tempt you because of your lack of self-control.

Now as a concession, not a command, I say this.I wish that all were as I myself am. But each has his own gift from God, one of one kind and one of another.

v.1.  Paul, in response to the questions of the Corinthians, writes, “‘It is good for a man not to have sexual relations with a woman.’”  Johnson writes about the expression translated as “not to touch a woman”, “…the expression…is not the equivalent of ‘not to marry.’ In Hebrew and Greek it is a euphemism for not to have sexual intercourse with woman (Gen 20:6; Prov 6:29)” (108).  Johnson continues by adding that the expression does not necessarily belong to Paul but is a Corinthian colloquialism: the Corinthians were rejecting sexual intercourse with their wives in order to achieve a more intimate relationship with Sophia (Johnson 108-9).  Bruce adds this scenario, “…[Paul is] deal[ing] with ascetics who, partly perhaps in reaction against the libertines, argued that sexual relations of every kind were to be deprecated, that Christians who were married should henceforth live as though they were unmarried, and those who were unmarried should remains so, even if they were already engaged to be married” (Bruce 66).

v.2.  Leon Morris writes, “Since fornication was so common at Corinth it was hard for the unmarried to remain chaste and hard for them to persuade others that they were, in fact, chaste” (Morris 102).  And Keener observes, “Paul may refute [the Corinthian’s] point about a man not ‘touching’ a woman…but if he is conceding it, he applies it to unmarried intercourse only (6:12-21); he goes on to demonstrate that married people must have intercourse (7:2-7).  Contrast ‘It is well,” kalon, with ‘It is not good,’ ou kalon, in Gen 2:18, a context Paul has just quoted in 6:16)” (62).  Paul’s Jewish background would have provided him with the understanding of the  value of marriage and childbearing; but this was not restricted to Paul and his contemporaries, but was manifest in August’s legislation, “…to replenish the Roman aristocracy two generations before Paul’s time.  Augustus’s laws reward with tax incentives widows and divorcees of childbearing age who remarried as quickly as possible” (Keener 63).  On the other hand, Keener also notes that “Some thinkers…believed that marriage proved a distraction from high pursuits (e.g., Cynics in Epictetus Diatr. 3.22.69-76).  Some radical philosophers (especially Cynics) therefore eschewed marriage, nevertheless condoning the release of sexual passions on prostitutes (cf. 6:12-21)” (Keener 63).  Paul may have been dealing with the same group of people who were causing trouble in 6 as in 7 (Keener 63).

v.3.  Morris writes, “Each partner in a marriage has rights and Paul calls on each to pay what is due….Paul does not stress the duty of either partner at the expense of the other, but puts them on a level, a noteworthy position in the male-dominated society of the time” (103).  What is most striking in Paul’s language is the idea of “giving” rather than “getting”; in a culture that was obsessed with getting somewhere weather socially or spiritually, this command to give is countercultural.  “Marriage is the giving of oneself to another” (Morris 103).  Essentially, marriage is not the getting from one what one wants or thinks they deserve.  Horsley observes,

The Therapeutics near Alexandria, described by Philo, provides a striking similar example of women and men who leave their spouses and become ‘elderly virgins.’ Their motivation for spurning the pleasures of the body, moreover, is their devotion to Sophia, whom they consider to be their spiritual life-mate.  This makes the comparison all the more compelling, considering the importance of Sophia to the Corinthian spirituals addressed in chapters 1-4 (Horsley 96).

vv.4-5. Keeping in mind the discussion above about the Roman woman being the property of the husband, the first half of this verse is very much within the constraints of Roman society at that time.  However, the later part introduced by “likewise” is the countercultural statement.  Johnson writes that neither one has the right to do with their body what they want, “…because the other has a rightful claim to sexual satisfaction.  This requires mutual submission (Eph 5:21)….the principal of mutual submission and mutual consent (v.5) is very important in minimizing abuse…Paul’s view of marriage [is a] profound union that entails a shared body, the two becoming ‘one flesh’ (Eph 5:31) (Johnson 110-1).  And Bruce adds, “By the marriage vow each relinquishes the exclusive right to his or her own body and gives the other a claim to it; the verb rule over is exousiazō, denoting the exercise of exousia (‘authority’)” (67).  Horsley proposes that Paul is responding to a Corinthian-ism, “‘[a woman had] authority over her own body’” (97).  Horsley writes, “After reversing that principle, Paul sweetens his denial of authority over her own body with the reciprocal wife’s authority over her husband’s body.  This is certainly a break with patriarchal marriage patterns, at least rhetorically” (Horsley 97).

About Paul’s use of “authority”, Horsley comments, “Among the Corinthians it could have been an expression of empowerment, whether in liberation from parochial taboos such as dietary restrictions (eating food offered to idols, in chaps. 8-10) or old-fashioned customs such as patriarchal property rights (the man ‘having’ his father’s wife, in chap. 5)” (97).

In v.5, Paul makes it clear that it is okay to abstain; however, abstention was only to be for prayer and only for an agreed amount of time.  After the abstention, husband and wife were to return to intimate sexual relations with each other to avoid Satan’s temptation and the Corinthian’s lack of self-control.  Horsley writes, “Permanent abstention from sexual relations is often associated with women in prophetic or other religious roles in other New Testament cases and in the general Hellenistic-Roman culture…” (Horsley 97).  Women were able to find their way out from under Patriarchal domination by submitting themselves to the pursuit of Sophia which involved, as discussed above, devoting all their energy to toward the intimate relationship with Sophia and away from their sexual relations with their husband.  Thistleton observes,

‘With prostitutes and mistresses abundantly available (recall 6:12-20) Corinthian men unable to have sex with their wives would often look elsewhere.’…from the papyri and from Plutarch the double standards of a degree of extramarital relationships in the case of men in the Roman world, in contrast to married women.  Paul’s moral and pastoral principle remains either (a) monogamy (with a full relationship for most of the time; cf. v. 5); or (b) celibacy; but not (c) irregular physical relationships.  Paul…[is]…offer[ing] an antidote to a Corinthian desire to change everything with their new-found status” (Blomberg qtd in Thisleton 503).

(Next: 1 Corinthians 11:2-16)